There comes a time in one's life when you need to face the music - take the bull by the horns, grit your teeth and simply get on with it.
The experience of hospitalization can be daunting for some, a little scary maybe, leaving you with a feeling of severe apprehension beforehand. But not for me! I was actually looking forward to it, with no pre-operation nerves whatsoever.
In fact, I relished the idea, my thoughts positive. I packed a small bag with a few 'essentials' of my usual 'always take with you just in case' sort of things. A banana went in, a mandarin and my usual container of peppermint tea, (because the stomach has a nasty tendency to come back up the oesophagus and block the natural passage of food.) This has an interesting name called a hiatus hernia. Ah yes! Like many others I have one of those, but it's easily managed with a pill a few times a week, which keeps the wolf from the door - or rather food digesting. So I shrug it off and keep drinking the tea. I bless the person who once informed me of the benefits of drinking peppermint tea. It helps enormously with digestion and my container of this beneficial tea is taken with me to all corners of the globe if need be. It's become a necessary ritual. I'm delighted to add that even Qantas serve it in economy on long haul flights, much to my relief, but I still take a good supply 'just in case'! Also packed were a change of unmentionables, warm sox, a book, mobile phone and charger, etc. The latter was to prove essential a little later down the track.
That small stomach 'issue' gets pushed briskly to one side as there is no use dwelling on it. It's insignificant, as is the painful shoulder. (Apart from the two bad tears in the rotator cuff from playing tennis, another spur has grown and that operation will just have to wait for now.) So too both hips need replacing, as I can't sit normally for long in the car or chair without stretching and fidgeting. I'm soon in agony. Very inconvenient at times! There are far worse off people in this world than my silly problems, so it puts things into perspective - most of the time! I'm told I have cataracts in both eyes which aren't serious as yet. At this rate I'll end up like something resembling the bionic woman! But one step at a time.
So the day arrived. I wandered on time next door, as the remote garage door was lifting for my dear neighbour to drive me to the private hospital, not a long way from home. She has retired at a perfect time. We can help each other as much as necessary.
Being dropped off in plenty of time, things soon began to happen and I was included onto the conveyor belt of patients who were to have a variety of things cut or taken out, altered, rearranged or removed altogether.
There was a specific 'department' for 'my little issue' and into that I proceeded. Name, date of birth, past history and a huge list of pre-requisites were given several times over and red identification tags attached. Oh yes, I needed the red ones for specific identification. One to right ankle and one to right wrist. This was because I was foolish enough not wanting to end up in the river running through the center of Melbourne, so turned too suddenly up a path, consequently falling off my bike and breaking an ankle, leg bone, severing a ligament or two also. When I do something, I do it properly! The handlebars folded so quickly that the bike landed on top of me. So they added a metal plate and four screws to the outside of my ankle. At least I was clever enough to choose the left leg and able to drive the car not too long afterwards with a boot - thus regaining a certain amount of independence, although needing to take crutches with me for far too long. These proved a cumbersome nuisance, but at least I was mobile. The operating theater staff needed to be reminded of such hazards! I do too, as when the screws protruding slightly, hit something, I go up the wall and down the other side.
Then they needed to know if I had or were suffering from this, that or the other. I played safe and said no to everything - being healthy and eating my greens that is. The many consequences of smoking have never appealed to me anyway. Blood pressure, temperature and heart were all checked several times to make sure I wasn't going to die at an inappropriate time during the operation. They take particular care these days to cover their backs so to speak, to avoid being sued. I was even given a pair of socks covered in 'pimples' so I didn't slip on any floors later in the ward. But I have to get there first.
Right on time, I was the first for the afternoon to be carved up. I enjoyed the young men taking charge as they wheeled my bed down corridors, around sharp bends, into the lift, then along more corridors. To them I was just another candidate heading for the operating theater. Once the bend was so tight, they bumped me into a door, which resulted in me giving the culprit a black mark for his driving efforts! At one stage we passed some blessed fresh air infiltrating the constant temperature air-conditioning, when passing between the old and new building. I breathed deeply as if it was my last. I could now see why they did away with the very easy accessible car park to build an enormous new section to the hospital. It was certainly being used to capacity, as the conveyor belt moved on, at frightening speed.
