Page 7 of Old Girls Go Greek
Looking across, I saw Anita on her balcony.
She called across at me. ‘Isn’t this great? Quick, get unpacked and we can go and find Effie. She’s quite a card, you’ll love her. Then we can get a drink and a late lunch somewhere. I’ll be round in ten minutes.’
‘What about the guided walk?’ I called back.
Anita pulled a face. ‘Not likely. I’m not waiting. Are you?’
‘Cooeee,’ someone shouted from the street below us, and we leaned over the balcony railings to see Beryl and another grey-haired lady sitting on the bench outside the front door.
‘Hurry up,’ Beryl called up to us. ‘We’re ready to go exploring. See you in a bit.’
I absolutely loved the thought that I was about to go out exploring the little town, and with some new friends too. It sounded far better than being taken on a guided walk, as though we were a school party who couldn’t be trusted not to get lost. I couldn’t wait.
I heaved my case on to the bed and unpacked it, wondering why I had brought two thick sweaters and even a scarf with me. Had I brought enough t-shirts? And should I have brought more than one sundress?
I hung everything up in the little white wardrobe, which threatened to topple forwards unless I spaced everything evenly along the rail, and then put all my toiletries into the bathroom.
Instead of the usual supermarket own brand, I had made some impulsive holiday purchases of expensive shampoo and conditioner, and I put them on the shelf inside the shower with considerable satisfaction. I was filled with the wonderful sense of being at the start of an adventure. I was somewhere different, sunny and undeniably picturesque. Outside there was a delightful view of white houses, the occasional blue cupola and the tantalising backdrop of the sea shimmering in the sunshine. And Anita, Beryl and Effie were waiting for me to join them. Yes, I could have done this trip alone, but I had the feeling it was going to be a lot of fun with them there too.
‘Come on, there’s no time to waste,’ Anita said as she came in after a perfunctory knock on my door. ‘Oh, do hurry up, I’m dying to get out there and look around, and I’m so hungry, it’s ages since we had anything decent to eat. Beryl and Effie are still waiting for us by the front door.’
‘So we definitely aren’t doing the guided walk?’ I said.
She shook her head and flapped a hand in dismissal.
‘I am not being herded around like a party of school kids. And Beryl and Effie have been here before so they won’t want to be shown where the chemist is or the supermarket. It’s much more enjoyable to explore on our own, don’t you think? And it’s an island; remember, the worst that can happen is we go round in a big circle. I always used to think that whenBergeracwas on television back in the 1980s. There was nearly always a car chase, and what was the point when there was nowhere to go?’
‘Still worth watching for John Nettles though,’ I said as we went downstairs. ‘He was so handsome. I had such a crush on him. And inMidsomer Murders too.’
‘There can’t be anyone living in Midsomer these days, what with the abnormally high death rate. You would think the Met would want to investigate,’ Anita said, and I laughed and agreed.
Outside, the afternoon was warm and pleasant, and incredibly quiet. Just the occasional sound of a voice, or music playing from someone’s open window. I was introduced to Effie, who was dazzling in a swirling green maxi dress and a yellow sunhat patterned with cartoon ducks. She looked a slightly younger and fluffier version of Beryl.
‘Effie,’ she said with a sweet smile, ‘short for Euphemia before you ask. Thanks, Dad. Now let’s get going before Jillian spots us escaping and drags us back for roll call.’
There didn’t seem to be much traffic at all, just once or twice a delivery van passed the four of us as we made our way down the road towards the sea.
At last, we stood, transfixed by the prospect of the shining Mediterranean in front of us.
‘Isn’t it marvellous?’ Anita said. ‘I remember when I went to Rhodes with a group of friends. We couldn’t believe how blue and clean it was. And they had a great time in Mallorca. I wish I could have gone. There was a bit about the Mediterranean in my friend’s guidebook. She went down quite a rabbit hole with that one. Apparently there is lots of light and carbon dioxide in the Med, but not much ammonia or nitrates and not much mixing of the deep water either, which means the sea doesn’t get full of algae.’
‘You’re a mine of information,’ Beryl said, sitting down on a stone bench and taking a stone out of her shoe.
‘Should you have worn those?’ Effie said. ‘They don’t look very comfortable.’
‘Il faut souffrir pour être belle, as Mother used to say. One must suffer to be beautiful,’ Beryl replied.
Effie sniffed. ‘It’s going to take a lot more than a pair of Clark’s sandals, dear. Even if they are red.’
‘Do you two go on holiday together a lot?’ I asked.
Effie nodded. ‘We’ve shared lots of trips. We’re both on our own now and both of us are outraged by the single supplements one has to pay. It’s far cheaper to go together and for me to invest in some decent earplugs.’
Beryl snorted. ‘I’m the one needing earplugs.’
‘I think not. Sharing with you is how I imagine it would be to bunk up with a capybara. Anyway, it’s more fun. Not to have to think about what the menfolk are doing or wanting these days. Not having to watch sport on the television.’
‘We’re Old Ducks,’ Anita added, pulling on a bright yellow canvas hat identical to the ones Beryl and Effie were wearing. ‘Our friend Juliette started it. We are all over sixty but definitely not past it.’
