Wedding anniversary plans

“Can you keep a secret?” my mother asked me, as soon as the waitress left our table.

It’s not something she usually asks me or anyone else to do, so I paused before I answered, quickly running through all the possible scenarios she could have in mind. Nothing obvious occurred to me, apart from her upcoming wedding anniversary. It couldn’t be that though, as my parents never have secrets from each other.

“Of course,” I finally answered, stirring my coffee as I spoke.

“Great. It’s nothing horrendous, or I wouldn’t be asking. It’s just something I don’t want your dad to know – for a little while at least.”

She paused to slather strawberry jam on the scone that she had already buttered and then topped it off with a thick layer of whipped cream. I waited patiently until she was ready to continue talking, as I knew from experience that no amount of prompting would make her explain things any quicker than she wanted to.

“Well, you know it’s our thirtieth wedding anniversary next month. Silly me, I mentioned it the last time we met, didn’t I?”

I wanted to say yes, I knew all about it, but she didn’t give me the chance to get a word in edgeways.

“And I’m sure you’ve heard him say how much he would love to drive a sports car – a real one I mean – one of those supercars that all the footballers and the film stars buy. Not that he’d ever want to own one, he’s far too sensible for that. He just wants the chance to drive one.”

She took a bite of the scone, creating a rim of red and white along her top lip, when the jam and cream squelched upwards. I was on the point of mentioning it when she wiped it away with her serviette.

“Well, I’ve booked him in at that race track down the road. They do those day experience things, where you can go and live out your fantasies. He’ll have the choice from three of those Italian makes you see in the glossy magazines. A professional driver will take him round the track to show him how the car reacts and then dad can do five laps behind the wheel. I’ll take him out for a pub lunch afterwards. I’m sure he’ll love it. What do you think?”

She took another bite of her scone and waited for me to reply.

“It sounds ideal,” I replied. “What day have you arranged to do it?”

“Our anniversary falls on a Friday, so I’ve booked it for then.”

It was a logical answer really, but it threw me into a panic. My sister and I had been trying to arrange a surprise of our own for that day. We were planning on taking out parents out to a local stately home for the day, including a slap-up meal in their restaurant. We were only waiting for my brother-in-law to confirm that he could take the day off work before we could make the necessary reservations. I must have frowned without realising it, as mum asked me what was wrong.

“Sue and I were planning on seeing you that day,” I replied rather limply.

“Oh! I didn’t know anything about that.”

“Well, it was going to be a secret.”

Mum sipped her Lady Grey tea, whilst she was thinking.

“Why don’t you come along too. I’m sure the track will let us watch your father and then we can all have a meal together. Actually, Sue is always taking films with that camcorder of hers, so she could film it too!”

“Nice idea. It would give us all a memento of the day. I’ll give her a ring tonight and let her know.”

“Mum’s the word,” mum said and giggled like a schoolgirl.

I telephoned Sue that evening to warn her of the change of plans.

“No problem,” she said. “There are several pubs nearby, so we can take them out for lunch. Oh, and by the way, Seb managed to get the day off, so it will be the six of us.”

Six, a nice round number I thought. Mum and dad, Sue and her husband Seb and my partner Jude and me.  If the weather were nice, which it should be in mid-July, it would be a brilliant way to celebrate a wedding anniversary.

I searched on the internet and found a suitable pub about five miles from the racetrack. It was on the edge of a village and had a large garden with tables, so we could sit outside and enjoy the countryside. The food was a mixture of traditional English cooking and a smattering of Mediterranean and Far Eastern cuisine. Something for everyone. I rang and made a booking.

I thought everything was settled, until dad telephoned me three days later. I need to explain here, that when my parents ring me, it is usually mum who speaks first. She tells me all the gossip, asks my news and then hands over to dad. I couldn’t remember dad ever talking to me before mum, so I began to panic.

“Hello dad. Is everything OK? Is mum alright?”

“Yes, yes, of course she is. I needed to ring you whilst she’s out at her evening class. There’s something I need to ask you and you must promise to keep what I’m saying a secret.”

I guessed immediately it must have something to do with the anniversary but had no inkling what it could be. Dad is not particularly romantic and usually celebrates by buying mum some jewellery and taking her out for a meal.

“Sure. What is it?” I asked.

“I wanted to take mum to Paris for a few days, but with the corona virus restrictions I can’t do that. So, I thought it might be nice to take her back to Edinburgh. We went there for our honeymoon and she’s often said she’s like to return. What do you think?”

I was surprised, as it was such a touching gesture.

“I’m sure she’d love it dad. When are you planning on going?”

“On our anniversary of course. It wouldn’t feel right otherwise. I’ve even managed to book the same hotel. We’ll fly from Gatwick up to Edinburgh and then we can get a taxi from there. It isn’t too far.”

He sighed.

“The only thing is that the hotel won’t let us book in before noon and if we take the early flight, we’ll arrive too soon. We’ll have to wander round Edinburgh without luggage for a couple of hours. There is a later flight that gets us there late afternoon, but it seems a waste of the rest of the day.”

I was mentally calculating how long the sports car experience would take, then the lunch and then the journey to the airport. It would be a very tight squeeze but might just be possible. The problem was persuading dad to take the later flight, without revealing what mum had in mind. The meal wasn’t so difficult, as I could tell him we wanted to take them out but didn’t want mum to know. I was half-listening to what dad was saying when I realised he was talking about a candlelit meal.  

“Dad, sorry to interrupt, but Sue and I were thinking of taking you both out for lunch and if we did that I could drive you both to the airport, you could take the later flight and have your candlelit dinner. I could ask mum to show me what she’s been doing in the back garden when we come round to collect you and you can slip out to the front and put your luggage in the boot.”

