Footsteps on the Stairs.

Sara walked a short distance, paused sniffing the air fragrant with spring flowers, warm sunshine delighting her senses, and smiled knowingly to herself. It caressed her cheeks softly as she continued to stroll cautiously through the park with Molly ambling along beside her. 
     Her guide dog became her constant companion after the loss of her sight in a serious road accident. They trusted each other completely, with Sara feeling a huge need to have Molly with her at every opportunity, trusting her explicitly.  
     It took a long time before she plucked up courage to venture out alone, but knowing the area in detail before the accident, helped her enormously to gain confidence.
     She had plunged well into her thirties, seeking to become a competent lawyer, always passing exams with flying colours.
     It was a terrible shock to learn she had almost completely lost sight in both eyes, causing severe depression, not able to carry out her duties at work or at home for a long time afterwards. She needed to come to terms with what had happened, accepting the fact she was blind, and the sooner the better. Then as she accepted the turmoil it caused in her life, would need to readjust and carry on regardless. In helping to overcome the trauma, she realized there were other people in the world far worse off than her, but still she was ill at ease with her condition, often slipping back into depression - until one day Molly was presented to her. From then on, they became the best of friends, her guide dog being indispensable in no time. 
     Although Molly was pre-trained beforehand, having a keen sense of everything around her, she soon became Sara's eyes, lifting her out of her deep-seated depression, learning fast what was asked of her.
     Molly was a jet black Labrador, with a gentle loving nature, alert and always willing to carry out even the smallest of tasks. She was proving to be an important addition in Sara's life.
     Apart from several close friends, she had never married, but it was another thing she needed to deal with, shrugging it off in order to rid herself of any self pity. There was no point in feeling sorry for herself, considering it a waste of time instead. 
     'Isn't that right Molly?'
     Sara bent down, running a hand smoothly over her guide dog's satin-black coat and ears.
     As the sun flickered through trees, their branches becoming heavier with the new season's bright green leaves, although she couldn't see them, she could feel Molly's ears pricked up with alertness. She had been chosen carefully, her personality matching Sara's perfectly.
     Molly whimpered in answer, her tail waving backwards and forwards before Sara felt her stiffen slightly.
     'What is it girl?  Have you seen something that troubles you?'
     She crouched down, laying her stick carefully on the ground before running both hands over the animal's fur sensing something was wrong, not knowing what it could possibly be, which puzzled her. 
     The day was warm with a gentle breeze, sun streaming down with genuine warmth now that spring was almost turning into summer. Trees rustled as children played not far away. Laughter could be heard from the playground nearby.
     They often took a stroll in the park, a short distance from her apartment, mainly in the weekends. Sara was back at work full time and able to take Molly everywhere with her, now they were inseparable.
     The apartment was in a small block of several flats built in the Victorian era, old and creaking. Floors were wooden, ceilings high, with Sara's apartment being on the first floor. Both she and Molly negotiated the staircase with ease and it was seldom they ventured out at night. There was a small lift which they used on occasion, but often preferred the exercise using the stairs, being good for Molly also. 
     Her friends came for supper from time to time, but mostly she was on her own with only Molly for company. Sara learned to read in braille, enjoying the books on offer at the local library. They both loved the outdoors, with a stroll in the park when the weather was conducive.
     She looked around, trying to feel if anything was different. Her senses had become more intense, hearing and feeling both with her mind, intuition and natural intelligence.
     She felt something was bothering Molly, but couldn't ascertain what it was.
     They continued on hesitantly a little further until Sara stood still. 'Let's go home shall we Molly?' she suggested, feeling concerned. 'I think the sun has gone behind some clouds and the air is a little chilly.'
     Her dog whimpered in reply, trembling slightly. 
     Although it was still warm and only mid afternoon, Sara couldn't help a cold shiver running down her spine. She was still worried about Molly's sudden reaction in the park and as they set off, felt her nuzzle more closely against her leg. Was it for protection? she wondered.

