Page 75 of Old Girls Go Greek
Anita sighed. ‘Me too.’
* * *
Actually, it was nice to be home with all my familiar things around me and not having to go out every time I wanted some Greek coffee or a meal. I dragged my case onto my bed. It seemed heavier than I remembered and it still had the labels on the handles from the airline. I ripped them off rather sadly. If I was going to do more of this sort of thing, the first thing I would do was buy a new case, brightly coloured – pink or yellow – so I could spot it more easily on the baggage carousel and not have to peer hopefully at every identical black case that passed me.
I started to unpack, put the first load of laundry on and then sorted out all the little souvenirs and oddments I had picked up along the way.
Some sugar sachets, a couple of plastic cocktail sticks, a carrier bag with Greek writing on it which came from the shop where I had bought my new rose-patterned sundress, receipts from cafés and shops which I had carefully kept and now made no sense to me. A tiny wrapped bar of soap from the bathroom which I hadn’t used. A fabric pouch with my charging cables and adaptors. There was even a little pile of grit in the bottom of the empty case, and there were my zebra-print shoes which would never be the same again. Silly little things which somehow held such memories.
Ivan followed me upstairs and sat on the bed, glowering at my suitcase, as though he was daring me to go away again.
‘Don’t worry, I’m back,’ I said, ‘and it doesn’t look as though you have starved.’
The first load of dark laundry was done and I put in all the lighter things. And then I went out into the garden to hang everything on the line and see how things had fared in my absence. The grass needed mowing, but I was delighted to see it was far too wet to do it so that would have to wait until another day. I could hear Bonzo barking over the hedge. He sounded thrilled to be back from his stay in the kennels.
I went to have some elevenses: instant coffee and chocolate digestives. I would get some real coffee the next time I went out, and a small cafetiere. And some interesting biscuits.
The washing machine beeped to show it had finished and I went to unload it.
Ah.
Slight problem.
It seemed my new sundress, while reasonably priced, uncrushable and pretty, had bled colour all over everything, and now all my white towels, t-shirts and knickers were the same bright, mottled pink.
I held up one thing after another, cursing and wondering what to do.
Oh for goodness’ sake. Realising it was far too late, I examined the care label. It said dry clean only. Like that was going to happen. Why would anyone spend ten quid drycleaning a dress which had cost about the same price?
The dress was still in one piece and uncrushable but also ruined. Unless I didn’t mind wearing a garment that looked as though it had come out of a skip. I’d only worn it twice, so perhaps it hadn’t been such a good purchase after all.
I went to look in the fridge. Nothing in there seemed at all exciting or tasty. I needed to go shopping and start buying some more interesting food.
I put my empty coffee mug in the dishwasher and gave a heavy sigh. Yes, it was nice to be back home again, but in a way it felt as though the colour had faded from my life, just as it had from my dress.
22
Following my trip to the supermarket, I made myself a rather exotic sandwich for lunch – cold chicken, hummus and roasted peppers – and then rang my daughter.
Nicky answered almost at once.
‘So you’re home safe,’ she said. ‘No problems or lost luggage?’
‘A bit late but okay,’ I said. ‘So when are you coming over to see me? I’ve brought you a present.’
‘Excellent! It’s my day off tomorrow, so I’ll pop over to see you for lunch, and then I can see my favourite boy too.’
‘Do you mean Ivan? My word, you do surprise me,’ I said.
Coincidentally, the cat in question was coming in, a small, suspicious-looking feather stuck on the top of one ear. He stopped halfway through the cat flap and glared at me.
‘It looks like your favourite boy has been up to no good in the garden.’
‘I’ve got some leftover minced beef for him,’ Nicky said, ‘he’ll like that. And there are some little scraps of smoked salmon he can have too. I saved them from our starters at the pub last night. Do you think he would like them?’
‘I think he would force it down out of politeness,’ I said. ‘He’s back on the ordinary stuff now I’m home. It’s no wonder he is sending me dirty looks if that’s what you’ve been feeding him.’
Nicky laughed. ‘Right, I’ll see you tomorrow.’
