It was quite hard to drink brandy when a lot of people were patting you on the back and jostling around the table and taking pictures on their phones, but we managed it, and the heat of the brandy warmed me up again in a very pleasant way.
‘He was here,’ I shouted to the others.
‘Who?’ Anna shouted back.
‘That man. Mr Grumpy. The same man from the train.’
‘No, it couldn’t be,’ Harriet said. ‘Don’t be daft. You’re imagining things.’
I looked around the room again, hoping to see him.
Had I imagined it? Was I losing the plot? Was I seeing a man where there was no one actually there? That was a bit scary. Perhaps all this unfamiliar noise, excitement and too much alcohol had knocked me off balance a bit. Maybe I was hallucinating?
I knocked back the Cointreau and spluttered.
Thank heavens we were going tomorrow.
In the morning, we would get a taxi to the railway station. Then we would change at Ventimiglia and get on to the train for Venice. At the end of our train journey there would be a simple transfer to our boat. Ship. Whatever it was called, and then we would meet up with Harriet’s godmother who was called Evelyn Beauchamp. From what Harriet had told us she was good company but so old that she would probably be pleasantly vague and not want to do much, and we would spend a glorious few days sailing and eating lovely food and admiring the scenery. I liked the sound of that.
11
It took quite some time for us to get out of the karaoke bar and back to the safety of our rooms. People kept coming up to us for pictures of us with our daft little trophy which Arturo had thrust into my hands before he darted off to help the overworked staff behind the bar. People even wanted selfies with us, and we perhaps got a small taste of life as a celebrity. And after a while it was awful; even though everyone was cheerful and happy, the thumps of congratulations were still quite painful. I was sure when they looked at their photos later those people would struggle to remember who we were and why they had taken the picture in the first place.
‘I didn’t expect that,’ I said as we reached the security of our room.
‘Look at the fun we have had. Life is full of surprises, or it can be,’ Anna said. She held the trophy we had just won above her head in triumph and did a little dance.
‘I’m just surprised I can still stand up,’ Harriet said, sinking down onto her bed with a heartfelt sigh. ‘Perhaps coming on this trip was a step too far. Maybe you should have come without me? I mean, at my age and everything. I didn’t mind hopping on and off trains back then when I was young and fit, but now I’m not so sure. I think if anything I’m holding you up.’
‘Nonsense, it wouldn’t be the same without you here. Tomorrow is going to be so easy,’ I said. ‘You made all the arrangements, remember?’
Harriet groaned. ‘I’m trying. My memory is so bad these days I swear I could probably arrange a surprise birthday party for myself. Train to Ventimiglia, change for the train to Milan, change for the train to Venice. It sounds okay when you say it quickly. But I bet it won’t be. I’ll be honest, I’m dreading it.’
Anna put the trophy down in her open suitcase with a definite air of ownership and gave a groan of irritation.
‘Oh, come on, Harriet, buck up a bit, it will be great. You were always the first on every train back then, the one who was up for anything, chasing around in those little shorts. Downing shots, learning how to surf quicker than anyone else. You know the Italian trains run like clockwork. Then by the end of tomorrow we will be on board a lovely, luxurious boat with a free bar and you can lie back and sip cocktails all week if you want to.’
‘The only thing I want is to get this damn support bandage off my knee and go to bed,’ Harriet said, ‘and have a long lie in tomorrow morning.’
‘Hmm, well, I’m afraid you can’t do that,’ I said, looking at the Trainline app on my phone, ‘because our first train leaves Nice just before eight o’clock. So we can then get the 9.10a.m. train from Ventimiglia to Milan.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, I bet Joan Collins doesn’t have to put up with this sort of thing when she comes to the south of France,’ Harriet said furiously, limping off into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her with more than a hint of a slam.
Anna and I looked at each other and she shrugged her shoulders.
‘I don’t suppose Joan Collins has ever been Interrailing either,’ Anna murmured. ‘All the same, we’ve started so we have to finish, and everything will be okay.’
‘I hope so,’ I said. I took a deep breath, knowing the time had come to say something. ‘Look, Anna, it’s all very well pretending we are fighting fit and up to the challenge when we are sitting at home thinking about it, but it’s not quite the same when we are actually doing it. And I think Harriet is really struggling.’
Anna looked uncomprehending. ‘Do you?’
‘I do, and it’s no good telling her to buck up because she used to be able to do things when she was eighteen. It’s making her feel worse.’
‘Oh. I don’t think I realised. I mean, I’m doing okay and I’m the same age as her.’
‘That doesn’t mean anything, Anna. She’s had a lot of health issues; personal things for which you aren’t making any sort of allowance. Arthritis for one. A knee replacement for another. She’s like most people, wanting to pretend that ageing doesn’t make any difference, but it does.’
Anna pouted. ‘Well, it’s not my fault, she should have said something.’
