Destination India (6 page)

I nodded as if I knew what the hell she was going on about. ‘Anyway, how are you?’

‘Fine fine, getting used to this retired life has been a bit of an adjustment.’ She flashed a bright smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

‘You know you could have stayed working here?’ I said.

When we first decided to launch Lonely Hearts Travels, Trisha had still been running her Making Memories tours but we quickly overtook her loyal base of clients and merged the two together to create Young At Heart. Pitched as small groups to European destinations where solo mature men and women could experience one of our less lively but still as wonderful tours that Kelli liked to call Randy Retirees. So far it had really taken off with retired over sixties looking to spend their children’s inheritance on treating themselves to travel. Trisha still popped in every
so often but her visits were a rare and delightful surprise rather than routine.

She patted my hand; I was taken aback by how translucent her wrinkled hands were next to mine. ‘I know, but this is yours and Ben’s baby now.’ I blushed. ‘You know what I mean!’ She laughed. ‘It is looking so good in here; Kelli was just telling me how busy you have all been. I think she was hoping for a pay rise.’ Trisha winked.

‘Wouldn’t we all.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘So have you started any new hobbies then? When my dad retired it seemed like he suddenly sprouted green fingers.’

Trisha shook her head. ‘Not me, I can barely keep cacti alive. I have been reading a lot more and catching up with friends now that I have more time on my hands.’ The way she said this was as if it was more a chore than a freedom. ‘I’m sure I’ll find my feet soon.’

She smiled brightly and began flicking through one of our brochures when a thought suddenly came to me.

‘Trisha, what are you doing on the twenty-seventh?’

She looked up. ‘Nothing. Why?’

‘How about coming out of retirement for a while?’

Nescience (n.) Lack of knowledge; ignorance

‘So, did you say a fond farewell to lover boy?’ Shelley pretended to smooch a cushion as she watched me repack my backpack in my small lounge.

‘Hmm, more of a see-you-in-a-few-weeks-oh-colleague,’ I replied, thinking how tense the past two weeks of work had been. I’d purposely tried to avoid any conversations about India, knowing I’d overstepped some invisible line between us. ‘I don’t get it. OK so yeah, I did spring this whole travelling to India idea on him, thanks to you.’ I shot Shelley a look. ‘But
he
was the one who said he thought I should go. That it was for the best
we
had a break from each other.’ My stomach skipped remembering the look in his eyes as he’d told me that, disappointment etched on his tired features.

‘Well, he’s probably feeling slightly jealous.’ Shelley shrugged.

I looked up at her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘He loves to travel; you knew that from the moment you met him.’ I thought back to the collection of postcards sent from exotic destinations all around the world when I first stepped foot in Trisha’s travel agency. I’d nosily read these postcards written by a guy called Stevie, Trisha’s godson, without knowing Stevie was Ben Stevens. ‘He’s probably just sulking that he can’t go to India with you,’ she offered.

‘Maybe,’ I said slowly. It was true he probably did feel like his wings had been clipped since taking on the business. There were times when I’d spot him looking through our brochures and gazing at pictures of idyllic beaches and remote jungles, but whenever I asked him about it he would snap his head up, plaster on a smile and tell me he didn’t regret a thing about starting the business. I just wished that he’d added ‘with you’ on the end of that sentence.

‘Right, I reckon we finish up here and head to the pub,’ Shelley said jumping to her feet.

‘I dunno, I’ve still not checked I’ve got everything I need.’ I nodded at my half-filled bag.

‘Pfft, we’re going for two weeks. All you need is a couple of pairs of knickers, a toothbrush and your passport.’ Our passports had been returned just this morning, complete with Indian tourist visas; I could have cried with happiness when Kelli signed for them. ‘Come on, Miss Spontaneous, let’s go and have a drink – get us in the mood for tomorrow’s journey!’

