CHAPTER 22
“You want to eat today?”

I looked at the others, got two nods, and asked, “Mag Ik mosselen en frites hebben?”

We were in Belgium, after all; start as you mean to go on, woman.

Dirk nodded.

“Mary? Jacky?”

Mary looked at me, grinned, and said, “Uiysmijters?”

“Of course. How do you want your eggs?”

“Sunny side up?”

“Ham or turkey ham?”

“Proper ham, yes”

“Jacky?

“Well, I have no idea at all what they have ordered, because I think they are being deliberately awkward”

Dirk nodded, once again, straight-faced.

“I believe yes, they are taking the piss. Mary has ordered fried eggs and ham on bread, Ellie mussels and fries. Chips. We can offer you other things, such as sandwiches, salads, omelettes, and we have a special on paling”

“Sorry?”

“Long fish… Eel. Yes, eel”

“Er, no. Could I try what Mary is having? And, well, Mary? Want to split a side of fries?”

Off he went with our order, and Jacky turned back to me.

“Teasing woman… What was all that with the beer?”

I sipped my coffee, then did my best.

“Going to steal Mary’s teacher head for a few. Now, the Beer Bible starts with the opening of John’s gospel, ‘In the beginning was the wort’”

Both women said “Word”, and I shook my head.

“Nope. Brewing starts with the wort, which is the mix of stuff that goes into the brewing vessel. Its original gravity, OG, how much denser it is than plain water, determines what tax rate applies. OG used to be on ale pumps, but it’s now usually ABV, alcohol by volume. Old topers will still ask about OG, and, to be honest, it’s easy to get from OG to ABV. An OG of one thousand and thirty-eight produces a beer of three point eight percent ABV, one of ten fifty gives five percent, a strong ale, and so on”

“So what was the joke?”

“First time I came here, I was cycling from Calais up to Hook of Holland, doing the tourist thing as I went. Had a beer here for lunch, a half litre, liked it, had a second. Then, and only then, checked the strength. The beer was Brugse Tripel. Nine bloody percent”

I waited for their mouths to close before I added the rest of the background.

“Right, British extra strong ale, a barley wine, around seven ABV. German white wine, around eight to ten ABV. French or Aussie white wine, about eleven or twelve. Red wines, around thirteen. Should tell you how strong tripel is. Those other two, shit, they’re up around twelve”

Mary was laughing, Jacky shaking her head, so I carried on.

“They brew beer from all sorts og=f grains here, as well as fruit. There’s one they add Scotch to, and another where the yeast they use is just what happens to be in the air in the brewery, so read the label or the menu first, okay?”

Jacky asked, “So, no asking for Moulson’s or Bud here?”

“Not only if you want to be laughed at”

She shook her head, then asked a question out of the blue.

“How did you two meet? Was it through cycling?”

Mary laughed happily.

“No, it was on the bus to work. I got on the same bus after Ellie—”

“I didn’t have anywhere to lock my bike in the old place- she got on two stops after me”

“Yeah, but you got off before my school, Anyway, before I was interrupted, we were in the nod-good-morning stage for months, and then there was a book fair. Hang on; here’s our food”

Dirk efficiently set it all out, asked if we wanted anything else after adding a jug of iced water, and then left us to things.

“Where was I? Book fair. Basically just a lot of stalls selling second-hand books, some of them specialists, some obviously just house-clearance stuff. Anyway, there I was, trying to teach Richard III in English while giving the context, so I’m looking for stuff on the Wars of the Roses, and Ellie, as predictable as ever, I now realise, was after cycling and bird books, and it was an ‘Oh, hello! You get my bus’ moment. We ended up chatting, introductions, joint hunt for the right books, and then, well, he… sorry. Ellie was always so fit, which she won’t be if she puts any more mayonnaise on her chips, so I suggested a coffee”

“I’m in Belgium, and this is how they eat chips. Anyway, we found a place to sit, and she teased me that one of my book titles was a bit too obvious: ‘A Bike Ride’, by Ann Mustoe”

“Yes, so… she tells me what it’s about, and Mustoe’s a teacher, retired, sets out to ride in Europe. No experience, no plans, ends up going right round the world. Gets home, thinks ‘I enjoyed that’, goes off to do it again in the other direction. So I tell Ellie I’m a teacher, but”

“That was the start of everything, Jacky, so we go out to the book fair after our coffee, and then we sort of arrange to go OUT out at the weekend”

“You mean I asked you”

“Yes, you did. I had issues, bloody obvious ones now, in hindsight. One of the reasons I ride, why I started”

Jacky was locked on, but still managing to devour her ham and eggs, as was Mary, and in between slurping shellfish from shells, I tried to explain.

