Page 67 of Old Girls on Deck
Evelyn nodded. ‘You know what Mark Twain said, “Writing is easy, all you have to do is cross out the wrong words.”’
‘I think there’s probably more to it than that,’ Diana said. ‘I’m not sure where I would start.’
‘Nonsense. And in the meantime,’ Evelyn said, ‘if you look out of the window, you can see Naples. As Shelley said, “A plane of light between two heavens of azure.”’
It didn’t look much like that when our excursion coach left the port the following morning.
We got on with everyone else and Raphaël was there of course, taking pictures of us.
Diana seemed rather annoyed. Perhaps she was embarrassed.
‘Does he have to be around at every opportunity,’ she said, ‘and I know he is taking pictures of you, but why me too?’
‘He likes you,’ I said, ‘there’s nothing wrong with that is there?’
I sat down by the window and Evelyn slid in beside me. She was looking cool in a flowery silk dress and a strange sunhat with a long peak over her face and a trailing flap of fabric down the back.
Diana went to sit behind us, pointedly keeping to the aisle seat so that there was no chance Raphaël would join her. He made no comment, just went to find a place at the back of the coach.
There was the usual tangle of containers, cranes and concrete buildings, and the traffic was terrible for a while. There seemed to be a lot of roadworks and men in high-vis jackets shouting at each other and at the cars. Occasionally someone would get out and look helplessly at the line of vehicles ahead of them and wave their arms about, and then there would be another argument, accompanied by a lot of car horns blaring.
‘It’s the passionate Italian temperament,’ Evelyn said soothingly, ‘it’s a wonderful thing to experience under other circumstances. I remember one summer in Campania in the Sixties, when we were first married. Douglas was working in Rome, and we rented a villa on the coast where I stayed with my school friend, Eleanor, and the heat in the city was punishing. My word, one couldn’t move for fabulous, sloe-eyed, snake-hipped young men. Promising undying love, offering to be one’s slave for a kind look. Eleanor and I had such fun. I think she received more proposals than I did. But she was practically engaged to a chap who worked for some American company. He had just proposed, and she said she needed time to consider it. I said eighteen was far too young to get married. But in those days… I remember she used to get very edgy because of all the pasta. She was very proud that she had an eighteen-inch waist, smaller than Princess Margaret’s apparently, something she reminded us about on many occasions.’
Eventually the traffic thinned out and we were off along a wide highway leading past the looming bulk of a large mountain.
‘Is that what I think it is?’ Diana said, poking her head through the divide in the seats.
Evelyn nodded. ‘Vesuvius, the cause of all the trouble. There used to be a bar right at the top, wonderful views if you don’t mind the smell of sulphur. I wonder if it’s still there.’
‘Let’s not find out,’ I said, wondering if the white clouds above it were actually steam.
Evelyn shook her head. ‘We won’t have time. I saw a BBC documentary that said it usually erupts to devastating effect every two thousand years. And the last time was AD 79, so it’s probably due any day now. Apparently the blast travelled at one hundred kilometres an hour. I don’t think the ship can go nearly that fast. What did they call it? A sand blast? An iconoclast?’
‘I think it was a pyroclastic surge,’ Diana said.
‘That’s the fellow,’ Evelyn said happily.
I looked up at the bulk of Vesuvius again and I hoped those really were clouds.
17
We got to Pompeii about half an hour later and made our way to the Porta Marina entrance hall where we met our guide who was a tiny, young Italian woman dressed in flowery dungarees and a batik print T-shirt. She had also deliberately dyed her hair grey – something I will never understand, heaven knows the grey makes an appearance for free soon enough on its own. She had five earrings in one ear, perhaps it was her favourite one, or she was young and didn’t know any better. It’s one thing to have a hole punched through an ear lobe and quite another to go through the cartilage. Surely it must hurt? Outside there was a wonderful view over trees, grass, and ruined houses.
She clasped her hands in front of her and did a funny little heel jump, which was rather charming.
‘My name is Isabella. I am so excited to show you the many wonders of Pompeii. This is the Marine gate, where there are two entrances. One for people, the other for traffic,’ she said. ‘There are ruts left by the iron wheels of the carts, as you will see.’
We followed her up a slight slope and through into what remained of the town. Turning, I saw no sign of Raphaël. Perhaps he had gone off on his own to photograph things.
‘These houses have been badly damaged,’ she said.
‘Awful, there’s hardly anything left,’ Diana said.
‘By bombs falling during World War II,’ Isabella finished. ‘There was also a less devastating eruption in 1944.’
‘Poor old Pompeii couldn’t catch a break,’ Evelyn murmured.
Unaware of the nature of her companions, Isabella skipped ahead pointing out important features and mosaics, until she realised her group was going to proceed at a far statelier pace. Ken and Thelma were already sipping at their water bottles and remarking on the heat. Dorothy repeatedly dodged into the houses for shade when she got a chance and quickly requested a comfort stop when she saw a toilet block.