No one had a packed lunch this time, and so were obliged to pay the exorbitant prices charged to a captive audience. Jane opted for a triangular pack of cheese and chutney sandwiches whilst Dave queued for fish and chips. She was not very hungry, and she had learnt from experience that your meal was apt to go cold while you were waiting in a queue to pay for it. Dave, however, seemed quite phlegmatic about the experience, tucking into his battered fish and greasy-looking chips with enjoyment.
Jane left him finishing his meal and went to speak to Ellen and Shirley who were sitting at a nearby table with Trevor and Malcolm. She gave her address, written on souvenir postcards, to the two ladies, as she had done with Mavis, and they, in turn, wrote their addresses in her diary. Ellen was the one with whom she most wanted to keep in touch, and she felt sure that Ellen was of the same mind. She included Shirley for the sake of politeness, knowing that they were not likely to do more than send a token Christmas card, possibly for only the first year.
‘It’s been a grand holiday, hasn’t it?’ remarked Trevor. ‘Good weather, lovely scenery, good hotels … nice company. What more could you want?’
‘What indeed?’ replied Jane. ‘Yes, it has come up to all expectations.’ She left them with a surreptitious wink and smile at Ellen, who smiled back coyly.
They boarded the coach once again. For some of the party it would be the last time. The next stop would be in the Midlands at the Galaxy depot where roughly half of the passengers would be leaving the tour. This was where Dave would leave, and Jane knew that something would need to be said before the two of them said goodbye. After they had sat in silence for about half an hour Dave turned to her, lightly taking hold of her hand.
‘Don’t be despondent, Jane,’ he began. ‘I’ve a feeling that things will work out just fine for us. It may take time, but I’m sure we’ll be able to sort something out. That is … if you still feel the same way about us, about you and me?’
Jane nodded numbly. ‘Yes, I do … I’m trying to, but I can’t see any way ahead at the moment. Mother … I can’t just abandon her – anyway, she’s so set in her ways. She would never approve.’
‘Surely she would if she met me,’ said Dave, squeezing her hand and giving a quiet chuckle. ‘Who could resist my dynamic personality, to say nothing of my handsome looks! I’ll have her eating out of my hand, you’ll see …’
Jane knew he was trying to make light of the situation, even though he might well be as unsure of the outcome as she was. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Who could resist you! No, seriously, Dave—’
‘Say no more,’ he interrupted her. ‘There’s no point in going over and over it. We’ll wait and see what happens. Here are my telephone numbers, my landline and my mobile numbers. We can’t lose touch with one another, Jane, when we’ve had such a lovely time together.’ He was speaking gently and earnestly now. ‘I’ve told you how I feel about you, and I’m sure that you feel the same. You know there was an almost instant attraction between us, don’t you?’
She nodded again. ‘Yes, I believed so … but we were thrown together, weren’t we? Sitting next to one another. A holiday friendship; we’re both away from home with our problems left behind us for a little while. But we have to return to the real world, and the problems are still there. They won’t disappear overnight. I let myself believe, for a short time, that it might be possible for us to continue our friendship. But I know I was kidding myself.’
What was it her mother had said the last time she phoned her? She’d be glad to get home; there was nothing like your own bed and home comforts. She had admitted that Evergreen had not been too bad, but that didn’t mean that Jane could go gadding off any time she felt like it. Those were her exact words, ‘gadding off’. So how would she feel about her daughter gadding off to meet a man in Shropshire, a man who still had a wife? And it was during the previous telephone conversation that she had been going on about some man or other at the home whose son was carrying on with a woman to whom he was not married. ‘Living in sin’, Alice had said.
Jane was silent for a few moments as these thoughts ran through her mind.
‘Come along, love, never say die,’ said Dave, a trifle impatiently. ‘We can’t give up before we’ve even tried.’ He pressed the paper with the telephone numbers into her hand and she pushed it into the pocket of her trousers. ‘I shall be waiting to hear from you. I refuse to believe that we won’t see one another again. Now, give me your phone number, please. Just your mobile number if you don’t want your mother intercepting calls from a strange man.’
