The Old Ducks' Hen Do, page 12
Juliette poured herself some coffee and made a dismissive noise. ‘His loss, that’s what I say.’
‘Me too,’ Kim said.
There was a sizzling sound as Sophia poured the eggs into the pan, and we all turned to sniff appreciatively.
‘So have the chaps next door gone? For their exciting wetlands tour?’ Sophia asked.
‘All except Bruno,’ I said, and felt my cheeks flush.
Juliette pointed at me. ‘Blushing, blushing, Denny. Shall I go next door and tell him my friend fancies him?’
‘No! Anyway, he wants…’
Juliette came to sit beside me and dug an elbow in my ribs.
‘Wants what? A night of unbridled passion? The chance to feel your lips on his as he holds you in a tender embrace. The stars shimmering overhead in a dark, velvet sky?’
‘Oooh, that sounds nice,’ Kim said, ‘did he say any of that? My clothes would fall off in a trice if anyone said that to me. Well, unless I was wearing magic knickers. I’d need help with those. Probably a crowbar.’
I threw her a look and sighed. ‘No, he didn’t say anything like that. He just wants to talk.’
‘That’s a new word for it,’ Sophia chuckled.
‘He does!’
I think I was puce with embarrassment by that point.
‘Then talk to him,’ Sophia said, ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’
‘Stop saying that,’ I said, ‘we all know the worst that can happen in these situations. I mean how do I deal with a man who ghosted me over thirty years ago?’
Juliette snorted. ‘One strike and you’re out, that’s my motto. I’d had my suspicions for years, but when I found out about what Gary had been doing for sure, I had his stuff out on the driveway before he came home from work. And I pushed a chest of drawers in front of the door so he couldn’t get in. I only let him back in once to get his personal stuff, including a bottle of artificial pheromones he had bought from the internet and hidden in his sock drawer. Supposed to attract women.’
‘Well, he would say it worked,’ Kim said, ‘if women are attracted to the smell of lying pig.’
‘I would talk to Bruno,’ Sophia said after a moment. ‘What is it people on American talk shows are always on about? Closure.’
‘Hmm, I thought I had that already,’ I said. ‘There’s nothing like a man promising undying passion and then disappearing to give you closure. But then I’m beginning to see that it was my fault too. and it’s making me feel rather foolish.’
‘He might have been ill, in hospital with amnesia,’ Kim said, gazing into the far distance, ‘tended by French nuns in giant wimples who couldn’t understand his feverish mumblings.’
‘For the best part of forty years? I don’t think that’s likely,’ I said. ‘He was travelling all over the world and teaching.’
While I had put my dreams on hold and led a rather dull life, avoiding any possibility of commitment. Bruno was right; I did have issues. I needed to accept that.
‘Well, I wasted five years of my life with someone who wouldn’t commit. Leaving was the best thing I ever did,’ Sophia said. ‘I definitely wouldn’t be happy. I wouldn’t be here for a start if I had still been with Lucien.’
There it was again, that ‘if’ word.
If I talked to Bruno. If I found out what had happened. If I took a chance.
‘He wants us to have a date. To take me out for a drink, or a meal,’ I said.
I could feel my resolve strengthening. I did want to talk to him, I did want to find out ‘what if’ after all. I wanted us to be friends again.
‘Now that’s more like it,’ Juliette said.
Sophia brought over the pan and placed it on some heatproof mats in the middle of the table.
‘Ooof, that’s heavy. While you are thinking, try this,’ she said. ‘I was supposed to be dumping it out onto a platter, but I haven’t got the strength. It might end up on the floor.’
‘I’d still eat it,’ Kim said, taking a forkful from the pan, ‘this is absolutely delicious.’
‘So?’ Juliette said when we had worked our way through most of our breakfast and were on to a second pot of coffee. ‘Bruno the Bear?’
‘He does look a bit like a bear, actually,’ Kim said thoughtfully. She topped up her glass of orange juice and took a swig. ‘Sort of big and thoughtful. And hairy. Is Bruno particularly hairy?’
‘As I recall, a bit,’ I said.