That night after listening to the television for a while, Sara decided to try reading in bed. She was still puzzled about Molly and fondled her head and furry ears before rising out of a soft leather chair. 
     Together they padded up the wooden staircase to her bedroom, as her apartment was on two levels. There was a direct main entrance door from a small landing into the sitting room, with her kitchen leading off that, an unusual swing door existing between the two rooms.
     She lay in a hot bath, listening to some Beethoven, French horns sounding distinctly during a movement of his pastoral symphony. She always loved this piece of music, reminding her of the sweeping English countryside she could see before the accident, but not now.
     She sighed when it was finished. 'Wasn't that simply beautiful Molly? Don't you just love the music evoking the countryside?'
     Her dog sat up and barked once, causing Sara to laugh.
     'So you are in full agreement? I am glad. I'm not the only one with problems you know. That composer had his fair share of anguish too. Imagine being that musical and talented to write what he wrote, but slowly going deaf - not being able to hear your own music?' 
     She glanced over to where she heard Molly panting gently. 'Do you know I was told, that after he conducted a new piece of music at a concert for the first time, had to be turned around to witness the applause. Life isn't fair at times, but we just have to grin and bear it - don't we my lovely girl?'
     Another immediate bark came from Molly, then another.
     Sara continued, smiling to herself while sweeping waves of water over her body. Molly listened quietly beside the bath tub, dark brown eyes always alert. 
     'Monet had trouble with his eyes, but thankfully had an operation which meant he could return to painting with normal colours again - and the cellist Jacqueline du Pre was struck down at the height of her career. I wasn't born when she played with such talent - put her whole heart and soul into her music I believe.'
     After a long soak in the bath, Sara returned to her bedroom. The wooden floors were old and near the side of her bed a floorboard was broken, causing a severe dip over time, gradually becoming larger. She was used to dodging it with her stick feeling the hole, always stepping over it. She promised herself to have it repaired one day, but never got around to it. There were a few things like that, the latch on the walk-in pantry window being another.
     She sat up in bed with a large book, slowly moving her fingers over the words, until eventually she became drowsy and slept. Molly lay beside her on the floor, comfortably snug on her own bed.
     Soon after the clock downstairs struck one, immediately Molly sat up alert, ears pricked, a deep growl coming from her throat before placing her head lightly onto her front paws again, still listening.
     A faint noise was heard downstairs causing her head to rise suddenly, another growl emanating from her chest. It immediately woke Sara, usually a deep sleeper.
     'What is it Molly? What troubles you?' she asked in hushed tones.
     She wasn't content to fall asleep again, but rather lay still listening.
     Another noise was heard, this time alerting them both - a faint creaking that sounded like the swing door from the kitchen. 
     'There must be someone in my flat,' she whispered to Molly.
     The room felt eerily cold, where dampness hung like cobwebs. She sensed they were still there from winter that lingered long this year.
     Suddenly she heard more sounds coming from downstairs. Her breathing stopped as she strained her ears to listen, realizing it must be a man, as the footsteps on the stairs were too light for any woman's. Sara froze.
     It was a harrowing experience, for now her whole being was threatened, her soul in torment. This was no time to be blind. Her breathing remained shallow, while her heart pounded like hammer blows against her chest. She strained her ears as she stood listening, but for the moment all she could do was try to think. If she screamed, alas it wouldn't be heard in the flat above. The man who lived there was a shift worker and would not be home until much later. The old lady below was almost deaf, and wouldn't hear a stampede of elephants through her rooms.
     Sara's heart sank. She needed to think and fast, there was no time to lose. The sound of her bedroom door opening, frightened her beyond belief. For what seemed like hours, precious moments were slipping away. She ran to the door trying to secure it with something heavy. But what? There was no lock on it. Her chest of drawers was on the other side of the room and it was too late to shift it. With no lock, she stood thinking, fear rising within her, but nothing came to mind.
     As footsteps were heard entering, making a slow shuffling noise, her legs felt weak under her, barely able to hold her up. She shook in utter fear wondering why Molly wasn't at her side barking. 
     She heard breathing, that smelt heavily of alcohol, making her recoil. She whirled around to face her intruder square on, feeling his eyes piercing her very soul.
     'What do you want of me?' she asked timidly at first, becoming more defiant. 
     There was no answer but a stony silence.
     'Why have you come here?
     Sara felt his cold stare upon her and shivered with its intensity. All had gone quiet around her. More and more she experienced his cold hard stares. It mounted to a persecution never before experienced.
     She lifted her chin again wondering where Molly was and why hadn't she made a move.
     A strange sound of murmuring came from somewhere in front of her.
     'What was that?' she asked shakily in a low voice, not realizing he was so close. She could still distinctly smell strong alcohol on his breath and recoiled in disgust. The heavy breathing claimed all her attention, causing her whole body to freeze rigid. She felt his scrutiny upon her wondering why he hadn't made a move to kill her, or even attack.
     'What do you want and why are you here?' she asked again in a low desperate tone,' standing her ground.
     Immediately she heard the man step closer. 'Sometimes I don't think I know you at all. I saw you in the park again today and wanted you there and then. I mean to make you mine.'
     Sara was shocked and fell silent, trying to think on her feet quickly, at the same time feeling a sense of utter desperation.
     'You know that isn't possible,' she answered, wondering if he was about to make a move towards her.
     There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. 
     'Why isn't it?
     It was obvious he was not going to accept her answer.
     She dared to reply. 'Because for one thing, I wish to live alone.'
     'I could certainly help you there,' the voice leered.
     It frightened her so much, she thought her legs would give way altogether. She shook so uncontrollably, then made a brave attempt to ask a question. 
     'How did you get in anyway?' Her face creased in a deep frown.
     She heard a low snigger. 'The pantry window was ajar. You saw to that, making it easier for me. All I needed to do was find your room to claim you as mine. I'm good at climbing walls too.'
     Sara shuddered knowing that catch should have been mended long ago. It was too late now, she thought.
     'You have no right to me or my home,' she retorted, feeling his leering eyes and alcohol breath move over her again.
     At that moment he made a sudden rush to grab her, but thankfully she anticipated his advance and stepped back avoiding his grasping arms. Immediately Molly leapt out from under the bed where she'd been waiting her chance, and flew at the man pinning him down briefly. But he was too large and powerful, soon overpowering her, pushing the snarling dog off him.
     Sara screamed several times with horror, shaking uncontrollably, stepping back trying to find her stick she always carried. At first she couldn't find it, but feeling around frantically, soon picked it up to ward off her attacker.
     Molly wasn't put off in the slightest and as she growled deeply waiting to pounce again, the man rushed at them, consequently falling into the hole where the broken floorboard still remained. He fell heavily, tripping over his own feet, crashing to the floor in front of them, cursing and swearing as he lay there unable to move. Molly whimpered as she bit into his hand, yelping with glee while causing the intruder immense pain - successfully pinning him down, sprawled across the floor.

