The Old Ducks' Club, page 26
‘He’s in a rush,’ Theo said as we watched him go.
‘Perhaps next time he will get up ten minutes earlier?’ I said.
‘Perhaps he got stuck in traffic. Or perhaps he couldn’t bear to say goodbye to his lady friend. Like me.’
He looked at me as though this time he was memorising my face.
This was getting really difficult.
I hitched my laptop bag up onto my shoulder and checked yet again that I had my passport in the right place. Ready to show it to the many people who would want to see it.
‘I must go,’ I said.
‘I know.’ He paused and then hugged me very close. ‘Please come back soon.’
He held my hand until the last possible moment and then he was gone, back to his lovely house, back to the sunshine and his boat. The Sea Maiden. Partheniki.
I went through to the departures lounge and found a seat out of the way, where no one could see me or ask questions. And I sat looking at the wall, while behind me the announcements continued, the people hurried past.
I took out my phone and flicked through to the picture I had taken of Theo. Was it only yesterday? The sunshine, the blue sea, the girl leaping off the boat behind him, his smile, the look in his eyes. I cried.
I didn’t think anything in my life had ever felt that way. Nothing had prepared me for that moment. For that sorrow.
I wasn’t even sure what it was. Why I was crying as though my heart was breaking. It wasn’t mourning or sentiment or frustration; the moment just felt utterly and absolutely wrong. What a rotten and unexpected end to my adventure.
‘Are you alright, madame?’ said a soft voice behind me.
I looked up to see a young woman dressed in a navy blue suit with a perky cap on her blonde curls. So, cabin crew then.
I sniffed and mopped myself up a bit. I felt a bit foolish now, crying like a love-sick teenager at my age. But what had Hera said? A sixty-year-old heart can break as easily as a sixteen-year-old one. I looked at the picture again and then shut my phone down.
‘Thank you,’ I said, ‘I’m fine.’
33
Oxford was just as unsatisfactory as I had remembered. I knew it was a wonderful city filled with history, and millions of people travelled from all over the world to see it, but it wasn’t what I wanted, not any more.
I went home from Rhodes determined that I was going to put my plans into action. Instead of regretting the past and the choices I had not made, I was going to work towards the future. The minute my plane landed and I turned my phone back on there was a message from Theo; he missed me and hoped I would come back soon.
A couple of days later we had a WhatsApp call. It was both lovely and unsatisfactory. He was sitting in the garden, sunlight filtering through the pergola onto his face. I could imagine so clearly the house, the garden, the alleyways and the squares that we had explored together.
‘I miss you,’ I said.
He gave a rather sad smile. ‘I miss you too Sophia. I wish you would come back, it’s not the same without you. I have no one to throw paint over.’
‘I hope you won’t ever throw paint over anyone but me,’ I said, trying to smile.
‘I’ve been thinking. Come for Christmas,’ he said, ‘come here for Christmas.’
I thought about it. There was nothing here that would make me half as happy.
‘I was going to ask you to come here,’ I said, ‘but my house might be sold by then, we would have nowhere to stay.’
‘Then come here,’ Theo said, ‘Christmas here is wonderful. I know you were thinking of coming back in the spring, but I don’t think I can possibly wait that long to hold you in my arms again. I’ve been looking at your picture on my phone and it’s not nearly enough. What do you say?’
I smiled. ‘I’ve been doing that too. Aren’t we a silly pair? Will you come and pick me up from the airport?’
‘Of course I will, I will be waiting there,’ he said.
I felt my heart lift and we grinned at each other over the miles.
I told Nigel, Leo and Yuki that I was going to sell my house and regretfully I would have to give them notice. They went off to talk about it for two weeks, when they must have actually communicated properly with each other for the first time. I even heard laughter from their rooms and there were suddenly countless beer bottles in the recycling too which, for a while, made me slightly alarmed that the council would think I’d opened a bar without planning permission.
To everyone’s astonishment, the upshot of that was that Nigel was revealed as a man of means. He had devoted so many years to his fruit flies research that he hadn’t actually thought to spend some of his considerable trust fund. So, he offered to buy my house.
Nigel’s father was a conveyancing solicitor who would handle the sale; Nigel went happily back to his fruit flies and I looked for places where I could store my furniture until I found somewhere to live. I was going to be out of there by the end of the year.
In the meantime I did a fairly good job of decluttering the place. I got rid of the things I didn’t want and no longer needed, and a lot of my dull clothes. I didn’t miss any of it, in fact, driving back from the council tip or the charity shop with a newly emptied car gave me a feeling of something positive achieved.
The weather was grim, dark mornings, dark evenings and cold rain that slashed at my face when I went out. The memory of Rhodes with its sunshine, blue skies and the thought of returning to see Theo at Christmas was all that bolstered me up.
I got back in touch with some of my old friends and shared several evenings out with them where they happily told me how much they had detested Lucian and his influence over me that had turned me into such a recluse.
