“It’s okay, Momma, I’m sure we just haven’t got to it yet.” Mary observed her mother. Her intuition told her all she needed to know. “Don’t worry, if we’ve missed it we’ll just get another ticket back and ask the conductor which station we need to get off at. It’s alright.”
She patted her mother as the train came to a halt finally and gave her a reassuring smile. Staring through the window they saw the sign on the station platform stating large and loud they were now in Faro. Following the throng of other holiday makers and locals, they disembarked onto the busy platform with relieved laughs.
“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Mary took her mother’s arm.
They followed the crowd out of the station and onto the main road that lead into the town itself. Unlike the little villages, this was a real town with large buildings towering above them. They walked down the long boulevard into the town centre, heads spinning from one side of the road to the other taking in the mixture of modern and Moorish architecture.
The obvious first stop was a small café for a well-earned coffee and a pastry.
The two of them looked around at the milling shoppers and workers in both amusement and amazement. Neither of them had ever experienced city life at home, and abroad it was a bigger thrill. They sat sipping the hot coffee and nibbling on their food as they people watched.
“This is good, but we came for clothes and I haven’t seen anything like a clothes shop, Mom,” Mary said eventually.
“Well they all gotta dress, right? They don’t all sit home making the stuff like Gramma would. I’m sure they have clothes shops. Let’s get these finished and go find some,” Lillian replied, slurping the last creamy dregs of her coffee.
Mary took out her phone and prodded for the translator and rather proudly paid for the coffee and food. Then the clothing search began.
They hadn’t gone far before they came across a small bazaar run by two Indian women. Small on the outside perhaps, but inside it seemed to have endless aisles of all manner of clothing. They wandered the aisles for an age, passing each other to compare selections, coming together to swap choices and all the time accompanied by the two Indian women both offering suggestions and sizes.
As they made their way to the front of the store with their choices, they looked at each other in shock.
“Is this it then? We don’t need to go anywhere else. That was easy,” Lillian said, laughing.
“I don’t think we could carry much more if we wanted to,” Mary agreed, pulling out her wallet.
“Are you sure we need all this?” Lillian asked Mary, nodding at the huge mountain they’d selected.
“Well, yes. We need suitable stuff and this is it. We might as well get it all in one place I reckon. Cheer up Mom. We don’t get to do this every day,” Mary teased her mother, passing over her card for swiping.
“Just as well your dad isn’t here. He would throw a fit seeing me buying clothes like some runway model. You’re right. Once in a lifetime needs once in a lifetime treats,” Lillian said.
They waddled out of the small shop loaded up with bags and headed towards the seafront to find another well-deserved coffee. As they got towards the front they found themselves in a large throng of people milling around a large group of huge white tents. Towards the centre of the little tent city, they found an area of tables and chairs set out and plonked themselves down.
“There seems to be some sort of fair going on,” Lillian said as she scanned the crowd around them. “Maybe we have to pay to sit here,”
“No Madam, you don’t need to pay to sit down, but I would recommend you buy yourself a ticket to try the wine. It is quite wonderful,” a voice said from behind.
Sitting in a chair at an adjoining table, Lillian stared into the handsome face of a tall, dark Mediterranean looking man.
“I beg your pardon?” Lillian stuttered, both shocked at his impeccable English and his good looks.
“It’s a wine tasting, Madam. You go to that tent there,” he said pointing to one of the tents on the side, “And buy yourselves a wrist band. They will give you a glass and you can sample all the fine wines here.” The man raised his own glass to her and turned back to his table to converse with the well-dressed young lady he was with.
“Well, I don’t mind if I do. I’m about ready for a drink. Would you go and take a look how much it costs, Mary? I’ll watch the bags and rest my legs just now if you don’t mind,” Lillian said.
“Fine, Mom. Have a sit and give me a minute. If it’s too expensive we’ll just go find a cola somewhere okay?” Mary replied.
Mary headed over to the ticket tent and came back with a wrist band for them both and two glasses.
“Thought we’d start with this white one okay? The woman selling the bands said it was a good place to start,” Mary said as she settled down in the chair next to Lillian.
The woman had been right. The wine was light, fresh and crisp and not too dry. They both loved it. Lillian turned around to thank the man in the seat behind her and he in turn made some of his own recommendations, which they were happy to try. As the afternoon wore on the several wine servings were beginning to take their toll, and both Mary and Lillian were noticing the effects.
“I think, daughter dear, it might be wise if we attempt to find our way back to the train station. Don’t want to keep young Ben waiting all night for us now do we?” Lillian snickered as she downed the last of her wine.
“I think you might be right. I didn’t realise we’d spent so long here. Wonderful though, isn’t it? Maybe we should start something like this in town when we get back,” Mary replied, standing up and gathering bags.
They said their farewells to the man and his companion, and set off back the way they’d come. It was a long walk back up the hill to the train station, and the pair called for another coffee on the way, but soon they were back on the platform just as the train was pulling in to the station.
“Are we sure this is ours?” Lillian enquired as Mary scanned the name on the train.
“I guess they either run that way or the other way, Mom. Along the coast see?” Mary replied pointing to the notice board with the train layout on it.
