Page 3 of The Happiness Project

Sure enough, she’s straight back and putting her coat on.

‘Don’t know how I’m supposed to keep my energy up without any sustenance in the place. I really don’t know how you two cope without me.’

With that, she heads out the door and disappears into the convenience shop across the road. I use the moment of peace to talk business.

‘Have we had many enquiries over the break?’

Charlie nods, taking me over to his desktop.

I look at the Mercury Travel inbox and see it’s absolutely chock-a-block; I clap my hands together in delight.

Last year we launched the Mercury Travel Club, aimed at creating a loyal base of customers for the business — after all, it’s pretty tough working in travel and online aggregators can always undercut us on prices. We developed something a bit different, producing a calendar of events and trips that brought people together for an adventure. After my divorce we realised that all of us working for the agency were single. None of us particularly fancied singles trips — we wanted more of an amiable, inclusive group where you could travel with local people who would then become friends. So we book holidays for people, but then we might also go to a local wine bar together and get to know them better. It’s the antithesis of internet booking and it seems to have worked for us so far. One of us occasionally travels with the group to ensure everyone has a good time — and to make sure we all get some pleasure from working in the industry. Today, our assistant manager Josie flies out to Finland to go dogsledding with a group of people who seem okay with the idea of minus thirty degrees.

Just before Christmas we advertised trips for the first half of the year and that’s what people seem to have responded to. Charlie and I sit down at our desks and begin to look through the emails, ready to convert these enquiries into sales. First and foremost we have to process all the final payments and passport details for our February trip to Athens to celebrate Aphrodite, the goddess of love (and prostitutes, apparently). This trip was one of the first ideas I had when dreaming up the Mercury calendar all those months ago and now the reality is but a few weeks away. I get a little shiver down my spine as I complete the passenger manifests, knowing that I made it happen — with the help of Charlie, of course.

‘You’re smiling to yourself,’ he says to me.

‘I’m just remembering when we first put together that scrapbook.’

If I really think about it, I’d have to admit that it was probably the most ridiculous business plan ever developed — a scrapbook with The Mercury Travel Club blazoned across the front and a picture of a destination for each month of the year. Alongside the actual holiday, there’d be a local business idea to involve the community. So, just before the Athens trip, everyone booked will be getting together at the local Greek restaurant to get to know each other. We’ve also had trips to ghostly castles — reading Wilkie Collins for the book club — and a Monaco trip for the classic car enthusiasts.

‘How much has changed since then,’ Charlie observes.

I know what he’s thinking; his partner Peter works in finance and before they got together, Peter offered to look through our plan/scrapbook. He gave us the thumbs-up, we put our heart and souls into making it a reality, won a People’s Champion Award for our efforts and, of course, Charlie and Peter became inseparable.

‘Well, not everything has changed,’ I say as Patty comes barging through the door with her arms full of packets of biscuits.

‘Are we expecting a coach trip on a rest stop?’ asks Charlie as she offloads them all onto my desk.

‘They were buy one, get one free,’ Patty explains. ‘These supermarkets know what they’re doing, don’t they? It’s January, so everyone’s on a diet but after a full day of self-denial they’re now completely fed up with it, so what happens? They saunter into a shop, pretending they’re there for a lettuce or something, and bingo — they see this bounty on the ends of the aisles. I mean, who can resist? They’ve even got these ones that are advertised as low fat — if you restrict yourself to two, but who does that? Anyway, we now have supplies, so who’d like a cuppa?’

We put our orders in, mainly to avoid a further rant about biscuit offers, and within ten minutes she’s back with a tray of hot drinks and a plate of the aforementioned confections. Ignoring the fact that Charlie and I are heads down, deep in work, Patty pulls up a chair at Josie’s empty desk and takes out her phone.

Mornings are when we get all of the admin done as customers tend to drift in over lunchtime and into the afternoon. As much as I enjoy talking to people about their dream holidays, I find these few hours really satisfying knowing that all of the loose ends are tied up and that the holiday will be as stress-free as we can possibly make it. I take care over the important details — how much luggage people can take, what visas are needed or jabs are recommended, which trips are better booked while they’re still in the UK and which phrases they should learn in the local language. I like to send customers a little link to videos teaching them how to pronounce simple things like please and thank you. Some of our customers even get together to do language courses, which I think is really lovely. So yes, this is my quiet time — or it would be on any other day.

Patty has her earbuds in but she’s nodding away to a tune and mouthing the lyrics. I’m dying to know what it is but have to focus, so I shift my screen just a smidgeon so I can’t see her. I manage a few moments of concentration but then the track obviously changes and her nodding turns into dancing; within moments she’s doing the hand movements that are only associated with one song — Madonna’s ‘Vogue’. From the corner of my eye I can tell that Charlie has spotted her too and he’s trying to keep a straight face. I know it won’t work as he’s an absolute superfan when it comes to her royal Madgeness, and before I can say anything he’s up and over at Patty’s desk. She whips her earbuds out and turns up the volume, filling the shop with the chorus while Charlie attempts unsuccessfully to synchronise the dance moves with her.

‘You’ve got it wrong,’ Charlie shouts above the song. ‘It’s hand out, out, cross, cross, side, side, round the head and round the body.’

He does each move as he calls it out over and over again. A customer comes in and stands transfixed before eventually succumbing to the inevitable and joining in. Then Patty begins to get it right and I think, Well, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. I get up and fall into rhythm, enjoying the little livener. It disintegrates into a freestyle dance-off when the chorus finishes and by the end of the song, we’re all exhausted.

‘Well, I wasn’t expecting that,’ says the customer, collapsing on a chair. I bring both of us over a cup of water. ‘It has to count towards today’s step count though, doesn’t it?’

‘It beats Zumba any day,’ I reply. ‘Someone should invent Madonna-robics.’

For a millisecond Patty looks up, the idea apparently flashing through her head, but just as quickly she scrunches up her nose and shakes it away. There’s no way she’d actually commit to an idea that involves ongoing exercise.

My customer has come in to enquire about our September trip to Seville, where we’re going to try Flamenco.

‘You obviously enjoy dancing,’ I say. She was certainly better than the rest of us at it.

‘I really do,’ she says. ‘But since my divorce, it’s so difficult to find others who do. I’m hoping to meet people on the trip.’

I smile and tell her I’m sure she will. I don’t matchmake on our trips but they are full of like-minded people and I get a frisson of excitement when I see two of them getting together. I really hope it happens for this lady. I remind her that everyone going on the trip is meeting up beforehand at a tapas bar and wave her goodbye.

‘So is “Vogue” on the new setlist?’ asks Charlie. ‘I would love to see the Granny-Okies doing that but what would be the angle?’

‘Well, technically Madonna is older than all of us,’ Patty says. ‘So there has to be an angle there — maybe one of us could say that we’re too young to do Madonna songs.’

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