But Jane shook her head. ‘No, let’s just leave it as it is, Dave. It will only upset me if you keep ringing up and I have to tell you that it’s no use. Mother isn’t going to disappear. God forbid! I don’t want anything to happen to her.’
‘No, of course you don’t. But who knows what might have happened while you’ve been away? Your mother might have a gentleman admirer at this place where she’s been staying. I’ve heard of it happening. There was an elderly couple where my mother lives, both well into their eighties, and they became friendly and got married!’
Jane gave a wry laugh. ‘Now you’re talking nonsense! You haven’t met my mother. No, I’m trying to be sensible, Dave. I promise I will ring you if I can see any light at the end of the tunnel, any hope of us meeting again. That’s all I can say. Let’s just leave it at that, eh?’
‘Very well, if you say so …’ Dave sighed. He could see there was no point in saying any more. Jane was feeling despondent. Maybe she was given to highs and lows of mood? He didn’t know her well enough to have found out everything about her. But it wouldn’t matter to him if she was. He had seen a glimpse of a happy, fun-loving Jane, and he felt, against all odds, that he would be with her again, sooner rather than later, he hoped.
The coach sped on along the M6, eating up the miles until, just north of Birmingham, they reached the Galaxy depot in the Midlands. A good number of people would be leaving there, including Bill, the driver. His home was further north, in the Manchester area, but he was based in the Midlands and would be dealing with the directing of passengers to the various minibuses that were waiting to take them home.
Many of the people who were leaving expressed their thanks to the drivers, in the usual way, as they left the coach. Others, including Jane, had thanked them the previous night. Monetary tips were much appreciated to supplement a reasonable, but not over-generous, wage.
Bill gave a cheery wave to the remainder of the group as he departed. ‘So long, folks. You’ve been a grand crowd and I’ve enjoyed your company. Hope I’ll see some of you again if you decide to holiday at home for a change.’
He said a quiet unobtrusive goodbye to Christine on the front seat. Her home, too, was in Manchester, so she was remaining on the coach. No doubt they had already said their goodbyes in private. Jane hoped that things worked out well for them.
It was time now for her to say goodbye to Dave. He took hold of her hand and kissed her gently on the cheek, ‘au revoir, Jane, my dear,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s not goodbye.’
She smiled bravely. ‘Yes … Au revoir, Dave,’ she repeated. ‘I hope so, anyway.’ She knew that ‘au revoir’ meant ‘until we meet again’.
She watched him alight from the coach and then wait whilst Mike and Bill sorted out the suitcases. Then he lifted his hand to wave at her, though not all that cheerily, as he walked towards the waiting minibus.
Jane leaned back on her seat and closed her eyes as the coach set off again. She was determined not to give way to tears. She knew that she must put on a brave face when she said goodbye to her other friends who, like herself, were travelling northwards to the depot near Preston. She took the paper that Dave had given her out of her pocket. She glanced at it briefly, then, scarcely aware of what she was doing, she tore it in half, then into quarters, screwed them up, then shoved them into her shoulder bag.
They had an obligatory ‘comfort’ stop an hour or so later, but there was li
ttle time to chat to anyone, and no one really felt like drinking yet another cup of tea or coffee. She had managed to compose herself by mid-afternoon when they arrived back at Preston.
Mike, at the wheel, said his goodbyes on behalf of himself and Galaxy Travel. ‘You have been a wonderful crowd,’ he told them. Jane wondered if he said the same thing every time. But to give him the benefit of the doubt, she was sure he meant it. ‘Thanks to you all for your enjoyable company, and I hope I shall see some of you again. So it’s goodbye for now, and God bless.’
The remainder of the passengers, those who lived near and others from a little further afield, alighted at the Preston depot. Jane’s home was not far away, and there would be two couples travelling with her in the same minibus. Mavis and Arthur, bound for Blackburn, would be in the bus for mid-Lancashire. There was a third one which would take Shirley and Ellen, Trevor and Malcolm, and the two sisters, Christine and Norah, to the Manchester area. The added bonus with Galaxy Travel was that you were transported, as they advertised, ‘from door to door’.