Walking into the dim light of my local pub, hearing the jingly tones of the fruit machine and breathing in stale cigarette air masked by bleach, I remembered why I hardly ever came here. But it was cheap, close to home and the locals were friendly enough. With Shelley putting our order in at the bar, I sat down on one of the grubby seats and got my phone out. Trisha had been thrilled to be back working in the shop whilst I was away, and Ben had seemed pretty happy too. It solved the problem of finding a temp and meant I knew everything would be looked after in Trisha’s very capable hands. I know I was only going to be away for two weeks, but a lot could change in that time. I was just scrolling through my emails, making sure I’d forwarded everything I needed over to the pair of them, when someone called my name.

‘Georgia?’ I looked up to see Mike, Marie’s boyfriend, grinning down at me.

‘Oh hi! How are you?’ I said, smiling at his paint-splattered overalls. ‘You just finished work?’

‘Yep, nothing gets past you, does it!’ He smiled as Shelley walked over holding two pints of cider. ‘Oh hiya, Shelley, how are you?’

‘Ah, it’s Mike right?’ Shelley asked, carefully placing the pints on the rickety table. Mike nodded. ‘It’s great to see you again; God, the last time was at Georgia’s launch party, wasn’t it?’

‘Time flies hey?’ Mike laughed.

‘You can say that again; so how’s little Cole doing?’

‘Great, thanks. He’s slowly learning the joys of using a potty.’ Mike grimaced and sat down sloshing some of his pint on the floor as we moved our chairs around the table. ‘Anyway, what are you both up to? Georgia, you never come in here!’

‘Well we’re off to India tomorrow so thought we’d get in the mood and have a quick drink,’ Shelley said proudly. I still hadn’t told anyone; it wasn’t like when I jetted off backpacking round Thailand last year. This trip was purely business. Get in, find Nihal, sort out the problem and get out again.

Mike’s eyes widened. ‘Whoa, Marie never told me that. How exciting!’

‘Yeah, it was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing,’ I said, not adding the fact that we’d been pissed on expensive, super-strength rum at the time. ‘Is she about?’ I craned my neck around the empty pub to try and track down my best friend.

‘She’s just dropping Cole at her mum’s; we’re having a night off from scooping up poo and wiping wet patches from the floor, thank God.’ Mike laughed and glanced at his watch. ‘She should be here any sec –’

Right on cue, Marie walked in – her green eyes darted around the gloom of the pub until they found us. ‘Oh my God, Georgia!’ A huge grin broke on her face as she ran over and squeezed me tight. ‘You never come out; what are you doing here? I haven’t heard from you in ages.’

I winced. ‘I’m so sorry I’ve just been …’

‘Busy, yeah, yeah, I know. Well the odd text back would be nice,’ she said before shaking her head. ‘Anyway, how are things?’

‘Marie!’ Shelley’s voice boomed making Marie jump. ‘How you doing, chick?’

Marie almost stumbled back in surprise. ‘Shelley, what are you doing here? I thought you were going round Europe?’

‘Yeah, I was. Managed to Interrail round a few places but then Manchester sort of stole my heart.’

‘Yeah, Manchester and Jimmy,’ I teased.

‘Ben’s best mate? The beefcake?’ Marie asked.

‘Yep, that’s the one.’ I laughed.

‘So what are you up to? Having a girly night in the pub together?’ The question was light enough but I could sense Marie bristling slightly.

‘Yeah kinda. We decided to sod the packing and come and get a few drinks in us in preparation for tomorrow.’ Shelley grinned.

‘Packing? Tomorrow?’ Marie repeated.

‘Did Georgia not tell you? We’re off to India!’ Shelley wrapped her arm around my shoulder and squeezed me.

‘India?’ Marie echoed. I nodded. ‘Ah, great,’ she said in a tone that sounded very un-great. ‘No, erm, she didn’t say.’

Shelley didn’t pick up on the faux-friendly tones and continued to babble on. ‘Yeah, flying into Delhi and then maybe have a little trip around, take in the sights, head over to Bollywood before catching some sun on a beach in Goa.
Lord knows this Aussie bird needs a good dose of vitamin D.’ She laughed, rubbing her freckled forearms.

Mike stood up to give Marie a peck on the cheek and a small glass of wine, which she almost necked in one.

