Page 3 of Old Girls on Deck
Then, having made another cup of coffee, and calmed down a bit from all the excitement, I rang my sister.
As always, she answered my call with ‘Ahoy there’, and it made me laugh.
‘That particular phrase, of which you are so fond, has just got us both into a certain situation. Are you sitting down?’ I said.
I heard a scraping noise as she pulled out one of her kitchen stools.
‘I am, fire away. You sound excited.’
‘Well,’ I took a gulp of air, ‘first of all, when is Sam’s wedding?’
Diana’s son, Sam, had recently announced his engagement to his partner, Felicity (but call me Fizz, everyone does), the willowy, vegetarian, Professor of History he had been dating for years. They were due to marry later next year in her parents’ castle in Scotland which had a wedding licence for a few select events. As his godmother and favourite aunt, okay, only aunt, I had been assured of an invite.
They were such a happy couple, but I still wasn’t sure why they had decided to tie the knot, perhaps it was for tax reasons. Perhaps they just wanted to formalise things as they approached middle age?
But what is middle age? I remember when it used to be thirty-five. Recently I read that sixty is the new forty. Which means fifty-five is middle aged, so we are all going to live to one hundred and ten?
‘They haven’t set a date yet, but they were talking about December next year.’
‘December in Scotland, what a terrible idea,’ I said. ‘I bet it’s going to be freezing.’
‘Well, yes, probably?—’
‘Anyway, that’s good because it can’t possibly clash. You know I used to listen to Radio Wonderful? I mean, I don’t now because I got fed up with it.’
Diana gave a little chuckle. ‘Yes, ghastly music, too much noise and rude words. I don’t know why you liked it.’
‘It made me laugh; and I suppose I was trying to keep up with things. Anyway…’
‘And someone is always complaining about some perceived slight. Why are young people all so angry when they have so much going for them?’
I tutted in exasperation. ‘Okay, you miserable old biddy. Calm down. What do you say when you answer the phone?’
‘You know perfectly well. I say “Ahoy there”. Because Casper was a sailor, and he always did. It was a joke.’
‘Exactly. And because Alexander Graham Bell said it was the polite way to answer the telephone. Well…’
‘Is there a point to this conversation?’ she asked.
‘If you will pipe down – which is also a nautical term – I will tell you. I was doing the ironing and watching Blue Bloods on my laptop, and watching a squirrel on the bird table, so that counts as multi-tasking I think. Apart from that, I was feeling bored, because it wasn’t even bin day, so I really had nothing to look forward to other than the possibility of the woman next door coming around to complain to Eddy about the council, when the house phone rang.’
‘Such excitement!’
‘And I answered, “ahoy there” because I assumed it was you, and of course it wasn’t.’
Diana sighed. ‘But? Do get to the point.’
‘I am, if you’ll just listen. Well, it was Steve “the Groover” Groove. You must have heard of him?’
‘Vaguely,’ she agreed.
‘You know the one. Annoying little screwed-up face, like a rabbit with constipation. He has the breakfast show; Music with your muesli. Keener than quinoa.’
I stood up and put the phone on speaker. On the screen in front of me the rough-looking detective one was frozen again, his mouth curled in another snarl, as he headed home through another derelict alleyway and on to his next adventure in pursuit of criminals.
‘Go on,’ she said.
‘Well, I haven’t listened to that channel for a bit because you’re right, and I got fed up with it; I realised the music is all the same. Everyone sounds so miserable and moaning, but apparently they have been running a competition. And I’ve won!’