Chapter 11
Nepal
Thump thump thump.
‘Wake up, Maggie, I think I’ve got something to say to you,’ sang a strangely youthful Rod Stewart.
‘What, what?’ I mumbled, waking with a start.
I sat bolt upright, only to regret it. My head spun and my stomach pitched wildly as if I was on a sinking ship. I lay down, gripping the edge of my narrow bed, nausea rising up my throat as I closed my eyes. That was weird, dreaming about Rod Stewart.
‘Maggie!’ There was another thump on the door. I clutched my head to stop the banging. ‘Let me hear you say whoah, whoah, yeah, yeah! Come on, Maggaroo, you were singing it last night.’
Was I? I groaned as fragments of my antics came back to me. Who called me Maggaroo ? What the hell was happening? ‘What do you want?’
‘I’m opening the door now, okay?’
I checked my boobs were still inside my nightie. They had a habit of trying to escape during the night. All good. I found a gap in the mosquito net and poked my face out. ‘You may enter.’
‘Jeez. You look rough.’ Colin grinned and did a pointy finger dance while swinging his hips. The move rang a very alarming bell. ‘Worth it though, eh?’
‘I’m not sure yet. Did I dance on the table last night?’
‘Dancing queen …’ Colin sang in falsetto and I clamped my hands over my ears.
‘Oh God.’
I had a vague recollection of playing a drinking game too.
What had possessed me? I’d let my hair down for the first time in ages.
The kids had been so friendly and welcoming and fun.
It had brought back fond memories of Bronte and Harry having their friends around in the summer and dancing and singing under the fairy lights in the garden.
I’d missed their laughter, the fast-paced banter, the in-jokes and the internet memes they would chant before collapsing in fits of laughter.
‘I don’t normally drink. Well, not much anyway. ’
‘If you say so.’ He winked.
I squinted at him through barely open eyes. ‘Why are you in my room?’
‘It’s time to rise and shine. There’s a wake-up rota. It’s my turn today. Did you like my wake-up Maggie May song?’
‘Loved it.’ I slid my hand under my pillow to check the time on my phone, but it wasn’t there, which was worrying.
I sat up again and patted around a bit more.
No sign. Damn it. I was always meticulous about having my phone with me, keeping it charged, in case Bronte ever needed me.
Less important now, obviously. ‘You’re very young to know Rod Stewart songs. ’
‘I looked it up on Spotify after you sang it last night. Here’s the cat. Morning, Bob.’
The cat who’d scratched me yesterday streaked around Colin’s legs and ran underneath my bed.
‘Ah, he’s climbed into your suitcase. Your phone is down there too, by the way.’
‘Thank goodness.’ I sighed with relief as Colin passed the phone through the mosquito net to me. ‘Not about the cat; it’s a vicious thing.’
It would have to stay there for now. I didn’t have the energy for a battle.
Colin turned to go. ‘Breakfast in fifteen mins. Don’t go back to sleep, okay?’
‘Okay.’ I closed my eyes.
‘ Breakfast! ’ Someone thumped on my door. Not Colin this time; a girl.
‘Shit.’ I rolled myself out of bed, staggered to the door and opened it.
‘Morning, Magster, ready for your first day at kindergarten?’
She wore a long skirt, flip-flops and a T-shirt with the One World logo on it.
I rubbed my eyes. ‘Remind me who you are again?’
‘Naomi!’ she giggled.
‘Why do you look as if you haven’t got a hangover?’ I said, running my fingers through my hair and getting stuck in a matted bit at the back. Why was everyone so young and full of energy? I needed someone as old and haggard as me to even things out.
‘Because I haven’t.’ She looked puzzled. ‘It was a quiet one last night, we were all back by eleven.’
‘Right, right.’ My mouth felt like I’d swallowed gravel. ‘I might skip breakfast. Just have coffee.’
She sucked in a breath. ‘Not a good idea. We’re going on a walk this morning to where the elephants bathe. The kids are super-excited. You’re gonna need energy. Also, they don’t have coffee here, only tea.’
‘No coffee? You’re kidding.’ I could have wept.
I swallowed down two headache tablets with the dregs of the water in my bottle and blinked at my phone. It was completely out of charge.
I plugged it in to give it a quick blast in case there were any important messages from Kat or the office, grabbed my toiletries bag and headed to the bathroom to work a miracle.
I’d managed to go to the loo, brush my teeth and scrape my hair into a bun, when there was a soft knock on the bathroom door.
‘Maggie! Are you in there?’
‘I am,’ I shouted back. ‘Hold on.’
I was not used to having company in the morning. Yesterday, Tiff barking at me to hurry up for our flight. Today a succession of youths chivvying me along. I wanted to be left alone to sleep.
