Chapter 27
Lesson 26: If you don’t open your eyes, you may miss what’s right in front of you.
Bridget Jones Tally:
teas—2
cakes—2
friends—2
We sat for a good while before we had to leave to meet the others, and we talked. We talked about everything. I hadn’t planned
to, but I told him about my failed engagement, my lost job, and how Hunter had already moved on, and it felt like knots being
unwound. He didn’t offer advice or commentary on my choices. Sometimes he was angry for me, or supportive, but mostly he just
listened.
“Aye. I know what it’s like to have the rug swept out from under you.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah. I was midway through my dissertation when my mom got ill.”
“Oh, Robbie.”
“Breast cancer. Late detection.”
My heart sank. “No.”
“Against her wishes, I dropped everything to move back to Glasgow to be with her. She needed surgery. We didn’t have time to waste. And then after the surgery, there was the chemo... and the radiation.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “It broke her. It broke both of us.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” We sat in silence for a beat as the words filled the air around us. “I can’t even imagine.”
“So I can commiserate with you. Because I lost my PhD, my job offer, my girlfriend, and my flat all in about the space of
three months while I cared for my ma.”
“Your girlfriend too?”
“Yeah. I’d had a serious girlfriend then, three years. She tried to be supportive, but she couldn’t just take a back seat
to my mom’s illness for who knows how long. I don’t blame her, really. I just disappeared. I didn’t handle things the right
way.”
I took a deep breath. It seemed horrible that someone would leave you for caring for your dying mother.
“What about your dad?”
“I’ve never even met him. They were divorced by my first birthday.” Robbie smirked. “He obviously knew there was trouble on
the way.”
We laughed a little. It felt good for the mood to lighten for a moment.
“After chemo, we started taking trips. She said that if she had to go, she wanted to see as much of Scotland as she could
before her time was up.” The look in Robbie’s eyes made mine sting.
“She had always wanted to move to Edinburgh, so we found a ground-floor flat in a quiet area with a garden entrance, and I moved her in. The first trip we took was nearby, to North Berwick, where Lorna and Madge stay. We saw Tantallon Castle and Bass Rock and the puffins, got lunch by the sea. She really brightened up that day, even if she was exhausted. The next trip was to the Borders. I brushed up on my local history to dazzle her, and found that I was enjoying it as much as she was.”
I gave him a sad smile. He was so brave. “It sounds lovely.”
“It was. It was a really special time. When you’re about to lose someone, it really makes you appreciate the joy of every
moment shared together. I savored them. Every tiny detail. I was grateful.”
We poured a bit more tea. He reached over and took a forkful of my homemade tea cake, pushing over his slice of strawberry
sponge for me to try.
“You’re much stronger than I am.”
“Nah. Don’t say that. You’re just in the middle of it, that’s all. I was just doing the only thing I could do. I needed somewhere to focus all my energy. To do everything I could to make her happy and comfortable. Take as much control
of the situation as possible.”
“It takes a rare sort of person to take tragedy and heartbreak and be inspired to turn it into something beautiful.”
He looked at me for a moment, and our eyes held. Some unspoken emotional thing passed between us, and I felt his heart squeeze
in his chest, just as mine did. He cleared his throat and took another bite of his cake to shake the intensity of the moment
off.
“So then, I bought a little old bus with enough space for me to fold up her wheelchair and store it in the back, and to give
Mom more room so that she could lay down and sleep while I was driving.”
“What a great idea.”
Why had I never realized before that Boadicea Adventures was his company? I was a blind idiot. I should have guessed. I should
have asked .
“Then she decided that, with all the room on the bus, she may as well invite a few friends along, you know? She wanted to see them all, say goodbye in person before she was gone. Things sort of took off from there. Twice a month we would plan a short excursion. Soon her friends were calling to ask when the next one was.”
“She told me that her favorite thing about those trips was the female companionship. The nonjudgmental support and ease of
being around other women. She said that the dynamic always changes somehow when men enter the picture. On her best days, or
worst days, she didn’t have to shut herself in or put on a brave face or care what she looked like or that her hair was falling
out in clumps. The other women held her up.
“I figured that there were probably other ladies out there who might feel the same. So I tarted up the bus and started a little
side business to help cover expenses at home. It just spread from word of mouth, which is why the clientele are all so...
similar.” He gave me a crooked smile.
