CHAPTER 17
Jacky arrived at Heathrow at the start of August, but we weren’t there with the car as she had instructed us, in very clear terms, that she knew exactly what airport parking cost, and besides, she was getting a ‘limo’, etc. In real terms, she booked a private taxi, so on the day of her arrival, Mary and I took a National Express coach to Terminal 2, settling down with the obligatory expensive coffee while we awaited a flight delayed by headwinds.

Mary was making a couple of notes on some scrap paper, which she showed to me once complete.

“Another hour, and the parking fees in the Short Term will exceed what she’s paying for the taxi. Tell me how that is proportionate”

“Moot, now. Anyway, it’s down”

“About time. My backside’s gone to sleep”

“Ah—over there. That’s her driver, I think. I’ll go and have a chat”

I walked over to the man with a very neat shirt and tie holding a small sign reading ‘Jacky Bennings’.

“Excuse me, but are you waiting for the Toronto flight?”

“Yes, Miss. Got a pick-up”

“If it’s the Jacky we’re waiting for, she’s going back to ours. We’re due to ride with her”

He laughed, clearly a genuine man.

“You’ll be more reliable than satnav, then! You got any luggage?”

“No. Just popped down by train and tube. Airport parking fees, oh dear”

Another grin.

“Yeah. We’re based here, so we have our own yard; our fees would have to double if we had to fork out for parking. Where are you sitting?”

“Over there in the coffee place”

“Go and relax, then. Be a while before they’re through; I’ll bring her across”

“Thanks, mate”

“No worries, love”

I explained that to Mary once bum was back on seat, and tried to get back into the Metro sudoku, but I was stuck, something I hated.

“Ellie—there she is”

She almost pushed her luggage trolley past the driver, before taking a step back for another look at his sign, followed by a laugh, mimed sleepiness, and a handshake. Mary and I arranged ourselves in suitably louche postures as he led her across, and I drawled out, “And what time do you call this, young lady?”

I couldn’t keep it up, of course, and our hugs became very emotional, our driver suggesting that he had just been provided with all the evidence of bona fides he could have asked for.
His cab turned out to be a big one, with seats facing each other in the back, rather than a simple saloon or estate, and it even had a privacy screen between passengers and driver. Way beyond my level of luxury, but I didn’t care, and Mary pointed out that her arse preferred the car’s seats to the horrible hard things in our ‘waiting room’.

“This still doesn’t feel real, guys”

“Jet lag?”

“Not that. I mean, I’m supposed to be in England but it’s not raining”

“Oh dear… Anyway, Jerome not free?”

“Um…”

I had a sinking feeling, but she obviously caught my expression before it had fully formed, and waved it away.

“Not that, Ellie. It was his choice, and, well, I think he was right. Loads of reasons, and they do make sense”

“Such as?”

“First was that he’d be a bit out of place, this being a me trip, a my friends trip. Secondly, well, he said he didn’t really know me yet, nor me him. We hadn’t had time to discover each other’s tripwires”

“Makes you sound like an unexploded bomb”

“Sort of. What he said, really, was that if he was staying at my place in Toronto, or me at his, and one of us triggered the other, loads of baggage, both of us, ey? Anyhoo, we do that, we can always ring up the next day, meet for a coffee, sort it out. Trip like this, it’s a pressure cooker. No time-outs. He wants us to sort our boundaries, his words this, before we lock ourselves into them”

I was impressed, to say the least, and it did make sense. Mary and I had had a disastrous trip in our early days, a typical cheap week on a Spanish island, and the all-night noise and Brit drunks everywhere had nearly broken our marriage before it had really got going. I’d wanted sea and birds; I’d given her gammon and booze. Fortunately, it was only a week.

Mary’s comment was an arch, “You sure you have a man there? Sounds far too sensible”

“Oh, well, at the risk of giving out TMI, oh yes, I am VERY sure”

That set us all chuckling as the driver negotiated the short but horrible bit of the M25 until we could finally escape onto the M40 for Booker.

“This that road Val was talking about, Ellie? Vicar of Dibley?”