At that moment an off-duty policeman  walking home, heard the screams, and immediately followed them to Sara's apartment. He banged on the door furiously, thinking a murder was being committed.
     Another man came racing up the stairs to join him. Tom, Sara's neighbour from the flat above, was returning home unusually early after his shift.
     'What is it?' he asked anxiously, puffing and out of breath. 'What's going on?'
     'That's what I'd like to know,' the policeman answered, banging on the door again.
     Then it opened slowly. Sara stood there shaking so much she could barely speak.
     The policeman stood back for a moment, taking in the girl's appearance. Although it was still dark, light from inside the apartment shone onto the young woman slumped against the open door. She was beautiful, then he noticed she appeared to be blind.
     'Are you alright lady?' he enquired. 'I heard screams coming from here and came as quickly as I could. I'm a policeman, an off-duty one at that.' He showed her his identification, then realized she couldn't see it, so replaced it in his pocket. 
     Although Sara was still shaking uncontrollably holding her stick, her breathing coming in short gasps, she nodded slowly.
     'Yes... I'm fine, but there's a man up there and I think he has broken his ankle, judging by the painful moans.'
     She nodded in the direction of some stairs.
     The policeman checked her appearance briefly. 'Oh dear! Did he attack you in any way? Is he still dangerous? I must...'
     Sara gave a short laugh. 'Not now I don't think. My dog has seen to that.'
     'I see! Would you mind if I take a look?'
     Tom made a move to help, but the policeman put a restraining arm out first.
     'Think I'd best see to this. But if you would wait here with Miss...?'He asked Sara her name, then proceeded up the stairs two at a time.
     She almost collapsed at that moment and leaned against a wall, head lowered.
     'May I get you some tea or something?' Tom asked, sympathetically, taking one look at her.
     'Yes... thank you. That would help, or perhaps even a brandy.' She led the way to the kitchen with Tom following.
     'But I'll manage,' she said, feeling for the kettle to fill.
     Soon the policeman returned with her attacker in tow, moaning in obvious pain. He was handcuffed and limping badly, barely able to walk at all. Molly followed looking pleased with herself. She went over to rub against Sara's leg, enjoying the attention she received.
     'I've already called for an ambulance and will need to go with him,' the policeman remarked. 
     He gave the man a small shove with his spare arm.
     'No doubt he will be charged after being questioned and I'm sorry you have been put through this. Not a pleasant thing at all. Thank goodness you appear to be alright, apart from being badly shaken.'
     Sara drew a deep breath. 'Yes, I am too, but it's over thanks to Molly here.'
     She bent down to put her arms around her hero.
     'Now I know why you hid under the bed and waited your chance. You sensed what was going to happen, didn't you, you clever dog? You waited until just the right moment to pounce.'
     She laid her head down onto Molly, feeling very grateful. She felt her companion's loyalty, her tail wagging briskly.
     'What would I do without you now, huh?' 
     The policeman sniffed and led the grunting man towards the front door to await the ambulance outside, beginning to moan in agony. Somehow no one was feeling any sympathy for him. He paused briefly before passing through it, turning to face Sara for the last time.
     'It's a good thing that floorboard was broken,' he commented, giving a hint of a grin. 'I think it might have saved you from a very unpleasant experience.'
     Before Sara could reply, Molly gave a loud bark.
     'That's your answer,' she smiled, nodding towards Molly.
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    

   

    

Home again and new beginnings - Chapter 20

The journey home was relatively uneventful, each man lost in his own thoughts about how the future would unfold. It was a good feeling to be back in England at last. Each sighed with a sense of personal satisfaction, grateful they still remained intact after so many mishaps along the way. There had been moments when circumstances threatened their very existence, but somehow they escaped alive. 
     Harry returned home feeling justified in driving the last leg of the long journey himself, remaining in good health for many years to come. He sought a complete checkup and was relieved to be given a clean bill of health. 
     Tony in particular, was keen to renew his relationship with Kathleen, as by now he'd completely lost his heart to her; although deep down he was not convinced her feelings matched his. Certain doubts troubled him. He realized it may take time - he possessed plenty of that, but for now he needed to be patient - not always his forte. 
     He looked in the mirror again, tugged at his jacket and straightened his tie for the third time. They were to have supper together at a well known, very old restaurant - renown for its excellent food, good wines, log fires in the winter and an ambience envied by other top restaurants.
     Although they lived at least a half hour's drive apart, Tony barely noticed the distance, as he drove to Kathleen's place through the evening countryside with much on his mind. 
     Upon arrival, she was obviously pleased to see him again, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. He coloured immediately, delighting in the pleasure it gave him, before dropping his gaze briefly to look at his feet.
     Arriving at the restaurant, they welcomed a crackling log fire, the grate deeply set into a stone wall with a huge oak beam above. They were ushered to a quiet table close by, adorned with a crisp, long white tablecloth and deep pink napkins folded elegantly. Various glasses were set out for their choice of drinks, a candle burning in a container, producing soft flickering glows across the table.  
     Tony pulled Kathleen's chair out, making sure she was comfortably seated before he settled opposite.
     By now the November nights were closing in, darkness descending more rapidly with a quiet subtlety, creeping stealthily across the English countryside as a fox slinks silently at dusk to its lair. Shadows were lengthening, with nightly dewdrops lacing spider  webs along the hedgerows, barn owls hooting across fields in a determined search for their prey. The English countryside was slipping into its annual slumber for the long winter ahead.
     After consulting Kathleen about her pre supper drink, Tony lifted his glass.
     'Chin chin.'
     'To us,' she replied softly, her lips parting in a gentle smile. Tony's heart lifted and after tasting the very special wine, his eyes met hers in a warm embrace.
     'Do you really mean that, my dear?'
     She hesitated for several moments, lowering her eyes before meeting his again. There was genuine emotion in them. Tony noticed their depth as he patiently awaited her reply. Deep within him, there was a certain amount of anxiety. He reached over, placing his hand upon hers.
     Kathleen took a deep breath before answering.
     'I simply don't know for sure Tony. Only time will tell. Upon reflection, we share the best of both worlds and have much in common.'
     'Do I detect a "but" coming?' he asked quietly.
     Her eyes were riveting in the warm glow of firelight. Logs crackled and shifted in the grate, but he barely heard them. All he heard and felt at that moment was the strong beating of his heart.
     'Perhaps you do,' she answered, before sipping her wine, savouring its delicious aftertaste. 
     She had withdrawn her hand in order to read the menu again. There was a lengthy pause.
     The impulse to touch her in some small way was overwhelming. After she replaced the menu on the table she sat back for a moment, then caught his gaze upon her again. She smiled and Tony thought his heart would melt. He reached out again, hesitantly placing his hand on her forearm and she responded by covering his hand with hers. This was far more than he expected as he searched her face for answers to this predicament.
     'We both know this may not work out,' she continued, her eyes softly reflecting quiet emotion, 'but at least we could give it a chance.'
     Tony was beside himself with happiness, willing to accept her suggestion. He felt himself relax totally from the pent up tension he'd been experiencing.
     He sighed to himself before gazing into her eyes again.
     'We have never spoken of this before,' he began saying, 'as I felt it was never the right moment, but you have made me a very happy man my dear and I thank you deeply for your honesty. I will always treasure what we have. I have kept my feelings for you secret until now, and in so doing, denied myself the luxury of your intentions. Nothing would make me more fulfilled than to love you and be loved... but...'
     His hand moved over hers, feeling an intensity deep within, heart full until it was overflowing, like a waterfall after a spring rainstorm.
     'You are an exceptional lady Kathleen,' he continued. 'No one would ever doubt me. What you suggest is all I could ever wish for and more, much more,' he said, almost in a whisper for the emotion he was feeling. He tried to mask it by dabbing at his mouth with the table napkin.
     'I am content to leave things how they now stand... willing to accept your wishes with respect for all that you mean to me, my dear,'
     The smell of rich food hung heavily in the air as did her perfume. It was intoxicating, sending his senses reeling. Logs glowed and crackled continually in the huge old fireplace, adding to the ambience of the evening.
     'This is a lovely meal Tony... enjoyed with an equally lovely person,' she observed, smiling over the table at him. 'Thank you.'
     'You are more than welcome. The pleasure of sharing it with you is all mine.'
     They had finished the main course, plates pushed to one side momentarily before the waiter cleared them from the table. Tony held her hands tenderly in his, pausing to note the effect the flickering candle had on her face. It sent soft shades of pale pink into her cheeks, the likes of which made him almost gasp. 
     'No one could have enjoyed this evening more than me. It's been wonderful knowing you for this relative short time. No doubt I'll always have fond memories of the adventurous trip with my best friend Harry, but meeting you has been a milestone in my long life so far.'
     Tony paused, sitting back in his chair feeling contented, happy that he was able to express himself in such a way. 
     'What about we indulge ourselves in a rich dessert - and a perfect wine to compliment it?'
     'Thank you,' she uttered again, her face expressing quiet relief at what had been decided. 'I'd like that. An excellent idea indeed!' she smiled. 
     'But just this once, though!' He laughed with a twinkle in his eye.
     'Of course! I have to keep on eye on my figure, you know.'
     Tony grinned to himself. 'That's just what I've been doing,' he muttered.
     Kathleen looked up suddenly. 'Did you say something Tony?'
     'Umm... I don't think so...what have you decided on then?' he asked, trying to hide his mirth, changing the subject instead.