“I see. I had wondered why an all-woman tour. She was right, though. The group dynamic is just simpler somehow. Closer, I
think. I loved that you developed a business out of something that makes people feel safe and happy.”
“I could never have done it without ma.” His face was so open and emotional. I couldn’t believe he trusted me enough for such
an intimate, vulnerable conversation. He looked down and pushed whipped cream with his fork.
“What about now? Are you happy? Do you like the tours?”
“I love them. I suppose I started this at first as a way to honor her. This wasn’t ever what I wanted for myself, but believe
it or not, it makes me happier than I think I would have been on my own path. Instead of academia—researching and publishing
from a dusty desk somewhere—I get to share in people’s lives. I get to talk about history, and learn, and teach, and travel
to new places, and occasionally help someone like mum who is going through a tough time. Being with them reminds me of her.”
It was heartbreaking—listening to him refer to his mother in the past tense, listening to him be strong. My own parents were in their sixties, and we weren’t as close as we could be, but even still, I don’t know what I would do if I lost them. My eyes watered from the thought of it. Losing some of those same things had broken my spirit. But I hadn’t had cancer to contend with. I hadn’t had the loss of a parent. And yet he had made something good out of it all. Set up a new life and career.
I sucked in a breath and held it, trying to retain control and keep the tears at bay. I poured us some more tea and gave a
soft smile.
“So what’s next for Boadicea Adventures then? Europe? Egypt? Nudist tours? Please tell me that it’s nudist tours.”
He laughed a little. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His smile faded. “No, I told you, I just take it a day at a time.”
“So you don’t have any plans?” He may as well have said that he got bored of breathing so he doesn’t do it anymore.
“I stopped making plans for my future years ago.” He shrugged a bit and cleared his throat of its softer tones. “I mean...
I have ideas. But, you know. You can’t plan, really, can you? Life just comes and takes what it wants from you. Better to
focus on what you have. Make the best out of the present.”
It was the same life motto he’d shared with me on the night of the sandwiches. It had seemed so worldly and wise then. Focusing
on the present and enjoying the beauty of life as you live it—it was what we all wanted, wasn’t it? Something I needed to
learn how to do. But now that I knew his past, I could hear the fear underneath it. It wasn’t just about being a happier person
and living in the present. It was a trauma response, born of the fear of losing everything again.
My voice came out soft. I didn’t want to push too hard. “What kind of ideas?”
He gave a humorless smile. He didn’t really want to answer, I thought, but he did, for me. “Well, I have a few. But the one that’s most pressing really is starting up some new tours that are entirely wheelchair accessible. See, Doris... well, Doris has been on every tour of mine since I started, but she won’t be able to get by much longer with just her cane. She uses a chair at home sometimes, but brings just the cane on our trips. It takes its toll on her. If I had another bus with a lift, it would be so much better for her. And I imagine there are other women that would like to travel but struggle to find anything that would truly work with a chair. Men too. There are a few accessible tours out there, but either you have to wait back while the others go for the more physical excursions, or they have some specialty tours but they cost an absolute fortune. Like four thousand quid for five days or something mad like that. But I know I could build a really exciting itinerary where they wouldn’t miss out on anything.” He stopped himself with a quick shake of the head. He was getting excited, more animated.
“Robbie. This is an incredible idea. My God, Doris would love that.”
“Sure, ideas are fun. But something like this would take a huge investment, a massive risk, loads of time and planning. I
just... well, I don’t really have it in me. And it’s just me here in this business—I don’t have a safety net.” He shook
his head again. “I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about it a lot. But it’s just a big change. And it may not work. Life
doesn’t usually follow your plans.”
“But sometimes it does.” I still believed that. I had to. Otherwise life was nothing but chaos.
He was staring intently at his tea and busying his hands. I could see that he didn’t want to be pushed any further and steered
the conversation to safer ground.
“I’m really happy with what I have right now. I’m really lucky for having all this. That’s what I’m going to focus on. I can honestly say that each day I work brings me joy. That’s a rare and beautiful thing. And I won’t risk it. Those women out there have given me more than a new career—they’ve given me a new family. Maybe that sounds too sappy.”
“You’re right. It does. I can loan you one of my new blouses if you like.” He laughed and ate my last bite of tea cake with
vengeful relish.