Where Memories Are Made (10 page)

With nowhere to hide himself, Al did the only thing he could think of to lessen the chance of being spotted. He quietly slid his burden down on to the ground then lay flat out himself, hardly daring to breathe. He only just stopped himself from yelling out in shock and fright as out of the darkness he saw the glint of a pair of eyes looking at him. As his heart hammered inside his chest, it took him several long moments to realise the eyes belonged to a fox. Getting up and shooing the animal away, he continued over to the farmhouse. Since then he'd had no further close shaves as he'd been coming and going, and meant to make sure it stayed that way until his need for the farmhouse was over.

Jackie stopped folding pamphlets for a moment to rub her aching wrists. She calculated that there were only about a hundred more left to do out of a batch of three thousand. In two weeks' time they'd repeat the process. They'd have finished this task a long time ago had it not been for the steady stream of staff constantly interrupting them with one thing or another, mostly petty things but enough to threaten the smooth running of the camp. In the last two weeks demands on Jackie's time had meant she'd had to stay late after work several more times, leaving Keith waiting for her, but tonight she was determined that nothing was going to stand in her way and she'd be ready when he arrived to pick her up at a quarter to eight. They were going to his best friend's engagement party, and now that his friend was settling down Jackie was hoping Keith might follow his lead and ask her to marry him.

Thankfully they had no more interruptions and half an hour later the task was done. Al was busy typing envelopes to put cheques inside for payments that needed to go into the post tonight, and Jackie was just getting into a rhythm typing a dozen or so letters to individuals confirming future bookings and receipt of deposits, when a harassed-looking Ginger walked in.

Jackie inwardly groaned. Normally she was glad to see her friend, but she hoped that whatever Ginger needed this time it would take only a second or two to deal with so that Jackie could keep on schedule.

As soon as Ginger told her they had a problem downstairs they needed her help with, Jackie's heart sank. The receptionists only called upon the office staff to help them out when the situation they were facing was serious.

Ginger explained, ‘We've a woman in reception saying it's imperative she speaks to one of our campers who's apparently here on holiday with a friend. She says it's a matter of life or death. I thought it was a bit odd, though, because the name she gave me for the woman she's after is Caldecott, and when I checked our list of who's in what chalet at the moment … thankfully we keep that list in alphabetical order or it would have taken me ages considering we've nearly ten thousand people staying with us at the moment … we haven't got one Caldecott. So she then told me to look under the name Daventry. As it turns out we've got thirty-two Daventrys. Thank God the name wasn't Smith! We've hundreds of them, and Jones, and Browns, and …'

Jackie cut in, ‘I don't mean to be rude, Ginger, but can you get to the point? We're very busy, as you can see.'

‘Oh, right, sorry. Well, I managed to narrow it down to fifteen Daventrys by checking whether the chalets they're in are for two people or four.'

Jackie looked impressed. ‘You missed your calling, Ginger, you should have been a detective.'

The other girl said seriously, ‘I did think it was clever of me.'

Jackie hid a smile and asked her, ‘Have you put out an announcement over the radio, asking for people called Daventry to contact reception?'

‘Well, I did tell the woman I would do that, but she was adamant I wasn't to as she wants to surprise Mrs Daventry. She's given me a photo of her so we know what she looks like.' She handed over the photograph she was holding to Jackie.

‘Seems like a very sweet old lady. Well, I suppose this at least saves you dragging all the Daventrys away from whatever they're doing and coming up to reception so this woman can check if they're the one she's after. That's providing any of them are in their chalet at this time of the day. If not you'll just have to leave a note on the door, asking them to come to reception when they return. Does this woman know she may have a long wait?'

‘She's made it clear she's not budging until she speaks to Mrs Caldecott or Daventry or whoever she is.'

Jackie eyed Ginger in confusion. ‘Well, you seem to have this situation under control, so I'm not sure why you're telling me about it?'

‘Ah, well, it's like this you see, Jackie. It's Rachael's afternoon off and Karen is about to do the afternoon announcements on Radio Jolly and then she's got to visit maintenance and get some chalet keys cut to replace the spare ones we keep to give to campers who have lost theirs. If we don't keep some in, maintenance have to break in and replace the locks. It never ceases to amaze me how many campers either lose or mislay their keys, and some are found in the stupidest of places. Did I tell you about the set that was found …'

‘Ginger, please, get on with it,' Jackie urged.