After the meal, Tony drove back to her home. He was aware he wasn't the world's best driver, but he'd been careful not to drink too much wine just the same. It was imperative to keep a clear head, returning them both safely. He'd always been conscious of the consequences, watching his speed and the road with caution. So far over his long life, he'd managed to remain in one piece, being extra careful each time he ventured out. This evening was no exception. He slowed the car to a halt when they reached her place, the front garden bathed in pale shades of yellow moonbeams, sending them shimmering across dewy grass. 
     Tony turned to Kathleen. 'Could we do this again some time do you think?' he asked, a little anxiety creeping into his tone, still not sure of their relationship in the future.
     Kathleen gave a little laugh. 'Of course! But as long as I pay next time,' she responded emphatically.
    Tony raised his hands as if in gracious surrender. 'If you insist.'
     'I most certainly do!' she laughed again.
     'Very well. It's a done deal, but...'
     'No "buts!" Okay?'
     All Tony could do was nod his approval. He gave in without any further friendly banter, realizing there was no point trying.
     She turned at the front door of her house and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. 'I won't invite you in this time, but when next we...'
     Kathleen didn't get a chance to continue. Tony turned, and briefly kissed her tenderly on the mouth, surprising not only her but himself as well, before retreating to shake her hand a little more formerly. Much to his relief she never appeared to mind in the slightest.
     He bit on his bottom lip, wondering if he'd done the right thing, trying to read what might be going through her mind.
      'Yes,' he said quietly, almost in a whisper. 'I do hope it will be soon.  For now, I'll bid you goodnight my dear.'
     Her expression was one of warmth, head tilted in acceptance and, he hoped, agreement.
     He bowed briefly, in a gracious gesture, before turning and walking back to his car.
     She didn't see the smile on his face, aware of what he was feeling - or did she, he wondered?

They continued their relationship over the years, sharing several interests. Tony became more than interested in art and together they visited several galleries - among other places.
     After Kathleen retired from her teaching post, they saw even more of each other, enjoying eating good food, drinking excellent wines, travelling to several gardens but never discussing marriage. It would always remain a hidden subject, neither caring to bring it to the fore. Tony was content with what they possessed, always delighting in the woman he secretly loved. He was reluctant to question her again, continuing to respect her wishes.

Harry decided to put an end to his procrastinating once and for all. He made a huge effort until his book was finally written, finishing it a lot sooner than he expected.
     His apparent talent for self expression in his knowledge and hunger for English and European history, although fictitious based on fact, his writing was accepted into the literary world without question. No one was more surprised than he when his book was eventually published. Even more so when it was much acclaimed by other historic fiction authors and critics. It astonished many after its publication, himself included.
     Harry's friendship with Maudy grew throughout the years, but never reaching the pinnacle in comparison as Tony's well matched relationship with Kathleen.
     The two men never got around to traveling together again, but harboured wonderful memories of their last trip, often spending time laughing and reminiscing over a pint of beer or dark ale, discussing life and the peaks and troughs that went with it. Their friends at the golf club were good listeners, but didn't quite believe the stories Harry and Tony related.
     Their last, somewhat event-filled journey through Europe, at times landed them in life threatening predicaments and could be described as certainly adventurous for two such mature gentlemen. They'd faced adversity many times, often landing them in situations from which neither would have dared think possible. Nevertheless it was a miracle they'd survived, but survive they did.
     Harry was content to live alone, and with Maudy, his friends and family, didn't feel lonely. He began another book, but it was never finished. He sadly died of a massive heart attack when well into his eighties.
     Tony remained his best friend indefinitely, visiting his grave on a regular basis. Although missing him beyond belief, knew Harry was peacefully at rest now. He sighed contently as he looked down, in the knowledge the old rascal's book was eventually a triumph.
     He was about to return to his car, but before doing so, rested a hand on the gravestone bearing a personal message. He looked down - not with sadness, but rather with thoughts of the lives they'd enjoyed, memories of the fun and mishaps shared, beer consumed often accompanied with laughter, fine wines and delicious meals eaten over the years. His would never be quite the same without Harry.
     'Goodbye old man,' he whispered quietly.
     The lump in his throat prevented more words of similar sentiment.
     'Old man huh?' he thought he heard in return. 'We'll see about that!'
     Tony smiled and toddled back to his car, tears rolling freely down each cheek - still driving and still very much alive.


