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Now that would be a good trick to have done at the boys’ speech days. I imagined myself in the car park at their school, with all the other, rigid parents, suddenly taking a swig of whatever it was fire eaters used, and breathing fire over the rather ugly memorial sundial by the entrance doors. The headmaster would have thought twice about asking me in ‘for another little chat’ after that. And I thought I’d been a reasonably good and involved parent. I received no thanks either from staff or my own boys.
As I drifted in and out of sleep, I suddenly remembered one Friday evening being given an impossibly complicated drawing that one of them had conjured up for a soft toy design. A punk T-Rex dinosaur, and the casual request that I ‘help’ get it done by Monday. Which meant instead of spending the weekend getting the laundry done and relaxing in front of Strictly with a large gin, I had to scrabble about for fabric and various trimmings to get the blasted thing made. And I only got a B+. The unfairness of that still stung. Yes, perhaps the fire breathing would be some sort of revenge.
I jerked awake with a start, realising I had been in the middle of a muddled dream about breathing fire over the boys’ teacher, Mr Ingham, with his irritating moustache and sneering face, while my beautiful toy dinosaur roared its approval.
The car had stopped.
‘Are we there yet?’ I asked.
Beside me Evelyn and Diana were still asleep, both of them snoring, and in the front Raphaël was looking at a map on his phone.
‘Almost there,’ Genova said, ‘just a slight detour.’
Where to, I thought, Spain?
‘There is a road closure ahead, so we are going to take a shortcut,’ she explained.
Really, I had to admire her courage and optimism. And then I wondered if all her generation were like that? What sort of sixty-year-old would Genova turn out to be? I bet she wouldn’t worry about being ignored or side-lined as she got older. Put up with bad service or rudeness in shops or pick through the rails of dull clothes on offer to the older woman. And from now on nor would I.
I decided in a moment of clarity that she might be one or two generations down from me, but I was going to learn from her example. Not when it came to driving, obviously. I was going to be more – what was the word – positive. I liked the thought of that. After all I had a lot of things that I could still appreciate. My health, a decent home, although it needed a fair bit of decorating if I thought about it.
Perhaps when I got back, I would even dismantle the boys’ bedrooms, which hadn’t really changed since they had left home. After all, they had homes of their own now. I would also riddle through all the rubbish they had left behind. Things that apparently they neither wanted nor needed but which I couldn’t possibly throw away. Old sports stuff, a nearly complete collection of some football magazine, sticker albums and a thick wad of duplicate swaps. And then there was my own collection of predictable clothes, that needed a good rethink too.
I stared out of the car window into the darkness that was just starting to lighten with the arrival of the dawn and tried to imagine it. I had a delightful mental image of me and Eddy trundling our cases into Heathrow, ready to board a flight to Boston where we would pick up our Ford Juggernaut and start our road trip around New England. He would probably be looking rather confused, not used to us doing this sort of thing, but I would reassure him with the thoroughness of my research, and I would have a carefully packed plastic folder containing all our documents and absolutely nothing would go wrong.
We made our way up a steep hillside and then back down again, and suddenly in front of us was the glint of the sea and the lights of a town.
‘We’re here,’ Raphaël said, and at the sound of his voice, Diana jerked awake, the hair on one side of her head squashed flat by the dog blanket.
‘I think I nodded off for a moment,’ she said.
‘You’ve been driving the pigs to market for two hours,’ I muttered, and Diana reached across Evelyn and slapped me on the head.
‘This is Villa San Giovanni, and just a bit further is Villa San Giovanni Imbarchi, where the ferry leaves. It will take you to Messina. Ah look, there is a ferry in at the moment. Caronte and Tourist, I was right. And see, that’s where the cars are lining up to board. How exciting, I wish I was coming with you,’ Genova said. ‘I will leave you by the ticket office, and then I will find Carolina, and she will make me coffee.’
Coffee. What a brilliant idea.
21
We said our goodbyes, and many thank yous to Genova and then the four of us boarded the ferry, which left exactly on time at five twenty that morning just as the dawn was breaking for what looked like a glorious day.
The early morning air was crisp and clear on our faces as we boarded the ship and made our way inside the boat to a very nice cafe area where we had some unbelievably good cannoli and coffee, which raised all our spirits.
‘Oh my God, I can’t believe we are still alive and not in some Italian hospital somewhere in traction,’ I said.
‘I was in hospital in Rome once, with appendicitis,’ Evelyn said, ‘and there were nuns. They were very efficient, but I was terrified of them.’
‘Do you think we will find the Avanti,’ Diana said, looking worried.
‘It’s a blooming great ocean liner, of course we will,’ I replied. ‘It can’t exactly hide behind the other boats, and if we can’t, well we will ask someone.’
Raphaël yawned and passed a hand over his stubble.
‘I need a sleep,’ he said, ‘it’s been an exciting night.’
‘Thank you for everything,’ Diana said, ‘for staying behind in Pompeii. I don’t know what we would have done without you.’
‘My pleasure,’ he said with one of his dimpled smiles.