‘Oh, yes. So anyway that just leaves me manning reception. All the Stripeys not on duty I could have asked to lend a hand, Terry Jones has commandeered to run through several new songs and routines for the show tonight. You know how hot Mrs Jolly is on us putting on good shows so as not to disappoint the campers. Their practice today, checking they're all kicking their legs in time and singing the right words, is very important.'

Jackie then twigged what assistance Ginger wanted from her. ‘Oh, then you're after me to go and knock on all the doors looking for this woman, or pin notes on them if no one is in?'

‘Oh, would you?' she cried in relief, thrusting the photograph of their quarry at Jackie along with a scribbled list of the chalet numbers occupied at the moment by campers called Daventry.

Jackie sighed heavily. It seemed she had no choice. The letters she was typing could wait to be finished off tomorrow. The cheques did need to be sent off tonight but Al had plenty of time to get those ready before the postman called into reception to collect the mail. There were other jobs that couldn't wait until tomorrow, but if she hurried and avoided getting into conversation with any campers she would have time to do them when she got back and still leave work on time this evening. She told Ginger, ‘Yes, of course, I will. The sooner I go, the sooner I can get back.'

Ginger eyed her knowingly. ‘Oh, of course, you're going to Keith's friend's engagement party tonight, aren't you, and hoping it's the night he's going to propose to you? Well, if he doesn't after seeing you in that new dress we went shopping for, then he wants his head examining. You look gorgeous in it.'

Jackie smiled. ‘Thanks.'

Ginger then left her to it. After making sure Al was up to speed with what needed to be done and reminding him not to forget Harold Rose's afternoon drink at three if she herself wasn't back to see to it, collecting a notepad, pen and packet of drawing pins, Jackie left the office. As she headed through reception she caught a glimpse of the woman she was doing this on behalf of. She looked like a Victorian schoolmistress, grim-faced and very prim and proper. As she walked on Jackie wondered what was so important that she'd had to make the journey here and disturb someone's holiday.

Arriving at the first chalet on the list Ginger had given her, Jackie knocked on the door but no one answered. She learned from the neighbours who happened to be sunning themselves in front of their chalet, that the couple were both in their mid fifties, so too young for the white-haired lady in the photograph. She didn't bother leaving a note and carried on to her next port of call. The woman who answered Jackie's knock on the door was not pleased to have been disturbed from her afternoon snooze, and even less so when she learned that she had been woken for no good reason. Jackie immediately realised that the woman might be in the right age group but she looked nothing like the one in the photograph. After apologising profusely for disturbing her, Jackie made a hasty escape. This state of affairs continued for the next twelve chalets on the list, all with good distances between them, until a thankful Jackie finally knocked on the last door and the woman she was after opened it to her.

Joyce was no taller than five foot and still showing signs of having been a very pretty woman in her youth. Jackie had obviously caught her about to go out somewhere special as she look extremely smart in a baby blue Crimplene two-piece costume, low-heeled cream court shoes on her feet, her snow-white hair tinged with a pink rinse and newly washed and set. On spotting Jackie's Jolly's staff badge, she smiled welcomingly at her. Assuming she knew what Jackie was calling about, she said, ‘Oh, you are kind, dear, coming in person to tell us our taxi is here. It's half an hour early, though. Still I suppose it's better than not turning up at all.' She called behind her, ‘Roger, put your shoes and jacket on. A very nice young lady is here to tell us our taxi is waiting.'

Jackie told her, ‘But I haven't come to tell you your taxi is here, Mrs … er … just to confirm … you are Mrs Daventry, aren't you?'

‘No, dear, I'm Mrs …' The woman suddenly stopped when she realised what she was about to say and quickly switched it to, ‘Yes, of course I'm Mrs Daventry. If you've not come to tell us our taxi is here, what are you calling on us for?' She then asked worriedly, ‘He hasn't called to say he isn't coming, has he?'