    
    
    
 

    
    
    
    
    

Crossing the Channel - Chapter 19

 Leaving their hotel as night still hovered around them, soft shades of dawn appeared on the horizon, dark clouds looming across a streaky sky, and various thoughts were flickering around Tony's mind, like butterflies on a buddleia. 
     He turned to Harry, who was concentrating on finding the right road to the docks. 'What did you mean last night when you said that about crossing the Channel?'
     'I'm not sure what you mean old boy.' Harry frowned slightly, watching the line of cars in front of him, all heading in the same direction.
     'Of course you do. That comment that I would really enjoy the crossing today.'
     Harry couldn't help smiling to himself, but tried not to show it. 'Oh that! He followed a few other cars through a roundabout. 'Nothing really...' then glanced quickly over at Tony, who was still looking puzzled.
     'Yes you do.' His eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'You made quite a point of it.'
     'Did I?'
     Tony let the matter drop for now, as they neared the end of the long queue to load onto the ferry.
     Somewhere a flock of gulls were calling, their loud mewing piercing the salt-sea air. Lights surrounding the fisherman's end of the long wharf, shimmered golden across the movement of water, waves constantly slapping against large wooden bollards. 
     The cross Channel ferry waited patiently to admit the seemingly endless onslaught of vehicles, like a huge animal lying in wait for its prey. Although still early, morning light had barely encroached upon the scene, but rather darkened further, as ever increasing clouds fingered tauntingly across the sky. By now it was mid autumn, when storms could blow up menacingly from the Atlantic shrouding everything in its path, with strong winds and heavy rain. 
     'I hope we are not in for a violent storm.' Harry studied the threatening sky, his expression equally dark.
     Tony peered directly ahead at what was heading their in their direction. 'Doesn't look good at all, but shouldn't affect the sailing. They must be used to it by now. But I still can't swim. Not much anyway.'
     Harry was searching for their tickets muttering,  'you did pretty well when you jumped into the river after that young child. It was a miracle neither of you drowned.'
     'Different if it was the English Channel and in a storm though,' Tony replied, beginning to look a little concerned.
     His friend chuckled playfully. 'No chance of that,' he emphasized. 'Good grief Tony! These ferries to and fro every day - well most days I think. How often do they get caught in a bad storm? The captain would take the impending weather conditions into consideration first, I would have thought. Now quit worrying - alright?'
     But Tony wasn't so sure. He continued scowling while looking fearfully at the oncoming blackness.
     They drove aboard, pulling up close to the car in front, Harry firmly applying the hand brake, engaging reverse gear just in case of any future movement after the ship set sail. He hoped it would help keep the car more stable should there be a swell, although he wasn't convinced it would.
     As they reached a lounge on the top deck, clouds appeared to explode with increasing intensity, shedding water horizontally across the windows, making it almost impossible to see the lightning strikes forking the sky. Thunder raged and the wind became gradually more ferocious as they set sail. 
     An announcement from the bridge informed the passengers that the crossing might "become a little rough," and to expect movement within the ship.
     Tony was tempted to say 'I told you so' to Harry, but refrained for now.
     As the ship sailed beyond French waters, an obvious swell became apparent, creating a certain amount of nervous trepidation  amongst its passengers. It began to move from side to side perilously.
     'I don't like this,' Tony informed Harry, as they began to settle into their seats.
     'No, but what you might like, is about to happen.'
     Tony became very curious, watching the expression on his friend's face light up. 'What on earth do you mean by that?' he asked, studying Harry's face for enlightenment.
     Harry suddenly stood up to greet the two ladies approaching, with enough feminine grace to please any man. Kathleen and Maudy smiled with obvious pleasure to see the two men.
     'We meet again,' Maudy said, extending her hand to Harry.
     Tony was more than a little surprised at the unexpected meeting, and could hardly conceal his obvious enthusiasm for seeing Kathleen again. His attention turned quickly back to Harry thinking he was now well aware of what he'd known all along. He greeted the other lady with a delighted smile.
      'How lovely to see you again, and here of all places.' He was about to take both her hands in his, when the ferry unexpectedly lurched into a large wave. The giant bow dived headlong into it, before the stern sat high out of the water, shuddering briefly, then came crashing down into the last of the swell. It sent Tony flying towards Kathleen, grabbing her shoulders in his alarm to prevent himself falling. He was horrified at his actions.
     'Oh dear! I'm so sorry my dear. What a thing to happen. I quite lost my footing. Are you alright?'
     'Yes of course,' she laughed. 'Please don't worry, it's not a problem at all. I think we are in for a rough crossing by the feel of it.'
     Tony reddened. 'I'm afraid I'm not a very good sailor, but judging by the look of a few other people, neither are they.'
     The storm raged as the sea became even more angry, tossing the ferry around like a cork in a bathtub. People clung to side rails where possible, while others found it difficult to go up and down the staircase. In the restaurant, glasses and plates were held to prevent them tumbling onto the floor, as anxious faces looked on. Platters of breakfast food slide from one side of the table to the other while the ferry crashed into another huge wave.
     Harry looked a little alarmed but stood firm, inviting the ladies to the restaurant, his face a peculiar shade of green. 'Have you had any breakfast yet?' he asked, not all that interested himself.
     They shook their heads. 'We left too early for that,' answered Kathleen.
     'Let's eat then, if you can brave the conditions.'  He glanced quickly at Tony for approval. 'It might be preferable than just sitting around here.'
      'But it's getting even rougher,' Tony remarked quietly, eyeing the rain-splashed windows with apprehension.
     'Good idea.' Thank you - yes let's.' Maudy smiled, turned and led the way into the restaurant.
      Tony managed to whisper sideways to Harry as they wandered in. 'Are you sure about this? I mean, you look, err... a little odd.'
     'Yes of course, I'll be fine, don't worry,' came the firm reply. Tony wasn't so sure, and muttered something a little disparaging to himself about Harry's decision.
     The ship continued pitching, then dipping and crashing in and out giant continuous waves, its passengers bravely nonchalant about the conditions, most of them taking it in their stride, while others sat looking apprehensive, or walking slowing stopping and starting down the corridors as the ship rose and sank with the motion. 
     Several mouthfuls into the meal, Harry placed his cutlery in the middle of the plate. 'Will you excuse me? I... I'd like to... sit elsewhere for a while.'
     Immediately Maudy glanced at him. 'You do look a bit queasy. Are you alright?'
     'I'll be fine soon. Thank you.' Harry rose awkwardly from the table as a momentous thunderclap sounded almost overhead. Lightning streaked the sky soon after, as the ship moved unforgivingly upon the sea. Apologizing to the others for his eminent condition, but not exactly admitting to the fact he felt awful, he hesitated for a moment, holding fast to the table. The ship gave another shudder before diving into yet another deep wave. 'Ohh...' He wasn't even sure he could keep his breakfast down, excusing himself once more before exiting the restaurant.
     'Oh dear!' said Kathleen, sympathetically. 'Poor Harry, I do hope he'll be back soon.'
     'He's not a great sailor when it's rough I'm afraid.' Tony wasn't either, but was reluctant to admit it.
     Maudy gave a hint of a laugh. 'Neither are we for that matter, but were happy to give breakfast a try, weren't we Kathleen?'
     'You were,' she retorted gently, with a grin. 'But I had my doubts.' Her expression changed to one more serious, eyebrows gently knitting together, eyes bright. Tony noticed how endearing they were as they appeared to sparkle before him - momentarily he was lost in them. Her mouth was pretty, a dimple appearing in each cheek.
     He shook himself inwardly. 'So did I,' he owned up - then chuckled. 'It seems we all did.'
     Not long after, Harry returned with a certain amount of trepidation, slipping gingerly back into his seat.
     Tony turned, putting one elbow on the table, resting his cheek against a fist to study him. 'How are we now then?' He frowned again as he often did, when he saw the look on the other man's face.
     'Hmm...' he said again. 'Like that is it?'
     'I guess so,' replied Harry, in no uncertain terms. 'I'm sorry ladies. Let's hope things will improve soon. I've never experienced conditions quite as rough as this in all the times I've crossed the English Channel.'
     Maudy commiserated. 'Don't you worry Harry. None of us are feeling all that bright so far. It hasn't been easy, so let's hope this storm will abate soon and our arrival back in England will be brighter. Portsmouth can look really welcoming most of the time.'
     She tried to reassure him, placing a hand over his arm. Immediately he felt a warmth flood throughout his whole body, and smiled back at her appreciating the soothing words and apparent kindness.
     'It's simply not cricket, as the English might say,' Tony suddenly announced, tongue in cheek, surprising everyone with his outburst. 'I mean, here we are, all four of us meeting up again after a splendid journey here, there and everywhere, and a nasty storm decides to try and upset things.' He looked at the others and they all laughed together - he included.
     'Oh never mind,' Kathleen said with a shrug. 'What the heck! We are all still in one piece - well sort of. Apart from poor Harry.' She glanced in his direction, her head inquiringly to one side. 'Alright now Harry?'
     'I'll live, and none of us have fallen overboard - have we Tony?' he  asked pointedly, reminding him of jumping into the river when he couldn't swim, to save a young girl from drowning. 
     'Not this time thank goodness.'
     He muttered something to himself about learning how to swim and whether it was possible to teach an old dog new tricks.

