Chapter 16

I was right, Sandy didn’t have an IDP, but promised to get one when I spoke to her that evening. We spoke for about twenty minutes before I went to bed, ending with a promise to call every day.

I spent Monday morning studying, then, after lunch, killed some time planning what I was going to courier over to Vancouver. I started with a sheet of paper, my idea being that rather than sit down and try to think of everything at once, I’d make a quick list, and add to it, or subtract from it, as ideas came to me. It didn’t seem sensible to pay for freight for things that I could buy over there, cheaper than the cost of sending them out from home.

The first items on the list were my two guitars and my practice amplifier. I added clothes, cold weather gear and Marmite to the list. I knew there was a mountain clothing shop down in the outlet centre in Glasshoughton, and if they had nothing, I was pretty sure that the shop in the indoor ski slope down there would have something suitable.

I asked my parents if one of them could run me down to Glasshoughton. I didn’t mind the walk, it was less than a mile, but coming back with a pile of stuff would be a pain and suggested that I could get a taxi if they weren’t free. Mum offered and also offered to help me do the shopping. I wasn’t too sure about that, Mum could be a bit, well, forceful when I was shopping for something, and I usually ended up buying what she wanted me to have, rather than what I wanted.

The only problem was, I didn’t have any way of saying no, not after I’d asked for the ride in the first place.

“Thanks, Mum,” I said, “but you don’t need to come round with me, just take me there, and I’ll get a taxi back when I’m finished.”

“No,” she replied, “it will be nice to have some quality time alone with my son.”

I said nothing but wondered whether it wouldn’t be better to just buy everything over there.

It turned out to be nowhere near as bad as I expected.

The first place we tried was Moss Bros. The assistant in there was a middle-aged man, who, if asked, I would have said was gay, very flouncy, but, like all Moss Bros. salesmen, immaculately dressed in a dark blue pin-striped suit and white shirt, crisp and spotless, topped off with a grey and blue striped tie, and highly polished black slip-on shoes.

“I’m looking for a couple of suits, and a dinner suit,” I told him, “and perhaps a couple of shirts to go with the dinner suit, plus the standard accessories.”

“Certainly sir,” he said, “school leaver’s ball or have you been invited to a formal dinner?”

“Neither,” I replied, “I’m leaving for Vancouver for six months, and there’ll be premieres and things to attend.”

His eyes went wide.

“Premieres?” he asked.

“Yes, you know, films things like that,” I replied.

“You’re an actor?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied, “at least I’m a good enough one to make them think I can act.”

He chuckled.

“Me too,” he said, “although, as you can see, I had to give it up and get a proper job.”

“Not enough work to live on?” I asked.

“You got it in one,” he replied, picking up a tape measure, “now if I can take a few measurements?”

“Can we have a look at what you have first?” Mum asked, “no point putting you to all that trouble if you don’t have what we want, is there?”

“No madam,” he replied, “as you wish. I’ll leave you to it, just call on me when you’re ready.”

As he walked away, Mum pulled me over to a rack of suits.

“I think he was after checking your inside leg measurement,” she whispered.

“I got that impression too,” I said, “I think I’d rather have his colleague do that.”

I nodded towards the counter, where he was standing chatting to a very attractive young woman in a white blouse and black skirt.

“Yes, I bet you would,” she said.

We looked through the rack and couldn’t find anything we liked, they were all, in Mum’s words, far too old for me, but I did find a dinner suit. One of the things that I liked about it was that it was available with either a black or a white jacket. We bought both, and the salesman, his name turned out to be Peter, was very professional about measuring me. At the same time, we bought three dress shirts, two white, one pale blue, two tie it yourself bow ties, one black, one white, and four cummerbunds in different colours. We walked back to the car park and stowed our goodies in the car, then continued on around the shops. There are at least eight menswear shops in Glasshoughton, and Mum’s shopping technique is somewhat different from mine. If I find something in the first shop I go into that is what I’m looking for, does what I need to do, I like it, and the price is acceptable, I buy it. With Mum, you have to visit every shop in the known universe, inspect every item in it, make a shortlist, then move on to the next shop and repeat, before coming back to the first shop and buying the first thing you looked at. According to my Dad, all women are like that.

I was saved from too much torment by Mum needing to get home and prepare tea, but, not before I was richer by all the stuff from Moss Bros. Two suits from Skopes, eight shirts from Double Two, and assorted underwear, jeans t-shirts and pullovers from a variety of shops. I’ll give Mum her due though, they were all chosen by me, and she didn’t interfere, even when she obviously thought something else would be better.

We didn’t talk on the way back, and I quickly removed my stuff from the boot and ran it upstairs, while Mum went to the kitchen and got on with tea.

Up in my room, I crossed day clothes off my list and added a new laptop to it.

After tea, I made my call to Sandy. She was recovering well, she’d been back to the hospital for more x-rays and her leg and arm were healing well, her ribs were almost fully functional again. She had asked me when I thought I’d be back. She actually said back home, but I let it go. I suggested probably the weekend after next, we chatted for a while, said our “I love you” and hung up.

Then I was meeting the gang down at the Cineworld, we were going skiing at the indoor ski centre in the same building. We could all, to varying extents, manage to stay upright on skis, but our actual skill levels were varied. Kathy was probably our best skier and she was fascinated that I would be going up to Whistler.

“Did you know that all the snow events at the 2010 Winter Olympics are going to be held there?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied, “I was in Vancouver a couple of weeks ago, and they’re all excited about it.”

That wasn’t quite true, there was a lot of opposition to it, particularly among the Native American tribes.

“Maybe, if you’re still making this series,” she said, “Dave and I could come out and stay with you when it’s on.”

“I’m sure that in the unlikely event of the series lasting that long, I’ll be the most popular of all our gang,” I replied, “but I’ll bear in mind that you asked first.”

“Thank you,” she said and kissed me on the cheek, getting both of us a glare from Dave.

She walked over to Dave and I could see them talking, they seemed to be arguing over something, until she put a finger to his lips, then, when he was quiet, kissed him on the cheek. After saying something else to him, she kissed him on the lips, a long, hot-looking kiss, which I guessed involved tongues. It certainly involved Dave getting a glare from Mike, her brother.