Chapter 23 #2
It was a natural enough question, but Vee couldn’t think of an answer. Eventually she said, ‘I suppose I’ve just been busy.’
This was met with a look of incredulity. ‘How can you be too busy to do art?’ said Elsie. ‘It’s just the best thing ever. You should start again right after you get home tonight. Have you got any felt-tips?’
Vee shook her head, realising that the last time she’d had any art supplies, Nigel had slung them out, thinking (or so he claimed) that they were rubbish.
‘You’d better get some then.’
Elsie turned over the page in her sketchpad and began a new drawing.
This time she was looking at a plant in an alcove nearby and soon had the basic shape outlined.
Vee’s fingers itched to have a try herself.
Should she get kitted out with a whole new set of paints and so on?
There wasn’t much money to spare at the moment, so it would be an extravagance.
Then she saw the happy concentration on Elsie’s face and changed her mind.
It was years since she’d had a hobby. Maybe she could get herself a drawing book and a basic set of pencils.
It would be a great opportunity to restart what had been her favourite way to spend any spare time.
The food arrived at this point and all four turned all their attention to the best fish and chips Vee had ever tasted.
The batter was crisp, and the thick-cut chips were perfectly cooked, golden brown and lightly sprinkled with sea salt.
Mushy peas and tomato ketchup came with this feast. For a while nobody spoke.
‘That was awesome,’ said Elsie at last. ‘Are we having pudding?’
The two men said they were much too full, so Vee took Elsie to the bar to order them both a knickerbocker glory.
‘You’re pretty, and you’re nice too,’ said Elsie, looking up at Vee and slipping a hand into hers.
Vee felt a lump in her throat. Motherhood had passed her by somehow, except for that one chance. The chance she’d let go. Dragging her thoughts away from the subject she never let into her mind if she could help it, Vee grinned. ‘I bet you say that to everyone who buys you a pudding,’ she said.
‘No, I don’t,’ said Elsie, seriously. ‘Only the really cool ones. Are you staying here now?’
‘In Willowbrook? Yes, I am. My cottage is nearly ready.’
‘Can I come and visit you when you move in?’ asked Elsie. ‘I know where it is.’
‘That would be lovely,’ said Vee, immensely flattered.
‘We can do drawing together. I’ll show you how to do a tree. My dad taught me. I haven’t got a mum. Well, I have, but she doesn’t visit much.’
This was getting heavy. Vee wasn’t sure what the right way to answer this would be. Her inexperience with children, something that had never worried her, suddenly seemed like a huge gap in her life. Elsie wasn’t waiting for a response though.
‘I thought my daddy might marry Luka. Boys can marry boys, you know. But Luka’s turned out to be a—’
‘Yes, I got the message,’ said Vee, laughing. ‘Oh, well, you and your dad get on well, don’t you? It’s good that he has you to keep him company.’
‘That’s what I told him. Hey, here’s our pudding. Wow!’
The towering layers of ice cream, fruit and various other delicious ingredients piled into tall glasses were a timely distraction, and Vee carried them back to their table.
She breathed a sigh of relief. That was one way to pause a tricky conversation.
By the time she and Elsie had finished, scraping out the last melted drops with their long spoons in a race to reach the bottom, the holiday team were arriving.
First came Beryl and Frank who busied themselves pulling two tables together in the quietest corner of the room and setting out eight chairs around them.
They were followed by Anthea and Maurice, graciously accepting congratulations from a few customers who hadn’t seen them since the night of Maurice’s romantic proposal.
Finally, Sid appeared escorting Winnie, resplendent in a flowing robe of magenta and sky blue.
‘I love Winnie,’ said Elsie. ‘When I’m bigger I’m going to have clothes just like hers, only mine will be in animal print. Look at her hoopy earrings,’ she added. ‘I might get some of those too. What’s going on?’
Rick explained about the planning meeting and he and Vee joined the others.
Before long, Frank was in position at the head of the table with his notebook at the ready, and the rest of the party were silent, faces turned towards him.
When he’d finished reading out his list, Beryl stood up.
‘I’d like to say a big thank you to Frank for organising us so well,’ she said.
There was a chorus of hear hears. Frank nodded graciously.
‘I enjoyed it,’ he said. ‘And now we must decide loosely where our accommodation will be. I vote we split the bookings between a few of us with iPhones. How about you find us somewhere in Rouen, Vee? You take La Rochelle, Rick. Maurice has already told me he and Anthea are happy to sort out a place in Bordeaux but we can do that when we’re on the way.
It’s not a busy time of year. I’ve made a list of possibles for each of you, it’s just a case of making the calls or online bookings.
We don’t have to do them all in advance, because our plans might change. ’
‘Yep. On the case, whenever you give me the nod,’ said Rick.
‘We’ll look up some possible options later, at home,’ said Maurice. ‘I can’t concentrate in here and Anthea’s the whizz on the computer.’
‘Good man. Beryl wants to ring your aunt next, Vee, to let her know we’re on the way and find out more about the village where she lives,’ said Frank.
‘It may well be too small for us to find a hotel there. Unless you’d rather do it yourself, of course.
She is your relation, after all,’ he added, as an afterthought.
Now it was becoming all too real. Vee felt her stomach give an uncomfortable leap as she imagined what her aunt might say when confronted with the idea of eight visitors, one of whom was the niece she’d been avoiding for quite some time.
‘No, it’s fine. I’m sure Yolanda will love hearing from Beryl,’ she said.
She watched Beryl tap in the number she’d given her earlier and held her breath.
Hearing one side of a conversation was never satisfactory but she would just have to do her best to follow it.
The thought of making this call herself was nerve-racking and she was very glad Beryl had taken the initiative.
She heard the deep, distinctive tones of Yolanda’s voice after several rings, just when Vee had begun to think she might have changed her number.
But no, although it seemed it was just an answerphone message.
Beryl left a brief message of her own and ended the call.
‘Never mind, I expect she’ll ring me back soon,’ she said. ‘I suppose it was too much to hope for that she’d be able to talk to me at the drop of a hat.’
Relieved and disappointed at the same time, Vee sat back in her chair. She felt as if she’d dodged a bullet but told herself she was being ridiculous. After all, where was the harm in visiting one of your family? Yolanda would be happy to see her. Wouldn’t she?