They climbed aboard and Mary more confidently ordered and paid for their tickets.
The train had barely left the station before Lillian dozed off as the train rocked her to sleep.
Mary gazed out of the window, watching the landscape fall away as they sped along the track following the beautiful sandy coastline and the crystal clear sea. Mary was convinced it was the most wonderful place she’d ever seen in her life. Even better than in books or TV. She too drifted into a peaceful slumber as the train rolled on.
Mary woke with a jolt as a train guard shook her shoulder. She looked up at him confused and then out of the window. The train had stopped and the platform seemed unusually quiet.
“Hello?” Mary tried with the guard as she shook her mother to wake her up
The guard started pointing at the ticket in her hand and made a lot of gesticulating and ranting in their general direction. Mary, still groggy and totally confused, tried again.
“English? Do you speak English, sir? I do not understand,” she tried pitifully.
“Ah, English, of course, I should have known. You have not paid for your tickets, madam. You only paid to Livramento,” the guard replied, pointing at their tickets.
“Well, have we passed Livramento, sir? We really need to get off there. Our friend is meeting us,” Mary replied.
“Then your friend will be disappointed madam. Here in Spain, we take ticket jumping very seriously indeed,” the guard replied.
Lillian reached across from her seat towards the guard, now awake and terrified.
“Spain? We’re in Spain? Oh God, no! We need to be in Portugal! In Livramento! Please don’t put us in jail. I have heard awful things about Spanish jails,” she shrieked. Her eyes were round with fear and the guard saw tears forming in her eyes as she started to sniffle.
“I’m too old to be going to jail.”
“Jail? Oh no, I don’t think you’ll be going to jail. But you’ll have to buy new tickets. And get on the proper train, of course. I think we will let you off the visit to jail. This time,” the guard replied, grinning at his partner who had arrived to help handle the situation.
“We’re Americans, you know? On vacation. We haven’t been here long. I’m very sorry, sir. Could you point us in the right direction for Portugal?” Mary asked.
“Ah, Americana? Yes, that makes sense. Follow me please, ladies,” the guard said as he nodded and smiled to his colleague, escorting Mary and Lillian off the train. “This train will be going to Seville. A wonderful city. Most beautiful. But not where you want to be going.”
Mary and Lillian followed obediently behind the guard as he escorted them to the platform where they would find their train back to Portugal. With a flourish he printed off two tickets.
“Americana Ladies, the next train will be yours. Stay awake and alert, please. The tickets this time are free, a gift from the wonderful country of Spain. But please, do not do this again, or it may be the Spanish jail. Enjoy your vacation,” the guard said, tipping his head and leaving them on the platform.
“Oh good grief! What on earth have we done?” Lillian gasped as she took a seat on a platform bench.
Mary shrugged. “We fell asleep and missed our stop. I’m sure plenty of people do it all the time. It was very kind of him to sort our tickets though. What a delightful man.”
“You’d best call Ben. Let him know what happened and that we aren’t in some jail cell rotting somewhere,” Lillian replied with a tired sigh as she closed her eyes.
Ben was sat out in his courtyard, gazing at his laptop screen and pondering. He had written a good article that contrasted the wonders of wild flamingos in the nature reserve and the excitement of paragliding over the pristine waters of the sea. Readers liked that sort of thing. The excitement mixed with the calm. It covered a lot of bases. Those that wanted to spend hours looking at wildlife and water could still feel they were in an exciting place, and those full of adventure and drama could tell their mothers about the wind in their hair as they went paragliding. Something for everyone in there, Ben thought, as his phone vibrated on the table.
He reached down to pick up the phone didn’t recognise the number. Mary, of course. They would be in Livramento waiting for him. He answered the phone.
“Ben? Is that you, Ben? It’s Mary.” Her panicked tone set him on edge immediately.
“Hello. I guess you’re waiting for me to pick you up?” He hoped, but her tone warned him something was wrong.
“No, well not just yet.”
“I thought you’d be back by now?”
“Yes, yes we should have. But we seem to be in Spain. You know, that country next door?” She sounded rather sheepish and he had to smother a chuckle.
“Yes, I know Spain. For some reason, I am not in the least bit surprised. Let me know when you get to Livramento and I’ll be right there.” This time he let the chuckle come through, it sounded like she needed some reassuring.
“Thank you, Ben. I knew you’d understand. I’ll talk to you later.”
Ben laid the phone down on the table and smiled. Then he laughed. He closed his laptop and laughed some more as he went in to make himself a mug of tea. No sense in rushing. They would be at least another hour. Time enough to water the plants he’d missed earlier. Only those two could go out for a simple trip into town and end up in Spain. Chaos did seem to follow them at times. He felt some of the tiredness seeping from his body as he thought about Mary and couldn’t wait to pick her up from the train. There was going to be one kicker of a story coming his way.
Chapter 9
It was almost noon the next day when Ben made his way to the barn to see how his two American neighbours were bearing up. He hadn’t heard a peep from them all morning and was beginning to worry.
“Is anyone alive?” Ben called as he opened the wooden gate.
“We’re in the garden, come on through,” Mary called back.
