Olivia
To:
jpgreen@
Subject:
Hello
Hi Jacob, it’s me Olivia. How are you? I wanted to let you know that I arrived in Agra safely, if not a little delayed. I hope you’re keeping well?
Olivia stared down at her phone screen, anxiety spiking as she reread her pathetic attempt at a message. Why was she being so formal?
This isn’t a work client you’re emailing.
She rolled on to her front and started again.
Hey Jacob, I thought it was only fair to make use of the address you so kindly scribbled on my hand and drop you an email.
OK, that’s a bit better.
I’ve arrived in Agra safely, and from what I’ve seen so far …
From inside the taxi.
It looks as crazy and chaotic as Delhi! The train was delayed so I only got here last night.
And nearly had a panic attack because my schedule got messed up.
But I’m here and it’s really nice. No more shitholes for me … Anyway, I hope you’re
OK
and let me know where you end up rolling next!
AKA please write back to me.
Olivia x
‘Hmm.’ She reread the message. ‘Kiss or no kiss, kiss or no kiss.’
Does it matter?
She hovered over the send button, the kiss staring back at
her like a loaded gun, when suddenly her phone started to vibrate violently in her hand.
‘Jesus Christ!’ she yelped, as the sound of her alarm rang out harshly against the cool silence of the morning. How was it time to get up already? It felt like five minutes ago that she’d started writing her message to Jacob.
Fumbling to quiet the piercing sound, Olivia hurriedly hit the send button on the email and turned off the alarm, stuffing the phone down under the covers. Now it was done, she didn’t even want to look at it, let alone hold it in her hands. Thank God today was busy; at least she’d be distracted.
Yeah, by Tracey …
The thought sent a groan of regret rippling through her body.
Could she stay in bed and pretend to oversleep?
No. She was certain that someone from the group, probably Tracey herself, would come up and rouse her.
Why did she agree to the stupid idea in the first place?
Why couldn’t she have stuck to the original plan?
‘This had better be worth it.’ She yawned, dragging herself up out of bed and throwing on some clothes.
Slowly, and a little reluctantly, Olivia grabbed her pre-packed rucksack and headed down the stairs. The sky was lightening from jet black to a deep, inky blue, and the chill in the air sent shivers down her spine.
‘Good morning,’ came a croak from the dark hallway.
‘Oh my god!’ she yelped, jumping out of her skin and practically tumbling into Peter, who was hunched over against the front door.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you there.’ He came forward into the half-light. ‘But at least the adrenaline will wake you up a bit. It’s an ungodly hour to be up.’
‘Where is everyone?’ Olivia scanned the space for any other sign of life.
‘I left Tracey outside doing who knows what, and Betty is still upstairs deciding which scarf to wear. Apparently it’s important for the photographs.’
‘Will it be cold out? Do you think I should get another jumper?’ Olivia asked anxiously.
‘No, no, it will warm up soon enough. But if that woman doesn’t hurry up, I swear I’ll leave without her.’
‘Excuse me!’ a sharp voice interjected from the top of the stairs. ‘That woman
is here and ready to accompany her perpetually miserable husband to the Taj Mahal.’
Betty descended into the hallway, immersed in a cloud of jasmine perfume and Elnett hairspray.
‘Good morning, Olivia dear. I hope you haven’t had to wait too long with this bundle of joy. He can kill a mood quicker than a turd through a letter box.’
Olivia choked on her laugh as the old lady linked her arm.
‘All right, enough childish talk; we’ve got Tracey for that. Now, let’s get a move on,’ Peter grunted, making his way unsteadily out of the front door and into the courtyard. ‘It takes me an age to walk anywhere these days.’
‘Hello, fellow explorers,’ Tracey bellowed as they all stepped outside, her outfit just as shockingly bright and mismatched as before. ‘Are we ready to rumble?’
‘We certainly are,’ Betty bleated brightly. ‘Isn’t this exciting! I have waited all my life to see this building, and today is the day.’
‘Not unless we get a move
on,’ Peter huffed.
‘You’re right, Petey.’ Tracey clapped her hands together. ‘We’d better get cracking – the sun don’t wait for no one.’
The pair began to stride ahead, leaving Betty and Olivia following in their wake.
‘Do you know why the Taj was built, dear?’ Betty turned her orb-like eyes to Olivia.
‘Not really.’ She knew she’d read something about it in one of her guidebooks, but at this time in the morning after little sleep, her brain was in no mood to function properly.