‘I once went out with a chap who was like Chewbacca, from Star Wars. He even had huge, hairy feet,’ Juliette said.
‘Wouldn’t that make him a Hobbit?’ I asked.
Juliette lifted one eyebrow. ‘There was nothing small about Alex, I can assure you. He was good fun, even quite thoughtful occasionally.’
‘So why did you end it?’ Kim asked in astonishment.
‘The Hoover kept clogging up. And the shower drain. It was like living with an Old English sheepdog.’
We all pulled disgusted faces.
‘I don’t think bears are thoughtful except when they are trying to decide which hiker to eat first,’ Kim said after a while.
‘The slowest one,’ I said.
‘Are you supposed to run from bears or play dead?’ Juliette asked. ‘I’ve often wondered.’
I helped myself to some orange juice. ‘It’s supposed to be different with black bears and brown ones. But I can’t remember which. Anyway, they can both probably run faster than I can and climb trees a lot better.’
‘When you decide to hike the Appalachian trail we’ll go together,’ Kim said, ‘I can’t run three paces without falling over. You’d be quite safe.’
I reached over and patted her hand. ‘Never going to happen,’ I said, ‘but thank you for the thought.’
‘Now then, what are we going to do with the rest of the morning?’ Juliette asked. ‘What’s on the spreadsheet, Kim?’
Kim rummaged in her yellow folder and unfolded the battered sheet of paper.
‘Nothing in particular. We were supposed to be getting the bus to Alcudia, but it’s a bit late now, we can always do that another day. Anyway, now we have the boat trip this afternoon, which is much more exciting, if the chaps next door aren’t devoured by black vultures or red kites.’
‘Oooh, some of that twitching is rubbing off on you. You’re spending far too much time with Vince,’ Sophia giggled.
Kim bridled a bit. ‘I told you; I like him, actually. Despite the cravats. And he knows a lot about car maintenance. He rotates his car tyres every year. He’s offered to rotate mine.’
‘I bet he has,’ Juliette snorted.
Sophia started stacking the empty plates. ‘So are we going out at all this morning?’
We all looked at each other and shrugged.
Juliette spoke up. ‘I’m quite happy slobbing about here until the chaps get back. It’s a lovely morning. We could sit outside in the sun and read. Or just chat and have some more coffee. And tell Denny what she should do.’
‘I don’t need to be told, I just need to think,’ I said, ‘and people keep distracting me.’
We cleared up the kitchen and the others made some more coffee and went out onto the patio.
‘This is the life,’ Kim sighed happily, ‘no one can get at me here. No one can pester me for anything. No one can ring me up asking for a lift home. Or ask me for money.’
‘Lend us a fiver?’ I said.
Kim rolled her eyes at me and took out her mobile.
‘Talking about phones, can anyone advise me about taking selfies? I’ve tried so many times and every time I look like some weird, wild-haired terrier.’
‘You have to hold the phone up high,’ Juliette said, ‘and find out which is your best side. And never stand on the edge of a group photograph. It adds pounds.’
‘So that’s where I’ve been going wrong,’ Kim said. ‘I must have spent my whole life metaphorically on the edge of a group photograph. I’ll remember that when it comes to the wedding pictures.’
Much as I was enjoying myself, I needed ten minutes to think about the present, to think about Bruno.
I got up from my sun bed. ‘I’ll go to the shop at the end of the road and buy some more milk. Anyone need anything?’
A few minutes later, I left the villa and turned left towards the end of the road. I knew there was a small shop there which sold the basics and the owner spoke pretty good English.
There was the bluest of skies above me and I took in a deep breath of warm air, closing my eyes against the sun.
‘Where are you off to?’ said a voice.
I turned, my spirits lifting as I saw it was him.
‘Hello, Bruno,’ I said, ‘I’m going to buy some milk. Have you been lurking, waiting for me?’
‘Not at all, I never lurk. I’m just sorting out my car. It’s taken them no time at all to fill it with mud and rubbish.’ Bruno held up a black bin liner as evidence and dropped two empty water bottles and a sandwich wrapper into it as evidence. ‘Johnny’s car is like a skip, the side pockets are always filled with empty crisp packets and half-eaten chocolate bars, so I shouldn’t be surprised he’s the same here.’
