Page 57 of Old Girls Go Greek
I would turn away from my fantasy travelling companion and read my book, which I would have bought in the airport. It would be an improving, literary novel about important things with a dark, sensible cover, not the sort of jolly escapism I usually read where women had fun and sat on beaches and got the better of their disloyal husbands.
‘Hello,’ he said.
I turned to see Will standing next to me, looking very relaxed and a bit dishevelled in cargo shorts (with a great many pockets down the legs) and a blue polo shirt that matched his eyes.
‘Oh, hello,’ I said, feeling very flustered. Good job he didn’t know that he had only recently been the object of one of my daydreams.
‘May I join you?’ he asked politely, one hand on the back of the chair opposite me.
‘Of course,’ I said with a little laugh to show that this didn’t bother me at all.
‘I’ve just been exploring,’ he said. ‘I walked down to the far end of the beach. I think I must have found the place where you went on that ringo. There was a bit of a queue.’
‘Oh, it was great fun,’ I said, remembering how it felt to be smacked in the face by a lot of seawater, almost have my arms wrenched from their sockets and pay for the privilege. ‘You should try it.’
The waiter came up at that point, balancing a round tray on his fingertips. Will ordered a lemonade like mine after asking me if I needed anything else.
‘It’s lovely here, isn’t it,’ I said. ‘I’ve enjoyed it far more than I thought I would, even if I haven’t really joined in with the group activities.’
‘Nor have I, I’m afraid,’ he said, and grinned. ‘I’ve never been much of a conformer. I was the same at school; not one for team games.’
‘Nor me,’ I said. ‘And it was no good picking me for a side. I had the co-ordination skills of a panda. Have you seen the clips on Facebook? They are always falling off things and tumbling out of trees, aren’t they?’
He laughed. ‘Cute cubs though.’
‘Absolutely, although I think I would prefer a quokka. They have such smiley faces. I’d love to see one of those.’
‘In which case you need to go to Rottnest Island near Perth. It’s well worth a visit.’
Australia. Yes, that would be a good place to see, and they drove on the proper side of the road too. I could almost see myself in a broad-brimmed hat, and one of those rather unattractive t-shirts which claim to ‘wick moisture away’. Which is rather an unpleasant thought as the moisture surely has to go somewhere?
So the only drawback would be the length of the journey to get there. Not to mention the cost because there was no way I was going to spend hours and hours on a plane in an economy seat with not enough room and my feet shuffling about in all the debris a long-haul plane flight produces. Horrible blankets and bits of plastic and possibly someone else’s feet poking through on my armrest.
How marvellous it would be to go in the posh seats just for once. To be welcomed into one of the nice lounges at the airport instead of someone frowning at my boarding pass and waving me away, as had happened once when Malcolm and I were travelling to Austria for one of his tedious financial conferences and he had wrongly assumed he had been upgraded.
‘Maybe I will one day,’ I said. ‘Go to Australia, I mean.’
‘So where next after this?’ Will said, sipping his lemonade.
‘Home,’ I said, pulling a face. ‘Do the washing, mow the lawn, try and get my cat to talk to me again.’
He laughed. ‘Same thing.’
This little interaction was making me bold. ‘Where do you live now?’
‘In the Cotswolds. A little village not far from Bicester.’
‘Ah, the big outlet shopping experience.’
‘Never been, although I did get a really great kitchen installed by a firm there. I can recommend them if you ever want one.’
‘I’ve just had a bathroom refitted,’ I said. ‘I need to get over one mess and muddle before I start on another.’
I wondered then about him having a kitchen fitted, and how he had dealt with it. Had he made countless cups of tea and bought special biscuits for the builders as I had? Did he pore over his spreadsheets and costings and question every decision and tap and door latch? Or had he just let them get on with it?
‘I’m looking forward to tomorrow evening,’ he said. ‘Our meal out at the vineyard.’
‘Me too,’ I said, ‘and this time it’s on me.’
