Page 76 of Old Girls Go Greek
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That afternoon I got to Anita’s house just after three o’clock. I found her sitting in the garden with her laptop on her knee and a cup of tea at her elbow. Bonzo her dog was wrestling with some squeaky toy at her feet and at the end of their garden, Rick was doing something to the lawnmower which involved a toolbox and a cross expression.
‘I’m just sorting out my photos,’ she said, ‘before I show them to Rick and he sees what we got up to. There seemed to be an awful lot of meals and glasses of Metaxa.’
‘Marvellous, wasn’t it?’ I said with a sigh. ‘I’m so glad I went. Do you know I was trying to think of excuses not to come along when you first mentioned it. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.’
Anita beamed. ‘I knew I was right about you. You fitted right in. It’s like I told you; the Old Ducks have a sort of magic. We have fun, we talk about everything, we don’t take offence if someone disagrees and we don’t particularly care what other people think. That’s what I call liberation. And because of that we are very good at supervising new relationships. There is written evidence of that, probably in several scientific journals.’
I laughed. ‘Not for me.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Not yet maybe, I think you might be surprised. A lot of women our age think life is slowly winding down. The Old Ducks don’t think like that, not one bit, and it’s very empowering. And by the way, I have put in a request to Juliette our president for you to join us. Don’t tell me you feel the same about the future now as you did two weeks ago?’
‘No, actually. I don’t.’
She smiled. ‘Right then, tea or coffee?’
‘I don’t mind.’
Anita held up a warning finger.
‘Okay then, I’d like tea,’ I said.
‘Good choice. We must go to the painting group next week. There isn’t a meeting this week because Cassandra is away. She will be wanting to know how we got on and what we achieved,’ Anita said, passing me a mug of tea and a plastic box of biscuits.
‘Not much actually,’ I said, ‘but I expect Dennis will arrive with a huge folder of things he did while he was there. And his certificate.’
‘Teacher’s pet,’ Anita said, unwrapping a KitKat. ‘I didn’t have any comments on my certificate of attendance, did you?’
‘Nothing,’ I said, ‘and I expect Cassandra will look hard at the rest of us. Not angry, just disappointed. I don’t care; I had a great time. And I do have a drawing of Costas’s foot of which I’m quite proud.’
‘I think men probably have better feet than women because they don’t spend years cramming them into fashionable shoes.’
‘I wonder who is in our rooms now?’ I said wistfully. ‘In Hotel Costas. Looking out from the roof terrace, going down to the sea and trying out the cafés and restaurants. Lucky them.’
‘Onwards and upwards. So, where next?’ Anita asked, ‘You said you wanted to plan your next trip.’
‘Now I have unpacked and done all the washing, I’m going to see my sister in America and then I’ll do some research. Perhaps a river cruise. Or Mallorca.’
‘Oooh, I recommend that,’ Anita said. ‘My friends had a fabulous time there. A little place near Pollença. The pictures looked absolutely gorgeous, I’d love to go there. But then the old town of Rhodes was nice too.’
Rick came in through the kitchen door.
‘Boots,’ Anita shouted automatically, and he scuffed them off.
‘Hello, Meg. Had fun? We had a marvellous time in Scotland. Pity about the rain. And the blackflies. And my ankle. And Harry having food poisoning. And Vince breaking his glasses. We had to mend them with a blister plaster. And the car having a puncture miles from anywhere. But the locals were really helpful. We’ll go back, I’m sure. I like going back to places. I know where everything is and how it works. Unlike that blasted lawnmower, which still isn’t working. I’ll have to get someone round to fix it. Bashing it with a mole wrench doesn’t seem to be working this time.’
Blister plasters. A mole wrench. Ridiculous things which reminded me of Will.
The image we had conjured up between us, of Mr Mole in his velvet waistcoat, living underground.
That was the first time we had chatted and smiled at each other. When we had connected. For a moment I felt rather sad to think I wouldn’t see him again. He lived near Bicester. I could hardly just drive around there aimlessly wondering if I would see him, could I?
* * *
Nicky came round the following morning to see me and hear all about the trip. I presented her with a rather lovely, blue-patterned tea towel and a giant bar of Greek chocolate, and she was delighted. And even more pleased when Ivan came and wound himself around her ankles while we sat out in the garden having lunch. She reached down to scratch his ears, and Ivan threw himself on the ground in ecstasy.
‘That cat is a traitor,’ I said, ‘he never does that for me. All he has done since I got home is scowl at me and bring me a dead mouse.’
