Dorothy’s Grand Day Out

Events take an unexpected turn

Dorothy stands on the corner of the street by the bus stop. It is September but still the birds sing and the sun shines, though there are some dark clouds. She decides to wear her pink coat with her straw hat.

After a few weeks of being in hospital she can’t wait to spend a day at the nearby seaside resort. Even though she is a little faint and dizzy, she almost feels like a young girl again, excited and happy. Her old friend Mabel is joining her, boarding the bus a few stops earlier.

Suddenly a little green car screeches to a halt beside her and two young girls wearing matching red dresses jump out and rush over.

“Dorothy, is it you, Dorothy?”

“Well yes,” she replies rather nervously. “I am Dorothy.”

“Surprise. We’re Hannah and Claire from the Thomson side, come to give you a lift.” One of them opens the passenger door and the other bustles Dorothy into the front seat of the car. Music is blaring out, dispelling any of Dorothy’s confusion and misgivings. She leans back.

“This will be nice and comfortable,” she murmurs, enjoying their exuberance. “I don’t think I know you, do I?”

“Mum said we last saw you when we were toddlers. I guessed it was you by the nice hat you are wearing.”

Dorothy frowns for a moment, wondering who their mum could be? “Who is this singing, dear? Adele?” They both laugh, which encourages laughter from Dorothy, they are so youthful and infectious. “Nah. Miley Cyrus.” “Hmm – not heard of him.” A retort that made the girls giggle delightedly.

“Only passed my test last week,” says the driver and Dorothy can’t help wondering how she will be able to drive in such high heels, yet she appears to do so with youthful confidence.

“Are you taking me all the way, dear?” She has to shout above the racket of the music.

“Of course, Dorothy, it isn’t far.”

Dorothy asks where Mabel is, but Hannah – the driver – shrugs, explaining they don’t know a Mabel, and guessing she will make her own way there.

At first Dorothy wonders where she might meet Mabel, maybe by the pier. Then, glancing out of the window, she frowns as they appear to be going in the opposite direction. This way goes to the countryside.

“You’re sure you know where you are going? This doesn’t seem right to me.”

“Don’t worry, Dorothy, this is a short cut. Soon be there.”

Dorothy is old – well, more mature – but she is not stupid and absolutely knows this is not the way to the coast. She trembles, suddenly afraid. Who are these two giggling young girls? Have they abducted her?

They must want cash. She delves into her old black handbag, retrieves all her cash – sixty pounds – and throws it to the girl in the back seat.

“Stop this car and let me out at once. I want to get the bus.” Her voice is loud, commanding.

Claire laughs. “We don’t want your money Dorothy – honestly, we offered to come for you.”

The old lady feels frightened, and delves inside her handbag again to find her mobile phone, and then realises it is where she left it, on the kitchen table. She is always doing that. Drat. “I need to know where Mabel is!” Hannah shrugs again. “I expect she is already there – look, just around this corner and here we are.” She swerves across the road, narrowly missing a lorry, and stops just in front of a lovely old church that is nestled against a pathway of trees leading down to a river.

It does look so pretty, and Dorothy notices a throng of smartly dressed people idly standing around. She feels bewildered, thinking this looks like a wedding, but she hasn’t been invited to any wedding. Trembling, she opens the door to go and ask what is going on?

Hannah and Claire have climbed out of the car and are tottering over to a

She SWERVES across the road and STOPS in front of a LOVELY OLD CHURCH

stout woman in blue, wearing a large rimmed brown hat.

“Hey, Mum – we’re back. We picked up your Aunt Dorothy.”

The woman makes her way towards the car, beaming broadly, then stops. “That’s not Dorothy.” “My name most certainly is Dorothy, but who, might I ask, are you?” “My aunt is Dorothy Thomson.” Dorothy replies, “My name is Dorothy Johnson. Dorothy Thomson lives along the street from me.”

The two girls now have faces as red as their dresses.

“Well –” Claire sighs. “She’s wearing a hat.” Then, pointing at the old lady, “You never said.” “You never asked.” Everyone is silent until a tall skinny elderly man edges forward, guffawing.

“Honestly – you girls. They brought the wrong Dorothy.”

Dorothy Johnson wishes the floor would open up as she listens to some titters, then loud laughter as all eyes stare at her. This is so embarrassing.

The elderly man places a friendly arm around her.

“Well, wrong Dorothy, now you are here, come and enjoy my cousin’s wedding. They will arrive any minute now. This is her second attempt at the marriage lark – like Hannah here, she first picked the wrong man.” He laughs as he leads Dorothy into the church. “Not tried it myself, a jolly old bachelor – but you know, had I met you years ago I might have been tempted.”

He gives Dorothy a big wink, which elicits a blush.

Meekly Dorothy sits at the back, thinking it must be at least twenty years since she attended a wedding. Just then the right Dorothy struts into the church, after arriving by taxi. She glares at Dorothy Johnson.

“If I knew you were coming, we could have shared a taxi.”

Dorothy Johnson looks at the tall elderly man, and finds it very hard not to laugh. Her whole inside is bubbling rather like frothy champagne. She wishes she could hold this feeling for ever.

Soon a middle-aged woman wearing a beige two-piece arrives, followed by the two girls in their red dresses. They walk towards a bald man standing at the front. Dorothy finds unexpected tears in her eyes, and she doesn’t even know these people. Well, the whole day has been very unexpected.

As the service begins, she can hear rain pattering on the roof and thinks of poor Mabel plodding beside the sea having to wear her pack-a-mac. Probably it was not such a good day after all to spend at the coast.

GoodjobIdecidedtowearmyhat. She smiles. After all, she can go to the coast any time, but she doubts if she will ever get the chance to be the wrong Dorothy again.

As the small congregation stands up to leave, the elderly man joins her and, taking her arm, gives her another wink.

“Come and share my umbrella, wrong Dorothy.” He laughs.