Eventually and in everyone's opinion, the last part of the crossing was much improved. The storm passed, the sea becoming quieter, much to the relief of the crew, making the docking in Portsmouth on the south coast of England, relatively straightforward.
     As Harry drove down the ramp leaving the large ferry nestled against the wharf in bright sunshine, he sighed with obvious delight to be almost home. He glanced over to his friend sitting beside him.
     'It will be wonderful to see the ladies again, once we have settled in back home again, won't it?'
     'Indeed it will. Something to look forward to. I for one feel a different man. I'm pleased we have arranged to see each other.'
     Tony smiled inwardly to himself, happy in the knowledge that Kathleen had agreed for them to meet up again soon. The ladies didn't live a long way from the men, making things easier for the future.
     He tapped the dashboard. 'And we won't be needing her again, thank goodness!' He thought he heard a distinct huffiness in reply, and looked incredulous back again. His eyebrows shot up before turning to his right.
     'Honestly Harry, it's been a fabulous trip - not all plain sailing as we've said before, but you've been great company old boy.'
     'Old boy huh? We'll see about that!'
     Tony grinned in his usual charming way.
     'Yeah, but not that old!'

    
    



    
    

    
    
    
    

The last day in France - Chapter 18

It was still early. Tony stretched out in his large bed, pressing a hand against his forehead remembering the night before, then peered through the gap between the curtains as rain beat furiously against the window. Bleary-eyed, he contemplated advancing to the bathroom to shower, but rather luxuriated in the comfort a while longer.

     He groaned, before placing his feet onto the carpeted floor while he became fully conscious. 'Argh...where is the sun when we need it,' he moaned again, realising he needed to find his way out of the medieval maze of Rouen, with its cobbled one way streets - narrow and confusing. He tottered over to the table and office-like chair near the rain-splattered window, picked up the map and began to study it. 'Hmm...' he murmured. 'Perhaps it's not that difficult after all,' although he wasn't that confident in Harry's map reading skills either, a sinking feeling manifesting itself in the pit of his stomach.