“People cycle for all sorts of reasons. Mary met some properly in York. Terry and Karen, for example, they’re environmentalists, real hand-knitted lentil shoes stuff. So’s Ginny”

“She’s barking mad, Ellie”

“Not really, more sort of at an angle to other people’s reality. I mean, she’s vegetarian, but not a vegan, and when I asked ‘why not?’, she pointed to her saddle, a Brooks leather job, then simply played four trumps, as she put it. Chocolate, clotted cream, ale and frozen yoghurt”

Jacky asked, “Why ale?”, and I simply answered, “Fish swim bladders, and not while we’re eating”

The chips were lovely, the mussels tender, and I took a few moments before I started again.

“Judy, though; she’s mad. Say to me, ‘Ride London to Edinburgh and back’, and I’d say yeah, I’ll spend a couple of weeks, see some sights, but when they say, ‘Against the clock’, I shake my head. Judy just goes ‘Cool!’ and goes for it. I believe she actually enjoys the challenge”

More food.

“Thing is, I suspect she started out at the same place, emotionally, as me, or at least a similar one. Don’t think her marriage was a great one. That’s the thing about solo cycling long distance: you get time to think, then you end up going all zen, meditation style stuff. Ginny has friends, women like me, and two or three of them are distance riders for exactly those reasons. One of them is a climber, and she says that’s the entire opposite. When you’re trying not to hit the ground and go splat, that’s all you can think about. Keeps the demons away for a while”

Jacky reached out for my hand.

“Didn’t really work for you, did it?”

“Yeah, well. This has been my demon since I got potty trained. Did my best, and I will keep apologising to you, Mary, but I tried. Just didn’t have the strength”

Mary told me to put my fork down so she could take my other hand.

“You were strong enough to come home, love, so shut up. Now, I have a plan, and it involves decadence”

Jacky sat up straighter.

“Debauchery?”

“No, not quite. Just decadence. Find a chocolate shop. Buy chocolates. Book seats on canal tour boat. Eat chocolates. Come back here later for a proper meal and beer after we have dressed a bit sharper”

That was our afternoon, after a walk around the Markt under the incredibly tall bell and church towers, till we found a shop selling non-sexual choccies, as well as one that sorted me a rather smarter pair of shoes, still not heels.

Brugge’s old town is almost completely surrounded by canals, others threading the centre, and as there are no high rise buildings anywhere, the city is dominated by the three immense towers of the Lady Church, the Bell Tower and the Holy Saviors Cathedral, visible from a very long distance across the flat coastal plain, as I had found out that first time, for they took forever to actually get to. We sat in a long, low waterbus thing, watching lovely old buildings as we glided gently past, eating our chocs and not needing that zen meditation state I had described.

I had brought a new dress, one I had loved on sight, and that had been another moment of wonder, for I had been able to try it on in the shop rather than as had been the case with my earlier, secret, purchases. Not only that, Mary had come along to vet it, which I knew full well was yet another part of her beating her doubts into acceptance. Before we finished changing, Mary took me in her arms.

“Ellie, I know you heard me hesitate. I saw it in your eyes, So please, it wasn’t, well, what it was, it was that I was talking about Harry, and memories, and it was difficult, keeping the pronouns right”

I kissed her, as seemed appropriate, and then we finished dressing, Mary actually putting stuff on my face for once, which felt strange.

Both of the others were in heels, which was interesting on the cobbles, but we made it back to the Groote Markt without incident, until we were sitting back at our first restaurant, where a wonderful seafood meal was slightly spoiled by not one, not two but three separate groups of men who made enquiries as to our desire for their company.

Jacky sighed after the third lot had gone.

“I wish I could, you know, just pull Jay out of my pocket at times like these”

Totally deadpan, my wife replied, “Yes indeed, just, you know, blow him up when needed”

I decided to blame the tripel she was trying.