Chapter 1
I should have known that I was too old to try to pull that dead stump. I wasn’t the young buck any longer, although it would have been hard to describe me as a buck in my youth. It was about the time of the third pull that I felt something was wrong, with my left arm and chest suddenly painful and my strength going, I fell onto my back and looked at the scudding spring clouds.
I could hear my son calling for me and was suddenly glad that my wife had passed away a year ago, the first time I was actually feeling good about that. At least she wouldn’t have the worry of burying me. I had discussed this very possibility with my two sons a couple of weeks ago.
They say that your life flashes before you as you die. I could tell them that they were wrong. The life that I saw in those last few minutes was the life that I had always hoped could have been mine.
“Michael! Dad! Where are you, there’s a call for you from the lottery office.”
I had to smile. Whatever I had won would now go into my estate for my family. It would be my last gift to them. My thoughts were that the gift that I had craved had never been given. Still, I had lived as well as I could, and had enjoyed a good career and marriage. My parents emigrating to Australia when I was a teenager had allowed me to leave the taunts and spitefulness that I had been subject to in my old school in England. All of a sudden, I had the vision of the hills that I could see from my old bedroom window. It was a sight to die for. That’s when I saw only a golden light.
………………………………………..
Oddly, I opened my eyes again and memories of that other, craved-for, life filled my mind. I was in bed and the sun was shining through the window. I looked around and the room seemed familiar, somehow. I pulled the bedsheet off and stood, suddenly feeling the weight on my chest and the smooth feel of the nightdress against my body. I padded to the window and looked out.
There, in front of my eyes, was the last vision of my dying body. The shape of the hills were exactly as I remembered, although the houses dotting the lower slopes were new, as was the hair that tended to fall across my eyes.
“Mikala, honey. It’s time to get up and face the day.”
That was my father calling. Today was the last Sunday of my youth. Tomorrow, I would be starting my first job, as a tour guide with a travel company.
Today was Sunday, so church. It was my mothers’ church, as my father was not religious. Well, his religion was making money, rather than saving souls. I smiled as I turned from the window to put on a gown to go and get breakfast. I was looking forward to the service today. Or, should I say, what will be happening after the service.
I stood for a moment and looked at the room. It was a girls’ room, and almost everything in it screamed ‘girl!’ The bathroom was not as I remembered, now a bit bigger to accommodate the double shower. I sat to pee, wiped and washed my hands. When I had lived here before, it had been better than most houses in the area, but no mansion. As I walked downstairs, I could see some differences. There were doors in what used to be the outside wall, so there must have been some building work in the intervening years.
In the kitchen, my father was busy at the stove, and I glanced at the calendar. It was the day that I had died on the other side of the world. The old me had been born in the late forties, and I had left this house in the mid-sixties, so I now had a lifetime of experience that Mikala had never known. I wondered if she was still inside me, or had moved out as I moved in. I did have her memories of a loving father and a domineering mother, so she may have been suppressed all her life, waiting for this morning.
“Here’s your breakfast, sweetheart. Eat up, it will give you the strength you need to get you through the day. You really don’t need to go to that church if you don’t want to.”
“I want to go, Daddy, so I can tell him what you’ve found out. The look on his face will be worth a photo.”
I had my breakfast and cleaned up as he was looking intently at his laptop. He worked in stockbroking, or should I say, he lived for stockbroking. The youngest child of Hungarian refugees who had fled to England after the country joined with the Germans in the World War, he was now white-haired and slow, but still a strong man. My mother is his second wife, and a mistake that he now regretted.
I went upstairs and used the big shower, dried and went to dress for church. My mother had always made me wear very childish clothes, with ribbons and bows, with long skirts and looking like someone out of a period novel. Today, though, I dressed according to my age, with a shorter pleated skirt and a silk blouse that my father had bought for me to start work with, among a heap of other things that were in a suitcase waiting to be taken. I had been dressing like this for the last couple of weeks, and the other dresses had been donated to the Amateur Dramatic Group.
When I was dressed and made-up, I picked up my bag and went back downstairs.
“See you after church, Daddy.”
“Do you have your new door key?”
“Right here, Daddy, on my keyring.”
“Sing well and have fun.”
“You can be certain of the second, Daddy.”
I walked outside and looked around, noting the new wing that took up the space where a kitchen garden used to be. My Honda sat next to my fathers’ Range Rover, and its lights flashed as I pressed the button on the key. It had been my mothers’ up to a week before but was now mine. I drove to the church, along familiar roads with some unfamiliar shops and houses. It wasn’t as I remembered it, but sixty years can do that for any place.