     He thought this being the last day he would drive Harry's car in France, it was necessary to exit the town without any major mishaps.
     In his own room next door, Harry was also having similar thoughts of severe apprehension. 'There's always Miss Madam in dire circumstances,' he wondered out aloud. 'Perhaps this is one of them. I'll program the sat/nav to get us out of here, that's what I'll do.' He smiled to himself, feeling more confident. 'After all, it won't be the end of the world if we make a mistake - will it?' He remonstrated briefly about the wily Miss Madam before admitting aloud again, that they really had no choice in the matter, unless as the only other alternative was to entirely trust his map reading skills. 'Hmm... perhaps not,' he corrected.
     Both men discussed the situation at the breakfast table. They would make their way towards Caen, close to where the ferry would return them to England. It was agreed to use Miss Madam in the hope she was trustworthy. She hadn't always been helpful. So thoughts of the night before were momentarily pushed to one side, as other events took precedence for now.
     After a leisurely breakfast of cereal, warm croissants and coffee, the black Mercedes emerged cautiously from the underground carpark, easing its way up the narrow ramp to pass through the barrier. With the minimum of fuss it thankfully lifted, so they entered the first narrow street with a certain amount of trepidation.
     Tony gripped the steering wheel as the rain eased, eyeing the small screen to his left for directions.
     'Follow the highlighted route for 100 yards then turn right,' the voice from the dashboard announced, clearly, concisely.
     'Right then! Not a problem.  So far, so good,' muttered Tony, keeping to a slow enough speed so as not to make any major mistakes. There was no going back.
     Harry felt tense. Until they were safely out of Rouen he could not relax.
     'Think you need to swing to the left soon,' he suggested, watching the screen.
     'Don't confuse me Harry. We said we'd leave it up to Miss Madam today.'
     'Well, if you say so, but...'
     Miss Madam continued, 'after 200 yards, turn left.' Soon after she repeated the command, 'turn left at the next intersection.'
     Harry waited for the lights to turn green and edged the car slowly around the corner, his hesitancy annoying the French drivers behind him. So much so, one sped past giving him an unpleasant and very worried look.
     The road was exceptionally wide and unfortunately Tony hadn't realized it was one way. Suddenly many cars, seemingly spread out across the road, were heading straight for them, advancing at an alarming pace.
     He drove about 20 meters until Harry pressed both feet to the floor, shouting, 'Tony! Look out!' his face reflecting impending doom, beginning to sweat with icy fear.
     Immediately his friend realized his mistake. There was no choice. He slammed the car into reverse and backed hurriedly from where he had come, a panicked look on his reddening face, beads of sweat breaking out above his top lip and forehead.
     'Oh hell...Tony! Be careful entering that lane of traffic for goodness sake,' Harry stressed, eyeing the oncoming traffic in utter disbelief. He was beside himself as he glanced behind them again, his car dangerously close to others around them.
      Miss Madam simply uttered in a calm, unhurried voice, 'Recalculating...'
     'You can say that again!' cried Tony. 'Phew, that was close!' he heaved, slowing until it was safe to proceed again into the correct lane of traffic, clearly shaken.
     By this time Harry reconsidered their situation, deciding to take over the driving from now on, no matter what. He too, was badly shaken. Tony didn't hesitate to agree, having no cause to argue after what they had just experienced.
     'We are past the worse of it I think,' Harry suggested a little later, before asking his friend to stop the car at the first opportunity. 'Maybe it was partly my fault that I confused you Tony. We did agree to trust Miss Madam and I think she was right.'
     'All is well now, but that predicament sure shook me,' he sighed deeply. 'I never want to go through that again. I guess we were lucky to escape the way we did. Sorry Harry, but I had no choice. It seemed the only thing to do,' he offered, regretting the predicament deeply. 
     'It's over. We'll have to try and put the matter behind us. I only hope the gearbox is still intact though. Perhaps you can stop where we can grab a serious cup of coffee,' Harry suggested, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers. 'I'm in need of one - or even something much stronger after that. Phew! That was a nasty moment seeing those oncoming cars. One not to be repeated. Good God, hope the French drivers saw our English plates so we can be forgiven. They didn't even slow down - just kept coming at such a frightening pace...'

Harry climbed into the driver's seat, feeling somewhat relieved he was at last in charge of his own destiny. Whether his heart problems were over with, he didn't care at this moment, but if anything would give him a heart attack, that experience would. Tony's driving, as far as he was concerned, was not up to expectations when it came to staying alive. He heaved a huge sigh of relief to himself, before carefully pulling out onto the busy road towards Caen.
     'I wonder where the ladies are now?' Tony asked, gazing out of the window some time later. 'Do you think we'll ever see them again Harry?'
     'Hmm... it's difficult to know. Didn't they mention they were returning home soon?'
     Tony glanced at the sat/nav before answering. 'She's gone quiet. I get suspicious at these times. Yes, I think you're right. It would be funny if they were on the same boat as us.'
     'Unless they were driving on to leave from Cherbourg. Anything said about that?'
     'Not that I know of,' replied Tony. 'I think I'm quite fond of Kathleen. She's a classy lady and not like a school teacher at all.'
     Harry was momentarily taken aback. 'What are teachers supposed to look like?'
     His friend coloured slightly, fidgeting with the map. 'Alright then, perhaps I'm being old-fashioned, but in the past they were sometimes considered as err...'
     'Go on...what?'
     Tony hesitated again, preferring not to commit himself, changing the subject rapidly.
     'I think you have to turn soon,' he suggested.
     Harry scowled, knowing Tony had wriggled out this time, but he was determined not to let his friend entirely off the hook. He was determined to tackle him later. 'Not yet,' he said. 'About five more kilometers.'
     Miss Madam was in agreement. Soon she gave further orders. 'At the next intersection, take the second exit.'
     'That means straight ahead, judging by that indication,' Tony sneered, looking at the sat/nav picture. But Harry wasn't so sure. He drove on and took the first exit, before realizing his mistake.
     'Damn and blast! Wrong exit. Now what?'
     A voice, far from sounding conciliatory, remarked. 'Recalculating... after 100 yards, turn left.'
     'I'll give her recalculating', grumbled Harry, but drove on regardless, his hands gripping the wheel more tightly, his expression meaningful. 
     Tony sat back in his seat saying nothing, but felt slightly smug. 

The day wore on as the weather brightened, autumn leaves littering the road, scattering to and fro, skittish when cars drove over them. Nearby parks were adorned in autumn's mantle. Rooftops were sprinkled with coloured leaves, the gutters full as they entered the outskirts of Caen.
     'Now to find our hotel,' Harry said with a sigh. 'It's not in the center it seems, but near the port of Ouistreham. Look Tony?  See that stretch of land near the water?' he said, indicating to his left.  'That's where we need to be.' He quickly glanced at the sat/nav from time to time, noting the direction to which he was driving.
     Miss Madam suddenly announced. 'In 200 yards, turn right.'
     Tony frowned instantly, his head snapping around to check the sat/nav. 'Right? Surely not! That would take us into the sea.' He poured scorn upon the decision, but Harry drove on regardless.
     Soon it became obvious Miss Madam had been right all along. A small road took them across a narrow bridge, crossing a wide inlet.
     'I told you so!' she mocked.
     'Alright, alright,' Harry sneered. 'Right again Miss Fancy Pants! But why didn't we head straight for the hotel? We appear to have gone round in a circle,' he retorted with annoyance.
     Silence.

       He could almost hear a sigh of satisfaction coming from the dashboard and shook his head in dismay.
    