I flew to Edinburgh to visit my cousins, who were really pleased to see me and the soul of hospitality. I’d forgotten how much I’d liked them. They even encouraged me to move nearer to them, but I wasn’t tempted. Okay, it was November, but I didn’t think I had ever been so cold in my life. I didn’t think I was tough enough to live there, however gorgeous the city was. Still, it was lovely to reconnect with them and feel that I wasn’t quite so isolated in the world.
On my way back from Scotland I went to stay with Juliette too and met Matthew over a very enjoyable lunch in his local pub. They were obviously very firmly an item.
Matthew seemed a regimented and sensible man; well he would be after a career in the army shouting at lesser ranks. He was handsome, tall, sinewy and absolutely devoted to Juliette. You could tell that every time he looked at her with a funny little smile that made his moustache bristle. I think they are what’s known as an odd couple. He was so disciplined and no-nonsense, and she was still crackers. He was tweed and Tattersall shirts, she was sequins and stilettos; what the rest of the churchgoers thought of her heaven only knew. But it seemed to work, which was all that mattered.
‘I’m a gnat’s whisker away from moving into his house,’ Juliette said confidentially over several glasses of wine that evening.
‘How marvellous. I hope you do. Does he have room for you and all your clothes?’
‘It’s an old rectory, so yes he does,’ Juliette said. ‘Are you missing lovely Theo? It’s okay, you can admit it, I won’t laugh.’
‘I am,’ I said. ‘I’m going out to see him at Christmas.’
‘How marvellous! How romantic! I’m so pleased for you. I wonder what they do there. I mean, there can’t be any possibility of a white Christmas. Do they have Santa?’
‘I’ll let you know,’ I said.
She filled me in with the news of Kim who had recently signed up for internet dating sites. And moved her kids into their own flat.
‘She’s not getting anywhere with the dating and swiping yet but who knows, she might at least have some fun. The other day she went out with someone who had a picture of a young Cliff Richard as his profile picture, which obviously should have rung alarm bells. She said he looked more like Keith Richards.’
Then, at last, we were into December. Contracts on my house in Oxford were exchanged and Nigel’s father expected us to complete on the sale at the beginning of the new year. So for a while nothing much changed. Nigel stayed in his room upstairs while Yuki and Leo carried on doing whatever it was they did.
The day before I left for Rhodes, I met a glorious-looking girl in the hall; she was coming down the stairs in some pyjamas decorated with cats. She could have been in a perfume advertisement too, with her blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes.
‘Oh hello,’ she said giving me a wide smile, ‘you must be Sophia. I’m Hottie—’
Yes I bet you are, I thought.
‘—I’m just getting the milk. Nigel’s desperate. He’s such a beast before he gets his first coffee.’
She went to pick up the milk bottles from the front step.
‘Nice to meet you,’ she said, her accent cut-glass Belgravia. ‘Have a good trip to Spain.’
‘Rhodes,’ I said.
‘That too. I’d better go, Nigel is in that funny, growly mood. You know, when he behaves like a very naughty boy.’
Nigel? Was this the same Nigel? Well I never. The times they were indeed a-changing.
I flew out to Rhodes, leaving Oxford behind in the fog. I had to fly to Athens and then get a connecting flight to Rhodes because in the winter I couldn’t find a direct one. Still, I didn’t mind, this one was exciting for so many reasons. Sitting looking out of the window at the terminal at Heathrow I thought back to all the things that had brought me to that place.
When I was younger, sixty was seen as old. But it wasn’t, people my age did all sorts of things. Wing walking, abseiling off cliffs, marathons, and people said well good for her. No one said isn’t she good for her age any more. I reckoned you had to be over eighty for anyone to take any notice when you did things like that. Actually, I wouldn’t do any of those things at any age and if I did people might say what the hell is Sophia doing?
Perhaps my perspective had changed over the last few months; maybe when I was seventy I’d think differently but you still wouldn’t find me abseiling off anything, however worthy the charity was.
The cabin crew were going along the aisles of the plane again, shutting overhead lockers and making sure we were all strapped in before take-off.
I knew you weren’t allowed to call them stewardesses any more in case they got offended, although when I was little I would have loved to have been an air stewardess. It sounded such a glamorous life. Not now obviously, because I didn’t think my knee would appreciate the miles they had to walk during a flight, but every time I saw airline crew strutting across an airport concourse, I did feel a twinge of regret that I never tried.
Still, I read something not long ago about how badly behaved and rude some people were to the crew on planes. Why would they behave like that? After all, did you want them to ignore your buzzer or did you want them to upgrade you simply because you said good morning and smiled?
I’d just been given a really nice seat with a lot of leg room exactly because of that. I complimented one of them on her beautiful hair, which was a complicated arrangement of plaits wound around her head like a sculpture. How she did it, heaven only knows.
‘Would you like to take this seat, I think you will be more comfortable here,’ she’d said, sweet as you like. She’d even called me madame. It could have been because I was using the folding walking stick I didn’t actually need. Juliette put me on to that one; she said it was a good prop for playing little old lady on many different occasions and it worked.