I parked at the church and went in, sitting in a pew near the back without kneeling or crossing myself. I stayed silent during the hymns and had to smile at the sermon. It was loosely based around the Italian phrase of Que Sera, Sera -- What will be, will be. The preacher made it out to all be Gods’ Will, with us all following his instructions. It was aimed at the congregation following the decrees of the church without question. It’s no wonder they’re called flocks.
The preacher looked at me as he went to leave, and I smiled brightly at him. I waited as the smallish congregation left, looking at the sumptuous interior of the supposedly humble house of God as I waited. When I walked outside, he was waiting for me.
“Mikala. Are you looking forward to your time at Saint Ignatius? Your mother told me that you would make an excellent nun. I must say that you don’t appear to look like a Bride of Christ, dressed like that.”
“That’s because my father and I tore up the application papers that you and my mother prepared. Tomorrow, instead of learning History and Theology, I’m off to be taught how to herd cats with a tour company.”
“Your mother will not be happy with that, child.”
“Two things for you to know. One is that I’m not a child any longer, and the second is that I don’t give a flying fuck what my mother thinks. I don’t know what bullshit she’s been telling you in confession, but we have changed the locks at home, and my father has removed her name from the family bank accounts. She went on a six-week cruise this summer, a habit of hers, and this time she was followed by a private investigator. My father received a number of photos a couple of weeks ago, showing her breaking that commandment about adultery several times with different men. It seems that she’s been taking these trips and picking up handsome, well-endowed studs for a few years. When she disembarks, on Wednesday, she will be welcomed by a lawyer with the divorce papers, and my father has two large cases with her property that we cleared from the house over the last week. You would be surprised at the little toys we found hidden away.”
“That’s no way to speak of your mother! You should revere and respect her.”
“Like you and your church respect women! Where are all the women bishops, the women cardinals. There’s one reason that I’m happy that my mother made me wear those childish dresses, and that’s because you and the perverts that work with you weren’t able to leer at my tits. This is my last goodbye, and I doubt that you’ll see my gold-digging bitch of a mother again, she’ll be having a hard time keeping housed and fed, so won’t be putting big notes in the collection any longer. Goodbye.”
I turned on my heel and walked away from him as his mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish. I felt suddenly cleansed. If my rebirth was brought about by a higher being, it wasn’t one that would look kindly on the church that professed to follow his word.
“I’ve always wanted to do that!”
I didn’t break my stride as those words seemed to be spoken in my brain. Perhaps the original Mikala hadn’t moved out.
“I’m here, with you, Michael. We will merge, as time goes on, but I’m happy that you have joined me to face life. I could never have spoken to that old hypocrite like that. Mother had almost beaten my freewill from me with her ways. I was looking forward to travelling, before you arrived, but was scared of it at the same time. On my own, I doubt that I would have lasted, but, with the two of us, we will get on well. I’ve looked at your memories and I’ve always wondered what the house used to look like. Now I know.”
I sat in the car and started the engine. I pulled the shade down and looked in the mirror to check my lipstick. I laughed.
“Hello, Mikala, thank you for not hating me.”
“Welcome to my brain, Mikala. I could never hate someone so knowledgeable and wise. How long have you played guitar?”
“About fifty years, are you any good?”
“Not as good as I will be the next time that we pick it up. It’s the one thing that’s given me a problem. My fingers didn’t want to play what my brain was asking. My piano is better than my guitar, but not that hot.”
“That’s good. I tried piano in later life and enjoyed it, as far as I got. We’ll be able to be good with both now.”
“There was a big block of your memories that were hard to look at.”
“That would have been my time in Vietnam. I arrived in Australia at exactly the right time to be called up. They took me from a puny lad to a fit man. I was trained at Puckapunyal, spent three months in the rain forest of northern Queensland and was sent to the war in the Special Forces. I saw things and did things that no young lady should know about. I wonder if what I learned has stuck. I do revel in this young body. Do you run?”
“I do. I can already tap into your abilities in breathing and stuff. What do you say about having a run, this afternoon?”
“Sounds good to me. I doubt that the tracks I used to use are still around.”
“Not a lot has changed. It will be good to get outside after lunch.”
I arrived back at the house and went in, my smile telling my father that I had delivered the message with both barrels. We had a light lunch, and I went upstairs to change into running gear. With my phone in a waist pack, I set out on a track that seemed unchanged. As I warmed up, we mentally conversed about breathing and proper use of the muscles to give extra stamina.
“By the way. There’s a rapist that’s been reported in the last few months. He attacks women alone. He hasn’t been close to us, but I looked at the locations and he may be near us next time.”
