CHAPTER 13
Mary’s bike wasn’t actually that bad, with proper racks and suitable panniers. Before she’d got the car, a lot of her shopping had been done by bike, so she was also used to riding fully-loaded. We fitted what we needed onto our steeds, the heavier stuff on mine, which made me smile, and rode off for the station.

Our first leg was down to Marylebone, which was the one bit I was worried about. Rather than scare my wife out of most of her remaining years, I avoided the direct route to Kings Cross by taking a devious one through the back streets to the South of Marylebone and Euston Roads, until we were able to cross back to that station as pedestrians. We were in plenty of time, but the cycle storage was at the front end of the train, what felt like half a mile away. We made it in time, though, dumping some baggage before securing the bikes, then dropped ourselves into the two seats permanently reserved at that end of Carriage A. I knew the routine very well.

The onboard shop was two carriages away, which was why we had packed a decent lunch of our own. The only thing extra the train crew would get out of me would be the price of a coffee from the trolley.

We were off on time, soon up to speed as we headed north. Hatfield and Peterborough were soon behind us, and then the odd cluster of churches that mark Doncaster.

“Always think that one looks like a secret spaceship, love. Not far now, anyway”

I was now looking for familiar landmarks, such as the old mill tower on the way out to Thorpe Arch, and then we were slowing.

“On the right; that’s one of the day rides, the planets, and that supermarket is just off the show site. Ride out there once we’re pitched”

A quick view of some of the more historic parts of the city, which is a bit meaningless given how ‘historic’ the whole place actually is, and then undercover in the station. I always felt a slight sense of panic that the train would bugger off before we could, but there were no hitches, and after checking our luggage we began the slow push to the exit and the pelican crossing that would mark the start of actual riding.

Walk across, settle into our saddle, then at the next pedestrian phase, set off up the very slight uphill, round the left-hander and down to the lights by Micklegate Bar for a right turn onto the undulating road to the Knavesmire. I slapped down my inner activist for Mary’s sake, slipping onto the shared-use path until we hit the bus lane that finally led us to the Knavesmire Road and that slight uphill kick as we arrived at the site entrance. I led the way round to the lightweight camping area, where we were finally free to lean our bikes against a bundle of lightweight barriers and start the business of erecting our home.

I almost sniggered at that, for it was pretty much all the erecting I was now capable of. The new tent had two poles for support, a third across the porch to keep the roof clear, and it went up in around five minutes; I was impressed. In with mats and sleeping bags, stow the luggage, lock bikes to barriers, and only then lift up my gaze to see who and what were there.

“Ellie!”

I was hit by a massive hug.

“Karen!”

She dropped her voice to a whisper, her mouth still close to my ear.

“No hiding any more, then? That the famous Mary?”

“Yes to both questions, love. Who’s with you?”

“Loads, woman. Jill couldn’t make it, though; her wife’s on weekend cover. And before you say anything, they’re joined at the hip as well as at the soul”

She paused, I waited, and she sighed.

“I spent best part of a week dreaming that one up, and it just flies straight past her. Bollocks!”

“Dad and lad?”

“Dad, lad and lad’s lass. Over at Tesco’s. Hang on---you Mary? I’m Karen. Got a question for you”

Mary walked over, looking a little puzzled as Karen waved her mobile.

“Hubby and offspring are over at Tesco; want anything? Save you having to push over that grass”

“Oh! That would be lovely. We’ve brought a load of stuff, but a two-pinter of milk and a loaf of basic white bread would be great”

I added a request for chocolate croissants, Karen dialled, passed the order, and closed the call before grinning at us once again.

“Some of those photos, Ellie! One hell of a tour, that”

I explained to my wife that I had uploaded a few choice ones to the online forum.

“Oh, and we had Sandy and Greg over a few months back. They were at White Mark. Winter camping”

“You do know she’s barking, don’t you?”

I couldn’t help my laughter.

“Almost the price of entry to this group, Karen. Anyway, Mary’s not used to longer distances, so we’ll be on the family ride rather than a Perm or the Kitching Challenge”

“Yeah, we’ll be the same. Keep it down to forty or so. But we will be doing the night thing, down the planets”

Mary picked up on that one.

“Second time you’ve mentioned planets, love. Explain?”

I saw a little twitch from Karen at the obvious word, but she was quickly onto her spiel.

“Old railway line cycle path. You start at the sun, then it’s scale size and distance models of the planets all the way out to Pluto”

“Pluto isn’t a planet”

“Splittist! Nine planets made he, and one sun to rule them all!”

I just looked at my wife.

“You did hear me suggest they’re all barking. Anyway, who else is here?”

“Dunno in total, but you saw the meet-up post. Site bar is on again, indy brewery stuff, so we’ll gather there for eight”

“Plenty of time to feed beforehand, then. Just need to go over and register”

Mary and I gathered our printed tickets and walked over to the admin tent to sort out the technical bits, and I bought a couple of metal badges. By the time we had finished our stroll around the facilities, the other Terry was at our tent with the requested groceries.

“You’re going to do it, aren’t you?”

“Do what?”

“I can see you’re intent”

“Outside tent, mate”

Mary put a hand to my mouth.

“Do what, whoever you are?”

“I’m Karen’s hubby. Terry. It’s a sort of tradition for her: new tent has to be christened by making a brew and a bacon sarnie. That’s what the bread’s for, isn’t it?”

She had to agree, and as he walked off with his own groceries, Mary suddenly grinned, decades falling off her.

“Come on, then! Show me how it’s done!”

Twenty minutes later, lying on our mats with opened sleeping bags draped over us, we lay on our fronts munching on bacon wrapped in white bread, a steaming mug in front of each of us.

“You’re very careful with that stove, love”

“Fire risk. It’s why I uncoupled the gas as soon as we finished cooking”

“They’re all okay with you, I see”

“Er, yeah. Karen had a friend who sort of led the way, if you see what I mean. Her niece is their son’s girlfriend”

“That’ll be the Jill you asked about, then. Someone like you”

“Yeah. Someone like me, and Sandy, and Jacky’s big sister, and Carly’s… Carly’s lost friend. Concentrates the mind, love, that last one”

“In what way? Fear”

“Blessings counting. I have been so very, very lucky”

“Lucky? You got dealt a shit hand in life and---”

“Mary, please. I’m still here. I’ve got a good job. I’ve got bloody good friends. I manage to pass as who I really am. I’ve… I’ve got you. Blessings; blessed as, as Carly would no doubt say. Too many of us end up like her friend, so I see myself as bloody well off. Anyway, changing the subject: you up for an all-nighter tomorrow?”

“What’s that mean?”

“Ride out somewhere, eat cake, come back with the dawn. Short night, especially up here. Probably about thirty miles, all told”

“And you want me to do twenty during the day? I’ll have to see how I’m feeling. Oh: we might have company in here first thing tomorrow”

“Sorry?”

“Another friend. She does a Perm every year; it’s who the croissants are for”

“Perm?”

“Timed ride, backed up by things like cashpoint receipts. She rides here overnight, crashes for a couple of hours, then rides home”

“I’m going to regret asking this, but where exactly is ‘home’ for her?”

“Ipswich”

“Fucking hell! Sorry, but, well, fucking hell!”

“On a fixed-wheel bike as well”

“This gets worse. I need more bacon”

She was smiling though, as we made our way to the beer tent after a solid meal of instant noodles cooked in tinned chilli con carne; at no point had I ever suggested our dining would be elegant.