Riverside

Ruby is surprised by Jim’s new hobby . . .

IT was a bright morning and Ruby and Mary were enjoying their weekly coffee and catch-up in the Old Engine Room. They sat overlooking the river as the sun twinkled on the water and leaves on the trees moved slowly in a gentle breeze.

Inside, on Ruby and Mary’s table, was a plate with a slice of Clive’s award-winning carrot cake.

“Are you sure you won’t have a cake this morning, Ruby?” Mary asked.

Ruby laid her hand on her stomach.

“I had a big breakfast. Jim got up early and made me smoked salmon with all the trimmings.”

“What trimmings?”

“It was smoked salmon with half a loaf of toasted bread.” Ruby smiled. “He tried his best.”

“He idolises you, Ruby. I can’t remember the last time George made breakfast for me.” Ruby sipped her coffee. “Actually, I think Jim’s trying to make amends.”

“Don’t tell me you two have been arguing again?”

“No, nothing like that. He’s trying to make up for the time, money and effort he spent training up Buster to win the dog show.”

“Jim likes to have a hobby, doesn’t he?” Mary put in.

Ruby began counting on her fingers.

“He’s tried gardening with George, but that didn’t work out.”

“George still hasn’t forgiven him for what he did to his petunias.” Mary laughed.

“Then he tried Mike’s cookery class.”

“He did well there,” Mary reminded her friend. “Jim’s steak and ale pie was the talk of the town.

“It helped the Old Engine Room win Ryemouth’s Best Deli.”

“But everything’s a fad for Jim.” Ruby sighed. “He plunges himself into things and then changes his mind.

“He’s tried colouring, mindfulness, archery . . .”

While Ruby reeled off the activities Jim had tried, something on the riverbank caught Mary’s eye.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing at first.

“Ruby?” she began. “Speaking of Jim taking the plunge, look outside.”

Ruby spun round and peered in the direction Mary pointed.

A group of men dressed in swimming trunks were walking into the water.

Each of the men had a fluorescent orange float tied to their waist.

Once they were all submerged, all that Mary and Ruby could see were a bunch of men’s heads bobbing in the water along with the floats.

“That must be the new cold water swimming group,” Ruby explained.

Then Ruby’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“It looks like my husband has found a new hobby,” she said once she regained the power of speech.

Ruby and Mary stared out of the window, watching the men swimming by.

When Jim swam past, he caught sight of them both, raised a hand and waved.

Ruby pulled the plate with Mary’s carrot cake towards her.

“Do you mind if I have a bite, Mary? I think I need something for the shock!”

****

Later, Mary was at home in her kitchen, rolling pastry to make sausage rolls, when she heard the front door open and close. “George?” she called. “Were you expecting anyone else?” George said, coming into the kitchen. He kissed Mary’s cheek. “Did you have a good time with Ruby this morning?” he asked.

Mary took a knife and cut the pastry into strips.

“We put the world to rights.” She smiled. “Jim’s got a new hobby. He’s cold water swimming.”

“In the river?” George asked, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t get me in there. It’s toxic.”

“Not any more,” Mary pointed out. “The council cleaned it up.

“There’s fish in it now; seals have been spotted, too. Anyway, it looked like a male-only group, so they might let you join if you ask them nicely,” she teased.

“There’s more chance of me flying to the moon than swimming in that river,” George retorted. “Shall I put the kettle on?”

Mary stood stock still with the knife in her hand.

“What are you up to?” she asked.

“Me?” George feigned innocence.

“You never put the kettle on. In all the years we’ve been married, I don’t think you’ve once offered to make me a cuppa.”

“Well, I’m offering now,” George replied, struggling to lift the electric kettle along with its base.

When Mary couldn’t bear to watch him struggle any longer, she put the knife down.

“Here, let me do that,” she said.

George surrendered the kettle to Mary, who lifted it off the base and gave George one of her looks.

“Come on. I know when there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“I didn’t mean it,” George said quickly. “But before I knew it, I somehow ended up with two.”

“Two what?” Mary asked, getting exasperated.

“One’s called Dinah and the other one’s Doris.”

Mary looked George hard in the eye.

“Who? What’s going on?” “It wasn’t my fault,” George went on. “A chap came to the allotment . . .” “George!” Mary snapped. George gulped.

“I’ve bought two hens.”

More next week.