Page 52 of The Golden Girls’ Road Trip

We drive out of Bristol towards the M5 and the van feels good. Julie at the garage gave me a list of the tweaks she’d made and the fuel gauge now indicates the amount of petrol we actually have. If Ruby can just get us down to Cornwall and back to Brighton, I’ll be happy for now.

Alex finally admits to a hangover when she begs me to take her to a drive-through McDonald’s at the services. Then we eat as we drive, the windows down, the radio on and Alex sighing with pleasure at the benefits of a greasy breakfast, while slipping titbits of her bacon to Bardo who’s abandoned the back seat in favour of the food up the front.

We have a painting to drop just outside Bridgwater, and I get her to look up where I can buy some wool while we’re there.

‘I like being on the road,’ Alex says as we pass the sign for Clevedon and Nailsea.

‘You don’t miss the Highlands? I thought you were welded to that place.’

‘I love home and I won’t deny it, but I’m happy to be on the road with you, Con,’ she says, and then turns to look out through the open window. I’m glad she can’t see the huge smile on my face and I try hard to get rid of it before she turns back.

The house is just outside the town centre on a new-build estate. I don’t know why this surprises me, but it does. Alex directs me off the main road and into the maze of houses. There’s an eclectic mix of properties, all built with an attractive use of something similar to Bath stone. We end up in a small close of six identical houses. They’re all large with double garages and pristine front gardens.

‘Number three,’ Alex says and I pull over. There is nothing but fields beyond this cul-de-sac and it’s eerily quiet. ‘She’s a wedding planner and events organiser,’ Alex says as she rummages for the painting. ‘We’ll probably have a coffee if you want to disappear and get your wool. I’ll keep Bardo with me so you can do your own thing. Clarissa won’t mind.’

‘That sounds like a great idea.’

‘And then if we keep to the two-hour rule, we can stop in Bude for a meal. Perhaps you can look up somewhere special?’

‘Fish and chips on Summerleaze Beach,’ I say, and watch as her face drops. ‘Alex, we don’t need to eat in fancy restaurants and, besides, I didn’t get my fish and chips in Wales, so I’m definitely getting them in Cornwall.’

‘Okay, okay,’ she says, climbing out of the van with the largest painting. I get out to help her.

‘What’s that one?’ I ask.

‘Loch Lomond,’ she says, but I can’t remember seeing it.

‘We need to talk properly about your money situation,’ I say, and she turns to give me a sharp look.

‘Do we indeed?’

I laugh at the expression on her face and decide, in that moment, that I’m going to give her back my painting. It might not make a huge difference to what is owed or what she wants to keep, but it might help a little bit, especially if she tries to sell the two together.

‘You can’t put me off with that face,’ I say, provocatively. ‘Not now.’ For a second I think about walking those four steps there are between us and kissing her, but I hesitate, lose my nerve and she’s turning, and then walking away. She calls over her shoulder that an hour would be good, and then she disappears up the pathway to the front door, Bardo trotting obediently beside her. I drive away feeling a bit bereft and a little like I haven’t got her yet, not really, not properly. It’s exactly how I felt fifty-two years ago, but can you ever really have Alexandra Mackenzie?

*

The wool shop is quiet, and I chat to the woman serving for a few minutes as my eyes roam over the colours. I tell her about the baby blanket and how I’m travelling with my artist girlfriend into Cornwall to deliver the last of her paintings. She doesn’t seem at all fazed at the mention of a girlfriend and for the first time I realise I will be introducing Alex to my family as exactly that. I wonder what Simon will think. I worry that he’s so attached to Leo that he won’t accept any other scenario.

I buy a couple of balls of wool, breaking my only one in each place rule, a soft peach and an ochre colour. This baby’s blanket is going to either be lovely by the time I’ve finished with it, or an amateurish mess. Stepping outside again I see a newsagent’s over the road and decide to buy some sweets for the journey. The sun is warm on my face. The slight breeze lifts the hair from my neck and I pull it back into a bun. It feels so good to be alive. It’s as if this part of my life has opened up again with possibilities. I pop in and buy some fudge and a box of shortbread for Simon and Diana. I suddenly very much want to be part of their lives. Not the peripheral figure hovering at the edges, which I’ve become the last few years. I can’t blame Leo – he’s struggling with his own emotions and, really, he is a good man. But, it has become incredibly clear to me over the last few days that he is not what I want. I want Alex, or certainly I want me, the person I am when I’m with her. The question is: do I need her to achieve that and does she want me? I buy her a stick of rock while I’m in the shop as a silly gift and then I get back in the van to go and pick her up. My stomach is bubbling with anticipation for this next part of our journey.

My phone rings as I pull back onto the driveway of the big house. Alex is standing outside talking to the owner, the wedding planner. I watch her in full conversational flow. She looks every inch the professional as she talks animatedly with Clarissa. You wouldn’t know she’s in a financial mess, has stolen her own artwork and is now homeless. I suddenly want to heal her. I want to take away the physical pain she’s in and resolve her financial situation too. She could come and live with me in Brighton. She could paint and I could look after us. Maybe all she needs is to know that someone is there for her. When I arrived in Scotland, I had nothing and was in a bit of a mess. Alex put me back together then and now, I want to do the same for her.

‘Hello,’ I say distractedly into the phone without looking at the screen.

‘Mum,’ Simon says. ‘Where are you?’

‘Bridgwater,’ I say with a chuckle. Simon doesn’t change at all. There’s a silence and then his voice comes again with a quiet urgency.

‘Good, not too far away then.’

‘What’s up, Simon? Is everything okay?’

‘Mum, it’s Grandma. She’s at the end of her life and I know you probably don’t want to, but I’d really like you to come. She’s in a nursing home in Kent and they really don’t think she has long. I’ve got that bloody sales meeting in Prague tomorrow; I think it’s time for you to step up.’

I watch Alex give the woman a warm hug and then turn towards the van, waving at me in what seems to me to be such a tender gesture. I hear the silence on the phone and try to gather my thoughts.

‘Who?’ I say, my brain not comprehending.