This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. The ideas and thoughts that follow are pure fantasies. In real life, at the very least they would be unpleasant and probably illegal. Fantasies are like that; daydreams where we can contemplate and imagine the sensations without suffering or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation.
A month previously
"We have to do something Nora," Kathleen Donahue exclaimed, "Otherwise they're never going to get on in life and will probably never marry and we will never see any grandchildren. They're both eighteen and should be courting and socialising but Lorna never goes out and always has her head stuck in a book, usually a text book, would you believe? The only time others come round to our house, and they are all girls, is when they have a project to do together or need her help with schoolwork. She's attractive enough that the boys would be swarming around her if only she'd speak with them and wear attractive clothes instead of the loose baggy stuff that hides what she has. You've already said that Mike's a loner and spends most of his free time in the garden shed playing with his railway stuff so something drastic is needed to shake them out of the rut."
"I agree we need to do something but is thrusting them together going to help?" Nora Feldman queried.
"At least they'll have to interact with each other and even if nothing comes of it as far as a relationship between them goes, it may help them to make friends and socialise when they go to college."
"But we almost telling them to have sex..."
"That won't hurt either. I put Lorna on the pill months ago just in case something happened but nothing has, and I'm sure they've seen what to do on their computers. As long as they think they are going on a holiday alone, we should be able to convince them to take a short break now that school for them is finished. We can pretend it is a gift for doing well at school. Once they are on the aircraft, they'll know we arranged it but by then it will be too late."
Looking down the line of passengers waiting to check-in ahead of me, I saw a figure I recognised. "That's Lorna Donahue and her mother, I wonder why mum didn't mention she intended to travel to the airport today? I could have saved the train fare if I'd travelled with them, not that it would have been pleasant sitting in a car with the stuck-up bitch. In this queue they must be going to Newquay too." Watching from my semi-hidden position behind others waiting to check in, a further surprise awaited me, Lorna's mother hugged her and sent her in the direction of departures and then headed out of the concourse. Lorna appeared reluctant to leave and I could see tears in her eyes as she slowly walked to the departure lounge. "Strange. She's going alone? I'm going alone. Coincidence? Or maybe she has relations there? Odd. And why did mum insist dad agree with her, that I take a holiday on my own? To get to know other young people, they said and to learn to do things for myself away from my railway. I wonder, no, I bet, they've planned for her and I to get together." I rightly guessed the answer but didn't anticipate the depth of their planning and the closeness of the relationship they expected.
Surprise and puzzlement showed on Lorna's face as I walked passed her and sat some distance away. I could almost read her mind, "What's Michael Feldman doing on this flight?" I'm sure that with her quick, suspicious mind, she, like me, already suspected the reason; our mothers trying to get us together even though they knew we have no liking for each other." Even with her face half hidden behind a book, she looked quite attractive. Dark, short hair, round face and wearing a plain coloured, loose fitting, blouse, dark trousers and flat heeled black shoes, my mind looked at her with a spark of interest which might have ignited had I not known of her superior manner and acidic tongue. "Well they can lead a horse to the water but they can't make it drink, as they saying goes. I'll ignore her and see what railway sites are within reach. They may have made us travel together but we don't have to spend time with each other. I doubt if she wants to spend time with me anyway."
"I think our mothers have set us up Lorna," I commented as I sat in the assigned seat next to her.
"That's very perceptive of you Sherlock." Lorna turned her head and looked out of the window.
"I suppose you're booked into the High Beach Guest House too?"
Lorna's head turned sharply back to face me, "I already presumed that to be the case but at least we can avoid each other for most of the time." Again she looked out of the window and sat without speaking, lost in her thoughts and occasionally glancing contemptuously at me sitting next to her. Inwardly I wanted to spit in her face and really say what I thought but held my peace.
The plane sped its way across southern England towards the Cornish peninsula with the pair of us refusing to look or speak to each other until, about halfway to the destination, I decided to break the silence and whispered so other passengers didn't hear, "Lorna, we have to at least talk about this. I know you think I'm only comprehensive school scum because you went to the posh school, but our parents have put us in this together and our tickets can't be changed except if we pay extra and I can't afford that, so we're stuck with each other. I didn't want this and I doubt you did. We're staying in the same hotel, but we don't have to do the same things and we need only meet at breakfast and dinner."
After a long pause, Lorna replied in a terse whisper, "Are you stupid or something? I strongly suspect my mother will have booked us into the same room, maybe with only one bed so we'll be seeing much more of each other." She waited to let the information sink in before going on, "And if there is only one bed, you are going to sleep on the floor or in a chair or on the beach for all I care."
"No way!" A man nearby turned his head in our direction and I continued in a more subdued voice, "I'm not sleeping on the floor for you or anyone, Lady Snoot. You're no better than me and we'll have to sort things out on an equal basis. Maybe they'll let us have two rooms or maybe that's what has been arranged." Lorna shrugged and turned once more to look out of the window and remained silent until the plane landed.
When everyone stood to 'de-plane', I took her carry-on from the overhead locker and placed it on the seat when I removed mine but only received a nod in acknowledgement and she waited until I'd started down the aisle before following several passengers later. By the time Lorna arrived at the baggage carousel, I'd found a trolley and placed my bag on it. "Which one is yours?" I asked but she ignored me.
Finally hers arrived and she struggled with it from the conveyor to the floor and glanced around, "I have to visit the Ladies," she whispered rather embarrassedly.
"I'll watch your bags."
"A thank you! That's a first," I thought as I watched her head for the lavatories, "I bet she didn't go on the plane because she'd have to ask me to move and now she's desperate."
A man I recognised from the plane came and told me the car waited at the entrance and to take the luggage so they could load it without delay. Knowing Lorna might be worried, and ignoring her bitchy attitude, I hurried back and saw her standing and looking bewildered but her face brightened when I ran towards her. "Sorry, the Guest House car is waiting and the driver doesn't want to overrun his parking time. That older, fat couple that were in the front seats are staying there too and helped me load the bags. It will be a tight squeeze in the car but they said it's only a ten minute drive as the guesthouse is this side of Newquay."
I didn't exaggerate it being a tight squeeze and the heat of the afternoon sun on the car roof made the interior stiflingly hot and didn't lift our subdued mood. Jack Morrell sat alongside the driver and his wife Rita, took up half the space for three passengers on the back seat and tried to cheer us with jovial remarks. With difficulty we managed to fasten the seat belts but us teenagers almost had to sit sideways. Lorna looked steadfastly out of the window and tried to ignore Rita's chatter and I only answered in monosyllables. "I do believe they've had a lover's tiff, Jack," she laughed, "Don't worry, at your age you'll soon get over it."
"Come in, come in. Stan will bring your bags and we'll soon have you settled," Mrs. Chumley the proprietor greeted us, "I'll get Jack and Rita sorted first because they've been several times and know where things are and I'll only have to show them which room they're in."
"They're not a very happy pair and, at the moment, they're hardly on speaking terms. I guess its young love gone wrong," Rita teased us.
"Rita, don't meddle. For the time being leave them to themselves before you do more harm than good. Now let me show you your room." Puzzled at the sharp reply, the couple followed Mrs. Chumley up the stairs.
.... There is more of this story ...