There was silence at the other end of the line for a few seconds. Then dad replied.

“Yes, that would work out fine. I won’t tell her about the lunch if you and Sue keep quiet about Edinburgh.”

“It’s a deal.”

When I finished talking to dad, I rang Sue and relayed dad’s news. Like me she was worried about the logistics of the day.

“I think there’s a restaurant at the track. If we can eat there, it would save some travelling time. Why not ring them and ask if they can help? They might even be able to provide a picnic or something.”

I could have kissed when she said that. The track is famous for its annual vintage theme weekend, when people dress in 1940’s clothing, the paddock is filled with old cars, some of which race each other and people bring their own picnics.

“I’ll ring them tomorrow when they open and let you know what happens.”

Promptly at ten o’clock the following morning, I rang the track restaurant and explained our predicament. An extremely pleasant and efficient voice told me not to worry. It was something they often do and a picnic hamper for six would be waiting for us when we arrived, together with chilled champagne and elderflower cordial.

I rang the pub and cancelled our table, telling them that we would book again for another day. I emailed Sue to give her the revised schedule in writing, with directions to the racetrack. Everything seemed back on course again.

Much as I love Jude, he is rather absent-minded and can easily say the wrong thing at the wrong time. I didn’t think explaining all the secrets to him was a good idea, as I was sure he would muddle them up and let something slip. I simply said we were taking my parents out for a drive in the country and then we were meeting Sue and Seb for lunch. If he mentioned anything to the wrong person, it wouldn’t be a disaster.

Then it was a matter of keeping my fingers crossed that the heavens wouldn’t open that Friday.

I watched the weather forecast the night before anniversary with trepidation. Sunny, with a light breeze and temperatures in the low twenties. Just what we needed.

The track was booked for 10 o’clock, so I arrived at mum and dad’s at nine, to leave sufficient time to get there. I asked mum to show me the veg plot she had been tending so lovingly and mumbled the appropriate words about how healthy her brassicas were and how well the strawberries were growing. She didn’t notice dad sneaking out to the front garden with Jude, so he could deposit a small suitcase in the boot. He was on the point of making us all a coffee, when mum said it was time to leave.

“It’s a bit early to go somewhere for lunch,” he commented.

“I thought we could go for a drive first,” I replied, earning a glare from mum, who thought I was going to let the cat out of the bag. I ignored her. “It’s such a nice day and it seems a pity to sit indoors.”

Luckily, dad didn’t ask where we were going, so I was able to drive towards the track with no problems. It was only when I turned into the driveway that his suspicions were raised.

“What are we doing here?”

“You’ll find out in a minute,” mum replied.

When we reached the car park Sue and Seb were waiting for us, together with two members of the track staff. One was wearing race overalls and had a helmet tucked under his arm. The other was holding a sheaf of paperwork. He greeted us and took us into the restaurant, where he ran through the safety requirements with dad, whilst the rest of drank coffee. When it was time for dad’s drive to start, we found places in the grandstand, to watch the action. Sue had brought her camcorder with her and had been filming on and off since we arrived. Now she stood up and filmed as much of dad’s drive as she could see from our vantage point.

When dad joined us, he was beaming with excitement and happiness. He enveloped mum in a bearhug and I heard him tell her it was the best present he had ever had.

We collected our picnic basket and sat in the paddock eating our lunch and chatting about family memories. In the background we could hear more sports cars lapping the track, their tyres screeching as they rounded the bends.

“What shall we do this afternoon?” mum finally asked when we had finished eating.

“I’m sorry, but Seb and I can’t stay,” Sue replied. “I promised to babysit for a neighbour before I realised we were all meeting up today.”

“I’ve got to drop something off for someone, but if you fancy coming for a drive with us, you’re welcome,” I offered, hoping that mum would agree.

“That would be lovely,” she said. “Maybe we can find somewhere on the way back for tea.”

When we left the track, I knew I would have to take a direct route to the airport so mum and dad could catch their plane. Luckily, that meant driving cross country, with us only picking up the main road for the last few miles. Even though mum had been chatting away merrily to dad in the back of the car, she noticed soon enough when I took the turning for Gatwick.

“Don’t worry mum, this is where I’m doing that drop off.”

She eyed me suspiciously, especially when I stopped at the short-term parking bays. Jude got out of the car to collect the bag from the boot.

“Come on love,” dad said, opening the car door for mum. “We’re off to Edinburgh! You said you’d like to go back one day, so I’ve booked the weekend there.”

Her mouth dropped open, then she turned to me.

“You were in on this, weren’t you?”

“Yes mum. I told you I could keep secrets. Have a lovely time.”

Dad ushered her off into the arrivals lounge, seeing the parking attendant approaching us with his pen in one hand and a notebook in the other.

“Shove over,” Jude said.

“What? You’ve been drinking,” I replied.

“I only had half a glass of champagne: the rest was that elderflower cordial.”

We switched seats and Jude drove off just as the parking attendant was putting pen to paper. She shook her head and returned her notebook to her pocket.

When we left the airport, I was expecting Jude to turn left, towards home, but he turned right.

“You’ve taken the wrong turning,” I said.

“No. I know where I’m going. I’ve got a surprise for you. I’ve found a site a few miles from here where we can go glamping for the weekend! I thought we deserved a break too.”

Jude isn’t usually impulsive, but he had chosen well: a wooden shepherd’s hut set on the edge of a wood, with views across the countryside. It proved to be a memorable weekend for all the family.