Ben made his way into the garden and found them both stretched out on sun loungers.
“Well, look at you two! Going for the fastest tan record. I brought you lunch,” Ben said, smiling as he lay down a large tray on the table.
“Lunch?” Lillian said as she sat up looking across to Ben. “Someone mention lunch?”
“Well it’s mojito’s and some olives, cheese and bread. Just a light lunch,” Ben replied, taking a seat at the garden table.
Mary and Lillian made their way to the table, covering themselves in the new colourful wraps they’d bought the day before in Faro.
“So are we recovered?” Ben asked, smiling at them both.
“Recovered but having a “Safe” day.” Mary smiled back.
“Safe? What on earth is a safe day?” Ben asked, raising an eyebrow.
“One where we don’t get into any mischief or trouble. One where we stay home and do our best not to break anything, whether it’s a glass or a law. Just lie here in the sun and be no bother,” Lillian piped up, testing the mojito. “Though I have to say, these cocktails are damned fine, thank you, Ben.”
Ben laughed as he pushed the plate of food towards them.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about your train trip. You did well. I’ll bet half the holidaymakers that come here make that mistake once in a while. And you’re back safe and sound so no problem right? Now you can tell everyone you’ve been to Spain as well as Portugal.”
“Well, putting it like that, I guess yes, we can say we’ve been to Spain,” Mary said, laughing. “It was pretty terrifying at the time, though, I can tell you. Lucky the guy spoke English. I don’t have Spanish on my translator.”
Between them, they told Ben all about their journey into the unknown on a train. The two women had been so exhausted and looked so sheepish when he picked them up he’d brought them straight home, both chattering away, and insisted they go relax in the air conditioner. They’d left him gratefully and disappeared into the barn. The lights hadn’t stayed on long. They told him about the wine tasting festival and of their impressions of Spain. Both animated as they chattered, Ben made no attempt to stop them even though they’d gone through the whole story the night before as he’d driven them home.
“Should I get us some more mojitos?” Ben asked as he collected the empty glasses from the table.
“Oh yes please, they’re delicious. You’re a man of many talents it seems,” Mary replied passing him her empty glass. She gave him a look full of meaning before he walked away, his body tightening as she looked at him.
Ben made his way next door as the two women settled back on their loungers laughing and chattering.
“So?” Lillian asked as soon as Ben was out of earshot.
“So what?” Mary replied, knowing the question and blushing as she held her mother’s gaze.
“So, are you going to make a move or are you waiting for him to make one? He is quite a catch. Sooo well-spoken and smart. Nothing like that trashy waste of air you were going to get hitched to,” Lillian replied.
“Mom, I hardly know the guy. Yes, he seems wonderful and all but, I don’t know. He’s English. There’s a reason they always put an Englishman as the bad guy in movies, right? Maybe there’s more to him than we know, hiding out here in the middle of nowhere. Let’s see, shall we?” Mary blurted out her thoughts, trying to talk sense into herself.
“The way I see it, the guy can take care of himself and is handsome as hell. So was your daddy of course, years ago, but he’s let himself go a bit. Well a lot, but Ben knows how to take care of himself and knows stuff. He even speaks Portuguese. And he makes one hell of a mojito,” Lillian replied, smiling. She turned her head to the gate as she finished to acknowledge Ben returning with a tray of fresh drinks.
“Here you go, ladies. One more and I’ll let you get back to your sun worshipping. I have a bit more work to get done today
after this,” Ben said as he placed the drinks on the garden table.
“Oh?” Mary exclaimed somewhat disappointed. “Well how about later? Maybe we could cook some more on the grill? We seem to have loaded that freezer with meat and you’re such a good cook I’d almost think you were American.”
“Sure, I’ll come back round later to see how you’re all doing, but I really do have to get this work finished today. It pays for the mojitos right?” Ben replied, smiling. “Not sure about the American bit but sure, I’ll be glad to do the cooking.”
As the sun warmed the patio they sat and enjoyed the beauty of the surrounding garden in silence, broken only by the singing of birds and the occasional buzz of a passing scooter heading along the lane.
Lillian looked up into the large old carob tree that hung over a secluded arch that led onto the lawn. She jumped up with a start.
“That is one giant rat!” she exclaimed, pointing up to the tree.
“A rat? Where?” Mary squealed, jumping up too.
She followed Lillian’s pointing finger up into the tree to see two large furry rats chomping on the carob fruits.
“Oh dear god! Why did nobody mention the huge rats here?” Mary exclaimed.
“Relax, relax. They’re just fruit rats. They certainly won’t bother you. They just eat the fruits on the trees,” Ben said.
“Well I sure don’t like the idea of rats near the house. They don’t look like they’re worried about us looking at them,” Lillian said.
“Luckily for us, the snake will probably hunt them down later, so you won’t have to worry about them at all,” Ben replied, looking very casual.
“SNAKE! Did you just say “snake”? Oh dear lord, I hate snakes. Where is it? Tell me you’re joking about the damn snake, Ben. If you are, it isn’t funny! You said there weren’t any the other night. Oh my God, snakes.” Mary wrapped her hands around her upper arms and shuddered.
Professor next Door Page 79
