Chapter 27

We discovered on Thursday that BA had changed their flight schedule and that flight BA0085 from Heathrow wasn’t due in to Vancouver until seven-ten in the evening. Which made the day less of a rush.

Maria and I drove to the airport to pick them up, after a discussion as to whether Sandy needed to be there and whether we would need the space that her cast would take up for luggage. I knew my mother. My mother could pack two suitcases for a weekend away, I suspected that we’d need the space.

We parked the car in the short-stay car park at ten past six and walked across to the arrivals hall. Since we had forty-five minutes to kill before the plane was due to land and the passengers would then need time to retrieve their luggage and get through customs and immigration we both felt that a coffee would be welcome. We found a coffee shop and both immediately succumbed to the temptation of a slice of chocolate cake. I had mine with cream.

“David,” Maria said, as she placed her cup back in the saucer after she had taken a sip, “can I ask you something without you getting angry?”

“Of course you can,” I replied, “what is it?”

“What are your intentions towards my daughter after this filming is finished?”

“Do you mean, am I just going to fly back to England and carry on with my life without her?” I asked.

“I suppose I am, yes,” she said, “she loves you; you know.”

“I know,” I replied, “and I love her.”

“I sense a but,” she said.

“Not a ‘but’ as such,” I replied, “just a caveat. Look, Sandy is my PA, she’s employed by my company and she’ll continue as that for as long as she wants. As to a longer-term personal relationship? I hope so, I really do, but when it comes to it, I’m sixteen, she’s twenty-one. I have two years of school still to do then three years at University and we’ll be living three thousand miles apart. I want it to carry on, but I already know what a strain distance can put on that, so yes, I have my intentions and they’re good, but I just don’t know if it can work.”

She looked as if she was about to say something, then shook her head very slightly and smiled at me.

“What were you going to say?” I asked.

“Honestly?” she asked.

“Honestly,” I confirmed.

“I was about to say, you’re a good boy David Barker,” she said, “but you’re not.”

“I’m not?”

“No,” she continued, “you’re a good man.”

Then she leaned across the table and kissed me on the cheek.

“Just, please, don’t hurt her,” she whispered.

“I never will,” I said, “not intentionally and I hope not in any other way.”

“Thank you,” she replied, “I never thought you would, you’re just too nice a young man, but I worry.”

“You’re a mother, of course, you worry,” I assured her, then looked at my watch, “I think it’s time for us to go and wait.”

The flight information screen on the wall told us that BA flight 0085 had landed ten minutes ago.

It was, however, still another thirty-five minutes before the doors from the baggage claim area opened and I saw first my sister pushing a trolley and then my parents follow her through. Alison spotted me, abandoned the trolley and headed towards me at a gallop.

She spent a full minute with her arms around me, showering my face with little kisses before she stopped and stepped back. She looked up at me, smiled and said, “Oh, sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

I smiled back at her, hugged her and replied, “Welcome to Canada, Miss. Would you like some help finding him?”

“No,” she answered, “you’ll do instead.”

Then I turned to greet our parents and do the introductions to Maria.

She and Mum were instant BFFs, going into mother mode and, I suspected before long would be exchanging embarrassing offspring stories. Whether they were embarrassing stories about offspring or stories that would embarrass said offspring remained, I think, to be seen.

In the car park, once Dad and I had loaded the bags into the van, I took the trolley off to the trolley park and walked back to the van, discovering that my mother had claimed the shotgun seat, so I just climbed into the back with Alison and Dad and buckled in for the drive back to the house.

Maria parked in the driveway while Dad and I emptied the bags out, then I let my family into the house while she garaged the vehicle. Sandy was in the kitchen, sat at the table with the coffee maker doing its thing.

“I thought you could probably all do with a coffee,” she said as we walked in, “hi, I’m Sandy, unless it’s Sunday, then I’m Sandra.”

“Hello, Sandy, I’m Pat,” Mum introduced herself, “I’m so happy to meet you. How are you doing and, more importantly, is my son treating you well?”

“Very well, thank you, Pat,” she replied, “he is, at all times a perfect gentleman.”

My Dad stepped over to them and put his hand out to shake.

“Hello, Sandy, I’m James,” he said, “it’s nice to put a face to the voice on the phone.”

She took the proffered hand and, instead of shaking it, used it to pull herself up then hugged him closely.

“It’s lovely to meet you all,” she said, “and you must be Alison. Your brother has told me a lot about you.”

“It’s all lies,” Alison informed her.

“What?” Sandy replied, “so you’re not beautiful, witty, charming and intelligent?”

“He said that?” she asked, “about me?”

I busied myself pouring coffees for everyone while they all got acquainted.

Maria joined us, locking the connecting door to the garage behind her as she entered.

“Is anybody hungry?” she asked, “I have Moussaka in the fridge that I can heat up quickly.”

“Eleven and a half fours on a plane, with airline food?” Alison said, “I’m starving.”

Everybody decided that they could eat, so I got out the plates and cutlery while Maria got the Moussaka out of the fridge and into the oven.

