Page 2 of The Golden Girls’ Road Trip

He smiles sheepishly, ducks inside and heads for the CDs. This surprises me and it must show on my face because he laughs and says, ‘For my mum.’

Gita moves quickly away to help Penny-pops’ owner with a purchase and I turn my attention back to Vic.

‘I’m serious, you know. You do not look seventy, my friend. What’s your secret?’ she asks, peering closer at my wrinkles. ‘Drinking the blood of virgins?’

I try not to wince and say, ‘Drinking the heck out of a good Rioja more like.’

‘Are you out tonight?’

‘Yes, meeting Simon and Diana for dinner with Leo,’ I say, and Vic shudders theatrically.

‘Good luck with that. How is the poisoned little witch?’

‘Vic! She’s my daughter-in-law. She’s not that bad and anyway, I’ll find a way to win her over, eventually.’

‘I hate to break it to you, but it’s been eight years already and I don’t think you’re winning.’

I sigh, knowing she’s right, but without any way to rectify the situation.

‘I’ve put by a few bits I thought you might like,’ I say, changing the subject and reaching behind the counter to pull out a carrier bag. ‘There’s a book about train journeys in the UK that I know your dad will love. The pictures are amazing. And there’s a sparkly top for your mum with some bangles. I’ve paid for them; I haven’t just taken them,’ I add, seeing her face drop. But, it seems I’ve misunderstood, because she grabs my hand and squeezes it.

‘Thanks, love,’ she says.

The young man is walking towards us with a stack of CDs.

‘I’d better…’

‘Of course,’ Vic says. ‘See you on Friday morning?’

‘I’ll be there.’

‘Have fun tonight. Just get drunk and ignore the flak.’

I smile at her, but I won’t be able to get drunk because I’m driving. Leo has decided he wants to meet me there for some reason. Simon has chosen a restaurant near their home in Lewes, so I suppose it is easier for Leo to come independently from Pevensey Bay.

‘And give lovely Leo a big kiss from me,’ Vic says and then she’s gone.

*

The closed sign is on the door and we’re tidying up when Sharon arrives at five. Gita has spent the afternoon working on her refit intentions and I’ve been jotting them all down for her. Some are actually pretty good suggestions, but others are dubious. I’m not convinced that Sharon will go for a kids’ ball pit alongside a high-end jewellery display.

Sharon breezes in as if it’s not thirty degrees outside. She’s wearing a white linen dress without a single crease in it and her complexion is clear and cool, nothing like the red sweaty-faced customers appearing in the shop all afternoon. There is definitely something other-worldly about her. As the manager, she takes the shop very seriously, but I sometimes think that no matter how much she says she appreciates what us volunteers do, the truth is, we’re a bit of a nuisance.

‘Ladies,’ she coos, taking a sip of her iced coffee. I recognise the logo from the café up the road and try not to stare at it longingly. ‘Lots to discuss,’ she says. ‘Shall we have a seat in the staffroom?’

This is most definitely a first. I have never been invited to sit down in this shop. Despite the heat, the hairs on the back of my neck begin to prickle.

‘Ooh, yes,’ Gita says. ‘I have ideas.’

‘Ideas?’ Sharon looks confused.

‘About the refit. I think you’re going to love my suggestions.’ Gita has the list clutched to her chest and looks like a child on Christmas morning. I have a very uneasy feeling.

‘Ah, I think we’re at cross purposes,’ Sharon says. ‘Perhaps we ought to go and have a chat.’

2

Heat waves are radiating from the bonnet of my camper van. The paintwork is the colour of raspberry jam with seats, trim and curtains to match. There are cream-coloured cupboards with a sleek black top covering the gas burner and the sink. I even managed to find a carpet with a raspberry stripe running through it. She’s called Ruby and even though my daughter-in-law thinks she’s an abomination, I adore her.