The very pleasant anaesthetist visited me before the little drama in the operating theater got underway - giving me a rundown of proceedings. I'd had it in my mind to ask for an extra hour or two's deep sleep as I knew it would be my last for a very long time. Not a chance! He grinned but stuck to protocol, much to my disgust. He will do what he has to do and that's my lot. Well, it was a good try anyway and as the operation would be less than an hour's duration, I didn't have a hope in hell for a moment longer. I sighed pleasantly and smiled at him graciously in acceptance. After all, I had no choice.
Within the operating theatre where several men gathered, huge lights glared down, but thankfully not switched on. The equipment these days was a huge improvement from when I was five years old and tore my right knee open as I slipped and fell onto some crazy paving propped up against a wall, my father was using to build a terrace onto the back of the house. I even declared that scar on my first British passport.
For a brief time you can't help feeling the center of attention. Then the needles went into my arm and my vision of those lights became blurred.
I woke up in a long recovery ward of about a dozen or more beds all in a row each side of the room. Special nurses were allotted to look after you and a drip was attached to my left arm, the right was regularly being squeezed and pummeled while the blood pressure was registering on the monitor behind the bed. I learned to read those monitors while watching the ones opposite for so long. For some unknown reason, many beds were wheeled in and out of position, while mine remained stationary. After a reasonable recovery period, the patients were wheeled to various wards where a vacancy existed if they were staying a night or longer. As I was to stay in for the night, I asked for a private room if one was available. Perhaps that was my biggest mistake. It took six long hours before my bed was finally moved to a ward and I was only sharing with one other lady, far younger than myself, but very pleasant.
In the meantime, while thinking each time an orderly or man dressed in blue who moved the beds around approached, I waited with baited breath to see if it was mine. I wasn't that lucky. The nurses came and went as a new shift took charge. They were polite and efficient and that recovery room must have seen many people that day. For example, the space next to me was changed with four different patients, as were the ones opposite. Men and women came and went - but I stopped put! At one time the staff gave up hope for me after phoning the appropriate person 'upstairs' to move me to a room and so just smiled.
'I'm about to turn to stone,' I said to a passing nurse, trying to keep a stiff upper lip.
More smiles. My derriere was aching, so too my hips. After hours being cooped up, knowing this wasn't for me, I even thought of jumping ship. But the bars prevented that. What now, and how can I relieve the hip pain. I was in agony, apart from the rest of me?
I smiled sweetly and begged to walk to the little girl's room a good and wonderful fifteen meters away. It would definitely relieve the hips and the other bit would hopefully have blood circulating after feeling dead for some time on the hard bed. Oh to be home again!
God bless that nurse who agreed to accompany me and it was sheer joy to walk away from that hard bed for a while - for some form, any form of circulation to return. Alas, it was all too brief and back to it I returned very reluctantly.
Eventually a little food arrived in the form of a sandwich, a few dry biscuits in the usual 'Fort Knox' cellophane wrapper and same for an inviting piece of cheese. I devoured the lot after I finally worked out how to open the biscuit wrapper. Well at least it took my mind off my agony for a while. A piece of cellophane was torn-off thus becoming extremely static, much to my amusement. It would not detach itself from the end of my finger, and no manner of shaking, flicking or jiggling would remove it. This gave me the giggles and I held my finger up to a passing nurse for her to see. Again, it stuck to her finger, refusing to budge, but eventually detached itself after I became somewhat forceful.
After the bed next to me had been removed with its occupant to a ward at least four times from men and ladies having had similar operations from a specific 'department' of the body, and the ones opposite several times, mercifully at last after a little muttering from a young man in blue about those people 'upstairs' needing a good kick up the ........, it was time for me to go hence to yonder place. At two I arrived in the recovery room and as I thankfully vacated that particular room, the clock above said 8.03pm.
Six hours later, I was at last on the move. It seemed to take forever down more corridors to eventually arrive in the ward.
Unfortunately I'd missed a decent supper, so asked the young girl on duty for a little food if at all possible. It duly arrived - but not sweet potato soup to start with, or the roast beef with shiraz sauce served with vegetables, nor the chicken chasseur served with rice. An Italian style mixed bean and veggie hotpot with risoni was also on the mains section of the menu. For dessert there appeared a delightful choice of fruit yoghurt, apricot crumble with custard, ice cream, custard, and jelly. Then there were juices or a beverage to chose from. Alas, this wasn't to be this evening. I found this out later when given a menu to choose from, for lunch the next day.
