Riding Home 35

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CHAPTER 35
What is there to write about Channel crossings? The Portsmouth route is interesting for a while, as you pass sea forts and the Isle of Wight, but soon you find yourself in the middle of ocean, no land in sight at all. That fascinated the kids, as so much else did on the trip. They had never been away from Britain, never mind on the high seas, and everything was fresh and new.

The early start told in the end, however, and they found their own perch, side by side in reclining chairs on deck, staring out over the stern at the white wake of the ferry and dozing together. Ginny was nearby, a camping mat spread beneath her as she snored the day away. I watched her face as she slept, wondering how I could ever even begin repaying the debt.

“She does look sweet like that. At least I know what she’s doing when she’s asleep”

Kate had come up behind me as I watched the trio.

“Aye, a bit of calm before the storm, isn’t it? She wakes up and it’s like someone switches a searchlight on”

Kate chuckled. “That’s my beloved, that is. I was just thinking, love, how lucky we all are. I mean, after Amy, I didn’t think, you know…I thought that was it. It only comes along once in your life, sort of thing”

She watched her sleeping wife for a few seconds. “I was so wrong, though, wasn’t I? Look at her. There isn’t a bad bone in her body, and I have to say it is a rather nice body”

She laughed again, with a little snort as she tried to keep it quiet.

“I just wish she didn’t snore quite so badly, yeah?”

“Kate, love, none of us started out lucky, did we? I mean, look at what happened before, aye? I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even Shan’s grandmother. What it is…”

I trailed off for a bit, trying to find the words.

“What it is, aye, is attitude, attitude to others. None of us dumps on other people if we can help it. I mean…look at me, aye? All those fucking wasted years, all because I didn’t want to impose, to dump my problems on someone else, on friends, aye, and then out it comes, and nobody gives a shit. No, that’s not true, they GIVE a shit, they care, and I was just thinking, how the hell do I ever repay her?”

Suddenly, I felt the tears fighting to break free. “She saved my life, Kate, and how can I pay that back?”

Kate just raised an eyebrow, and for a moment it could have been Naomi sitting there.

“You don’t get it, do you? You really don’t get it. Look, my girly is a force of nature. She’s like the thunderstorm that rolls in on a muggy day and blasts freshness into everything. She shakes things out of trees, she makes people wake up. You, though…do you not see what you do?”

I just stared at her, wondering where she was going, and she paused to collect her next words.

“Female, that’s what you are”

“I have known that since I was old enough to think straight, aye?”

“Yes, yes, but there are a number of clichés that go with it, and many of them are true. You are like me, for a start”

“In what way?”

She sighed. “You heal. You walk into people’s lives, and things start going right. I mean, look at Jan, Steph and Kelly, right? They do much the same thing, or they try to. They feel that need to pick up the crying child, soothe the pain, make it all better, yeah, and I spent seven years of study and practical training to get that ability, and you, you just know what needs doing, and you step in, and when you pass it IS made better. Why you were ever given a cock, fuck knows”

“Aye, but look at Arwel. There is someone who sorts stuff out, and he is as male as a prize ram, aye?”

She nodded. “Exactly, and everything he does is worked out, like chess, and you, you just walk in and, well, sort it. Mother hen, that’s what you are, and that boy over there, he is neither blind, nor stupid. Nor is Eric. I have to admit, I had a little difficulty with seeing you in Adam, at first, but Eric knew, and my girly, and Darren. I think you still have the odd moment, though, don’t you?”

I sighed. “Not so much since Thailand, aye, but, well, it’s only natural, when you’re, you know, unnatural”

The smile was a soft one. “That is my point, woman. You ARE natural. Everything you do is exactly what it should be, and if for once you could step behind someone else’s eyes….ah, you know what I mean. Now, are you staying here?”

I looked at the sleepers, Ginny’s rasping gurgle turning a few heads nearby.

“Someone has to keep watch, aye?”

“Aye aye, skipper! I’ll bring you a snack or something. Drink?”

“Ah, just get some bottles, then they’ll not be able to complain when they wake up, but…”

“You’d kill for a cuppa?”

“Ooooh yes”

And so the voyage went, in brilliant sunshine on calm seas, until we entered the Bay of the Seine and the traffic got heavier. The low coast was there, and the docking structures towering by the mouth of the canal. I had been there many times, but kept reminding myself how fresh this all was.

Docked, the kids squirming with excitement in the car, we waited for the scrum to start rolling forward. Out into the sunshine again, the van in the lead, we stopped and started as we wound round to the passport controls, the first flight of my new document, and not a flicker of interest from the French. Surprisingly, Geoff pulled over and parked just after the booths. We all pulled in behind, as Steph took her husband’s hand and walked back to one of the French coppers, a big man with one of those comedy French moustaches. He turned, and it was like watching a silent film, as his arms went wide, she was hugged, and after an inspection of her left hand Geoff’s was shaken with real enthusiasm before bits of paper were produced and details obviously exchanged. I realised Jan was outside our car.