They all milled around as Mike unloaded the cases. Jane said a fond goodbye to Mavis and Arthur, and to Shirley and Ellen. They were all a little emotional, as they had bonded so well over the past ten days, and it felt as though they were bidding farewell to old friends, not ones whom they had, in reality, known for only a short time.
Mavis hugged Jane, holding her close for a moment. ‘Thank you for being a good friend to Arthur and me,’ she said. ‘You’ve been such a comfort to me, Jane … and I hope that all goes well for you and Dave.’
Jane had not told her about the complications that had arisen, but Mavis had obviously become aware that there were problems. ‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Jane, bravely. ‘You take care of Arthur, and of yourself; I’ll pop over to Blackburn to see you before long, I promise.’
After a speedy goodbye to Shirley and Ellen – the cases were loaded and the drivers were anxious to be on their way – Jane stepped aboard. She had the seat next to the driver, so she could not converse with the others who were sitting at the back.
Her home was the nearest one to the depot, so it was not long before she was getting off again. She waved to the couples in the back as she accompanied the driver, who was carrying her case, up the garden path to her door.
‘Cheerio, love. Take care now,’ he said, as she put her key in the lock and opened the door.
The house felt strange and empty; everything looked a little unfamiliar as though she had partly forgotten her surroundings. To be alone again, after the constant hubbub and excitement of the last ten days – apart from the night times, of course – was a shock to the system.
A cup of tea first. That was always the priority. Then she would make herself a meal. She had bought a loaf at the last service station, so beans on toast would suffice. It felt odd without her mother there to greet her. How often in the past, she had longed for a bit of peace and quiet, but to have someone to talk to now would take her mind off her problems. She realized she was looking forward to seeing her mother the following day, and maybe, she thought, surprisingly, to having her home again.
Twenty-Two
Jane thought when she arrived at Evergreen the following morning that her mother would be waiting with her bags packed, ready and raring to go. But that was not the case. Jane was shown into the lounge by Mrs Meadows, the supervisor, to find her mother sitting comfortably in an easy chair, with another woman, rather younger than herself, in the opposite seat.
‘Here’s your daughter, Alice,’ said Mrs Meadows. ‘I’ll go and make some coffee for you, and then you can have a chat.’
Jane was nonplussed. She stooped to kiss her mother’s cheek and to give her a quick hug. ‘Hello, Mother,’ she said. ‘You’re looking well. I thought you’d be ready to go, but—’
‘Oh, there’s no hurry,’ Alice broke in. ‘Sit yourself down and relax for a few minutes. You’ve had a good holiday, have you? You’ve caught the sun, but you’re looking a bit tired and strained. Is everything alright?’
‘Yes, I’m fine, Mother,’ she replied. ‘It’s been a busy ten days, though …’ She looked enquiringly at the other woman, and smiled at her. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Mother?’
‘Give me a chance,’ snapped Alice. ‘Yes, this is Flora. I wanted you to meet her. She helped me to settle down when I was left here, feeling like a fish out of water.’ She was never able to resist a sly dig.
Flora, however, winked at Jane as she shook hands with her. ‘Hello, Jane,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you and I’m very pleased to meet you. Take no notice of what your mother says. She’s had a whale of a time here, haven’t you, Alice?’
‘I’m pleased to meet you as well,’ said Jane. ‘Thank you for looking after Mother. I had guessed that things weren’t as bad as she was making out.’
‘Well, I must admit it’s been alright, all things considered,’ replied Alice. ‘I reckon it must be one of the best of these old folks’ homes.’
‘Now, come on, Alice,’ said her new friend. ‘You’ve said yourself that it’s not like an old folks’ home, it’s more like a three-star hotel.’
‘Did I say that? Oh well, maybe I did.’ Alice actually gave a chuckle, and Jane looked at her in amazement.
‘Well, I’m glad you’ve enjoyed yourself, Mother,’ she said. ‘I told you it would be OK when you got used to it.’
She glanced round the room. They were in a quiet corner, but there were several other men and women sitting near to the large television set, one or two others reading, and another lady happily knitting in a quiet corner.
