Page 85 of The Trip of a Lifetime

One round of the people seated yielded nothing, not even a lift to the terminal. Then Erin tried again when some people came back from eating in the restaurant. One man offered to get them to the terminal, but he wasn’t going anywhere near St John’s. She kept asking those that she hadn’t already and just as she was about to give up, she found a woman, sitting alone. She looked to be in her fifties and was reading a paperback book. Erin didn’t really want to disturb her but she was desperate to go back to her grandmother with good news.

‘Hello. I’m so sorry to bother you but my grandmother and I are trying to get to St John’s. I don’t suppose you’re going that way, are you?’

The woman lowered her book and laid it down in her lap. Erin thought she was bound to say no, especially after the interruption. Wasn’t it the rule that you never talk to someone when they’re reading?

‘That’s exactly where I’m going,’ she said, and she didn’t seem annoyed at all. ‘I can give you a ride if you want.’

‘Really?’ Erin said. ‘If you could, we’d be so grateful. We’re in a race on a TV show. It’s the final leg and we’re in with a chance of winning. A lift would make all the difference.’

‘Well, then, it’s your lucky day. I’m Clare,’ she said.

‘Erin,’ she managed. ‘And my grandmother is Martha.’

Erin took hold of the back of the nearest seat for support as her legs felt a bit weak all of a sudden.

‘Come and find me in the morning, Erin, and we can have some breakfast together, talk about plans. It’s nice to meet you.’

‘You too,’ Erin said. ‘And thank you so much.’

Then before she cried in front of this woman, she walked away to find a quiet place to be for a moment. The woman was called Clare. How on earth was she going to tell this fact to Martha? Erin felt both overwhelmed and a bit ridiculous. What did it matter that this woman was called Clare? Except she knew the answer was, everything.

Her grandmother was still reading when she got back. She had a wistful smile on her face and in that moment, Erin wondered if she could get away with not telling Martha the name of their lift share saviour. There was no way Martha wouldn’t find out but Erin decided to leave it until they introduced themselves at breakfast. Erin wanted to try and go to sleep. She didn’t want a Martha-style trip down memory lane. Just the thought made a sense of overwhelm begin to develop again. Usually, her urge to get up and find somewhere else to be, to take flight when Martha began to reminisce, was huge. After their chat she didn’t feel quite so much like that, but then Martha hadn’t been pushing her agenda and Erin did see it as an agenda. Get Erin talking about her mother. Well, she had now, but in the back of her mind, it was her grandmother who needed to find some closure, some peace. She talked about Clare but Erin suspected she wasn’t really listening to her own words.

‘I’ve got us a lift,’ she said quietly as she sat down beside her grandmother.

‘A lift to the terminal, to get the taxi?’

‘No, a lift all the way to St John’s. A woman travelling alone.’

‘Amazing!’ Martha reached out a hand and squeezed Erin’s shoulder. ‘Wonderful girl,’ she said. ‘What’s her name?’

‘I forgot to ask,’ she said, inwardly wincing as she lied.

‘Oh, Erin.’

‘Never mind, it’s all sorted. I’m going to try and get some sleep. We’re meeting her for breakfast before we dock.’

‘Okay, ’night, love,’ Martha said and returned to her book.

Erin tried to cosy down in her seat and closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come. It felt like they were inching closer to a place Erin wasn’t ready to visit. A place that made the finish line in this race seem like a done deal, like they could just stroll up and know they had won. This other place was so far out of reach to Erin it just felt insurmountable. Literally as if the tallest mountain in the world stood between it and her and she’d never be able to climb it. But it wasn’t about Erin now, it was about Martha. What if her grandmother went to a place where Erin couldn’t reach her? Who would she have then?

Two hours after she had said goodnight to her grandmother she still wasn’t anywhere close to sleep. Martha had long nodded off, the book still open in her lap. Erin slipped it out from under her hand and was going to mark the page and close it, but something made her turn to the first page and begin to read.

37

MARTHA

I was amazed I had managed to get any sleep at all. The ferry was hardly the quietest or the darkest of places and yes, the seats were very comfortable as seats but as a place to sleep, not so much. And yet, I had somehow slept. Maybe it was the fact we had a lift waiting for us. The thought of that must have made me very content.

Erin found the woman sitting at a table in the café. She had a cup of tea and a plate of scrambled eggs on toast in front of her. It made my stomach rumble. This woman was the reason we could afford a nice breakfast.

‘Erin,’ she called and waved to us.

So, Erin had introduced herself then. We walked over to her and she got up. I stuck out my hand and smiled.

‘I’m Martha,’ I said. ‘And you are the woman who might have quite literally saved us.’

‘AKA Clare,’ she said, and I had to take just a moment.