Page 2 of The Trip of a Lifetime

Well over an hour later, she was at the railway station to find the whole of the crew and contestants had been on the only train departing to Barcelona that morning. She would have to wait until three that afternoon for the next one.

She had been deceived, and when she collected herself enough to return to the hotel to confront the porter, all he could say before he scurried away was, ‘I’m so sorry, señorita. He paid me to tell you that.’

1

MARTHA

London, 2026

I poured water into each of the house plants that lined my kitchen windowsill and glanced down to the street below. I ran a cloth across my perfectly clean worktop and looked at my watch. I opened and closed the door of my empty dishwasher then picked my phone up to check for non-existent messages. Erin was late and I was getting twitchy.

It would take my granddaughter fifteen minutes to walk to my flat in Shoreditch from the station and Erin had already messaged to say which train she was on. She was officially ten minutes late now.

I walked over to the large window behind my dining room table, the one that had swung the sale of this flat. The amount of light that came through the floor-to-ceiling window made apartment living so much more palatable. I just hadn’t been sure when I was viewing it ten years ago, but now it was as much home as any of the houses I had lived in during my life. It helped that the walls were lined with my beloved books and ornaments, my plants and pieces of art.

There was a space above the oak sideboard where I hung family photos but recently, I had begun to wonder if it was becoming a bit of a shrine to my daughter, Clare.

Erin once told me that the colourful cushions and throws on my sofas and the huge boho, patchwork rug that took up most of the living room floor, gave me an air of the unconventional, but she looked bemused as she’d said it, as if she couldn’t quite place her slightly staid grandmother in that arena.

‘It’s not a film set,’ I had said indignantly. ‘I did choose and buy all of this, you know.’

I glanced out to see if Erin had walked around the back of the property, past the shops, and that was when I heard the buzz of the intercom.

‘It’s me, Nana,’ Erin said when I answered and I released a long breath as I let my granddaughter in.

The reason for the delay, it turned out, had been a bouquet of flowers that Erin had stopped to buy, and I spent a while arranging them in a vase as she told me all about the shipment of hand-painted compact mirrors that had arrived that morning. Her tone was as flat as my interest and to my shame, I sighed. I’d had much higher hopes for my granddaughter than the giftshop she worked in. Yes, it was in the pretty town of Henley where she lived but it couldn’t possibly fulfil her, could it? Erin chose easy options and didn’t push herself. Of course, I wouldn’t say this to her. The very last thing I wanted to do was to alienate myself from my only and much-beloved grandchild. And since we had lost Clare – Erin’s mother – just fourteen months ago, I bent myself backwards to say and do the right thing. Erin was carrying a world of pain; she just didn’t recognise it yet.

‘Oh, you have post,’ Erin said, handing over a large envelope from her bag. Erin always checked my post-box in the hallway before she came up.

The letter, when I slid it out, was like a sharp slap across the face. My eyes moved over the words from the recognisable logo at the top of the page to the personal message written to me below.

‘My goodness,’ I said when I finished reading and sat down heavily on one of my dining chairs. ‘That’s a huge blast from my past.’

‘What is it?’ Erin asked me in almost a whisper. ‘Not bad news?’

‘No, darling,’ I said, quickly gathering myself together. ‘Not bad at all, just an incredibly unexpected invitation.’

I handed the letter to Erin and walked over to the kitchen to put the kettle on, although this sort of bombshell surely required something much stronger than Earl Grey.

Erin began reading out loud and I retraced my steps to listen.

‘“Dear Martha, we hope this letter finds you well.”

‘I hate that opening,’ Erin said, interrupting herself. ‘I always want to respond with a no, actually, it finds me pissed off and utterly miserable.’

She stopped to glance at me, shrugged and continued. ‘“It’s been fifty years since you raced in our inaugural Trip of a Lifetime© TV show. A lot has happened during that half-century and we at Arcade TV have moved with those times, bringing cutting edge television shows to our audience. You may be aware that after a hiatus during the eighties and nineties, we were back with a similar format in the early noughties. After another break we feel now is the time to resurrect the Trip of a Lifetime© and what could be more perfect than to have all of the original contestants race again for the half-century special series.

‘“We are well aware that you all have fifty years on your younger selves and while we are sure you must be very fit and healthy – we certainly hope so – we propose you race with a friend, a family member or companion.

‘“What do you say, Martha? Are you with us?

‘“So far we have managed to track down three of you five originals but we will endeavour to have a full house before filming begins in May.

‘“You will find a passcode at the bottom of this letter and if you go to the website listed, you can use it to access the original recording of your Trip of a Lifetime© from our archives.

‘“If it helps to sway your decision, we would like to tell you that the prize money reflects that half-century and is £50,000 for the first contestants over the finish line.

‘“We so look forward to hearing from you, Martha.