“Exactly that road, girl. Not that far from us, in fact. We’ll take you out there if you want”

“I want, but not today. I know I gotta do the staying awake thing, but we got a pub for tonight?”

“We’ve got stuff in at home, if you’d prefer”

“I’d fall asleep at yours. And food?”

Mary took over.

“We have a pub not far from us, and they do food, but it’s very up and down. If we grab a bus into town, there’s a lot more choice. Ellie? What about the Mad Squirrel?”

That made sense.

“It’s an odd place, Jacky. Does a really wide range of---shit, it will sound like that place in Albany. Anyway, lots of different beers, slightly upmarket pub food, basic décor but comfy, and sometimes live music. Ad if it doesn’t suit, there are other pubs, plus eateries, all walkable”

Mary giggled.

“Or we could just do the traditional English thing, on an evening like this”

“Go on, tell me!”

“Oh, go to the supermarket, buy some cans of crap lager, take off our shirts and drink the stuff sitting on one of the benches outside All Saints, shouting at random strangers”

Jacky was sanguine.

“I think I’ll give that one a hard pass, girl”

I added the slightly relevant observation that our own local pub was just ‘The Squirrel’, with no mental health additions, and then the driver flipped open the screen.

“Talk me in, love? Save trusting satnav, like I said”

I talked him through the wall of ‘See The Beautiful Chilterns From a Hotel on a Motorway With an Attached Maccy D’s’ places until we were onto the nicer streets, and then to our front door, where we clubbed together to give him a decent tip, which still left us in pocket compared to notional parking fees. Larry was in his driveway washing his new Volvo for about the millionth time, so Mary and I called a hello.

“Who’s this, Mary? Looks familiar. Sorry, love; talking about you, bit rude”

“Jacky, Ellie’s friend from Canada. You’ve seen her photo”

“Right! Hi, Jacky. How was the flight?”

“Not as bad as the one back from Australia, but, well, too long”

Mary was opening our front door, calling back to Larry, “Just putting the kettle on, if you fancy a cuppa”

“That would be lovely, but I’ve still got stuff to do indoors. Thelma’s due back in a bit with the big shop, so I’ve been cleaning the freezer”

“Another time, then. We’re going into town for a meal later, so don’t work too hard”

I showed Jacky to her room as Mary did the business with hot water, and when we got back down, a pot and the other necessaries were waiting in the living room.

“There’s hot water left if you’d prefer coffee, Jacky. We use a cafetière”

“What our idiot neighbours call a French press?”

“Sounds about right”

“I’ll stick with the tea, ey? I need to stay awake, but not that awake”

We sipped, and relaxed, and then Jacky pointed towards the front door.

“I know, elephant in the room thing, but your neighbour seemed relaxed about you, Ellie. Looked good to me”

Mary took the lead.

“His wife’s a sharp woman, or right nosy cow, depending on how you meet her. She’d worked out what Ellie was thinking”

“Ah”

“Oh, and Larry, he was doing his neighbourhood watch thing. Ellie hadn’t closed the bedroom curtains fully, and, well she had the lights on and her, er, tits out”

“Oh heck!”

“Soooooo-----they’ve had some advance warning. Both being very good. Now, shall we get this tea down us, and then get rolling? Sorry to be pushy, but I’d rather get Jacky here back while she’s still sort of human. And it is a warm night, so I am going to change first”

I had a new sundress, so thought I’d give my girls a bit of vitamin D time, with the usual thin cardy stuffed in the top of a newer, larger handbag. Mary saw my choice, pulling out one of her own, and when Jacky joined us, she was in shorts and T-shirt. The bus was on time, and Jacky’s eyes were everywhere.

“So quaint!”

Right. Yeah. Next.

It turned out, being who she was, that she had a compact camera with her, so we took a few shots of the older stuff in the semi-pedestrian town centre, including All Saints, which is actually an impressive church, until she pointed at an empty bench with a carrier bag filled with empty beer cans on the ground beside it.

“That for us, Mary? No shirts, you said, and as Ellie’s already been there, ey?”

Mary just shook her head, pointing backwards with a thumb.

“In there, woman. Behave yourself or I’ll give you detention”