“That’s all right. These nails are well looked after. They’re long enough to cut his throat or take an eye out. If we meet him, we can look after ourselves. Did you learn to knee a guy in the nuts?”
“Yes, I’ve been doing some self-defence lessons.”
“If we do meet him, the first lesson in combat is to be the one who walks away.”
We took some tracks that I hadn’t known about, and were out into the country, into our second five miles, and I could feel the exhilaration that came from my mental companion. We were passing a copse when I felt a movement behind me. An arm came into my view, and I smelled chloroform. I immediately stopped breathing and reached up for the arm, stopping suddenly and bending forward, pulling the man over my body.
He was a well-built guy, but I could only see his eyes as he hit the ground, because of his balaclava. I didn’t ask his permission, I just kicked him hard in the nuts, and, as he curled up, I gave him another kick in the head.
I pulled the phone out and speed-dialled the police, giving them the location and the situation. I sat beside the track until I heard the sirens.
“That was amazing. We took him down like he was a rubber dummy.”
“He was a coward, using chloroform. With his build, he should have been able to subdue a girl without it.”
“But he didn’t meet a girl this time, did he? He met a hardened, combat experienced, Special Forces fighter.”
“We don’t tell them that. We stopped suddenly and bent over, and he went over the top. Anything else was what you were taught in the classes. We did well, though, didn’t we?”
I sat there, producing enough tears to be believable, as the police forced his hands away from his balls so that they could handcuff him with his hands behind him. When the balaclava was pulled off, I laughed. The Inspector looked at me.
“What’s funny, miss?”
“That’s the priests’ assistant at the church in the village. He always leered at girls boobs on Sunday. That’s really going to make the preachers’ day.”
“Do you feel up to making a statement. We can leave it a couple of days.”
“I’m heading for London in the morning, to begin a job, so I’d like to get it over with. I’m sure that you would have enough DNA collected to link him to the other cases, so I doubt that you would need me to put him behind bars. I would prefer it if my name was kept out of this, if you just tell the press that he attacked a transvestite and found someone who knew how to fight. I’m sure that no transvestite would want his name bandied about as a rapists’ target, however successful that would make him feel.”
I was given a ride to the police station, calling my father on the way. He met me there and hugged me so hard I thought I would snap. He sat with me, holding my hand, as I gave my statement, pushing the notion that he had gone over the top without my help, and only the classes kicking in enabled me to subdue him.
After the system had done its thing, he took me home and I went for a long shower. He called through the door, as I was drying, that we were going somewhere nice for our evening meal. I dressed well, in an outfit that I had thought was too good to take with me. We went to a good restaurant in the nearest town and ate well. I had a couple of glasses of wine and was feeling mellow. He put his hand on mine.
“I’m so proud of you today, Mikkie. Not only did you tell the preacher off but ended up putting one of his assistants in jail. I wouldn’t be surprised if they have other samples of DNA that they’re not talking about. The other girls were found a long way from where they were taken, and the newspaper has suggested that they were unconscious for all the time. Here we are, with you seemingly unaffected by this, I would have thought that you would have been a bowl of quivering jelly.”
“The old me would have, Daddy. Since you’ve rid me of my mothers’ influence, I’ve gained a lot of confidence in the last couple of weeks. It only took something like today to bring it to the front. I was afraid of failing in the future, but I think that now I’ll make you proud of me.”
“I’ll always be proud of you, my daughter.”
When I woke up on Monday morning, I finished packing after breakfast and my father put the cases and my guitar in the Honda. I had breakfast, showered and dressed. I stripped the bed and put the sheets in the washing machine. They then went into the drier, and we had an early lunch. The bed was remade, and I was ready to go. I hugged my father and shed some tears. He wished me a good trip and good luck.
“The best of luck with Mum, when you see her. I can’t send her my love, as she destroyed it with her domination. Give me an email when things have sorted themselves out. I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, Mikala. You’ve always been the best thing that came out of my marriage to your mother, ever better now. Work hard and come back to me a world-wise woman.”
I drove into London and parked at the head office of the tour company. I went in and presented myself at reception, being sent along a corridor to an office. There, I met the lady who had interviewed me, a couple of months before, when my father had brought me on a manufactured trip ‘to meet up with his relatives’.
“Welcome to Topper Travel Company, Mikala. I’ll show you around our training section. It isn’t big but will give you the basic training in being a Topper Guide.”
