Cath Staincliffe: Half the World Away

‘Still got her camera, then,’ Nick says. He thought she shouldn’t take it with her. We’d splashed out and bought it when she started at Glasgow. He worried it’d get stolen.

‘Don’t stress,’ Lori said. ‘I’ll be careful.’

That’s a first, I thought, but I didn’t join in.

Nick raised his eyebrows.

‘I’ll be insured,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I’ve had it for three years and I’ve not lost it yet.’

She has a wonderful eye for colour and composition. The sweeping beaches and vivid seascapes she’s posted might have come from a glossy brochure. Just looking gives me itchy feet. ‘We ought to book somewhere for next summer,’ I say to Nick. ‘What about those French campsites with all mod cons? Are they expensive?’ With my job we always have to take holidays when school’s closed and the prices are at their highest.

‘Find out,’ he says.

‘Finn and Isaac would love it.’

We’ve had a succession of wet summer holidays in Wales and the Lakes. The thought of another damp fortnight trying to entertain the kids, traipsing around petting zoos, going to unfamiliar swimming pools or sitting in family rooms in pubs with steamed-up windows and the stink of chips makes my heart sink. The prospect of fine weather day after day, the kids roaming free and making friends, four of us swimming in the sea, and watching the stars with no need for jumpers or waterproofs has the opposite effect.

‘Either that,’ I say, ‘or a cheap and cheerful package somewhere like the Algarve or Menorca.’

‘Be hotter there,’ he warns.

‘I’ll wear my hat.’

I reread Lori’s blog, which makes me laugh, and then we look up the places she’s photographed on Wikipedia, Chon Buri and Ko Samet. It looks like she’s having the time of her life.

Lori in the Ori-ent

Rule Number One: Don’t drink the water

Posted on 28 November 2013 by Lori

Everyone says this. It’s up there in travel advice for all Westerners entering Vietnam. But the water has a way of sneaking up on you. That apple you eat, the tomato, the pak choi – they need washing first. But NOT in the water.

And what about the bean sprouts? They grow in the water, they are full of the stuff. So avoid all water-based veg. In fact, ditch salads altogether.

Make sure everything you eat is cooked until it is unrecognizable. Not hard here. Below I’ve posted a selection of dishes we’ve had over the last week or so. Can you identify anything? (Rice doesn’t count.)

Another thing to remember is that water can be disguised – as ice. So sling the cubes. And don’t suck up steam either if the opportunity presents itself. The heat might make the vapour sterile, but a scalded face is so not a good look.

Don’t use water to brush your teeth. Duh, right? You need to use bottled water for that too. This was my downfall. The habit of turning on the tap is so deeply ingrained that after making this mistake, following a suitable period of illness and recuperation, I found the safest thing to do is brush my teeth far from any sinks. It can get messy but not half so messy as the results of breaking the rule. I won’t dwell too much on that except to say it was like a cross between the movies The Lost Weekend and Cabin Fever interspersed with outtakes from the UK show Embarrassing Bodies (does what it says on the tin), that I lost eight pounds, four days of my life and that I LEARNED MY LESSON. Lxxx

PS Some people will tell you the water is fine. They lie.

PPS Mum, don’t worry, I’m fine. Just a lot thinner than you remember. #Notdeadyet.

Autumn is the busiest term in school – new admissions, appeals over school places as well as all the celebrations – harvest festival, Diwali, Hallowe’en, the Christmas fair and then the Christmas show. The tradition in our school is to involve all the junior children in the performance so it is usually an all-singing all-dancing version of the Nativity story. The infants learn the songs so, although they’re in the audience, they can sing along.

It is early December and most of the children have gone home. I’m printing out song sheets, just two waifs and strays with me: James Porringer, whose mother relies on the bus to get here and is often late when the service is delayed, and Courtney Collier, who can’t remember who is picking her up today, Dad, Mum or Nana. I suspect one of them has forgotten too. Courtney has gone very quiet, and looks close to tears, so I ask her and James to count out some song sheets into piles of thirty.

I like the feel of the place outside hours: it’s not spooky, like some old buildings can be, but has a warm, slightly worn, homely feel to it. As though it’s soaked up the affection and energy of all the generations of children it has seen come and go.

I’m sending another batch to the printer when my phone beeps: email. It’s from Lori.

From:

loreleimx@gmail.com

Date:

6 December 2013 23:08

To:

joannamaddox70@hotmail.com; NickMyers@firenet.co.uk; tombolmaddox@aol.com

Subject:

New Plans

Hi, I’ve had an awesome offer to go to China with Dawn. She’s really nice and she’s been once before so she can show me the ropes. The plan is to go on to Hong Kong from here, have Xmas and New Year there and get our visas then get to Chengdu sometime in January (it’s near where they have the pandas). It’s a really big city, but supposed to be laid-back compared to Beijing. We’ll have a month there. It means I won’t get back until Feb so tell Finn and Isaac I will bring them special late presents then.

I’m a bit low on money so Dad is there any way you can send me some via Western Union? I need to buy plane tickets soon. We’ve found some for £700 – Dawn says that’s cheap because it’s three flights altogether (includes my return from China). Tomorrow would be good. Thanks soooo much!!!

Suze had to go back to Oz her dad is very ill so she can’t go with Dawn as they planned. Dawn did journalism at home and she’s hoping to make documentaries in the longer term. I told her she should do some pieces for my blog.

Lxxx

I feel a clutch of disappointment that Lori won’t be here for Christmas, that it’ll be another month after that. And then a flare of irritation: everything was arranged, agreed – why couldn’t she just stick to that? Impulsive. The words ‘like her father’ hover in my mind. Maybe Tom won’t send her the money. As soon as I think it, I feel ashamed. If Tom can’t or won’t then we’ll find it, increase our overdraft if need be.

There’s the noise of someone arriving: James’s mum, red-faced and breathless. ‘Sorry,’ she calls to me.

‘Don’t worry,’ I say. ‘He’s been helping me.’

James goes pink and his mum smiles, kisses his head and bundles him off.

Then the office phone rings and it’s Courtney’s grandmother full of apologies and promising to be there in five minutes.

The first chance I get to call Tom is after tea. We haven’t spoken since the day we took Lori to the airport.

‘It’s all a bit last-minute,’ I say to him. ‘Anyway, can you transfer the money?’

‘Sure, there’s a place up the road does it nowadays,’ he says. ‘Have you been reading her blog?’

‘Yes. You heard anything else about this Dawn?’

‘Only what she said in the email.’

I wonder if Dawn is more than just a friend but don’t particularly want to speculate with Tom. Lori’s impulsiveness sometimes extends to relationships. She falls hard and fast and can get hurt. The worst was a girlfriend she had at school. Saskia went on to a different sixth form and broke up with Lori soon after. Lori messed up that school year and had to repeat it. There were a couple of relationships at uni but they seemed fairly casual. As if she was protecting herself from anything too deep.