January 2012
Roger made his way down to breakfast in the Beaumont Guest House. He hoped to complete a decent walk today, maybe eight miles, just to limber up. A middle aged couple sat behind him in silence, until another couple made a noisy entrance and joined them.
'Morning Major.'
'Morning Fawlty.'
It was obvious of these couples holidayed together regularly and had established well-worn patterns of greetings and responses over the years. He came to know the quartet as Alfred and Susan, and David and Vi.
Roger studied the map and decided to take the path from the village. He felt like a rest from driving.
'What time shall we muster, did we say 10 Oclock?' Alfred's voice was always louder than the rest.
At noon, Roger sat on a rock to eat his pasty. It was a year since Marie had died and this was his first walk without her. He was lost in memories when a familiar loud voice intruded, 'Let's stop here for lunch, Susan. Get that haversack off and let's see what we've got.'
They had stopped a few yards from Roger, but luckily a bush hid him from their view. David was in full flow, 'He's got that AC/DC – always cleaning – uses a toothbrush on the stairs.'
'I told him he can do mine!' Vi retorted.
David continued, 'He is orange, but not that fake stuff. He strips to the waist and then runs from Wheeler's gate to the top of the pier; that's half a mile, but he does it twenty six times. His knees are all shot. We went to Cyprus and who should we see – him and his wife.'
'He is married then.' Susan piped up.
'Yes, but she's had to put up with a lot over the years. The daughter and grand children don't come – they hate him – she has to visit them.'
As David took a breath, Vi chipped in, 'They have two daughters, one is married . . .'
'And one's a dyke!' David interrupted triumphantly.
'Nothing wrong with that.' muttered Susan.
Alfred seemed to wake up and unexpectedly shouted, 'Too many egos . . . The egos have landed!'
Roger sighed deeply as he heard them trudge away. Their relentless voices were, thankfully, fading into the distance. Suddenly he realised that there were worse fates than being alone.