Jackie told her, ‘I'm sorry, I know nothing about your taxi. I've called to tell you that you have a visitor … a lady … wishing to speak to you back in reception. I can't tell you her name either, I'm afraid, as she wouldn't give it. Said she wanted to surprise you. It is strange though as, at first, she asked to speak to Mrs Caldecott, then she changed it to Mrs Daventry. She doesn't seem to know what your name is.'

To Jackie's shock a look of abject horror crossed the old lady's face, which simultaneously drained of colour until it resembled parchment. Jackie had to leap forward to catch hold of her before she collapsed to the floor as her legs began to buckle beneath her.

On hearing the commotion, still in the process of pulling on his suit jacket, a bewildered Roger Daventry appeared in the doorway. Jackie was struggling to keep the old lady upright while she manoeuvred her inside so she could get her seated. With surprising strength, the wiry, elderly man threw aside his jacket then scooped Joyce up in his arms and carried her over to one of the beds, gently lowering her down on to it. Jackie followed him.

A moment later Roger was holding a glass of water to Joyce's lips, encouraging her to sip from it. Assuming he knew why she had almost fainted, he told Jackie, ‘It's the excitement, it's proved too much for her. She'll be all right in a minute.' He then urged Joyce, ‘Come on, love, take a sip, it'll make you feel better.' He turned to Jackie. ‘Do you think you could go and ask the driver to wait for us? I'm sure Joyce will be as right as rain in a few minutes.'

Before she could respond, Joyce seemed to rally a little and uttered, ‘Not here … taxi.'

Roger urged her, ‘What was that, dear, I didn't understand you?'

Joyce was now trying to take small sips of water from the glass he was holding so Jackie answered for her. ‘I haven't come about the taxi but to tell you …'

‘She's here, Roger, she's found us!' Joyce blurted out.

He stared back at her, frozen-faced. ‘But … but … she can't have! We were so careful. I never told any of my family or friends … never breathed a word to anyone of our plans. You didn't either did you, Joyce, like we decided, so we wouldn't risk jeopardising everything?' When he saw the guilty flash in her eyes he exclaimed, ‘Oh, Joyce, who did you tell?'

Wringing her hands together, distraught, she uttered, ‘Only Harriet. She's been our ally through it all. We would never have got this far without her. I knew she'd be worried if I just disappeared without a word. I swore her to secrecy and she promised me faithfully she wouldn't breathe a word.'

He heaved a deep sigh, running one hand through his tidily combed hair and dishevelling it. ‘Well, she obviously did, and we know who to.'

Joyce urged, ‘Harriet would never have told Clarice our whereabouts. Not unless she had absolutely no choice.'

‘I know that, love. But once she realised you were gone, Clarice would not have let up on Harriet until she got the information out of her. Knowing you as Clarice does, she would have realised you would tell your best friend.' He looked at a puzzled Jackie whose brain was thrashing as she tried to work out just what was going on. ‘I know it's not right to ask you to do this, my dear, but could you tell Clarice she's made a mistake and there is no one of Joyce's description staying here?'

Joyce interjected, ‘We can't ask the young lady to do that, Roger, it's not fair to put her in such a position.'

He looked shame-faced. ‘No, you're right. I'm sorry.'

Joyce then said to Jackie, ‘You must be wondering what on earth you've walked into, dear. But of course you are, it's only natural. Please don't worry. We aren't murderers or bank robbers, but we are here in hiding.' As Jackie looked at her, intrigued, Joyce went on, ‘The woman in reception is Clarice, my daughter. All Roger and I want to do is be allowed to spend what days we have left together, but she is determined that is not going to happen.'

Frowning, Jackie asked, ‘But why would your daughter want to stop you from being happy?'

Joyce drank the remains of the water, passed the empty glass to Roger, then wrung her hands together in her lap as she told Jackie, ‘Because she thinks it's disgusting a woman of my age getting married again. That's where the taxi is going to take us this afternoon, to the register office in Skegness, to get married at four-thirty.' Joyce heaved a forlorn sigh before she continued. ‘My husband was a decent man. He was good to me, we were happy and had a lot of fun together. When he died ten years ago I missed him dreadfully. I was so lonely, rattling around the house by myself, having no one to share my life with. But I did my best to get on with it, like other widows have to. Then six months ago I met Roger and everything changed. He brought fun and happiness back into my life.'