After I had researched for some time, I found a tour guide agency that suited my needs and contacted them by e-mail. They had responded quickly, and fortunately, there was a guide available despite the short notice. His name was Aaron, and he had promptly let me know that under the circumstances he would only be able to fit me in between his other bookings. That idea had suited me fine, for I felt a great need, which couldn't be explained, for exploring on my own. All that week, we had exchanged e-mails, planning my itinerary for the dates he was available.
With my vacation quickly coming into shape, there remained only one other issue to take care of and that was finding accommodations. Not wanting to stay in a hotel for the next couple of months, I had intended on finding a place to rent. The task, after a few days of searching, proved to be difficult. Feeling discouraged, I finally e-mailed Aaron and asked for his help. His reluctance was evident in his reply, but in the end, he had agreed. After several days of exchanging e-mails, Aaron had called to finalize my holiday plans, but sadly, that had not included accommodations. It was agreed that if he hadn't found anything before my arrival, I would stay at a bed and breakfast or hotel. Our conversation had been short, and I realized afterwards I hadn't told him my arrival time at Heathrow.
My call to Aaron would have to be quick. My eyes glanced at the clock again as my hand stretched for the phone. Just as I was about to pick up the receiver, it rang.
“Hello?” I half expected to hear my mother's voice again on the other end but prayed that it wasn't.
“Good morning, Krista, I hope I'm not troubling you.”
As soon as the caller spoke, relief washed over me – my prayer answered. The tension released from my shoulders as I sat on the bed. Words, coated with enthusiasm, spilled from my lips. There was a moment of silence, and then I realized my exuberance had caught him off guard.
“Sorry, I thought you might be someone else… and quite happy you aren't.”
“Oh, I see! Well I won't keep you; I just need to know your arrival into Heathrow and to let you know–”
“Just why I was about to call you,” I interrupted. “I should be there by nine-thirty A.M. Should I just take a cab to my accommodations – assuming I have a place to stay by then?” I rambled as I opened the nightstand drawer and began rifling through its contents, searching for a pen.
“I can pick you up if you'd like and take you to your accommodations, save you the extra cost.”
My muscles tensed a little and several thoughts bounced around my head. Should I take him up on his offer? The savings would be great, but is this really part of the deal? What do I do?
As though reading my thoughts, Aaron continued, “I have on occasion picked up clients and taken them to their lodgings, but if you prefer…”
“No, that's okay; I'll meet you at the airport. I just hope you'll have a place to take me to by then.” I half joked, still counting on him to find me an apartment to rent.
“Well, I have good news on that matter. As of last night, I managed to find…”
Aaron's voice began to fade. My mind filled with swirling thoughts. Visions of England flashed in my mind as though I was leafing through a travel magazine. My dream trip was becoming a reality. My heart pounded and a wide grin spread across my face. It took all my energy not to start bouncing up and down. Another thought flitted through my head and suddenly my smile disappeared and was replaced by a stomach filled with butterflies. I ran my hand through my hair and bit my lip.
“…It's a bit of a drive…” Aaron's voice broke through my jumbled thoughts only to fade away again.
Would it go as planned? Would it be everything that I imagined?
Apprehension was building in the pit of my stomach; it was as if a spark had suddenly burst into flame. I closed my eyes tightly and snuffed it out, staunching any negative thoughts. I forced myself back to reality, fully aware that everything Aaron had said was lost.
“Is that alright with you?” he asked.
I scrunched my forehead, searching my memory for even a trace of what he had said. My preoccupation with my own thoughts and feelings had blocked out just about everything. Closing my eyes, I attempted to make sense of the bits and pieces that floated around in my mind, while the silence between us grew.
“Hello? Are you still there?” he asked.
“I'm so sorry Aaron I was looking for a pen to write down the information and… I'm sorry, what did you say about where I would be staying?” The heat rose in my ears from embarrassment as I abandoned my feeble excuse. I covered the mouthpiece with my hand and exhaled, happy he couldn't see me.
