Page 10 of The Golden Girls’ Road Trip

5

I pull my body through the water at a steady pace, a gentle breaststroke under the glare of the sun, the salt water in my eyes. I feel focused and very much like someone who hasn’t spent a sleepless night with churning thoughts. It wouldn’t surprise me, if I were to open my skull to find butter instead of brains.

Swimming has become something to centre me. From the local swimming baths I learned to swim in as a young adult, to lidos and open-water swimming when my confidence grew. No matter where I’ve lived over the years, if there has been a body of water, I have found it and got into it. Now in Brighton, I have the sea, but today, as my feet find the stones, I feel weary.

I turn to look out over the pier and the churning recommences. I’ve lost my job, a grandchild is coming, and after a lifetime as a single woman I have accepted a proposal of marriage. And if I can be honest with myself, I know that I said yes to Leo because of Simon. Not all those years ago when he was a child, when a father would have probably been a wonderful thing for him to have had, but now, ironically, as Simon is on the brink of fatherhood himself, when his dearest wish is to have his mother settled, a grounded granny. But, there is an exhibition in Inverness and it seems that Alex, who’s been living under a rock for fifty-two years, has decided that now is a good time to climb out. I would laugh if I didn’t have a such a huge lump in my stomach.

Turning back to the beach I can pick out the quick camp that I’d made with Victoria, a couple of hours ago. The rented, bright rainbow parasol is stuck into the stones, standing out amongst the many others on the beach today. Despite it being a Friday, people are taking advantage of the continued good weather. Not quite into the school summer holidays yet, it is surprising how many people, like me, are not at work.

‘Cold?’ Vic asks, as I approach, squeezing the salt water from my hair.

‘Freezing! Invigorating though – you should get in there and see for yourself.’

‘You know I would, but I only had my hair done yesterday and I’m not going to ruin Gail’s masterpiece and my cash by getting it wet.’

I laugh and flop down onto my towel, closing my eyes against the blaze of the sun, but I can still feel my friend watching me.

‘You look tired, Connie,’ she says and I can feel the truth of those words, down in my bones.

‘Simon and Diana are having a baby.’ I stretch out, supine, a familiar position from my weekly yoga class. My palms are turned upwards, but the stones underneath my towel are poking me in the back.

‘Wonderful! That’s great news, isn’t it?’

‘They’ve been trying for a long while. This was their fifth IVF attempt, so yes, it is.’

‘And you’re going to be a grandmother at last! How do you feel about that?’ Vic asks. ‘Diana probably won’t make it easy, but you never know, motherhood might soften her up a bit.’ Sitting up, she pulls her linen shirt around her shoulders. ‘God, this sun is too much.’ She drags a floppy, wide-brimmed hat out of her bag and puts it on her head. She’s recently become terrified of premature ageing, but I don’t have the heart to tell her that, at nearly sixty, she’s fighting a battle she should have given more attention to over thirty years ago. I can attest to that.

‘I’m really happy for them, and of course it will be lovely to have a baby in the family.’

‘But…?’ Vic turns her piercing gaze on me again. Long divorced and childless, she has been able to please herself for most of her life, but she had wanted a child once. It hadn’t happened though and she often talks about how she’s going to miss out on being a grandmother.

‘No buts at all – it’s great news. Shall we go and find some better shade and get a drink? I’m parched.’

After stepping off the beach, I buy a bottle of water from the pop-up café by the entrance to the pier, and Vic a smoothie so green it has a hint of the neglected fish tank about it. We make our way along Marine Parade towards Edward Street and Queens Park, gulping noisily as we go, my flip-flops slapping against the hot pavement.

‘I’m off in the van tomorrow,’ I say as we settle on the grass underneath a tree near the pond.

‘Oh really? You running away?’ Vic means it as a joke, but it hits a nerve.

‘I’m retired, haven’t you heard? I can do anything I want.’

‘Oh, that’s what we’re calling it now, are we?’ she says with a smirk. ‘So, where are you going?’

‘I was thinking about going to an art exhibition in Inverness,’ I say, watching Vic’s face for her reaction and she does look surprised.

‘Bit of a trek to see some art. Anyone we know?’

‘Alex Mackenzie: a landscape and portrait artist I used to know.’ I keep my face still and my breathing steady so I don’t betray myself. I can almost see the wheels of Victoria’s mind turning the information over.

‘Alex Mackenzie?’ she repeats. ‘No, I don’t know that name. Any good?’

‘The best,’ I say quickly.

‘Christ, Connie, are you blushing?’ she asks, leaning closer and peering at my face – this doesn’t help. ‘Should I be worried? What does Alex mean to you?’

‘Once upon a very long time ago… everything.’

I can see that all the cogs of her mind have slotted into place, and now I shall have to do some speedy back-pedalling, although it is a bit of a relief to say some of my thoughts out loud for once.