Anyway, there I was unexpectedly in an exit row seat with a gin and tonic and some rather nice pretzels.
Out of the window I had a lovely clear view of the Channel, the land was far behind us. The plane had taken off on time and flown over London and the motorways filled with people going to work and school – something I loved seeing because I wasn’t doing either of those things. I drank some champagne over France and the plane headed out towards the Mediterranean and my next adventure. Down below, a long way down, I could imagine French roads, villages and French traffic. Everything was different up there at thirty thousand feet or whatever it was.
The world was so huge and so beautiful, there was so much to see, so many people, new places. Okay, there were bad things out there too, I didn’t think everything was great, but if everyone focussed on the bad stuff all the time no one would ever go anywhere or do anything. And that wasn’t going to be me. Not any more. I was too busy being excited.
Attractive girl with the complicated hairdo walked past me and we smiled at each other; she was going to someone behind me who was complaining about something. What, for heaven’s sake? The plane wasn’t going fast enough? The champagne wasn’t quite chilled enough? The pretzels weren’t exciting enough?
I felt like turning around and saying just get a grip, you’re in millions of dollars’ worth of airplane with unprecedented fuel efficiency. I didn’t know that before, but I’d been reading about it in the in-flight magazine in the pocket in front of me. Of course, I didn’t actually say anything. After all, people were entitled to disagree with me, I was allowed to have my own opinions. That was something else I no longer worried about.
It was late at night when my plane landed in Rhodes because the stopover in Athens took so long. I supposed I could have flown at a different time and stayed overnight somewhere, but I was eager to just get there, so I didn’t really mind. It was, of course, dark, the lights on Rhodes twinkling below me as the plane came in to land. When I got to the arrivals gate, Theo was there, muffled up in a padded coat, a scarf around his neck. His face lit up when he saw me. I flew into his arms and we stood hugging each other, both of us lost for words for a moment.
‘I can’t believe you are here at last!’ he said.
‘Nor can I!’ I could hardly speak I was so excited.
He held me at arm’s length for a moment, looking at me.
‘You are very welcome,’ he said, ‘so very welcome.’
He drove us away from the airport and out towards the old town.
It was so different from the last time I had been here when the taxi driver had been talking non-stop, complaining. This time, although I was tired from all the travelling, I was more than content.
We caught up with each other’s news; he had been busy doing some more decorating, had taken Partheniki out a couple of times for short trips but now she had been taken out of the water for the winter for some maintenance. I told him about my house sale progress, what I had been doing to clear away my things. I was taking a leap of faith, away from the past and definitely towards a new future.
‘So soon you will be homeless,’ he said, ‘what will you do?’
‘I’m not really sure,’ I said. ‘I have enough money to buy somewhere, house prices in Oxford are very high at the moment. I haven’t decided.’
‘That’s a nice problem to have.’ He reached over and took my hand. ‘I’m so happy to see you again. It’s been too long since you were here. I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you,’ I said.
He turned briefly to smile at me, his face illuminated by the glow from the dashboard.
‘I’m glad you’ve missed me,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way.’
The streets of Old Rhodes were bright with Christmas lights and decorations, it was glorious. There were illuminated images of the Virgin on the walls of the old town, and brightly lit shapes of ships and boats. There was a merry-go-round and a funfair on the harbour side. I gasped and craned my neck to see them all, it was wonderful.
‘Sadly, you have missed the kalanda singers. Children singing Christmas songs. They always do that in the town at this time of year, perhaps they will be out tomorrow for you to hear,’ he said. ‘The illuminated boats – the karavaki – are very important to all Greeks at Christmas.’
‘Oh, you have Santa Claus!’ I said, seeing an illuminated figure on the harbourside.
‘Of course, he is Áyios Vassileios here.’
It was wonderful to walk back down that little alleyway to reach his house and go inside into the warmth of the living room.
‘It’s so good to be back,’ I said.
He dumped my case down and put his arms around me.
‘Are you hungry?’
I rested my cheek against his chest. ‘No, not at all, just tired.’
He kissed the top of my head and then went to pour us both a small glass of Metaxa and we clinked glasses together.
‘Welcome,’ he said.
‘Yia mas,’ I said. ‘See, I haven’t forgotten.’
‘I haven’t forgotten how lovely you are,’ he said, ‘let’s go to bed.’
I knocked back my Metaxa in one and choked a little bit. Classy, that was me.
‘Yes. Let’s,’ I said.
The following day was Christmas Eve and I woke up late; I supposed it was all the travelling that had tired me out. For a moment I wondered where I was. I looked around at the white walls, the pale morning light coming through the windows, and then I remembered.
I gave a deep sigh of contentment. Last night had been every bit as wonderful as I had remembered and hoped it would be. And we had the days ahead together, time to learn more about each other, and Christmas to share. It was going to be very different from others I had known recently. I was very happy. But, I noticed, I was on my own. Where had Theo gone?
I pulled on my dressing gown and went downstairs. Theo was sitting at the dining table and he was on the phone. He looked up as I came in and he waved. I’ll be a moment, he mouthed at me.
