A Lucky Break
A free holiday – what a treat! But we soon realised that something was missing
Jean was sitting at my breakfast bar, flipping through the Radio Times as she drank her coffee. I had just picked up my post from the mat and was looking through it for anything interesting.
A white envelope with my name written in pen caught my eye.
Tearing it open, I found good news.
“Jean, we’ve struck it lucky again!” I exclaimed.
“Remember that competition we entered in the supermarket’s free magazine the other month? We’ve won!”
“Oh, goodie!” Jean replied, pushing away the magazine.“Tell me the prize is something nice.”
“A mini-break at Hampden Hall. Here, see for yourself.” I handed her the letter.
“Itsayswecantakeitany time this year except for the Christmas period.”
“Scotland! What are we waiting for, Maureen?” Jean asked.“Let’s call them right now. We might as well go while it’s still nice weather.”
I immediately reached for the phone.
“So, this is their Executive Room,” Jean observed, sitting on one twin bed to test its springiness.“What is that, exactly?”
“It means we’re a bit better than basic guests, but not quite up there with the deluxe crowd,” I replied with a grin.
“Well, it has everything we need,” Jean observed, casting an eye around.“Tea and coffee-making facilities, plenty of wardrobe space and a lovely en suite.”
She opened a dressing-table drawer.
“There’s a hairdryer, too.” She went over to the desk.
“And headed paper and pens. And the carpet looks new.” “Are you hungry yet?” I asked. “What with the journey, we’ve missed lunch and now it’s half-past five and all we’ve had since breakfast are several cups of tea and some shortbread.”
“Is dinner included in the prize?”
“Itsureis.”
“Then, yes, I’m starving.”
“September’s a great time for a little holiday,” Jean began as we lingered over our coffees in the dining room.
“Just when everybody else has to set their alarm clocks and declare the summer over, we get a bonus vacation tagged on at the end.
“Did you and Dennis tend to go away in July and August, or did you make the most of off-peak prices?” she asked.
“We always went at the quieter times,” I replied.“Not having children, we weren’t obliged to fork out those inflated sums during the school holidays.
“We had some lovely May weather in France and Italy, and we went to Crete in September, I recall.”
“I went to Egypt one October. It was baking hot.”
“Egypt? I never knew,” I commented.
“Yes, and I’ll tell you an interesting fact I picked up
– on a timeline, Cleopatra was born closer to the building of the Titanic than the building of the pyramids.”
“Are you sure?”
“The guide told us. Isn’t that amazing?”
We agreed that there was a unique pleasure in eating a delicious meal when you didn’t even have to think about doing the dishes, or even paying for it, then we gathered up our things and decamped to the lounge.
“What do you say we try some of the special activities tomorrow?” I asked. “What did you have in mind?” I delved in my handbag for the leaflet I had collected at reception earlier on.
“There’s a putting green, apparently.And canoeing.”
“Canoeing? That sounds a bit adventurous.”
“It isn’t really. It’s on a man-made lake in the grounds. There’s dancing, too.”
“That sounds more interesting. What kind?”
Jean asked.
“It just says ‘suitable for all abilities’.”
“OK, you mind the handbags, I’ll just pop to reception and see what I can book.”
Over the next two days, we tried everything from abseiling to crochet and archery to bingo, and on the second night we danced.
It wasn’t ballroom. It was Scottish country dancing, with an expert caller giving us all the moves, and it was hilarious.
Flopping down, Jean and I took a moment to sip a cold drink and catch our breath.
“Are you enjoying our freebie, Maureen?” Jean asked.
“Yes, very much.”
“Me, too. I was just thinking how strange it is that there are absolutely no families,” Jean remarked.
“I know the schools have gone back, but I haven’t seen a single buggy or a baby in a high chair.”
“It’s an over-fifties hotel, Jean,” I explained.“It specifically caters for people who want to be surrounded by other mature adults.”
“Oh, I see.” Jean looked thoughtful. “When you and Dennis went on holiday, did you make a beeline for places like this, then?”
“No. Dennis and I chose not to have children, but we didn’t avoid them, either.
“For instance, beach holidays wouldn’t have been the same without hearing those excited little voices and seeing them get busy with their buckets and spades.”
“I miss mine,” Jean confessed. “My youngsters would have had great fun out in the canoes, and the whole tribe would have loved the dancing – you should see them at weddings.” I laughed.