‘You … you’re going to Bollywood?’ Marie faced me.

‘Pretty cool, huh?’ Mike chipped in.

Marie turned to him. ‘So you knew about this?’

‘Only just heard before you got here, babe,’ Mike said, putting his hands up defensively and making a speedy exit back to the bar, mumbling something about buying a bag of pork scratchings.

‘Right, great, well I hope you have a fantastic time,’ Marie said through gritted teeth. Shelley must have picked up on the tension between us and hurried off to the fruit machines.

‘I’m sorry for not calling you before now. I’ve been meaning to call you for ages,’ I said quietly.

‘Mmmm.’ Marie gulped her drink and avoided eye contact. ‘Well my number’s not changed.’

An old man hacking up a load of phlegm and the repetitive tinny music from the fruit machines were the only sounds breaking this awkward silence that had settled around us.

‘So, Bollywood, huh?’

‘Marie, it’s not like that.’

‘Oh really?’ She whipped her flaming red hair towards me, put a hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes. ‘Tell me, Georgia, what
is
it like?’

‘Well, you’d actually laugh about it,’ I said, rolling my eyes at how the trip to India had even come about.

‘You think this is funny?’ I stopped smiling and looked to the floor. ‘You want to know something funny?’ By the look of her pinched mouth I wasn’t sure that I did. ‘I encourage my best friend to go off backpacking after being a jilted bride; I was there fully supporting her, helping her
to get over the really shitty thing that had happened to her. And what do I get in return?’

‘Wait I –’

‘No you wait. If I don’t say this now when will I get the chance again?’ I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat that had suddenly risen.

‘I understand that you’re busy with work but I
never
hear from you; you never return my calls or answer my texts. Then I randomly walk in here for a drink with my boyfriend and see you and your cool backpacking friend sitting here laughing. Only to find out that you and her are jetting off to India tomorrow, to a place I’ve always wanted to go. I mean, fucking Bollywood! Did it not occur to you that maybe, just maybe, your actress friend would want to experience that with you? Or are you too busy being backpacker businesswoman Georgia to notice?’ Her eyes filled with tears but she blinked them back.

‘Marie, I’m sorry. I understand that it might look like this from your perspective, but trust me, it’s nothing like that.’ I placed my hand on my chest feeling like I wanted to cry too.

‘Is this because I’ve got a kid? Or because I’m just working as a mobile hairdresser? Not cultured enough or fancy enough for you now?’

‘No!! Of course it’s nothing to do with that. I’m sorry for being a crap friend; I’ve just had a lot going on but as soon as I get back I’ll make this up to you, I promise.’

She continued to glare at me. ‘It might be too late then.’ With that she turned on her heel and got lost in the pub.

I should have raced after her, apologising to her for being a shitty friend recently, but the truth was I was tired. Tired of messing things up, tired of having people tell me they were worried about me, tired of letting people down and feeling their disappointment.

I was tired of it all.

Drawn (adj.) Tense; fatigued

We’d overslept. I must have cancelled the three alarms I’d set on my phone as the sound of the pre-booked taxi impatiently beeping its horn woke me with a start.

‘Shit! Shell, get up; we are really fucking late!’ I jumped from my bed and flung on some clothes before hopping into my shoes.

‘What?! Ah man,’ Shelley cried, tumbling from the sofa to her unsteady feet.

After the bust-up with Marie we’d stayed in the pub until closing time, nursing a bottle of wine as I’d resolved that this trip would be the solution to all my problems. I’d be like Trisha and come back a changed woman. That plan had seemed possible at eleven o’clock last night but wasn’t going quite so well this morning.

My small flat turned into a hive of activity as I raced from room to room chucking last-minute bits and bobs into my bag. I triple checked I’d turned off the heating, locked the windows and hadn’t left the oven on. Not that I could even remember the last time I’d used it but you never could be too careful.

‘We have to go; this taxi fella’s not happy,’ Shelley called from the front door as I did a final scan that I’d unplugged everything. ‘Georgia, come on!’