“Bourton-on-the-Water in Gloucestershire. It's a small village about an hour and half drive from the airport.” There was no hint of irritation in his voice.
“So I guess that means you found a place for me to rent?” A wide grin crept across my face. The prospect of having my own place was exciting and it was all I could do to keep from sounding like a child on Christmas morning.
“Er… yes, as I said, it's a flat; I just hope it's what you are searching for.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. My hands stopped their hunt for the elusive pen, the drawer was so full of junk it was a wonder I could find anything at all.
“The thing is… you'll be staying at my aunt's,” he blurted, just as my eyes spotted a pen.
I was silent for a moment. “Your aunt's?”
“Let me explain.”
“Please do.”
Aaron began to clarify that his aunt's home had a vacant apartment on the second floor, and she was quite willing to rent it to me for the summer at a discount. He explained that she was a kind and loving woman and assured me she didn't gossip or meddle, her only fault being that she could be a bit chatty. It sounded perfect.
“So you have no objection?” Aaron asked when he finished his account.
“No, not at all, it sounds absolutely perfect!”
“Right then, well I guess that's it. If you have any questions just send an e-mail or ring, you have my number?”
I looked at his number on the piece of paper still clutched in my hand and circled it with the pen I'd retrieved from the drawer. “Yeah, I've got it right here.”
“Good, well I guess I will see you soon.”
“Yeah, I guess so… thank you so much and I'm sorry for being distracted, my mind wanders sometimes,” I confessed.
He laughed. “No worries, I too have that same affliction.”
We said our goodbyes and hung up. I put my notepaper and pen down on the nightstand and flopped back on my unmade bed. I groaned, embarrassed for admitting to him about my wandering mind. The whole trip still seemed surreal to me. It wasn't often that dreams came true, most especially mine. I laid there for a few minutes listening to the birds chirping outside, closing my eyes, and allowing myself to drift in and out of consciousness.
“Oh crap!” I sat up on my bed and looked at the clock; it was ten after nine. I was undeniably late, and my mother was not going to be impressed. If there was one thing she didn't like, it was tardiness, and short of death, there was no excuse.
I made my bed, quickly throwing the pale yellow and blue comforter on top of the crumpled sheets.
“That'll have to do.”
I picked up my book, returned the notepaper between the appropriate pages, and was suddenly preoccupied with the image of the ship on the front cover once again. As I stood there, I found myself immersed in memories from my dream.
Mary stood on the deck of a ship looking out at the people as they slowly pulled away from the docks. She searched the docks with her eyes, looking for someone. At long last, she saw him standing there; it was Thomas. Her heart sank when he waved and called to her. The ache in her chest grew stronger the further they drifted until eventually he disappeared under a thick blanket of fog. She felt sick to her stomach as tears slid down her cheeks. At that moment, Mary felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She turned and saw her father standing next to he
r. Without a word, he put his arm around her and gently guided her away, leading her to shelter.
I closed my eyes and shook my head, dislodging the image unfolding in front of me. When my eyes opened again, a single tear rolled down my cheek. I tasted its saltiness as it touched my lips, and I shivered. The tear dripped onto the notepaper, blurring Aaron's name.
Two
Being a private tour guide wasn't the profession Aaron Dyer had desired for himself; rather it found him when his lifelong friend, Peter, started the business. He had invited Aaron, who wasn't certain what he planned on doing with his life, to join him. The first five years went quickly, but now Aaron was beginning to find the job somewhat tedious. Though he enjoyed meeting new clients and showing them around the country he loved, it was becoming more difficult to show enthusiasm and appreciation for the same landmarks time and time again. He tried to make each tour unique, not just for the client but also for the sake of his own sanity.
Aaron hung up the phone and smiled as he replayed the conversation he'd just had with Krista. There was softness in her voice that comforted him, and he looked forward to meeting her.