I walked over and stood watching as he grabbed a discarded coffee cup from under the passenger seat.
‘You always did like your car to be tidy,’ I said, ‘remember the incredible fuss you made about someone putting apple cores in the ashtray?’
‘How could I forget? I still think it was you.’
I laughed. ‘It certainly was not! Well, it might have been.’
‘So are you free tomorrow evening? I thought we could go out for a meal, or just a drink if you wanted to?’
‘No, I can’t leave Juliette on her own,’ I said, ‘it’s not good form to abandon the bride on her hen holiday.’
‘Well, in that case, Johnny was talking about inviting you all over to our place tomorrow evening. He’s brought a game with him called Time’s Up. He thought it might be fun.’
‘A board game? Is that a good idea? They always seem to end in an argument.’
Growing up, Juliette had been fiercely competitive when it came to that sort of thing. I remembered one Easter holiday when we had played Monopoly for hours at a time, and by the time she went back to university, we were barely speaking.
‘What do you think?’ he said.
I looked at him, his face different and yet so familiar. I remembered how we had once been so close, inseparable. How all those years ago we had spent every moment together, holding hands, having fun, wanting each other with a passion so fierce. Too hot not to cool down, my mother had said.
And now, had that fire really died down, or was there something about all this that was rekindling it? Some last little spark of recognition, of regret, of ‘what if’.
‘Maybe,’ I said at last, ‘anyway, I’m off to buy some milk, can’t stop.’
‘I’ll ask you again,’ Bruno called after me.
I walked down the road, feeling distinctly positive about things. He wanted to take me out and he would ask me again. It really was like being a teenager.
Maybe there was a way to work through all this after all.
10
The birdwatchers returned at lunch time. We knew because we were out on our patio and could hear them over the hedge, noisily comparing notes and arguing. Perhaps hours of being really quiet had been too much of a strain on them. They had seen something very exciting apparently, and Doggie had taken dozens of pictures.
‘I think it’s the best thing we’ve seen in a long time,’ Vince said, ‘a sub-alpine warbler. Just sitting there. Red underparts, white moustaches, and everything.’
‘Red underpants and moustaches? I wonder if it said dondé es el gato?’ I murmured.
Juliette giggled.
‘I’m not entirely convinced,’ Johnny said, sounding a bit peeved.
‘Well, if you had listened to me and Doggie and not gone off looking for wrynecks, even though you were told it was too early…’
‘Show me that photo again, Doggie,’ Johnny grumbled. There was a long silence and then, ‘Oh, well.’
Juliette stood up and called through the gate.
‘So? Had a good time?’
‘Yes, absolutely,’ Vince replied, looking over the hedge, ‘early start but worth it. Now, are you ladies still on board for the boat trip? See what I did there? On board?’
I turned to raise a questioning eyebrow at Kim, who blushed and pouted.
‘I’ll be there, Vince,’ she called.
‘Excellent news. I think we all need a quick shower to get the mud off, and then I’ll be right with you, don’t forget we are having lunch on the boat,’ he said, and hurried away into the villa.
‘You Jezebel,’ I said to Kim, who looked pleased. ‘But apparently you are officially not as interesting as a sub-alpine warbler.’
‘Not yet I’m not,’ she said, ‘no bird is going to get the better of me. Just give me time.’
‘We had better get some warm clothes on. It can be breezy on boats,’ Juliette said, collecting her coffee cup from the table. ‘We need to be ready in twenty minutes. And don’t forget your swimming things, and a towel.’
‘Oh dear, do we have to? That might put him off a bit,’ Kim said.
When we were all ready, we walked down to the harbour; it was a beautiful afternoon. The sun was warm in our faces, a slight breeze from the Mediterranean blowing inland. There were people everywhere, but because it was still low season, it wasn’t too crowded. The only problem was still the skeins of cyclists which appeared suddenly and silently from time to time, pedalling furiously, their faces set with dust and determination.