‘Coming!’ I called back, lugging my backpack onto my back. I had to admit that it did feel nice having it back on.

In the taxi to the airport, driven by the world’s most pissed-off driver, my empty stomach fizzed with anticipation and excitement. Working in tourism I thought I’d always be jetting away to exotic places but I had just been too busy to take any time off. Even though the circumstances weren’t ideal for this trip, at least I got to add another stamp to my passport.

We paid the driver and raced through the packed departures hall, scanning the large boards for our flight. We were so behind schedule it wasn’t even funny.

‘There!’ I pointed. ‘New Delhi – desk twenty-nine to forty-one. Shit, it says the desks are closing in like five minutes! Hurry!’ I raced off as fast as I could with a lumpy, heavy backpack on, leaving a tufted-haired yawning Shelley staggering after me.

‘Good morning. Can I have your passports and tickets please,’ the overly made-up woman at check-in asked. We looked like bedraggled rats compared to her. ‘You’re leaving it a little late, ladies.’ She pursed her glossy, plump lips.

‘Here and here.’ I wheezed and smiled apologetically before passing over my documents as Shelley rustled in her bag for hers.

‘OK, my ticket is here –’ Shelley slapped the piece of A4 paper on the desk ‘– and my passport is …’ Her thin hand rummaged around her slouchy hobo bag. ‘Wait, it’s in here somewhere …’

‘Shelley?’ Watching her arm frantically searching amongst the folds of multi-coloured cotton I felt my stomach clench.

‘It’s in here somewhere. God these bloody bags. Jimmy is always calling me Mary Poppins for the amount of crap
that gets swallowed up in here.’ She smiled tightly and continued to force her hand deep into the inside pockets.

The check-in lady raised a thick, painted-on eyebrow at us – they were painfully
on fleek
– before peering at Shelley’s ticket. ‘Everything OK, Miss Robinson?’

‘Fine,’ Shelley said more breezily than she looked.

‘Shell? You packed it, right?’ A taste of bile caught at the back of my throat watching her grow more panicked with every second that passed without finding it.

‘Miss Robinson, I’m afraid if you do not have your passport you will be unable to travel today,’ the check-in lady unhelpfully reminded us before glancing at a silver watch on her tanned wrist.

‘I understand that.’ Shelley flashed a tight, fake smile at the woman whilst looking as if she was desperately trying to restrain herself from lurching across the desk and punching her.

‘We overslept,’ I said, wanting to fill this tense wait. She nodded and looked us up and down as if that explained everything.

A few moments later Shelley glanced up. The colour had completely faded from her face. ‘It’s … it’s … not here.’

My stomach lurched. ‘No!’ I gasped. I stared at her, desperate for her to break into a huge grin and pull it out of her bag, waving it around saying: ‘Ha gotcha!’ But instead Shelley looked like she was about to cry or pass out or both.

‘Shell? You’re a hundred per cent sure you haven’t got it?’ I started rooting around my own bag in case I had picked it up by mistake. ‘Empty everything out and let’s check again,’ I ordered, much to the disgust of the check-in lady. It had to be here. We simply didn’t have time to head home to search for it
and
make our flight.

‘Ladies. Please hurry. I should have closed check-in five minutes ago,’ Check-in lady hissed, trying to ignore
the mess we were making on the cold, hard floor of the departures hall.

‘It must be here!’ I cried, shaking my bag out as pens and spare socks tumbled to the floor. It was becoming very obvious that Shelley’s passport wasn’t in either of our bags. ‘Check your pockets. Wait – maybe we left it in the taxi? Are you sure you even had it?’

Shelley turned her empty pockets inside out and roughly wiped her eyes. ‘Positive. I put it in the inside pocket of my bag before we went to the pub. I even took this bag with me last night as I was paranoid I’d lose it …’ She trailed off as if thinking about something before jerking her head up. ‘Marie.’

‘What?’ I stopped scrambling on my knees and stared at her. ‘What do you mean Marie?’

‘I mean, I left my bag at the table when you two were talking, well, arguing – remember? Then you both left it unattended after your fight,’ she whispered, biting her bottom lip.