When Aaron first received Krista's e-mail, he had assumed she would be no different from any of his other clients. He had even been prepared to decline her request for a tour guide. His schedule was busy enough, and on such short notice, he had thought it would be impossible to accommodate her. However, as he read her e-mail, he soon realized he had been mistaken. Though she had expressed some interest in a few of the usual tourist attractions, she was more interested in visiting smaller villages and the countryside. She wanted to explore, go on hikes, and spend time on her own. Moreover, unlike most of his clients who wanted to spend their entire vacation time in London, Krista had only wished to visit for a couple of days. Not all the tourist sites and landmarks seemed to excite her. After realizing what she had intended from her trip, Aaron knew that he could manage. He would fit her in amid his other clients during her extended stay, even if it meant he'd have to give up some of his own free time.
Aaron had responded to Krista directly, he felt thrilled by the challenge and spurred on by an almost instant renewed interest in his fortuitous occupation. There were, however, a couple of issues. The first was that he had a limited amount of time to spend with her. He would fit her in when he could, and when he couldn't, he wanted to ensure that she was staying somewhere interesting with plenty to do on her own. The second, and perhaps the most daunting task, was finding her suitable accommodations, a request she had made in a subsequent e-mail. Now he was not only tour guide, but estate agent as well.
Finally, after a week of planning Krista's itinerary, he was satisfied. It had taken up a lot of his time, and he'd spent every evening from both his office and home searching not only for destinations to take her to, but also for suitable lodgings – the latter being the most complicated. It wasn't until he'd spoken with his aunt that an idea occurred, and he'd finally found the perfect place for her to stay. He couldn't remember ever spending so much time on an itinerary, he was almost obsessed. With the planning stage finally over, Aaron could concentrate on his other patrons.
He sat at his desk and looked at his calendar to ensure that preparations were in order for his next clients. It would be a short excursion, and then he'd have a couple of days to rest. Before long, he was so absorbed in his work that when the phone rang, it startled him.
“Hello!” he said, his heart pounding a little faster than normal.
“Hello Aaron, it's Doc Broon,” said the serious and very familiar voice on the other end.
Doc Brown was the family physician and had been since Aaron was a young boy. He remembered the first time he'd met Doc Brown, and how he'd had a hard time understanding the Doc with his strong Scottish brogue.
“Is it Mum? Is she alright?” He ran a shaky hand through his this dark hair, unable to contain his worry.
“She's fine, nae changes to her condition, but I am a wee troubled. I've just come from visiting with her and her emotional state concerns me. She says she hasn't heard from ye this past week, and she's beginning to fash that she's becoming a burden.”
“What? Nah, I've just been busy with work, that's all. I'll come straight away and sort things out with Mum. I don't know why she would think that, she'll never be a burden to me.” Aaron rubbed his cheek, the stubble rough on his palm.
“I ken Aaron, but sometimes… well she hasn't much time, perhaps six months, maybe a year at the most. We need to keep her positive, despite the prognosis.”
“Yeah, sure doc. Thanks for keeping me informed. I'll come see her straight away. I'm done for today anyway, it'll be a nice drive.”
“All right, Aaron, mind as ye go and don't droon yourself in your work.”
“Yeah doc, I'll take your advice – for now anyway. Cheers.”
Aaron hung up the phone and put his head in his hands. He had been so worried about his mother since her diagnosis and never missed a visit or a call until that past week. He felt badly that his mother would even think of such a notion that she was becoming a burden to him. He silently promised himself that he wouldn't allow work to come ahead of family again. Aaron lifted his head, shut down the computer, and gathered his things before rising from his chair.
“Hey, where are you off to?”
Aaron looked up to see Peter standing in the doorway. “Going to see Mum.” Aaron pushed his chair back under the desk.
“Is she alright mate?” Peter folded his arms, leaned against the door jam, and looked intently at Aaron.
