Lilian Kendrick - Always Something There To Remind Me

‘Don’t be afraid, Lydia. He’s not going to hurt you. See – he’s waiting for you to climb onto his back.’

The gull sat down! I don’t know if that’s the right term to use for when a bird’s legs disappear underneath it and it sort of rests, but that’s what it looked like. I did as I was instructed and hauled myself onto his back. It was surprisingly comfortable. I could hear Max telling me not to be afraid; to relax and tell him what was happening. It was hard to speak at first as my feathered friend took off gracefully and soared into the sky with me on board! We dipped a little and turned right, heading towards the mountains.

‘I’m flying!’ I managed to get the words out at last. ‘I’m sitting on the back of a seagull and flying towards the mountains. Oh my God! I’m actually flying!’

‘You’re not afraid are you, Lydia?’

‘Not at all!’ I surprised myself with that statement. ‘It’s wonderful; I could stay up here for ever.’

I reached forward and patted the head of my seagull. ‘Thank you, sweetheart! Thank you!’ For several minutes we swooped and glided, then the gull turned back towards the town. I could see the beach on the right, far below us, and we started a gentle descent as the hotel came into view up ahead on the left. That was when it all went horribly wrong! The sky was darkening rapidly as we neared the rooftop and then …

The explosion shattered the trance and I sat bolt upright in the chair and shrieked.

‘We’re going to crash! We’re going to crash!’ Max jumped up from his stool and came to calm me down. He sat on the arm of the chair and took my hand.

My thumb, acting independently, pushed the speed-dial button on my phone and through my sobs I could hear Des shouting, ‘I’m coming in!’

Max stroked my hand. ‘It’s a thunderstorm, that’s all. Nothing to be afraid of.’

I felt like an idiot as I came fully to my senses and realised that the rain was lashing against the window and periodic flashes of lightning were illuminating the rather overgrown garden.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Mesmero …’ I began, taking a deep breath to control myself. The door burst open at that moment. Max leapt to his feet and turned to face the intruder just in time for his nose to collide with Des’s fist. He lost his balance and fell to his knees, howling in agony and holding his cravat over his nose which was bleeding profusely. Des stepped around him and came to my side.

‘Are you OK, Lyd? What happened? Should we call the police?’

Fortunately for all of us, Max Mesmero’s nose wasn’t broken and he decided not to press charges, as long as I agreed to pay for the damage done to his front door when Des broke in.

So I left his house fifty quid poorer and still terrified of flying.

Chapter 3: Stars on Ice

I hate Wednesdays. I used to think it was because Wednesday is as far from last weekend as it is from the next one. That may well have been true once upon a time, but nowadays the weekends aren’t that great either. Whatever the reason, I was having an attack of the usual Wednesday blues when Trudi called round after work.

Trudi and I go way back. We were at school together a hundred years ago, or so it seems. The boxes I was rummaging through were full of shared memories and proved to be a fine source of entertainment.

‘I can’t believe you’ve still got all this stuff!’ She flicked through the rough book that was on the coffee table, stopping at the list. ‘Ah, there it is! I threw mine out years ago.’

‘I’d forgotten you had one too.’

‘Oh yes! We wrote them together, one wet lunchtime when we had to sit in the library.’

It was coming back to me now. ‘Yours was much more sensible than mine, though. All about passing exams and earning loads of money.’ I laughed. ‘Actually, you did pretty well on both of those, didn’t you?’

‘Your exam results were better than mine, and the money never seemed to matter to you.’

‘No, I don’t suppose it did much. I just wanted to be happy …’

‘It’s never too late, Lyd. Now you’ve found your list again, you can make it all happen.’

‘That’s what Des said.’

She squealed with amusement then, as she picked up a copy of Go Girl! , the magazine I’d been addicted to thirty years ago.

‘Josh Greenwood!’ she shrieked. ‘You still have all the pictures of him! You were totally obsessed.’ She leafed through the pile of battered posters on the coffee table. ‘So what are you going to do with them? eBay?’

I stared at her in amazement. ‘How can you even think it? I could never part with them. He’s still on my “most wanted” list.’ I smoothed the creases out of an ancient picture, cut from a magazine so long ago. It had always been my favourite and for years it had occupied the place of honour on my bedroom wall, right where it would catch my eye as soon as I woke up in the morning, fresh from dreaming about him! Glossy, black hair framed a perfect face with brown eyes to die for, dramatically outlined with black eyeliner. His dark shirt was open to the waist revealing the band’s name, ‘Luvsik Kitten’, tattooed above his heart. How my teenage hormones used to race! Trudi studied the picture with me.

‘Hmm! He was pretty, I suppose, but he was never my type,’ she said.

‘I seem to remember you always liked older men.’

‘Cary Grant and Frank Sinatra, that’s right. Real men.’

‘You sound like my mother sometimes!’ I laughed.

‘So how’s it going with your list? Are you ready to fly around the world yet?’

‘Not quite. The hypnosis thing didn’t work out. I don’t want to talk about it.’

But of course, an hour later, after we’d shared a bottle of wine, I told her all about it.

‘I’d love to have been there,’ she said, hardly able to contain her giggles. ‘I can just imagine it!’

‘I bet you can’t. I felt such an idiot. Scared of a thunderstorm, and then Des rushing in like some kind of superhero and punching the guy …’

‘That’s rather sweet really, having your own personal bodyguard. Anyway, when am I going to meet your Des?’

I felt a blush rising from the base of my neck, but I didn’t really know why. ‘He’s not my Des; he’s just … Des, and I suppose you can meet him any time you like.’

‘OK, so he’s not your Des, but I’d still like to meet him. Bring him over tomorrow night.’

‘We can’t come tomorrow. It’s our writing group on Thursdays.’

‘OK, the pub a week on Saturday?’

‘Maybe. I’ll ask him. Anyway, I’ve given up on the flying for now.’

‘So what’s next?’ She was looking at the list. ‘Skating?’

‘I suppose so, but that’s even scarier than flying.’

‘It’s easy. I’ll teach you. We can start on Monday after work if you like.’

Oh dear, I’d be lucky to get out of this without a few broken bones.

* * * * *

Trudi was waiting for me in the car park at the Ice Cube, her skates slung around her shoulders. She looked me up and down as I got out of the car.

‘I’m glad you took my advice about the leggings.’

‘I hate the things. They make me look huge. I wish I’d worn jeans.’

‘Jeans get damp when you fall and then they’re too heavy to move about in.’

‘You’re not exactly inspiring me here.’

‘Everyone falls over sometimes, especially beginners.’

Standing up in skates was a nightmare. For the first time in my life I realised why it takes babies so long to learn to walk. I don’t think I’d ever considered it before. My ankles didn’t want to co-operate at all and kept trying to bend at angles they weren’t designed for, and that was before I got onto the ice.