‘What? Well then it could have been anyone in there, couldn’t it?’ I said, feeling faint with the worry bubbling up inside of me. Marie wouldn’t sabotage this trip, would she? Would she?

‘Excuse me, Miss Green?’ Check-in lady barked, pulling me back to the immediate crisis we were dealing with. ‘I need you to go through security right now; your flight will be boarding imminently. Miss Robinson, if you don’t have your passport then you will be unable to fly today.’

I held up a hand to stall for time. ‘Maybe it’s still at the flat? Maybe it fell out of your bag in the pub? Maybe someone’s handed it in? Maybe it’s in the taxi?’ I was clutching at straws and I knew it.

Shelley shook her head sadly. ‘I had it last night and now I don’t.’

‘And you
didn’t
think to check you still had it this morning?’ I was half screeching now as waves of hysteria washed over me. Shelley had to come with me; I couldn’t do this trip alone.

‘I’m so sorry, Georgia. You’re going to have to go without me.’

‘Miss Green, please, if you do not go straight to security I will have to let them know to close the flight without you, without either of you.’

‘OK!’ I snapped. ‘Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s just I can’t believe Marie would do something like that.’

Shelley sniffed loudly. ‘I can. She was so pissed off with you. Maybe this way you would finally remember her and not leave her out in the future.’

I shook my head violently. ‘No, Marie would never do something so crazy and spiteful as this. No way.’

‘Excuse me, Miss Green.’ The check-in lady seethed. ‘Are you travelling today or not?’

‘Is there another flight, maybe a later one that we could get booked onto?’ The woman huffed but looked down at her screen and started angrily tapping at her keyboard.

Shelley turned to me. ‘I really hope you’re right about Marie. At least this way I can go back to yours, do a proper search for it, head to the pub and ask them, call the taxi firm and …’ She trailed off listing all the options we had for her to make this trip and for my best friend not to be responsible for this fuck-up.

‘Yes, good idea. Retrace your steps, find your passport, then fly out later to join me.’

‘Sorry,’ the check in lady interrupted, not looking sorry in the slightest. ‘The later flight is all booked up. The next available flight I could get you on would be next Thursday but it’s coming up at almost double the cost of the flight
you had booked today. That is, if you find your passport by then.’

My heart sank.

Shelley’s face drained of colour. ‘Well that’s that then.’ She sighed, blinking away tears. ‘We’ll have to leave it. I’m so sorry. Will you be OK going by yourself?’

I didn’t have time to answer as the check-in lady had now stood up and logged off her computer. ‘Miss Green, please follow me or neither of you will be heading to India.’

‘I’m going to have to be.’ I sniffed and quickly pulled Shelley into a hug. ‘Call me as soon as you find your passport.’

She nodded. ‘Be safe, Georgia, and good luck!’ she called behind me as I raced to keep up with the woman striding ahead in her shiny black court shoes.

This would be fine. Fine. I swallowed back the bile that burned my throat. Wouldn’t it?

I was rushed through security, raced down the never-ending bright corridors and half tumbled into my seat, wheezing and out of breath. I nervously stared out of the small aircraft window as they ran through the safety announcement, hoping beyond hope that Shelley would miraculously turn up and take the seat next to me. However, once the doors were pulled shut there was no chance. I was now on my own. There was no turning back.

All the other passengers around me were excitedly chatting about their travels, the friends and family they were meeting or the places they were going, but all I could think was how I was going to survive. I let myself cry thinking of what lay ahead of me, ignoring the strange looks I was receiving. How was I going to face travelling round this enormous country by myself? Being
spontaneous comes with its downsides. This was all Shelley’s idea and now she wasn’t even here to help me.

I thought back to the way Marie had looked at me last night, how hurt and angry she was. She couldn’t have hidden Shelley’s passport; she would never do something so spiteful and stupid, would she? A small voice piped up in my head:
She would if she wanted to teach you a lesson, let you be this fearless backpacker that she thinks you are
.

But the truth is, I’m not fearless at all.