‘Ah! Well …’ It was instantly clear how excited Betty was to be the one to tell Olivia the tale.
‘The story of the Taj Mahal is one of love. It was built by the Mughal emperor as a mausoleum for his wife, who died in childbirth. It is probably the biggest labour of love the world has ever seen.’ She sighed wistfully.
‘And to think, it took Peter six months to even put up a new clock in our kitchen.’
‘Because I’m eighty-five years old and have better things to be doing with my day,’ he shot back over his shoulder. ‘Now, hurry up
, you two. You’re dawdling.’
‘Good God.’ Betty squeezed Olivia’s arm tighter, picking up her pace just a fraction. ‘That man drives me bonkers, and yet I love him more now than the day I met him. Funny that, isn’t it?’
‘How long have you been together?’ Olivia asked, noticing that the road they were walking down seemed to have filled rapidly with groups of other rather excited-looking tourists.
‘We’ll have been married sixty years in November.’
‘That’s amazing!’
‘I have to say, it has been worth every second.’ She leant in closer to Olivia and dropped her voice. ‘I don’t suppose you have anyone special, do you, dear? A beautiful young thing like yourself must have them queueing round the corner.’
A little pang of longing pulled at Olivia’s chest. Back in London she rarely felt lonely; there was simply too much to do and no time to think about her lack of relationship.
Besides, it wasn’t in her plan for at least another three years.
But somehow, out here, where everyone seemed to be travelling in pairs or large groups, and people filled every inch of space available, being alone felt like quite a statement.
‘Nobody special for me yet,’ she answered. ‘The plan is to focus on my career first and then find a relationship after.’
‘Gosh, you young ones and your obsession with planning.’ Betty chuckled.
‘My youngest granddaughter is the same. She’s got her whole life mapped out, and she’s only in her twenties.
When she wants to get this job, and have this house, and the year she wants to get married and have children …
’ She paused and looked Olivia square in the face.
‘But I always tell her, you can’t plan when you fall in love. Heck, look at me!’
‘What do you mean?’ Olivia asked, trying to resist making a case for why Betty’s granddaughter sounded like she had, in fact, got a very sensible and admirable approach to life.
‘You think I wanted to fall in love with this one?’ She pointed at Peter, who was mopping his brow with the sleeve of his jumper.
‘Heavens, no! I had a whole plan in my mind to marry Jasper Cartwright. He was head boy at our school, exceptionally handsome and from an incredibly well-off family. But one summer spent at my auntie’s in Portsmouth changed it all.
I met Peter, fell in love and never looked back.
’ She sighed, placing a hand on Olivia’s arm.
‘We like to think we have complete control of everything in our lives, but if there’s one thing I’ve learnt, my dear, it’s that death is the only guarantee we have. ’
Olivia bit down hard on her lip as the image of Leah sprung to her mind.
‘I don’t mean to be morbid; I only mean to say how important it is to celebrate life every single day we get to live it.’
Olivia lifted her eyes to meet Betty’s. She went to speak but found all she could do was let the air fall in and out of her open mouth.
‘Right, people!’ Tracey’s brash voice interrupted the moment like a slap across the face. ‘We have arrived! Who needs tickets? Because if you haven’t got one, you’d better get in that queue over there. Time is marching on and we have a Wonder of the World to see!’
Peter rolled his eyes and grimaced, shuffling his way to join the end of the line. ‘The only wonder I want to see is her being quiet for five minutes.’
*
It took longer than anticipated to get the tickets, and by the time the group got inside the grounds the sun was already peeping its golden face over the horizon.
‘Come on
, we need to get closer. I want to get a good picture of this.’
‘Peter! You can’t just barge past people,’ Betty called after her husband, as he pushed his way through the middle of a group of rather bewildered German tourists.
‘So sorry. I’m really sorry,’ she apologized as they trotted behind.
‘It’s quite miraculous how quickly he can move when he wants to.
Back home, dragging him round Asda for the weekly shop is like hauling a dead weight. ’
‘And that
is the amazing thing about men: they always manage to produce miracles when it’s something they
want to do,’ Tracey bellowed, the volume of her voice never seeming to drop below a shout. ‘That’s why us women are better off doing things by ourselves most of the time – am I right, Livvy?’
The use of the nickname felt like a rake across Olivia’s skin; she was about to politely object when Peter stopped dead in front of them and threw his arms open wide.
‘Aha!’ he cried. ‘Perfect. Isn’t it just perfect?’