I opened the door to see another one of the girls from last night. Somehow, she’d found time to put immaculate French braids in her hair.
‘Hello,’ I said dully. ‘You are …?’
‘Izzy.’ She grinned. ‘You are funny. Your phone has been ringing. Like a lot. Like non-stop. I thought you’d want to know in case it was urgent.’
I thanked her, went back to my room and glanced at the notifications on my phone.
One good morning message from Kat which made me smile, but I’d also got a couple of missed calls from George and three from Anna which wiped the smile off again.
Something must have happened. In trepidation, I shut my door and called Anna immediately.
‘Thank heavens,’ Anna blew out a breath. ‘Sorry to bother you, but can you help me sort out the invoicing for Renways?’
‘Is that all?’ I let out a sigh of relief. ‘I thought something drastic had happened. I left all the details in a spreadsheet in a folder marked Invoicing for Renways .’
‘I know you did,’ she said, groaning, ‘but I’ve deleted the formula by accident and now it’s a mess. I need you, Maggie.’
I glanced at the time. ‘I can try, but I’m late for my first day at kindergarten already, due to being hungover, and we’re going on a walk to see elephants, so I need to get going.’
There was a pause on the line.
‘So many questions about that sentence.’
I rubbed a hand over my face. ‘I can imagine. Can I ring you back later?’
‘Okay,’ Anna said. ‘An hour? Two, preferably not more than three.’
‘Have you asked George?’ I suggested. ‘He’s pretty good with spreadsheets.’
‘Um, no,’ she replied, shiftily.
‘Why?’
‘He’s helping Lee and I didn’t want to disturb him.’
‘George is working for Lee? Why?’ I demanded.
Lee, the office joker who wanted to be liked more than he wanted to manage people effectively. The man who was currently first in line for the directorship.
‘Because … because … oh hell,’ she muttered. ‘Because I’ve had to give the Vap-A-Rise business to Lee because I had too much on my plate.’
‘Anna!’ I gasped. ‘My team worked hard for that business. I worked hard for that business.’
I gritted my teeth, thoroughly annoyed about the whole situation and aware there was very little I could do about it other than complain. I wondered what George thought about that. Not much, probably. Which might explain the missed call I’d had from him.
‘I’ve made a mistake,’ said Anna. ‘I said we could manage without you, and we can’t.’
‘I thought nobody was indispensable,’ I reminded her, pleased nonetheless.
‘I meant nobody except you,’ she said with a sigh. ‘How long are you—’
The end of her sentence was interrupted by a strange yowling sound from under my bed.
I dropped down and peered underneath. Nestled in my open suitcase on top of the blanket I’d bought in Kathmandu was that mangy cat.
And beside it was what looked like two kittens …
Oh my Lord, there was another one coming.
‘Anna, I’m going to have to go, there’s a cat giving birth on my new yak blanket.’
‘What the hell? Yak?’
‘Yes, although yuk might be a better description.’ Why was all this happening to me today? All I wanted was a decent cup of coffee and another two hours in bed. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be snuggling up in that any time soon.’
‘It sounds like you’ve got your hands full,’ Anna said.
‘I’ll call you later. I promise.’
Izzy appeared at the door as I ended the call.
‘The cat’s giving birth?’ she gasped.
I gestured for her to join me. Both of us lay flat so we could see what was happening. The cat was busy cleaning her babies.
‘Ah. She must have felt safe in your room.’ Izzy sighed wistfully. ‘And that’s why she chose your suitcase. You should feel honoured. If I was going to give birth, I think I’d have come to your room too.’
‘Thanks. I think. Although please don’t.’ We got to our feet. I was now far too late for breakfast, but I did need some water at least. ‘Come on, let’s give her and her babies a bit of peace.’
‘Was that your work phoning you while you’re on holiday?’ she asked as we headed across the yard towards the dining room. Outside the gate, parents and their little ones were already waiting for it to open.
I nodded. ‘Some problem they can’t solve without me.’
‘That must be annoying.’ She looked indignant. ‘People should be allowed to take a break without their employer hounding them.’
‘Actually, I quite like it. It makes me feel useful,’ I told her.
Outside in the courtyard, an old-fashioned bell rang and Izzy made for the door. ‘In that case,’ she said over her shoulder, ‘you’re going to love it here. Come on. Kindergarten has started. Prepare to be extremely useful for the next four hours.’
I stuffed my partly-charged phone in my pocket, wedged the door so that Bob and her kittens could get out and tried not to think about caffeine as I joined my new young friends outside to greet the children.
I hadn’t had a clue where Bronte’s itinerary was going to lead me, but I’d certainly never have guessed I’d be a childcare volunteer in Nepal.
Which proved that even at my age, life could be full of surprises.
Bronte’s Gap Year