“If it comes to that, I have one great-nephew who would have laughed his leg off to witness me abseiling down that wall.
“But it’s still nice to have peace and quiet, I reckon.
“I can definitely see the attraction of places like these,” I concluded.
Jean went a bit quiet after that, which can mean she’s up to something.
“I knew I’d find one somewhere in the town,” Jean said, breaking into a grin.“Look – ‘Monkeys And Minders’. It’s clearly a drop-in group for adults and toddlers.”
We ventured inside the church hall and were greeted by Rosemary, who introduced herself as the rector, and wondered if we were meeting someone.
We explained where we were holidaying and that, unexpectedly, we’d found ourselves missing having the little ones around.
A thought occurred to me. “Perhaps we shouldn’t be here. There might be a rule about having to come equipped with a child.”
“Not in these circumstances,” Rosemary assured us.“Not when every little one is accompanied by a parent or grandparent or carer. I’ll sign you in as visitors.
“Come on in. You’re very welcome. By the sound of it, you’ve arrived just in time for our sing-song.”
“Oh, Maureen, listen. It’s The Wheels On The Bus.”
“Do you know it?” Rosemary asked.
“Know it? I could sing it all day long!”
“Maureen,” Jean began as we looked through our newspapers back at the hotel.
“Yes?” I responded warily. I suspected she was going to propose one of her slightly dubious schemes, and was hoping to sign me up as her accomplice.
“You have quite a few young people and children in your family, don’t you?”
“I do, yes.”
“And so do I.”
“I know.”
“I expect you’ll be leaving them a little something, you know, when the time comes.”
“When the time comes? What time’s that?” I teased her, knowing very well what she meant.
“Don’t act the innocent, Maureen.You know – when you pop your clogs. I mean, will you be leaving them all a financial something in your will?”
“It’s all taken care of,” I assured her.
“That means yes,” Jean replied. “I know you, and you’re very thoughtful. But just to clarify – are you leaving them much?”
“That’s rather a personal question,” I said, enjoying stringing her along.
“And I’m rather a personal friend! Let’s be realistic – Dennis will have had a good pension, and so will you.
“Your bungalow’s seriously des-res and I’d be surprised if you hadn’t saved quite a bit over the years, what with you being DINKYs.” “DINKYs?” I asked.
“You know – Double
Income No Kids Yet. Those acronyms used to be all the rage, remember?”
“I love your use of the word ‘yet’.” I laughed. “That really is optimistic!”
“No one likes a pedant, Maureen. I’m merely establishing that you are pretty much minted and in a position to be a benefactor to your young folk.
“As it happens, I have a bob or two myself in the pipeline for mine.”
“All right, Jean. Where is all this leading?” I asked.
“Wouldn’t it be great to spend some of their inheritance now by taking the whole lot of them away to a place like this for a weekend? With loads of activities, but somewhere that caters for the kids? With plenty of parents and grandparents, and nonparents like us, we could share the childcare and the fun. My bunch could meet your bunch.”
I looked at Jean’s eager face as she tried to sell me the idea. But she needn’t have worried – I was already sold.
“It would be quite an accomplishment to find a weekend when everyone would be free,” I cautioned.
“But we can give them months of notice – we don’t even have to do it this side of Christmas, if it’s tricky.”
“People don’t normally plan much for January – everyone’s broke. Maybe that would be the ideal time to whisk everyone away to brighten up the gloom.”
We agreed to draft a joint email to circulate to our extended families when we got home, proposing the idea and insisting that this was a once-ina-lifetime get-together for which we would be footing the entire bill. Those were to be the terms.
“I feel great now we’ve made that decision,” Jean said.
“Me, too. Well enough to choose what I want for dinner.”
“Just what I was thinking. Oh, but if we get all your lot and my lot to go away together, can you imagine the dirty dishes?
“We’ll have to put a little something aside from our wills to tip the washer-upper.”
“Absolutely.And by the way,” I added,“I fact-checked your claim about Cleopatra and it turns out you were right.”
“I told you so,” Jean answered. “So, if you were to be buried in a pyramid, Jean, what would you like buried with you?” “You,” Jean said promptly. “What if I wasn’t dead yet?” I protested.
“That would teach you to factcheck my historically accurate assertions,” Jean retorted. “Shall we have a bottle of wine with our dinner?”