The Woman Who Kept Everything Page 19
Yet Gloria knew that every time someone in their age group ‘took ill’ or had a fall or didn’t turn up on holiday, they all realised that, hey, there but for the grace of God go I. That final curtain call could happen at any time, to any one of them. Luckily, it hadn’t happened to Freda on this holiday. Nor to any of her other new-found friends. Yet.
It was indeed a sad, sobering thought. However, it tightened Gloria’s resolve to make sure her final days – whether she had a few months or many years – would be as fulfilled as possible.
* * *
On the last day of their friends’ holidays in Eastbourne, and as they were struggling up the steps into the coach for their journeys back home, Gloria and her entourage were standing on the pavement, waving them off.
‘The key to all this, like Florence once said, is to just keep taking small steps forward. It gets you through life. And you do always need to have summat exciting to look forward to. Like holidays in Eastbourne!’ Gloria said brightly.
‘Yeah, me and Marv are with you on that score,’ agreed Jocelyn, linking arms with her oldest and best friend.
The coach revved its engine.
‘See youse all next year, if any of us make it. Ha, ha!’ yelled Gloria.
‘Yay, Gloria!’ they all shouted back, waving.
‘It’s a date, love!’ Florence grinned, as she boarded with Vittori.
‘See you then!’ said Dot, waving madly.
‘I’ll be here every year, while I can,’ Joe enthused, giving Gloria, then Jocelyn, a hug, just before he boarded the coach.
Gloria, Tilsbury, Jocelyn and Marvin felt bereft as they carried on waving until the coach was out of sight. They were treating themselves and staying on in the hotel in Eastbourne until the end of the week.
But already it didn’t feel the same without everybody else.
Chapter 51
Gloria, Jocelyn, Tilsbury and Marvin sat in their canvas chairs, all in a row, along the edge of the sea with their toes in the cold turquoise water. Marvin and Tilsbury had a little hip flask each of liquor, which they were sipping. Gloria and Jocelyn both had tea, in polystyrene cups from the kiosk up top, although Gloria could smell something slightly stronger than teabags in Jocelyn’s.
‘S’unbelievable, ain’t it, really,’ said Gloria. ‘All this for us to enjoy!’ she said, plonking her cup in the shingle and stretching her tanned arms wide. Today was a very civil twenty-one degrees and a light wind was blowing across the sea, causing sparkling ripples. A lone seagull soared overhead.
‘It is, Glor. Bloody unbelievable. But bloody marvellous, too, thanks to you and Tils,’ admitted Marvin. ‘Well, you know that me, Tils and Lily used to travel a lot with Father, all over India, back in the day. But once we all settled down back here we didn’t do it no more. Never went anywhere exotic. Didn’t really even do holidays apart from a few days here and there at Great Yarmouth or whatever. And I never truly thought owt could ever be as nice as this holiday, here, with all you rabble. Even more amazin’ is that there’s actually stuff to look forward to now, at our time of life. You and Tils have opened our eyes to that, Glor. I hope Freda’s gonna be all right, though. She didn’t look too well, did she, even though we were told she’s gonna be all right now?’
‘I think she’ll be okay. She’s lucky she’s got a loving family. Not everyone has. Wake Tils up, would you, Marv. What’s up with him these days? Or what’s he got in that hip flask? Can’t have him kippin’ like this all the ruddy time. And it’s sacrilegious on a lovely day like today!’
‘He’s obviously gettin’ too comfortable with all this marriage malarkey, Glor! Or you’ve been keepin’ him up all night!’ Jocelyn laughed.
‘I’ll wake the git,’ said Marvin, shoving Tilsbury.
But it didn’t waken him. So Marvin shoved him hard enough that his chair overturned and deposited Tilsbury into the chilly sea. Well that woke him.
‘Chuffin’ hell, guys!’ he cried, jumping up, splashing about soaked.
He scrunched his eyes up, a mischievous grin suddenly spreading from ear to ear. ‘Right …!’
He lurched forward, pushing them all off their chairs, one by one, including Gloria, tipping them straight into the sea. Each one of them squealed equally with delight as well as shock, as their relaxed, yet fully clothed bodies hit the icy water.
‘Tilsbury! Stop!’ Jocelyn yelled.
Gloria was giggling, uncontrollably. She knew, first-hand, just how cold the sea could be, even in the summer. She remembered their amazing, crazy swim in the North Sea many months ago.
‘Crazy effin’ bastard!’ yelped Marvin, swinging a light-hearted punch at him.
‘What?’ said Tilsbury. ‘I’m living life, like I dunno what tomorrow’s gonna bring, you oaf. Well, that’s what me new wife keeps tellin’ me to do. So get yer lardy arse into this sea right now, bruv! We’re swimming to France!’
Acknowledgments
The art of writing takes years of practice, diligence and a few knock-backs. It is a solitary pursuit of excellence and without its supporting cast, who play a major role in our lives, most writers would never realise their dreams of success.
So my thanks go to my editor, the terrific Katie Loughnane, for her upbeat support and dedication, and to all her fantastic colleagues at Avon, HarperCollins.
My thanks also go to my husband Chris, for cups of tea at 4am and his unerring optimism.
About the Author
JANE GILLEY was born in Nottingham and now lives on the beautiful island of Jersey with her husband, a rabbit and a Senegal parrot.
Following a career in Interior Design, and after writing six children’s books, Jane now writes adult books full-time.
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