CHAPTER 18
The rest of the evening was fun, especially when the nutter, who turned out to be called Stephanie, was carried out onto the dance floor by the prop I had been lusting after.

In the end she left early, and Tony and I concentrated on getting seriously down and dirty on the dance floor. He was a little stiff then and my filthy mind hoped he would be later as well….oh, how I was getting used to this. Without Jim around we could be far more, ahem, adult than we were at home. That was a night to treasure.

Tony managed to get the gossip on the redhead, who turned out to come from just down the road from me. I made a note to see if Elaine knew anything about the family. If my life was anything to go by, there would be some problems there, and if I looked at poor Alice…

Apparently, she had come out beforehand to her workmates, the close ones, and that night was her big unveiling. I liked her style, a real two fingers to the world, ‘This is me, take it or sod off’ and, yet again, I realised what I had thrown away. This world holds arseholes, turds like Joe, but looking at my friends, and the way that girl’s team took her to their hearts, the good outweighed the bad by a huge factor.

You go, girl!

Yes, it was a good night, and a lovely morning before breakfast, and in between I lay wrapped round by my care bear, at peace and with hope.

We were a little hung over the next morning, though. Oh, sod it, we were both VERY hung over, once again as a byproduct of being without Jim. The coach ride back left us both dozing, but we were back far more safely than we would have been on the bikes after such a night. Once we were home, and Enid had done her ma-in-lawly duty with the teapot, I gave Alice a ring.

“You won’t believe this…”

I just felt that she might appreciate the idea of the silk purse that had been produced from the sow’s ear of a rugby forward with a broken nose. Facing facts, I realised, was the way to break her fears. She was a woman in late middle age. As much as she might dream of being some femme fatale head-turner, she was a matron in outlook and habits. She and Enid were fast friends, and so similar in behaviour I could forget the beard. The real trouble was myself.

Because I started young, I had turned out rather well. No false modesty, I had the shape of a fit, lean woman, natural hips and bust, and as Tony kept telling me, and the gaze of male strangers confirmed, I looked good. In other words, a direct slap in the face for Alice. If, if, we could find a way of letting her settle into middle age as she was, let her write off her youth as I now did mine but give her some golden years, I would be happy. I suggested that to Enid, and asked her advice.

“Well, dear, she’s not that far off my size, really, and don’t look at me like that. But that beard would have to go. I know she grew it as protection, but if she wants to do this then she needs to put some of her shields down”

Yet again, I could see where my man had got his soul from.

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The time went all too quickly after that, and before we knew it we were packing for Australia. The flight was from right next to our rather special rally site, and I got little quivers at the memory. You see, once Tony had found the , ahem, right way to keep me happy, he had practised it rather often, and being there got me a little unnecessary. I had to concentrate on Jim to bring me back down. If the opportunity had presented itself, I would have dragged Tony somewhere and ravished him. Later, girl, later.

We had checked in on line with Emirates airline, and as it was a Boeing 777 we had a row of three seats with a window. That, of course, went to Jim, as the new flier., and he was really, really sweet to me.

“Daddy has to sit on the outside cause he’s got long legs ,and if he sits n the middle you won’t be able to see anything past him cause he’s too big”

That had always been an awkwardness when we were in the tent, as Jim slept by his dad, and so did I, and this time both my men would be enfolding me. . We did the rounds of the airside shops, picking up some books for Jim and some smellies for me. There were none of the problems I had feared at security, but I was still carrying a letter confirming my status. Until January came, and it went, I was still on the outside.

Onto the plane at last, and into our seats for the first leg, over Europe to Dubai. Take off was exciting for Jim, as the acceleration pushed him back in his seat, and he squealed happily. Both men squeezed my hands to make me feel safe, and I avoided any suggestion that as a knee-down track star I might not actually be nervous, but it made them feel important.

We ended up flying right over Dover, and I pointed out and down till Jim could see our street.