“Last time we were here, she was still on the old passport. He was a darling, and she never forgets, that one. Now, we have a few miles to drive yet, so we are planning on grabbing an evening meal on the way there, and straight to bed at our first hotel, OK? This is going to be a hard few days, so get sleep when you can”

Steph finished off her social networking with a rapid series of cheek-kisses, and we were off.

It was indeed hard. Up at four in the morning for the boys’ start time, Steph and I left the others asleep up to the point where we would have to make our move to the allocated support point, where we would be allowed to feed and water our riders. After that point, it all became a bit of a blur, odd moments standing out in highlight.

Jan and Kelly set up their huge tent at one point, ready for the boys to get what sleep they could manage on the return leg, assuming they would be within the time limit, and Bill and Mark shared driving duties with the girls and me, as the children stayed with Jan. The driving…Feed the boys, top up everything, mechanical check and fettle, then on to the next stop. Feed the boys…three, nearly four days of it, and a pattern was there. The riders seemed to have gelled into little groups, not necessarily sociable, but keeping a similar pace. We saw the same bikes, the same bodies, sometimes those of our own men.

Kate gained a friend. He was one of those wiry, dark Frenchmen, which to be honest probably had more to do with him being on the bike than his nationality, but he was clearly very taken with her, chatting away in English every time we dished up food or drink. I realised he had weighed up our group, linking me with Eric and Geoff with Steph, and made the rather erroneous assumption that Bill was Ginny’s.

She was watching closely, as the flirting became more and more obvious, Kate seeming to enjoy the attention. That amused Ginny no end.

“I am going to mindfuck him in a minute, Annie! Just let him think he’s in with a chance and, POW!”

“Perhaps she’s enjoying it, aye?”

“Trust me, she’s being polite, he is just being a bloke. They speak to you, you answer, they think it means you want a shag”

Mischief was in me. “Perhaps she does?”

Ginny grinned. “You didn’t want your maggot, she doesn’t want ANY maggot! I know my girly. Fuck it, let’s play”

Ginny wandered over to the pair, and gave the man a smile, then tugged Kate round into the most toe-curlingly serious snog I can ever remember seeing done in public. I expected the Frenchman to disappear rapidly at that, but the sod just stood and watched the show, right up to the point where Ginny turned round, looked down and pointed, and that was when he bolted. She ambled back to me.

“What did you say to him, Gin?”

She grinned, and it was evil. “Nothing, really, just pointed out that lycra shorts make erections a bit fucking obvious. I was just being friendly…”

We were back with Jan a little later, and for some reason my memories seem to be entirely of night time. The boys were fading, but well within time, and that allowed them the breathing space to get some sleep. Well, two hours of it. Two of us curled up around them, and I felt Eric’s muscles twitching all through the nap. The children were shocked at their state, Darren asking if they were really doing it for fun.

Finally, finally they were on the last stretch, and we were already in the hotel ready. The two of them duly arrived half an hour inside the time limit, haggard and dirty and smelly, but it was the smell of my man, and I didn’t care. As they showered, Steph grinned at me.

“Keep an eye on him, Annie. I found Geoff asleep in the shower last time”

Not that time, however, and as all of the others went for a look round the big city, two of us just washed, dried and cuddled our men to sleep. Job done.

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Riding Home 35

Thank you for posting this sweet and fun chapter.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

We miss you , Stan

Your were a force of nature and you are missed.

Much Love,

Valerie R

It's things like this that keep me grounded....

Andrea Lena's picture

....keep me from going crazy or losing heart altogether?

The smile was a soft one. “That is my point, woman. You ARE natural. Everything you do is exactly what it should be, and if for once you could step behind someone else’s eyes….ah, you know what I mean."

That feeling of being inauthentic; no hope of change in the physical in this lifetime, but then a sister or daughter or niece reminds me of the spirit of Andrea within me...that tells me no matter where and what may future may hold, it holds all of them and me firmly by the hand of the woman I am. You reach in and grab my heart and caress it and make it know healing and joy, Stephanie, and I cannot thank you enough for that!


Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Look Out For Lycra!

joannebarbarella's picture

Gotta be careful with those really tight fingies. Speedos for swimmers are even worse. Ginny and Kate should be given a heavy belt with a strand of wet spaghetti for leading the poor man on,

Joanne

Partnerships and friendships.

/

A Nice ride around Manchester to finish off the Sparkle weekend.

This chapter demonstrates how partnerships and friendships are the very nuts and bolts of survival though such traumatic life issues. Annie's a lucky girl to have such support, but I've said that before. This chapter just reinforces that view and it describes the connectivities really well in humane, compassionate and realistic circumstances.

Nice chapter Steph though I've rarely ever had a wind free crossing of 'La Manche'. Dunno' but all my crossings seemed to be windy ones.

Thanks.

Bev.

XZXX

bev_1.jpg

Just what I needed

Was having a bit of a down morning and this did wonders. Thanks as always.

Maeryn Lamonte, the girl inside

Maeryn Lamonte, the girl inside