She showed me the classroom, the mock-up of a tourist coach, and a dining room. Then, we went to the clothing store, where I was issued with red skirts, slacks, shorts, tops in hi-vis yellow with the company logo, a couple of red dresses with wide yellow hems, and a red jacket and a red ski jacket.
“We’ll need you to be dressed in the company outfit tomorrow morning, for training, and only wear your own clothes on days off. All the hotels we use have a quick laundry service for our staff, so you should be able to keep smart on duty.”
I was then issued with a name badge with Mikala Halmi on it and she took me, now laden with garment bags, to my room.
“This is your room for a week, and then you join your first tour with an experienced guide. Normally, you would have to share, but there’s only two of you this week.”
She left me to hang the bags on a rail, and then I went down to bring my own bag up. It was one with mainly underwear and toiletries in it, as well as shoes. I had been advised of the type of shoes I would need for the job and had got my own so that they would fit properly. I had two pairs of low-heeled black ones, a pair of moderate heels in red, and a pair of winter boots. I left my case with my other clothes, and the guitar case, in the car.
I was sitting in my room, reading the paperwork I’d been given, when I heard voices in the corridor. When it went quiet, I opened the door and looked out. The next door to mine was open, so I went and peeked in. A girl, about my age, was sitting on the bed with a worried expression.
“Hello. I’m Mikala, and the two of us are the only trainees this week.”
Her face brightened.
“Hello, Mikala. I’m Belinda and I was thinking that I may have made the wrong decision, now that I’m here and committed to being a guide.”
“Don’t worry, Belinda. Between us we can get through the training and be on our way to strange places with a coach load of strangers and whip them into compliance.”
She smiled, which made her face light up.
“Keep that smile, Belinda. Whatever you’re worried about, that smile will be your shield.”
She put her things on the rail and we both went down to the dining room to meet the cook. It was simple fare, seeing that there was only the two of us. She told us that we would be joined by other guides for breakfast, who arrived early to join the coach to go and pick up travellers, and that they also served lunch for the office staff, but tonight she was on overtime to help us settle in. Other days, we would have to go and get our own meals. We were given a list with a nearby café, a couple of fast-food places, and a cheaper restaurant.
We had the meal, enough to last us until morning, and helped the cook tidy up. Afterwards we sat in the dining room to get to know each other. She, like me, had good passes in French and Italian, with conversational German. I had the first two, a smattering in the third, as well as being taught to speak Hungarian by my father, the Uralic version that was the widest spread. He had also taught me a few words in his local version, should I want to vent.
She also played guitar, but hadn’t brought one with her, as well as piano. It was a feature of Topper Tours that the guides were able to entertain the guests if the need arose, like around campfires in a snowdrift or an isolated hotel without TV. I guess that it was really considered to be a way that they could grade applicants for their personality as a campfire would never be on the itinerary.
In the morning, we dressed in the uniform and went down to breakfast, joining a couple of guides who were leaving on a ten-day tour of the French vineyards. They indicated that we should join them, and they made us laugh with stories about various tours they had been on.
After breakfast, we were in the classroom all day, being drilled in what we should do, what we could do, and what was forbidden. Later, that afternoon, we were introduced to the mock coach, and shown all the features that we should know about, like where the sick bags were and where the cleaning kit was in case the first item was late or missed.
The second day was much the same, with emphasis on the coach. We got used to speaking on the microphone, checking in all the places where a guest could leave something, taken through a mock evacuation of an overturned coach. I had to smile, as about the only thing we didn’t have to do was a pre-flight lecture on oxygen masks and wearing a lifejacket.
That evening, I rang my father.
“Hi, Daddy. How did you get on with Mum?”
“It worked as expected honey. She came off the boat with her travelling companion, the woman from the town chemist shop. They were giggling, which stopped when Henry presented her with the divorce papers and a couple of the photos. She blustered and screamed blue murder, but it finally sunk in that she had been kicked out. She started blubbering and trying to make it up, but I held firm and left her with her suitcases. It all made me wonder if we may have missed something when we cleaned her things out.”
“The old false floor in the wardrobe trick?”
“Actually, it was the false base in the vanity drawer trick. I found a lot of photos of rampant young men, as well as about ten thousand pounds worth of euros. The photos will be given to Henry, and I’ll add the money to your card. You may need extra to live on. How are you getting on?”
“Really well. There are just two of us in this induction and we get along well. We have been given an address where we can share a flat nearby for when we’re off, and we’ll go there Friday afternoon to get settled in. Belinda doesn’t have a car, so I’ll bring us back on Monday morning for our first tours. Any news on the rapist?”