Mrs Meadows arrived with the coffee in a silver pot, with china cups and saucers on the tray. We’re being treated like royalty, thought Jane, still mystified as to why her mother was not anxious to be on her way home. Flora set out the cups and saucers – four of them – on a small table.
‘I’ll go and ask Henry to join us,’ said Alice. She stood up, and with the aid of her stick, hobbled across to the television area. She returned with an elderly man, tall and upright and, to Jane’s eyes, still quite handsome.
‘This is Henry,’ said Alice, a trifle abruptly. ‘He’s another friend who’s helped to make it not so bad for me. This is my daughter, Jane.’
His handshake was firm, and there was a twinkle in his eye. ‘Hello, Jane,’ he said. ‘Good to meet you. Your mother is quite a character, isn’t she? Not so bad, though, when you get to know her and take her remarks with a pinch of salt. And I must say she plays a fair game of chess. She might even manage to beat me, one of these days.’
‘Oh, that’s good,’ said Jane, surprised at the revelation. ‘Yes, she used to play chess with my dad, but I never managed to learn … You didn’t tell me, Mother.’
‘There hasn’t been any chance, has there?’ said Alice rather sharply. ‘We had to do something to pass the time. You can’t sit watching telly all the while, like zombies.’
They drank their coffee and chatted for a while. It was mainly Flora and Henry who enquired about Jane’s holiday, appearing genuinely interested. It seemed that Flora had been something of a globetrotter in the past. She must be the one who, according to Alice, had more money than she knew what to do with, thought Jane. Flora remarked that the memories were still very precious. Henry, too, had enjoyed several holidays abroad. Mother hadn’t mentioned him during her phone calls, at least not to say that he was a friend. He might, however, be the one whose son was ‘living in sin’.
After a little while Henry and Flora left the mother and daughter on their own. ‘We’ll leave you to have a little talk together,’ said Flora. ‘Nice meeting you, Jane.’
Jane wondered when her mother would decide it was time to go home. She did not seem at all anxious to make a move.
‘You’ve made some nice friends here, Mother,’ she said. ‘You’ll be sorry to say goodbye to them. But I could bring you back to see them, sometime, if you feel like it. And fancy you tak
ing up chess again! Now that would be a good interest for you if you started playing again. I remember how good you were. You managed to beat Dad sometimes, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, so I did, but I’ve got a bit rusty with not playing for so long. I’ve told Henry that I’ll pop back – sometime – and we’ll have another game. And Flora … she’s a nice sort of woman. Had an easy life, though, since she married her second husband; never done a day’s work for goodness knows how long …’
‘She’s the one with more money than she knows what to do with, I take it?’
‘Yes, she is. But I must admit that she doesn’t boast about it, and she’s certainly not a snob. She was brought up quite ordinary, like the rest of us, until she married into money.’
‘And what about Henry? He seems a very pleasant sort of man. He’s certainly no fool. You couldn’t pull the wool over his eyes.’ And he’s got you weighed up, Mother, she thought, but didn’t say. She could imagine sparks flying between the two of them.
‘Yes, Henry’s OK,’ said Alice, briefly. ‘A bit argumentative, like, and always thinks he’s right. But he’s not so bad.’
‘Is he the one whose son has been married twice, and has a lady friend. You told me about him when I phoned you.’
‘Yes … yes he is. Actually, I met his son – Barry, he’s called – on Sunday afternoon, and his … friend. And I must admit she seems a nice sort of woman; homely and friendly and they’re obviously very happy together. I’d imagined some tarty, flashy sort of lass, but she’s not like that at all.’
Jane smiled to herself. ‘You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, Mother. Things aren’t always just as they seem.’
‘No, perhaps not. But I’ve always had my standards, Jane, you know that. I still think there’s too much chopping and changing of partners, these days. In my day marriage was for life, till death do us part. That was what we promised.’
‘Circumstances alter cases, sometimes,’ said Jane, cautiously. Could it be that there might be a slight glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel? Mother seemed to be a shade more tolerant after her stay here. ‘Anyway, we’ll get off now, shall we, if you’re ready? You’ve got your case packed, have you?’
First Impressions Page 26