“Do you want to wave to Nana, Jim?”

“Don’t be silly, mummy, she can’t see us from down there”

Just like that. The squeeze from Tony let me know that he had heard, and his shoulder got a little damp.

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I am nuts about travel, and nature, and geography, and maps, and over Jim’s head I saw loads of places I wanted to visit, but from rather further away than I had hoped. Lake Balaton was one, in Hungary, and as it turned dark we were heading out over another, the Danube delta, to the Black Sea. Jim was already asleep, despite the mass of entertainment in the seat back, and that let me have my own little snuggle with his dad.

Dubai was barking. Absolutely weird. There were shops and shops, selling everything from alcohol to gold, and couldn’t resist the lure of a new and decent digital camera for about  £400. I added some memory cards, and topped up my chocolate supply, and we had a drink and a cake while people watching. Arab men were everywhere, of course, many in traditional dress, followed by the black daleks of their wives. Mingling with them were sun, sea and sex westerners, in rather less clothing, and the men’s eyes followed the women about, officially with disapproval, but most definitely with covert delight in some cases.

Onto another plane, and off in the dark over a huge expanse of lights. The cabin display switched between a world map, a local map, both showing our position, groundspeed, height ,and so on, and a diagram of the direction and distance of Mecca. The cabin lights were dimmed, and the window blinds pulled down, I wrapped a blanket around my little man and cuddled my huge one, and did my best to sleep.

There were thunderstorms over Sri Lanka, and when I popped the blind to see the sunlight was so powerful I pulled it straight back down. Eventually the cabin crew stirred, and a not bad breakfast was served. I woke Jim, bracing myself for the “are we nearly there yet?” which duly came.

“Morning, darling. Breakfast?”

“Yes please, mummy.” He looked a little odd, then, and said “I know I had another mummy, but you are marrying my daddy, so I thought I should call you the right name. Is that an OK thing?”

“It’s a very OK thing, Jim.” Oh god.

Blinds up, Jim lost himself in videos while the interminable expanse of the Indian Ocean passed beneath us until…yes, a long dark line just visible. Finally, finally we could see our destination. Some time later we started our descent.

We passed over a coastline that seemed to be all reefs, then a lot of new housing, until finally setting down at a place that seemed to be miles from anywhere except major roads. We handed our Customs forms in, had our luggage checked, and pushed our expensive and badly-designed trolley through the sliding doors.

Tony had a friend who had moved to Perth on marrying a local girl, and we would stay with him for a few days at the start of our trip, before flying on to Cairns. Terry was waiting for us, as he had warned Tony that public transport from the airport was “a bit shit, mate” and as he and Kylie (yes, I know) had four kids, he had a rather large people-carrier to collect us and our luggage.

“So you’re the tart that’s stolen my mate then? I didn’t realise he had such good taste! And this is Jim! Hello, mate, welcome to kangaroo country!”

“Are we gong to see kangaroos, daddy?”

Terry grimaced slightly. “Oh yes. Probably as roadkill to start with”

As we went out into the car park a flock of screaming parrots went overhead, rainbow lorikeets. This was most definitely foreign, even the trees looking different. It was about six n the evening when we arrived, so all of the family were waiting to greet us up at Joondalup in the North of the city, and the five kids were soon bouncing happily around the yard. It was warm, and there were flies. Lots of them. Terry dropped a few simple rules.

“No walking through long grass, no stepping over fallen tress, no poking into holes. There have been a few bitten dogs this year already n the park, so keep an eye on the little one. Mostly dugites, but there were some tigers too.”

“Sorry, Terry, but ‘eh’? “

“Oh, sorry, Sar, snakes.”

Oh. That was to become one of our two habits in Australia, checking the ground ahead when leaving the footpath. The other was the Aussie Wave, a flick of the hand over the face to discourage flies.

We were there, and it was so alien and new, and I was ‘mummy’.