“Just a little depressed, I thought I'd go and cheer her up.”
“Can I come? You know she's always been like a mum to me too.”
Aaron remembered the many hours Peter had spent at his home when they were young boys. “Yeah, I think she'd like that, the more the merrier. Just give me a moment with her alone before you come and show your ugly face,” Aaron said, forcing a smile.
“Yours is uglier; but sure, I can do that.”
Three
Sheila Adams finally found a parking spot about two blocks away from the restaurant where she and Krista were going to have brunch. She looked at her watch; it was twenty-five past nine, she was ten minutes late.
“Damn,” she said.
In so many years, Sheila had never been late, not once, especially not when meeting with her daughter. She'd spent too much time and energy trying to set the perfect example that the expression 'better late than never' didn't exist for Sheila. Still, she was late. She couldn't tell Krista about Jim, it wasn't the right time, yet she could not think of an excuse. She only hoped Krista wouldn't ask her why she was late, or even better, be late herself.
Sheila shrugged. “Oh well,” she said and got out of her car.
When she reached the line-up, Sheila searched the small crowd of people waiting to get in and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that Krista wasn't among them. She joined the others as the doors opened and filed into the restaurant. Sheila headed for a corner table at the back; she wanted to sit somewhere that was somewhat private. She had much to discuss with her daughter, and she didn't want too many ears to hear their conversation.
Sheila sat facing the window and looked at her watch again. Where is she? Before her overactive imagination came up with some horrible reason for Krista's lateness, a server approached the table.
“Good morning,” the server said in a cheery voice. “Are you dining alone or is someone joining you?”
“I'm waiting for someone, thank you.” Sheila smiled pleasantly at the young girl. She reminded her of Krista, only with darker hair.
“Can I get you anything to start while you wait for your guest?” The server returned the smile.
“Yes, a tea please.”
The server nodded and walked away, leaving Sheila staring out the window once again, wondering where Krista was.
“Sheila!” A voice coming from a neighbouring table interrupted her thoughts. Sheila turned and saw
a woman with a smile on her face approaching her.
“Grace! Please sit down.” She motioned to the seat across from her. “How long has it been?” Sheila reached across the table and patted Grace's hand.
“Too long. Are you here alone?”
“Not for long, Krista is joining me.” Sheila watched as Grace began to dig through her purse searching for something. At last, she found what she was looking for and she handed a small album to Sheila.
“Take a look at these; I'm a grandmother now!” A wide grin stretched across Grace's face as Sheila took the small album from her hands.
“Oh! They're beautiful, how nice for you, and twins even!” Sheila's voice tainted with jealousy. Grace, however, engrossed with showing off pictures of her new grandchildren, didn't seem to notice the change in Sheila's tone.
“And what about you?” Grace sounded haughty. “I'm sure Krista has, by now, given you some lovely grandchildren of your own?”
Always such a meddler, Sheila thought as she put on her best fake smile. If she thinks for even one minute that I am jealous of her, she'll take it as far as she can. No, I mustn't let on for even a second. She has always tried to 'one-up-me' but not this time though, I won't let her.
“Grandchildren! Oh goodness no, I am far too young looking to be a grandmother just yet, but it suits you. You fit very well into the grandmother role. Besides, Krista has a wonderful career as a teacher. No, I can wait a bit longer.” Sheila smiled at Grace who no longer sat with a smug look on her face. “Speak of the devil, there's Krista now.”
Grace turned to look out the window. “Yes, well,” she said rising from her seat, running a hand through her silver hair. “I better go rejoin my husband. It was nice to see you again.” Her pursed lips relaxed into a smile.
Sheila echoed the sentiment in words and tone. “Yes, you, too. Maybe we can have lunch some time. Old friends are hard to come by, especially as we get older.” Sheila stood and hugged Grace. They smiled at each other one last time before Grace returned to her table.
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