They arrived in clouds of perfume, one, lavender and the
other, lily of the valley. They were dressed in ‘no – nonsense’ tweed that
exuded adventure. Lavender wore a cameo brooch at her neck and Lily of the
Valley sported a gold locket on a chain. On their feet were brogue shoes and they
carried knapsacks on their backs. Both were aged about eighty plus.
“Good morning, what a
lovely day for a bus trip! My name is Ella and this is my sister Prissy.” they
both chirruped to their fellow passengers as they made their way to their
seats.
I nudged Carol and whispered in her ear.
“I told you we were too young for this bus trip. The clue
was in the wording of the sign, ‘A Two Day Coach Trip to the Quaint and
Exotic’. Imagine where we’ll end up!”
Carol my fiancée, punched me non too gently on the shoulder.
“Shut up! Now listen Jack, just because we are the youngest
on the bus doesn’t mean that the journey wont be interesting and there is
always the cream tea at the end of today!”
“Wow,” I said. “High spot of the trip!”
The coach left on time and soon we were flying down the
motorway. The guide, a tall gentleman with a small moustache, announced that we
were proceeding towards Wykhampton where we were to tour a medieval church and
a swannery.
“I knew it would be fun with a capital ‘F’” I whispered and
earned myself another punch.
The church was one of the really old types with a square
tower sporting a small steeple. There was a large graveyard full of lichen and
moss covered tombstones, where I smoked a cigarette as I waited. Churches were
not really my scene, but Carol said she enjoyed the ambience of a really old
church the air, still redolent with odours of candle wax and age. Me? I could
only smell must and mould!
We spent an inordinate amount of time at the Swannery, the
passengers parting with hard earned cash to obtain bags of mouldy crumbs to
feed already over fed birds! Photographs had to be taken and cameras were
handed to and fro to record this momentous part of the journey.
Our next stop was the Forest of Aveldon
Carol caught me yawning as the guide pointed out various
aspects of the forest as we proceeded deeper into the leafy jungle and she left
me in no doubt that we would have some serious falling out, if I, in her words,
didn’t grow up and get with ‘the programme’!
The guide, whose name I learnt was Mr. Goodman, helped each
of our fellow passengers down the steps of the bus. We were now parked in a
small area which had been laid out in one of the forest glades. A tea /coffee
and snacks trailer was stationed across from where we sat and we all made our
way across to it to check out its fare.
“Toilets are across there!” shouted Mr Goodman indicating
two brick buildings on the edge of the forest. “Back here in an hour please
everybody and we can continue our trip!”
By the time most people were back on the coach, we all had
had something to eat and drink, stretched our legs and had relieved ourselves.
There was a growing air of expectancy as to our next port of call amongst the
passengers which I was trying to plumb into, if for no other reason than
keeping Carol sweet.
“Is every aboard?” called Mr Goodman expectantly. “We really
need to be at our next stop in an hour.”
A silence fell, for everybody knew who was missing – the two
old ladies, Ella and Prissy.
“Has anyone seen them?” asked a slightly worried Mr Goodman.
“In which direction did they set off?”
Everyone, including Carol and I shook our heads. I think we
had all given the old ladies a wide berth as they exuded an aura of slight
eccentricity and no one wanted to get ‘latched’ onto by them.
After a further fifteen minutes Mr Goodman was beginning to
look distraught.
“Where can they be?” he was murmuring to himself. “I wonder
if I should inform the police.”
Carol turned to me and said.
“Come on Jack, we’ll go look for them.”
“Wwwhatt?” I stammered. “You want me to go looking for the
two old dears? What happens if we get
lost?”
But Carol was on her feet and forcing me out into the
passageway.
“We’ll go look for them, Mr Goodman!” she cried shoving me
towards the bus door.
Mr Goodman, Carol and I had a powwow before we left the safe
confines of the glade.
“I have a whistle,” said Mr Goodman. “If the ladies appear
back I will blow it and keep blowing it till you return.”
“If we return…” I grumbled, getting a very nasty glare from
Carol.
The branches closed behind us obscuring the bus and its
occupants. Carol and I were following a well used path, if the amount of litter
was anything to go by. Coke cans, crisp papers and sweet wrappers blew about.
“How far do we have to go?” I moaned to Carol’s back. “I’m
hungry and I’m cold.”
Carol turned on me and hissed.
“It’s always me, me, me with you, Jack! What happens if one
of them is hurt?”
Ten minutes later we heard a squeaky voice calling.
“Oh come down kitty. Please come down!”