“The village is buzzing with the news. I’ve had several call me to make sure that you’re all right. It will be interesting to see what tomorrows paper makes of it. I’ll email you a scan if it’s juicy.”
Daddy did send me the clippings. The first one was simple and to the point with a headline of ‘Rapist Caught!’ and a rough overview taken from the police press conference. They went down the track of the victim being a transvestite with combat training. I had to laugh as they hinted that it may have been an undercover officer.
The following day’s clipping was more interesting, with a picture of the preacher being put into the back seat of a police car, along with his other assistant. The papers’ cartoonist had drawn a cartoon of the church, with a big sign saying – ‘This House of God is Out of Service’.
My mother called me on my mobile on Thursday evening, pleading with me to follow my holy calling and also to help her recover some things for her. I told her where to put her holy calling and that the things were in the hands of her husbands’ lawyer. The conversation was cathartic to the inner Mikala, freeing us both of the maternal grasp.
On the Friday afternoon, Belinda and I put our bags in the Honda and went to our flat, with us sharing the bond deposit. It had been previously used by another couple of guides who had both got themselves married to rich Americans, who they had met on a twenty-one-day tour of Italy.
Marianne Gregory © 2026
Chapter 2
On Saturday morning, I drove Belinda to her home, about two hours north, where we picked up her guitar, and had lunch with her parents. They were happy that she had found someone to share her first week. We were able to tell them that we would be sharing the next two weeks, as we were helping two other guides, in separate coaches, but following the same general route from London to Rome, where we would be flown back for a week off before our next trip.
The company had a local group of part-timers who picked up English-speaking clients from the airport. Sometimes they arrived as a single group, and sometimes over a period on different flights. These guides would get them settled in the hotel and then the tour usually included a couple of nights before they started the travelling. This was the usual process for our biggest market, the Americans. If the tour was one that went around England, and booked from non-English- speaking countries, those of us with the right language would be picking them up at the airport.
We went into the office on Monday morning and joined our mentors at the breakfast table. Jessica Pringle was my partner for the two weeks, and Helen Gardener was Belindas’. They were both experienced and tried to calm our fears. We took our bags out to the coach park, found our coaches, and had our things stowed away. As we drove to the hotel, Jessica got me to recite the welcoming speech and tell her where all the safety equipment was stored.
At the hotel, the two coaches pulled up and we welcomed our clients. We had a group of artist types in our coach, while Belinda had an amateur drama group. We would take different routes but stay in the same hotel on the last night. That Monday, we drove to Dover and took the ferry to France. It was odd, but watching the white cliffs receding was almost as magic as it was to our clients, all deeming it to be a specifically British thing to see.
We weaved our way through France, stopping at various places to see art galleries or homes of famous painters. Our coach was all adults, into their middle age, and were no problem. We got into Italy along the coast road from Nice to Genoa and ended the tour in Rome on the second Thursday. The coach driver would take them to the airport on Friday morning, but the four of us changed into our own clothes at the hotel and took a taxi to the airport, arriving back in London on Thursday evening. We had a taxi to the company offices to pick up our cars. Jessica told me that, as an Italian speaker, I could get future trips to join the tour that started in Rome and went back to London.
Obviously, the other two gave good reports of our work. Our next tour would be starting in France, on the Tuesday of the next week, with Belinda and I taking it. We would fly to Paris on the Monday evening and be with our clients when the coach picked us all up. The tour was two weeks in France, looking at great gardens, with a lot of the first day being spent in Versailles.
I did go home in the break, dropping Belinda at her home, and ran the tracks. The church was open again, with a new preaching team, but most of the worshipers were going elsewhere. The police Inspector called around on Sunday. I suppose that Daddy had told him I was home. He gave me a scroll that thanked me for my assistance to the force, without naming what it entailed.
He also gave me a cheque, as it appeared that a reward had been posted for information leading to the arrest of the rapist. Before he left, he told me, quietly, that the DNA taken from all the victims matched all three from the church, and that traces of all the victims’ DNA was in the car that had been found nearby, as well as the main bedroom of the manse. I gave Daddy the cheque to bank for me. It was a cash cheque, so he could do so, and then he would transfer to my account, so hiding my involvement.
Daddy told me that mother had sent a lawyer to get anything she had left behind. Daddy had escorted him around the house and took him to all the places he wanted to see. The false bottom of the vanity drawer was no longer there, so he went away empty handed.