After finding their hotel with considerable ease, they stopped at the entrance to view a noticeboard. It stated there was a restaurant attached to the hotel possessing Michelin stars.
     'We could give that a try,' suggested Tony hopefully. 'Looks rather err... refined. What do you think Harry?'
     'Absolutely old man, but first I need a rest, followed by a cold beer before supper. A Kilkenny would go down well. It's been a trying day at times.'
     When they checked in, it was suggested they book a table for the evening meal, as the restaurant was popular with returning guests, many of the locals also.
     They sat drinking large cold beers, in huge white leather chairs near the reception desk, sighing with relief their long journey through France, Italy, Switzerland and back through France was nearly at an end.
     'Home tomorrow and dear old England again,' sighed Harry with a grin. 'Driving on the left side of the road, our own beds, old country pubs to visit - kings, castles and cathedrals. England, our England.'
     His friend laughed. 'You are beginning to wax lyrical old man. Not kings I feel. Queen maybe.
     Harry chuckled. 'She'll do nicely. Lyrical or not, it'll be good to be home again. It's been a fantastic journey - though not always as expected...' He coughed slightly behind a hand, then beamed at the person sitting opposite him.
     'We've certainly had our fair share of problems,' Tony suggested, taking a long draught of his beer, watching the condensation run down the glass. 'But we are still alive after all that.'
     'Only just...' Harry noted. 'It's a miracle we are here at all to reflect on what we've been through. Yes, not all plain sailing, but...' He became serious for a moment. 'Honestly Tony, we really have been in some tight scrapes. Thank goodness we will return to tell the tales.
     'To our golf-playing chums? I doubt they'll be interested in the nitty-gritty - finding dead bodies, falling down cliff tops, saving a child from drowning - that sort of thing. Who'd be interested? If it's our round of drinks...'
     Harry reflected for a moment. 'Yeah, I know what you mean old chum.' For a moment he was lost in the depths of his memory. He drained his glass and rose to head for the dining room, Tony not far behind him.
     The aptly named La Mare O Poissons restaurant was filling up steadily. The tables looked impressive and well laid out.
     'This looks promising,' Tony whispered quietly as they entered. 'For a Michelin star restaurant, I'm expecting great things.' He pulled his chair out and sat down after they were ushered to their table. 
     The entrees were superb. Harry said he wasn't a big fan of foie gras, but when he tried his Le foie gras de canard - chutney de fruits secs, tuile aux pavots, crouton a l'huile de noisette, he was more than impressed. It was beautifully presented, as was what Tony ordered - Les langoustines, cuite dans sa coquille, gaspacho de tomate au basilic, nems de legumes. Each mouthful was savoured appreciably.
     'It's the last proper French meal we'll have this side of the Channel. So why not?' Harry commented, trying to justify indulging in another top class meal. 'Besides, I might die tomorrow and then I'd be annoyed I hadn't eaten here.' He chuckled again at what he'd said, with a slight cynicism in his tone Tony neglected to notice. 
     'At least wait until we cross the Channel old boy. It would be most inconvenient for you to croak it now.'
     Harry couldn't help but laugh, although his brows knitted together as he thought about it. 'Alright. If you say so.'
     'I do and you must. Is that clear?' Tony had a wicked gleam in his eye.
     Harry shook his head slowly and grinned. 'You can be an old bugger at times, if you'll excuse the term, but it's been a marvelous trip. Honest it has.'
     'Yes, I agree. Wouldn't have missed it for the world.'
     The waiter cleared their dishes before Tony began requesting how he wanted his steak cooked. The waiter stood tall and serious, straightening his back, then simply waggled a finger at Tony, shaking his head slowly, informing him that the chef does it his way.
     Tony looked a little sheepish after the young man had disappeared into the kitchen. 'I guess if you are that good a chef, you prefer not to be told. Ah well... for once I stand corrected. Should have known better I guess.'
     Harry pulled one of his faces, shrugging. 'It seems we are never too old to learn new lessons.' 
     There was a low mutter opposite.
     The remainder of their meal was beautifully presented, every delicious morsel on their plates enjoyed.
     They had chosen excellent wines, both agreeing it was one of the best meals they'd ever eaten, still savouring the moment.
     'Oh my goodness that was spectacular!' Tony sighed, sitting back in his chair, dabbing his mouth with the crisp white napkin. 'The waiter was quite correct, the steak was cooked to perfection.' Then he grimaced. 'Wonder what tomorrow night's supper will be? At this moment I don't really care - after that.'
     'You are always thinking about the next meal, but me neither. We'll be back in England by then.'
     They discussed the intricacies of fine dining, then began reminiscing about the last few weeks, particularly about the two ladies they'd fortunately met.
     Harry looked across at the other tables, then at the ceiling. 'I wonder where they are now?'
     'They never did commit themselves in any way...' Tony was thoughtful, almost morose. 'But I'd sure like to see Kathleen again.'
     'We didn't either, for that matter,' Harry replied. 'We all got on so well too.'
     'Didn't what?' Tony's mind was elsewhere.
     Harry frowned while finishing the last of his wine, replacing the glass firmly on the table. 'Are you in love or something?' he enquired, looking serious. 'You haven't been listening to me again, have you? 'We didn't commit ourselves either, if you remember...'
     'Perhaps we should have.,' Tony said gently, without waiting for Harry to finish.
     'No... I think it's best. We all remain free this way. If we ever see them again...'
     His friend interrupted. 'Well I hope we do. They were such fun and we did appear very well suited.
     Harry sighed. 'Maybe so, but it's great to maintain our freedom too,' he emphasized. 'The best of both worlds, you might say. Anyway, they might be on their way home by now.' He glanced quickly across the table.
     'Do you think that's possible?' Tony looked a little downcast, which Harry noticed instantly.
     'Ah ha! Looks like love is in the air. You really are such a romantic Tony,' he teased.
     Harry continued gently teasing his best friend, until it was time to return to their  respective rooms. The ferry was leaving early the next day and they needed to be up and ready, on the pier in good time.
     'Goodnight Tony. I think we'll really enjoy the passage home tomorrow.' Harry bit his bottom lip, trying not to smile outwardly, glancing again at the man beside him, who looked somewhat puzzled.
     'Why do you say that?' he enquired, still  obviously puzzled.
     The door to Harry's room closed quietly behind him. Tony shrugged and entered his own room, sleepy, but thoughtful.