Stepping into a small clearing we saw one of the elderly
ladies, Prissy, I think, beckoning to a small cat which was sitting high up in
a tree.
Ella stepped forward and pointed at the trapped animal.
“I am so sorry my sister and I have got you to come looking
for us, but we couldn’t leave the poor animal trapped up there.”
I stepped up to the tree and shouted. My voice being a
little louder than the old lady’s gave the cat a shock, for suddenly it ran
along the branch, scampered down the tree trunk and vanished into the forest.
“Oh, I feel so foolish…” Ella began to say, but Prissy cut
her off.
“No good deed goes unpunished, sister. We achieved what we
set out to do.”
By the time we got back to the bus Mr Goodman was on the
point of sending some of the more able of the passengers out to look for us! The law of diminishing returns!
Goodness knows what would have happened then. More passengers setting off later
to find these passengers? The bus would eventually be found as empty as the
Marie Celeste!
As Ella and Prissy made their way back to their seats amid
hostile stares from their fellow passengers, Mr Goodman told the driver to
start up and get on our way.
The next visit sadly would have to be cancelled, explained
Mr Goodman. It was to be a trip to a winery for some tasting but to ‘our’
tardiness we had missed our time ‘slot’ and would have to carry on to the next
venue.
This news engendered mumping and moaning amongst the
passengers especially with the wine aficionados and I noticed that the two old
ladies kept their heads down and pretended to be fascinated by the passing
scenery.
Castle Tresdal was our next stop and the battlements and
towers of the edifice were visible from quite far away. The property was the
family seat of the Vernon
family and they had owned it for several hundred years, passing from heir to
heir. Their crest was a rampant cockatrice and the motto read ‘Fear what I can
do’.
As Carol and I stepped down from the bus the two elderly
ladies rushed up to us and thanked us again profusely for coming to look for
them.
“We haven’t been formerly introduced,” one of them said. “I
am Ella and this is my sister Prissy and you are…?”
As Carol and I walked round with the sisters their tongues
never stopped, even the castle guide had a hard job getting heard, but
eventually the ladies took a hint from the other passengers and their
conversation subsided to a ‘peep’.
The tour wended through the Great Hall with its elegant
furniture, wall drapes and tapestries. The guide pointed to the stone staircase
that descended from the first floor to centre of the hall. Several suits of
armour stood guard at the edge of the banisters giving the area a baronial
feel. As the party made their way up the steps Prissy stopped at one of the
armoured suits and put out her hand to touch it.
Ella hissed at her.
“Prissy, don’t touch it. You might knock it of balance…”
Prissy started at her sister’s rebuke and knocked into the
suit. It stood quivering for a second then fell sideways into the suit of
armour below it on the stair. Like dominoes, the suits crashed down the stairs
until they came to rest at the bottom looking like a scrap dealer’s collection.
As our coach made a hasty retreat from Castle Tresdal leaving
very long faced guides and a very angry Lord Vernon, Mr Goodman decided that we
should make for our hotel where we would have dinner and sleep the night. It
had been a full day, he remarked and he hoped that everyone had enjoyed
themselves. More muttering could be heard from the passengers and I received
another punch in the arm from Carol for my muffled sniggering.
The Hotel Splendour (Five Stars) lived up to its name and
provided the tour passengers with a meal to be proud of. A three course dinner
that gave us a choice of meat, fish and vegetarian plates. Wine was served with
the meal and there was coffee and biscuits to follow.
By the time Carol and I made our way to our bedroom, we were
very tired what with the day’s activities, the meal and the excellent vintage
of wine. As I closed the bedroom door, Carol switched on the thirty inch
television which was attached to the wall of our room. It just happened to be a
football match between two Premier teams.
Carol just grimaced and said she was going to take a long
soak in the bath. “Wake me up when your football’s finished,” she said shutting
the bathroom door.
With a can of beer, a packet of peanuts and a bar of
chocolate, all from the mini bar in my room. I settled down in the armchair to
enjoy the game. It had just started and it looked like Fernwall had scored
already.
When I heard the knocking I thought it was someone in the
next room telling me to turn the volume down, but on muting the sound I
realised that it was coming from our bedroom door. I strode over and opened it.
“Oh Jack!” cried Prissy as she shot into our room dressed in
a flannelette nightie.. “We are in dreadful trouble…”
“Can you help us Jack? We’re in a real pickle,” wailed Ella,
who was sporting a purple pyjama suit.
It transpired that after changing for bed in their room,
Ella had decided to leave her shoes outside the room for cleaning. No sooner
had she emerged when Prissy rushed out with her
shoes and the room door had banged shut behind them. As luck would have it the
door had locked and the key was inside the room.