After the weekend, I picked up Belinda, as arranged, and we did the gardening tour, flying to Paris and back to London from Cannes after a very interesting couple of weeks where our French was stretched to the max. When we checked in with the office, we were called in and told about a special tour. The fact that, between us, we could get by in French, Italian and German, we were asked if we could manage a different sort of tour. This one would start at the airport at Milan, Northern Italy, or Lyons, in France. It was a new product, an expensive trip that actually started properly in Baja, Hungary at the local airstrip, and having a local coach driver to take us to the hotel.
It was limited to thirty clients, and we were expected to be on duty around the clock if need be. The second day we would all join a river cruise to Budapest, along the glorious Danube, stopping at a few tourist spots along the way. We would have another coach at Budapest to take everyone around the tourist hotspots there, before everyone flying out.
“You two have done very well, with several calls of commendation and no complaints. This tour is not something that our usual guides would be happy with, seeing that you will really be nurse maids to the clients. I think that you have the attitude and the youthful stamina to make it work. This first tour are all Italians. A week after you complete it there will be one that are French. We may offer it to clients from England and America next season. There will be a translator if you need one.”
“That’s not a problem, ma-am, as I speak conversational Hungarian.”
“That wasn’t on your application.”
“I have no academic papers for it, but my father and I speak a lot of Hungarian at home, or with his relatives.”
“That’s a real plus. The interpreter will join you in Budapest for the first two tours, and then we may be able to dispense with her.”
“Where do we join the guests?”
“You’ll fly to Milan, the day before, and stay in the airport hotel. You’ll be at the arrivals gate, as they are all on Alitalia, but different flights. Then you take them to the counter for the regional airline that will take you to Hungary. The airport there is a grass strip. Being EU, the immigration will be completed before you take off. You’ll share a cabin on the riverboat, with one staying up late and the other starting early. It will be hard work, make no mistake.”
“Thank you for your faith in us. We’ll do our best. Will you want a report, seeing that it’s the trial run?”
“That would be good, and we’ll see if there’s anything that needs changing with the second trip. Now, while you’re on the river, the boat is crewed by another company, so you will need to wear good outfits with just the name badge on. By that time, the guests will, hopefully, be able to recognise you.”
We went to our flat and looked at the itinerary that we had been given. For us, it was just herding the small group until we were in Budapest. Then there was a whole load of famous places and entertainment to take them to. As far as we were concerned, it didn’t look too bad, with it just being all totally new that was a worry. At least we would have the interpreter the first couple of visits. In the few days before the first trip, I tutored Belinda on the basic Hungarian words she would need to know, with the first being the words for men and women, so she could point out the way to the toilets. Others included ‘get your hand off my tit.’
I also rang my father, telling him where I was going and asking him if there were any of the old family still there. He emailed me a short list of relatives that he knew were still living, mainly second cousins. There was one in Baja that ran a restaurant.
We flew into Milan and checked into the airport hotel. The next day, resplendent in our uniforms, we were at the pop-up company desk to welcome our arrivals and guide them to a seating area near the food court as we waited on later arrivals, handing out information packs and name badges. When everyone had arrived, we stored the pop-up and guided them to the counter where our next flight was. We had been instructed with this kind of mayhem before, making sure that the passengers didn’t carry too much into the smaller aircraft cabin was a bit like filling a coach.
We all had to go through the EU border checks and were then in a coach to be taken to the smaller plane out on the tarmac. Some of our passengers were complaining about the size of the plane, considering the money they had paid for the trip, while others were smiling at a new experience. That, alone, allowed us to weed out the ones that needed extra watching.
The flight to Baja was short, as far as the miles went, but longer because of the airspeed. The strip was only slightly rough, but there was a cheer when we rolled to a stop. The coach was waiting, and the airport staff were pretty slick in getting everyone out of the plane and into the coach, followed by the luggage getting stowed in the bins. Belinda had a walk-through of the plane before we boarded the coach, which was good, as there were a few things left behind.
In the coach, we were in our natural element, with Belinda on the microphone as we were driven towards the city and our hotel for the night. She gave out the instructions in Italian, French, and English, telling them about the hotel and the next day boarding the river boat mid-afternoon, after lunch. There were a pile of information sheets about Baja at the front, and I went through the coach handing them out, smiling at everyone and starting to fix faces with the names on their badges. Belinda had sat down, and I went to stand by the driver, who hadn’t said a word up to now. I said hello to him in Hungarian and complemented him on his pristine coach. He looked at my company badge and grinned. It was like turning a tap on as he started talking. I found out about his business and his love of driving. I showed him the phone number of the Halmi Restaurant on my phone, and he told me that he ate there a lot, as it was the one place in town where the service was good, the food was authentic, and the prices were right.