‘Vince told me some of them are professional teams, they come here to do their winter training,’ Kim said as we waited for the latest group to pass us. ‘They like the steep roads and the hair-pin bends.’
We gazed after them.
‘They must have legs like iron bars,’ Juliette said, ‘and a lot of stamina. Quite sexy really, I suppose.’
‘Hmm,’ I said thoughtfully, ‘but nothing can make up for those padded gel trousers they wear. I’m sure those saddles must be incredibly uncomfortable, but even so.’
We passed a tourist information centre, with a wire rack filled with leaflets and books in several languages. Next door was a spotlessly clean public loo, which Kim was very keen to take advantage of.
‘I told you, things have never been the same since I had the kids. Never miss an opportunity, that’s what I say,’ she said, sliding the door closed behind her.
Once everyone was comfortable and sunglasses and our yellow duck hats had been donned, we made our way to the quayside, where the boat was waiting for us. Gleaming white and trimmed with blue, it looked very exciting.
There was a shout behind us.
‘Hold up, ladies!’
And there was Vince, puffing towards us, a huge camera bag slung over one shoulder and a water bottle decorated with birds in his other hand.
‘Lovely day for it,’ he said, ‘the others are just coming. Those team hats you are wearing was a brilliant idea. I could see you miles away. I thought I would run ahead to make sure you had got here all right.’
‘Vince, it’s a ten-minute walk,’ Kim said, ‘we were hardly going to get lost. We’re not daft, you know.’
‘No, of course not,’ he said, chastened, ‘it’s just my ex-wife could get lost in a supermarket, she had such a terrible sense of direction. She was always slipping off and disappearing. She went missing for hours sometimes, especially at the weekends. I used to worry about her.’
‘Well, that’s very thoughtful,’ Kim said a little more kindly, ‘but you don’t need to worry about us. We all have geography O level, and Juliette probably has a Guide badge.’
His round face cleared, and he wiped a handkerchief over his sweating forehead.
‘Of course. Now, can I help you with your bags?’
‘You’ve got more to carry than we have by the looks of it,’ I said. ‘Ah, here come the others.’
Johnny, Doggie, and Bruno were strolling along the quayside towards us. Johnny and Doggie in many-pocketed shorts and Hawaiian shirts and Bruno in jeans and a black T-shirt. He really did look marvellously attractive. Had he always been that handsome? I suppose he had. Anyway, at that moment someone lowered the metal gangway, and I hurried on board, following Juliette, who wanted to know if there was a bar.
‘Well, this is nice,’ she said, settling herself in a seat next to the window. ‘Tables and everything. I’m looking forward to this. Although I never was a very good sailor. I remember a trip I took with Charlie. He had a boat, and we were supposed to be going across the Bristol channel but there was a force-six gale blowing and we never got anywhere. Still, we positively surfed back to Penarth once he turned the boat around. I think I might be better on a cruise ship, actually.’
I watched as Bruno and his friends wandered around. Then Luis, the captain, who had the strong features, dark eyes, and proud nose of a true Spaniard, appeared, and clapped him on the back and wanted to be introduced to everyone.
After a good few minutes when Luis and Bruno chatted away in Spanish, he disappeared back to his post, wishing us all a pleasant trip.
It was rather sexy, actually, listening to Bruno talking in a foreign language. I’d forgotten about that. I remembered a time when he had wooed me in Italian and Spanish and occasionally French. It had worked every time. Even though one evening he confessed that while I thought he had been murmuring words of love, he had been talking to me about his need to get his car serviced, and his concerns about the front passenger tyre.
Then the gangway was raised and with a sudden, slow revving of the engines, we were off.
As we moved out of the harbour, we could see more of the coast. White houses, villas perched up on the cliffs, apartment blocks and hotels, although none of the high-rise buildings I had expected. Perhaps there were more strict planning regulations here?
I could see a white bus, labouring slowly up the slope on the mountain above us, I guessed it was on its way to Cap Formentera, just as we were, but our way was surely much easier and just as pleasant. And we couldn’t exactly plunge off the side of a hair-pin bend and crash into the rocks below.