“Wine?” I asked my parents.

“You have wine?” Mum asked, suspiciously.

“Mum, there are two adults living in the house, of course we have wine,” I replied, “and beer, whisky, spelt both ways, brandy, rum and ouzo. I even have an occasional glass of wine myself.”

“Pat,” Dad interrupted, “he’s growing up. Hell, he and I have shared a beer in the study before now, just let it go.”

The conversation around the dinner table ranged from Sandy’s university course, Alison’s ambitions and Maria’s Greek origins to what was next for me and what there was to do in the Vancouver area.

We decided on two day trips for certain, a day on Vancouver Island and a trip up to Whistler, then the aquarium, botanical gardens and zoo and maybe even the fifty-mile trip down to the US border.

“What is there to do on Vancouver Island?” Alison asked.

“Bear watching, whale watching, hiking, although it’s a good idea to go with a guide.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because the bears are wild and a lot bigger, faster and meaner than you,” I explained, “and the guide will have a gun to scare the bears off if necessary.”

“Are they dangerous?” she asked sounding nervous.

“Yes and no,” I said, “they’re about a third of a ton and six and a half feet tall stood on their hind legs, but they tend to avoid humans. Apparently, we kill more of them than they kill of us.”

“I’m sure that’s of great comfort to those of us that they do kill,” Mum said.

I hugged my sister to me.

“Don’t worry, Pip,” I said, “just remember, if a bear charges you, you don’t need to outrun it, just outrun at least one of the people you’re with.”

That broke the tension and everyone laughed.

Mum volunteered Alison and me to clear up the dinner dishes and load the dishwasher and she and Dad said goodnight and went off upstairs to their room. Alison followed them as soon as we were finished, although it was only ten pm, their body clocks were telling them that it was six in the morning.

We weren’t long after they went up before we were following them.

The next morning I was up early as usual and wandered down to the kitchen to put the coffee maker on to brew.

I’d been beaten to it by Maria who was preparing a leg of lamb for dinner that night, apparently, it was to be wrapped in vine leaves and slow-roasted for twelve hours.

“Good morning, David,” she greeted me, “coffee’s made. What time should I aim to have breakfast ready for your family?”

“I think it might be better to just let them sleep,” I said, “Mum will be able to do breakfast when they finally surface.”

“That’s all right,” she answered, “I have nothing better to do. Do you have any plans?”

“I think they may appreciate an easy day,” I replied, “perhaps we’ll just visit the botanical gardens, or maybe we’ll go to the Metro Mall, show them Canadian shopping at its finest.”

“What about the tree?” she asked, “you said your sister likes to decorate the tree.”

“Well, that can be the job for today then, she and Sandy, Sandy can do the design and Alison can do the grunt work,” I suggested.

The two of us sat for a half-hour, drinking coffee until we heard the tell-tale soft thuds as Sandy got herself down the stairs. Maria stood and got a mug of coffee ready for her.

“What do you two want for breakfast?” she asked as Sandy sat beside me at the table, “or would you rather wait until your family are up, David?”

“No, now is fine,” I replied, “there’s no knowing when they’ll surface. How about scrambled eggs?”

“Scrambled eggs it is, we have some smoked salmon in the fridge if you’d like that with them.

“That sounds good,” Sandy said, “yummy.”

So, that’s what we got, with toasted sourdough bread, thickly sliced and slathered with butter.

I was just clearing the plates away when my sister walked into the kitchen, looking like she was still half asleep.

“Morning Pip,” I greeted her cheerily, she just scowled at me, “did you sleep well?”

“Eventually,” she said, grumpily.

“What was the problem?” I asked.

“The couple in the next bedroom,” she said, “don’t they know they’re not supposed to be doing that at their age?”

I laughed, which only made her scowl all the more.

Maria just smiled sweetly.

“You know,” she said softly, “there will probably come a time when you’re happy that people do that at their age.”

“Like that’s ever likely to happen,” she grumbled, “I think Mum and Dad want me to be a nun.”

“No, they don’t,” I replied, “they just want you to be safe.”

“They let you and Cal go out together when you were my age, alone,” she objected, “I can only go out in a group. They let you two sleep together when you weren’t much older than me.”

“So who is it you want to sleep with?” I asked her, a question which caused a look of shock in her.

“Nobody,” she said, “well, not yet anyway, but Geoff and I have been going out for months, we’d just like them to trust us enough to let us do that without a whole gang of others with us.”

“Then you need to talk to them,” I told her.

“I’ve tried to talk to them, they just say I’m too young,” she replied, “will you talk to them for me?”

“Do you think they’ll listen?” I asked.

“Probably more than they do to me,” she answered.

“Well, I’ll try,” I promised, “I just need you to answer one question for me, honestly.”

“If it’s the one I think you’re going to ask, the answer is yes, of course,” she replied.

“Was it Geoff?” I asked.

“Was what Geoff?” she asked.

“Was it Geoff that you shared your virginity with?” I replied.

“What?” she spluttered, “No, I haven’t, I thought you were asking was I still a virgin.”