I rang the number and asked for my cousin. When she came on the line, I told her who I was and that my father had given me her number. After a short talk, I told her that I was in the coach with thirty Italian tourists and wondered if she may be able to fit us in but charging the local prices. She said that she would be happy to, so I asked her to wait while I got numbers.
I picked up the microphone and asked for attention, reverting to Italian.
“Ladies and gentlemen. I know that tonight has been listed as a free evening, with us trying to help you find a meal. I now have a restaurant that can fit us in. The thing is that it isn’t part of the package and you’ll be charged when you eat. I’ve been assured that the prices will be local, not tourist rate. Please put your hand up if you want to experience an authentic Hungarian meal tonight.”
They all put their hands up, the grumbly ones when they saw the others. I asked our driver if he would take us and bring us back to the hotel, and he told me that he was chartered until tomorrow afternoon. I got back on the phone.
“The numbers are thirty-three, including Damir, our coach driver, who is a regular of yours. We’ll be with you at seven.”
I chatted with Damir as we went into the city, picking up the microphone and pointing out the highlights to the others after he had told me about them and slowing down so I could pass on the information. Belinda could hardly wipe the smile off her face as this was happening. Before we opened the door, I told everyone that the coach would be outside at six-thirty to go for a meal, and to make sure that their watches were all on local time.
We got them out, with the luggage sorted, and checked in. The reception did have an Italian speaker, so we were able to take it easy. The two of us took turns to go and shower, changing into our red dresses. When we were both downstairs, we sat at the bar in the hotel lounge, with soft drinks.
“That was amazing, back there on the bus. You turned a normal transit to the hotel into a sight-seeing trip. How many others do you have on your phone?”
“Only another six, none that run a restaurant in Budapest. This is a real surprise to me, as well. I hope the meal goes down well.”
“The restaurant has the same name as yours, is it close family?”
“This one is a second cousin. You have to be careful here, as Halmi is where my family used to live, and there’s a choice in taking the town name as your family name, or following a family name from way back, which may have originated in another village.”
At the designated time, our thirty guests were helped onto the coach, all looking as if they had showered and changed. We arrived at the restaurant, where Damir introduced me to Helga, my relative, and we set about sorting out the seating. I was given the menu, and Helga pointed out the dishes with a lot of garlic. I called out when they had settled.
“Ladies and gentlemen. This restaurant serves authentic meals, so most of the menu has a lot of garlic in it. There are some items which don’t, so I’ll start with one that has, and is a specialty of the house, how many for the goulash?”
Eventually, we had all the orders. I asked Helga to give the two of us something nice that wouldn’t leave us smelly in the morning as we were on duty. Damir ordered his usual and was told that his, and ours, were free for bringing them a coachload of customers. The three of us had a separate table, and when Helga had organised the kitchen, she came and sat with us, asking me about my father and his strange wife.
I was able to tell her the story of recent events, with Damir listening and chuckling at some of the details. I found out that my father had visited at times, when I was younger and at home with my mother. When the meals came out, she took my contact details and promised to let the rest of the family know I was in the country. I gave her an itinerary and told her that if tonight went well, we’d be back in a few weeks with thirty French tourists.
The meals were good, with our guests tucking in, as well as having rather a lot to drink. After the main course, there was a trio that came in, setting up in the corner, and started to play folk songs. I could see that our group looked keen to sing, so I went over to the trio and asked if I could take over on guitar and sing them some of the songs in Italian. I was up there for half an hour, translating the songs on the fly, with the guitarist on hand to whisper the Hungarian in my ear as we played. It was a little fractured, at first, but the diners were able to repeat the chorus when we got to it.
We left at ten, helping some find the coach steps, and I hugged my cousin and thanked her. She told me that she should thank me, for bringing so many diners and so much joy to her restaurant.
That night, once we had made sure that everyone was in their rooms, Belinda and I went to ours, where we undressed, got into bed and put the lights out. There was a voice in the dark as I waited for sleep.
“Sleep in, Mikkie, I’ll get up early for the guests, although there’s a few that we won’t see until later. For the first night of a new tour, that was one hell of a success.”
She was up and dressed in some of her own clothes as I opened my eyes.
“Morning, Belle.”
“Good morning, Mikkie. I’ll see you when you get downstairs.”
I dragged myself out of bed and went into the ensuite. When I had dressed in a skirt and top, with a cardigan that had my name badge pinned to it, I packed my case and sat it by the door, next to hers. After a quick look around the room and the ensuite, I went down to have breakfast, being greeted by Belinda and even hugged by a couple of our lady guests. As I was eating, Damir came in and told me that he was parked outside and would take us all for a trip around Baja before dropping us at the riverside. That wasn’t part of the official tour, and I was grateful. I told Belinda what was happening, and she got both of our bags down to put on the coach.