“All you have to do is go down and borrow the night porter’s
key,” I said looking over at the television where Fernwall had scored another goal.
“Oh Jack,” they both chorused. “Couldn’t you go down? We’re
in our bedclothes.”
Descending to the foyer I approached the desk where a
elderly woman sat.
“Good evening sir,” she said, looking over the top of her
spectacles. “How can I help you?”
I explained about the sisters’ predicament and asked if I
could borrow the spare key for their room.
“If you could just wait for a couple of minutes, sir, the
evening porter has gone to check the kitchen. When he returns he will come up
and open the door.”
I thanked her and wandered over to the front door where I
was just about to light a cigarette when I heard a shout and the sound of
someone running.
“Quick Nancy !”
shouted a man in uniform who I took to be the night porter. “Room number 233’s
bath must be overflowing, there’s water coming through room 122’s ceiling! Who
has room number 233?”
I knew instinctively before Nancy checked that it was Ella and Prissy’s
room. It just had to be!
I followed the night porter and the receptionist up the
stairs where upon the door to the sisters’ room being opened, a cascade of
water rushed out. Prissy went white and began to cry.
“Oh I am sorry, I was going to take a bath and when we were
locked out it just skipped my mind!”
Later that night as I lay in bed watching some stupid sitcom
and Carol read her book I reflected on the trip – so far.
“They had to put the people from room 122 into another room,
you know, Carol?” I said. “Everything was dripping and their bed was
saturated.”
Carol put her book down and looking at me said.
“Ella and Prissy are just old. Life is too fast for them and
sometimes they have a bit of bad luck.”
I reached over and drawing her to me kissed her on the lips.
“That is what I love about you sweetheart. You are always
able to see the positive side.” I rolled over, switched off the television and
was soon sound asleep.
It was a pair of very sheepish looking people who came down
to breakfast the next morning. The sisters sat quietly at their table and ate
some toast and drank a little coffee. Carol waved across to them and gave them
a smile but the reciprocal greeting was very muted – from both ladies.
The coach pulled away from the Hotel Splendid with a sigh of
relief from the staff. The insurance would cover the flooding out but as to
whether the coach tour company would ever be welcome back was another matter.
Mr Goodman tried to get some songs sung by the passengers
but the atmosphere was a little stilted and his attempt fell flat. Soon, the
only sound was the coach’s engine and the hum of the tyres on the road.
“Here we are everyone!” enthused Mr Goodman. “This is
Raithnett Glass Factory. It is famous all over the world for its glass
products. Glass is blown into vases, bowls and other beautiful objects. It also
has a cafeteria where we can have a snack.”
Ella and Prissy were the last ones off the bus. They were
looking a bit down and Carol decided to raise their spirits.
“Come on ladies,” she said as she approached the sisters.
“Let’s see what we can buy in here.” Linking an arm with each of the ladies the
three of them entered the doors of the factory.
I stayed outside to enjoy a cigarette. I didn’t smoke a lot
but I savoured the few I did smoke.
It was a warm day and the air was full of the sound of bees
buzzing and birds’ cries. The sky was blue with little puffy white clouds
drifting along. Idyllic with nothing to spoil it, when….Crash!!
The sound of glass smashing came from inside the building. I
heard screams and all at once a flow of people began exiting the factory –
quickly. I looked out for Carol, Ella and Prissy but couldn’t see them. What
had happened?
Eventually the flow of bodies slowed then stopped. All was
silent through the doors and myself and the members of the coach tour stood
waiting with bated breath.
“Right ladies,” said a stentorian voice from inside the
factory. “If you would make your way back to your coach please.”
Ella, Prissy and Carol emerged led by two security guards.
Mr Goodman followed wringing his hands and looking thoroughly upset.
“What happened?” I asked Carol when we were walking back to
where the bus was parked.
“Oh, you know, a little problem that got out of hand,” she
said. “Ella picked up a paper weight and after admiring it handed it to Prissy.
Prissy wasn’t watching and she dropped it onto the glass shelf- which broke.
But Ella went to catch the falling paper weight and knocked one of the security
guards who in turn fell through a glass display of vases. Not to be outdone the
glass display smashed into a series of glass shelves displaying glass
decanters.”
“Is that all?” I asked stupidly.
“Is that not enough?” replied Carol angrily.
