Page 16 of The Happiness Project

I feel quite at ease now; the pillion seat is like a big armchair and I imagine the trike itself can’t take corners at any scary angle, so I think Mum will be perfectly safe.

‘Eric will look after her,’ Ed says quietly. ‘He volunteers for the Make a Wish charity — lots of people want to go out on a Harley, so he’s used to it.’

I could hug this man. Despite our not making it to second base (do I really still say things like that? Apparently so), I can’t deny he’s a nice guy.

Patty and I mount the back of the bikes allocated to us — and she cannot resist a line about getting her leg over — then we’re off.

It is cold when we get going, no matter how many layers we’re sporting, so I’m glad when we get to our destination. I check that Mum is warm enough and she tells me that she’s completely toasty as her seat was actually heated. I might just wrestle her for it on the way back.

Inside the pub are a crowd of leather-clad men and women as well as some civvies. I can’t be certain but by the look of some of the other civilians, I think there might be a couple from that charity here. A man my age catches my eye as I’m surveying the crowd then nods at me so I return the greeting and walk over to him.

‘Do you have someone here?’ he asks and I tell him it’s my mum. He tells me he’s with his brother and points him out. From the lack of hair and eyebrows I guess he’s had cancer, which the man confirms.

‘Not sure how long he has but this is what he wanted to do; they’re an amazing bunch of people,’ the man says, and as I watch the brother cheering to the band who’ve just walked on stage, I realise just how true that statement is.

Grateful that my mum is only suffering from late-onset boredom, I head back to her and Eric. They start at the front near the stage and after a few very loud chords move to the back of the room and sit down, much to my relief. This biker music really isn’t my scene at all and I’m wondering whether I’ll be able to hear anything in the morning after this. Patty appears with a G&T in her hand.

‘The problem with biking is that if you’re at the front driving you can’t drink at all, and if you’re on the back you can only have one just in case you go sliding off when you go round a roundabout,’ she says, as if it’s a newly discovered scientific phenomenon. ‘They’re not really bad boys, are they?’

‘We can be,’ growls a passer-by with a wink.

The band starts playing a song that I actually know and I can feel the Numskulls flicking through the filing cabinet in my head to try and establish where I know it from.

‘Oh, we had this record,’ declares Mum and instantly I recall Dad playing it on our record player.

‘Your dad rushed out when it was first released and bought it from the record shop,’ she continues with a wistful smile on her face. ‘It had one of those big holes in the middle.’

‘Credence Clearwater Revival? You had an original copy of this song?’ asks Eric, looking impressed.

‘Oh, I don’t know who it is, but it was this song and he must have bought it around nineteen sixty-eight?’

‘Sixty-nine,’ Eric says. ‘That’s when it came out. Do you still have it?’

‘Oh, I never get rid of anything,’ replies Mum truthfully. ‘It’ll be in the attic somewhere with all of his other records. You can come and have a look if you like.’

Eric says that he’d love to, so Mum gives this Viking her phone number, which is something I never thought I’d see. I was just thinking that I’d better warn Dad what has happened when Mum rubs my arm and says, ‘Thank you, this has been lovely. I really must bring your dad here one day.’

And although I know she won’t set foot in this bar ever again, I’m mightily relieved to hear that the person she wants to share it with is Dad.

Chapter Nine: All By Myself

‘They were a great bunch of people, weren’t they?’ says Patty over breakfast the Sunday morning after Mum’s bike ride.

I nod through a mouthful of toast. I’ve often suspected that my best friend only asks questions when I have my mouth full so I won’t answer and therefore interrupt her flow.

‘It’s such a worthwhile charity too,’ she continues. ‘The chapter raises money for that charity as well as taking people out on the bikes, so I was wondering about offering to do a fundraising concert for them — what do you think?’

My mouth is still full but I note that she’s actually paused and is looking directly at me, waiting for an answer. I gulp down my slice of granary as quickly as possible and have a swig of tea to moisten my throat afterwards.

‘I think that would be a great idea,’ I say truthfully. ‘It would give you the chance to rehearse your new numbers too.’

‘Hmm, that’s what I was thinking; but we’d need a venue. I can’t see our usual crowd being happy in a biker bar.’

‘And I can’t see the chapter singing along to “Material Girl” either,’ I add, laughing.

Patty starts singing the lyrics as she tops up our coffee cups.

‘I could ask Michael,’ I suggest. ‘He must have information about all sorts of buildings and venues, mustn’t he?’

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