By this time, I'd made up my mind I wasn't leaving until I'd had a meal which I didn't have to cook myself. Years ago I'd vowed this when I had a large screw taken out of my leg at the same hospital - joking to the physician I'd be on the tennis court the next morning. It didn't go down too well after he cocked his head briefly with his eyebrows knitting together, so I gave up on that little joke, but missed out on a meal because they saw fit to kick me out beforehand.
I was brought a pleasant and freshly made variety of sandwich triangles, lemon jelly, juice and tea instead. My heart sank. It did taste good though after such a frustrating long wait.
I soon realized how much firmer hospital beds could be. Within no time, my hips were giving me grief, but at least I had a nice room and a television all to myself. I duly plugged my smart phone in behind the bed, tested the press button complex attached to a pillow, observing what all the buttons were for and settled in for the night - with Peppermint tea at the ready of course, 'just in case!' It soon became very useful indeed.
Until late there was constant checking of pulse, temperature and blood pressure. In the recovery room they plug you in to the monitor, so it can be done regularly without a nurse to watch over you every moment. The latest equipment saves times and appears very efficient. They stick some metal gadget into your ear briefly though, to take your temperature. All so different 'these days'. No more trying to answer questions with a piece of glass hanging out of your mouth, always trying desperately to prevent it from falling out. Under the tongue it must stay and for what seems like forever. Those days have long gone. The monitors behind each bed in the recovery ward after the new occupant moves in, are very informative. A yellow light goes on when the bed is removed, so you can't escape or bail out, even if you wanted to. It gives the staff all the necessary information and the new building must have cost a whole heap of money I reckoned, while taking in the very latest in technology and equipment.
That night I had the luxury of not one, but two proper sleeping tablets with two pain killers for good measure. Oh great I thought! Blessed sleep at last. Wrong! The usual four hours were enjoyed at most, before voices were heard from the nurse and patient at 3.15am in the adjoining bed behind the curtain. That was my lot.
I can't help thinking how different it was many years ago when quietness and hushed voices were observed. Lights were dimmed and bossy matrons in crisp starched uniforms scuttled about the wards keeping a close eye on the proceedings - or lack of them. Even after having a baby, the afternoon nap was strictly observed, whether you embraced it or not.
One has to move with the times and accept how things work these days. I'm wondering what the future will behold. The world has come a long way in a very short time. It's so easy to sink into lethargic beliefs from the past and rebel with what is thrown at you now. Being born after the war, I've been fortunate enough to remember steam trains, bread delivered by horse and cart and my poor mother washing clothes without a modern machine. No television, no frig; only a man delivering a huge block of ice on his shoulder at regular intervals and the 'little room' facilities weren't exactly the Ritz hotel either.
I shared a spotlessly clean large bathroom, shower and all the accompaniments necessary for my all too brief hospital stay - it's been memorable at least.
The best news I had concluding this latest and rare visit, was that there would be no further problems with this 'department'. Looking very smart and for once, somewhat animated which made me smile, the surgeon personally delivered the news at 10am the day after the operation, and I couldn't have felt happier, being close to tears. I think a little of my emotions rubbed off on him too.
'See you in two weeks,' he waved, striding out of my room. The lady next door had already left. I smiled after him thinking he had done his job well. At least only time will tell, but I was convinced. It takes skill, perseverance and dedication to do what he does.
The next day I enjoyed hearing the birds chirping in the park, morning sun glancing off dewy grass. I sniffed deeply at some late-flowering roses before reaching home after the usual morning walk. It was always good to be home again. My own bed felt deliciously comfortable.
That night I discovered three silver 'nipple' type square bits of tape still stuck to my chest, looking a bit like one side of a press stud. One under the left breast. Hmm... I guess they want you to have a few momentos of your stay and here's me asking if I could wear a T-shirt under my white gown to protect my modesty! 'Everything off!' the nurse repeated. So I humbly obeyed. After all, it is necessary for the operating theatre staff to have complete access to your body. I soon realized they needed to monitor your heart rate etc., and can't have you croaking it on their watch.
The conveyor belt of patients will continue each day at the hospital, and there may be more visits on the horizon - but for now, it's all been worth it.
Thursday, 18 June 2015
Thursday, 28 May 2015
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.
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.
Thursday, 21 May 2015
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.
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.
Monday, 18 May 2015
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!'
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!'
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