On our way home, I thought to myself, only another few hours
and I can get down to the pub and play darts with some of the lads. The bus
trip had been a disaster. The poor old biddies, everything they touched seemed
to go awry. Well at least I had had two days with Carol even if I had picked up
some bruises on my arm!
“Can I have everyone’s attention please?” Mr Goodman
shouted. “I’m sorry everything has not gone perfectly today.”
There were a few groans and sniggers from the passengers,
but Mr Goodman soldiered on.
“We will be back in Cherton in a few hours, but I thought
that we would stop at the Skylan Nature Reserve for a few minutes. The flower
displays are beautiful and I feel it might raise our spirits. What do you say?”
No one spoke for a bit then Carol stood up and said.
“We owe Mr Goodman a vote of thanks for this entertaining
(more groans) two days. I for one, think it is a wonderful idea to stop at
Skylan.”
Suddenly everyone was shouting yes and clapping their hands.
Mr Goodman was quite carried away by the response and began to sing the words
to the ‘Happy Wanderer’ to which everyone joined in.
Skylan Nature Reserve was a beautiful spot and as Mr Goodman
said, the flower displays were outstanding with their mixtures of colours and
hues. The sun was shining strongly and it seemed as if all the mishaps that had
befallen the trip had been forgiven. The coach passengers laughed and joked
amongst themselves. Promises to stay in touch were made and addresses
exchanged.
Ella and Prissy were
admiring the flowers and pointing out various species to all who cared to
listen. They laughed aloud at someone’s joke and looked thoroughly relaxed.
The bee that was flying through the fields happened to pick
up the scent of Skylan’s flowers and decided to stop for one more sample of
pollen. It had flown many miles from the hive and it was tired, but it would
manage one more stop. It flew down and alighted on a large hydrangea blossom-
just as Carol bent over to smell the same blossom. The bee panicked due the
proximity of Carol and stung her.
As the bee died so too Carol began to die. She had an
allergy to bee stings and as she fell to the ground her air passageways began
to close up.
“Carol!” I screamed
as I saw her fall to the ground. “What is wrong?”
I knelt down next to her and put my ear to her mouth. She
managed to choke out the word ‘bee’ before her breathing stopped. I jumped to
my feet screaming for medical help. She needed anti histamine right away if her
life was to be saved. The seconds counted. She needed help.
Mr Goodman ran to the bus and got the first aid kit as I
knelt down again and held my lovely Carol in my arms. I must have started
crying for teardrops began to fall on her face.
“There’s no anti histamine!” shouted Mr Goodman. “Why is
there no antihistamine?”
Suddenly everything went quiet. The shouting died away and I
felt as if Carol and I were totally on our own.
“Don’t let her die,” I pleaded. “Please don’t let her die.”
Then there was Prissy and Ella standing by us. Their clothes
gleamed with a radiance and I knew that they were very special.
“Let me take her for a minute, Jack,” whispered Ella and
lifted Carol out of my arms as if she was as light as a feather.
Prissy took a handkerchief out of her bag and laid it over
Carol’s face and then from a small bottle she dripped some golden coloured liquid
onto the cloth.
All this was done in total silence and the whole area had
taken on an ethereal ambience to it. Then came a darkness which swilled around
like inky flood water and swallowed me up.
When I opened my eyes I saw Ella and Prissy standing looking
down at me. I was lying on the grass and the sun was warming me.
“Carol?” I managed to splutter.
“Here I am, my love,” said Carol kneeling down next to me.
“I think you must have fainted. Too much sun.”
“But, you died. I watched you. You were dead,” I was trying
to make sense.
“Now Jack,” said Ella. “You must have been dreaming.”
“No!” I was adamant. “You and Prissy brought her back. I
know you did.”
The coach drew into Cherton and stopped at the bus depot.
The passengers gave Mr Goodman three cheers and sang ‘For he’s a jolly good
fellow’ over and over again until he held his hands up for them to stop.
Carol helped me off the bus and then went back to help Ella
and Prissy down the stairs. I walked over to the two old ladies and I held each
of their hands in mine.
“I don’t care what anyone says, all I know is that you used
magic today and I will always believe that. Thank you, from the bottom of my
heart for giving me back Carol.”
Both ladies blushed furiously and mumbled that they didn’t
know what I was talking about, but that they hoped we would stay in touch with
them to which I whole heartedly agreed.
Later as Carol and I walked home I told her what I
remembered about Ella and Prissy’s ‘magic’ and its effect.
“But Jack, if they are fairies or witches or something
magical why do they have so much bad luck? “Carol asked.
“Well,” I said thinking before I spoke. “I suppose sometimes
bad things happen to good people.”
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