Eventually, we had everyone fed, packed, checked out and in the coach. Damir took us around the old city. He took us to the Serbian church, Trinity Square and a few other places, before stopping for a late lunch at a magnificent grand house that was part of a winery. Nobody complained about the small cost of this, as they had seen a lot of sights that weren’t on the itinerary.
When we arrived at the riverside, Damir gave the two of us a hug, and told me that he would organise things better, next time, and would text me with the details after I advised him of the day that we were arriving. He stayed as we got our guests aboard and settled, and then another couple of coaches arrived with the boat tour guests, who had been on their own excursion. Damir waved at the other drivers and kissed my cheek.
“I only drove you, this time, to check out the arrangements. I was going to pass it to one of those drivers, next time, but will continue to drive whenever you’re here, Mikala.”
“Thank you, Damir. See you in a few weeks with a group from France.”
He went to get in his coach, to find his cap upturned with money in it. He was laughing as he drove away.
I joined Belinda on board, and we unpacked our cases for four days and five nights on board. Then, we went to talk to the skipper and let him see that we would blend in. Those days, cruising the Danube, were almost like a holiday for us, with very little in the way of problems with our crowd, who were being looked after by the crew. In fact, we ended up joining them for meals and being social but weren’t included in the few day trips they had on our way to Budapest.
On the last morning, we dressed in our company uniform and packed our bags for the next part of the tour. This was when we would meet the interpreter and get taken to the hotel, one that was a bit grander than our usual stopping places, to justify the tour price. The wharf had several coaches lined up, with one showing Topper Tours on the front. I went first, with both our cases, and spoke to the driver and a rather good-looking girl beside him. The fact that I greeted them in Hungarian made her start and him smile.
Her badge said that she was Jelana Miskolc, which is a large town near Halmi. When she read my badge, she hugged me and welcomed me to the Homeland. We chatted while Belinda was waiting for our guests to gather, and I found that Jelana only translated from Hungarian to English. We decided, at that moment, that Belinda would go with her, if we split the group in half, while I took the other half.
When we had everyone on board, we headed for the hotel, and I introduced Jelana to the guests. The hotel had an Italian speaker, so we were easily checked in. Jelana came with us as we took our cases to the room, and we sat for a while as she went through all the places that would be seen over the next week. Belinda was brought on board with being at Jelena’s side to translate from English to Italian, and I studied the descriptions of the sights.
Today was lunch and dinner in the hotel, with free roaming, although we ended up with the two groups, going off in different directions, me with a map to follow, supplied by reception. I took my group, mainly the females, where they wanted to go, which was shops, and helped translate as they tried things on and haggled over the prices. I caught a couple of the salesladies smiling at remarks, so surmised that they understood Italian, even if they weren’t letting on.
It was a slightly poorer group that returned to the hotel for dinner, with some of the purchases having the first outing for the meal. I, of course, had my red dress, as did Belinda. Jelana sat with us for the meal, and Belinda related the fun they had in the afternoon, with the predominantly male group wanting to see shops selling leather, with many buying new jackets, even though they could have bought better in Italy.
That set the scene for the rest of the tour. I took half a group around wherever we had stopped, cheat sheet in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, while Jelana translated the details to Belinda who was the one speaking Italian. The groups weren’t fixed, and some went with me one day, and with Belinda another.
We got our guests to the airport on the last day, and helped them through the procedure until they were on the other side of the check-in. Many gave us hugs, not a common occurrence with other tours we had been on, even if that still didn’t make up a hands’ worth. That evening, we had dinner with Jelana and our coach driver, discussing the events of the week and any changes we would make.
In the morning, we were in our own clothes and off to the airport for our own flight home. We had decided that it had been an interesting tour, with the language being the biggest problem. We would suggest that Jelana needed to be with us next time, and beyond, with her limitations that we could overcome by having Belinda team with her.
For me, it had been more than interesting, with phone calls from a few more of the family in the evenings. It turned out that Jelana and I had distant relatives in common, seeing how the population tended to intermix within the small area in those days.
Back in London, we collected my car from the long-term park and went into the office that afternoon. When we went into see our manager, she stood and shook our hands and told us to sit down.
“Well, you two. You really know how to make a splash. One of your Italian guests is our Italian Area Manager. He was calling me every couple of days to tell me how well you worked, and how friendly you were with the group. He was very impressed, and his wife was, as well.”
Marianne Gregory © 2026