Girls Just Want To Have Fun

           Bonnie swung the car around the hairpin bends with their views across the Carpathian mountains. She hadn't told Lulu about the car that went over the edge two weeks before but the remains were still there, wheels uppermost, and Lulu shrieked when she saw the taped-off area. The Transfagarasan highway had claimed another victim.

       "The lake at the top is stunning, darling, worth the ride I promise."

       Ceausescu's crumbling road had been built for tanks, not a rented Skoda.

       "That's it, Mother, last time. This is not a quiet week in the mountains. Christopher was right; you're too old for this. And so am I." 

Bonnie was glad she hadn't mentioned the brown bears that liked to sit in the road and hold up the traffic. And that Lulu couldn't see in the interior mirror.

       I wanted her to marry Mr Right, not Mr Always Right. She used to be fun.

#

       "Eighty is not old."

       "What were you thinking? And you're eighty-three."

       "And you act like you are."

        Mother and daughter glared at each other. Bonnie's arm was strapped across her chest, since falling off a chair while changing a light bulb; she did not need a referral to the Falls Clinic, she wanted to go home and she told the doctor so. Lulu could roll her eyes and make huffing noises; Bonnie was adamant, no more tests.

       “Well you can’t live alone any longer.”

       Bonnie knew this was coming. She’d fought ageing; couldn't bear the thought of being dumped in an old person's home. Force-fed pureed food, every day the same. It would be a life sentence, punctuated by her attempts to escape.

#

       Margaret Beaumont, Bonnie, was a four-foot-ten bundle of energy. Her enthusiasm for life made her stand out in a crowd; even when it towered above her head, they would hear her commanding tones. 

       "Skittles tomorrow girls, three o'clock, then we’ll go to Marconi's for an early dinner and back home in time for the dancing." 

       Ending the group chat, Bonnie switched on the television. There was a YouTube video of her friends in Namibia she needed to catch up with. The images of elephants at a muddy waterhole, swishing water at each other, brought back memories.

#

       "I'm soaking, Bonnie. It's not funny."

       Tom had stalked back to the lodge, his hackles raised like an angry cheetah. Bonnie gave a thumbs-up signal to the culprit, a mud-splattered baby elephant, and settled back to watch the wildlife parading under the setting sun. No, Tom, I don't think the elephants are stupid at all.

Tom hated Africa, too hot, too dusty, too much spicy food. 

       "Well, what did you think it would be like, Brighton? Paris? You took the job, Tom."

       Bonnie was shoving clothes into a suitcase. Not even halfway through a three-year contract, he'd asked for a transfer back to London. And not told her until the deed was done. She adored African life; the markets, the ladies swaying in their bright wax print dresses, and the mixed heady scent of spices and diesel fumes. For a moment she thought she should have stayed, but a secret of her own put paid to that. And despite his stuffiness, she loved him.

#

       There were five of them: Bonnie, Mo, Sally, Jane, and Kathy. They had not known each other for long but had spent much time together. They were all a similar age and shared many of the same interests. Saturday was their usual day out, although Bonnie liked to ensure they kept busy.  

       Monday; a walk around the lake, in a fragrant park, flowerbeds all well maintained. They would collect wildflowers on the lake's edge, although Mo said some, like primroses, had protected status and should be photographed but not picked, and that Bonnie should not get too close to the water. Tuesday; jigsaw and crossword puzzles in the village hall. Wednesday was art and crafts with cake and coffee; flowers for pressing and framing, and pine cones to be sprayed gold and used in their Christmas decorations. Thursday meant choir practice in the morning and yoga in the afternoon. Bonnie liked yoga. It meant she could sit and plan, while masking her busy mind with a serene smile. Friday most of them shopped. The Buzzybus took them to the local supermarket or into town. Sundays were for family visits.

       Sunday, thought Bonnie, is not my favourite day.

#

       Saturday’s skittles match was a success. Sally and Jane took on Kathy and Mo. Kathy said Sally cheated and had added an extra ten points to her score. Bonnie checked Sally's adding up, which, as usual, turned out to be wrong. This time she under-counted. Kathy wasn't a good loser, but the girls were all laughing when they got to the restaurant.

       "Did I tell you girls about the time I went to Montecatini Terme with Luca?"

#

        Luca was a charmer and Bonnie was alone; it was her first trip to Tuscany since her world had changed, and she was looking forward to sampling the soothing treatments at the spa and seeing the famous Fontana Guidotta.      

       "English? Are you looking for a guide?"

       The rate he was charging seemed reasonable and Bonnie was happy to have some company. Thirty years younger than her; a blond-haired blue-eyed Tuscan, he stood out among the boys hovering around the hotel entrance. She was surprised when he arrived the next morning in an ageing, yellow, Fiat 500, with a pink rose on the front seat. Bonnie bought lunch, and champagne for herself and San Pellegrino for him. He laughed at her jokes and complimented her Italian. For two weeks he hung on her every word, and Bonnie enjoyed the flattery. 

       "Bonnie, my car is broken, and I am poor, will you buy me a new one?"

       She smiled at him, patting the hand that rested on her arm.

       "Oh, Luca. My dear boy. Of course not. Do you think I don't recognise three-hundred-euro trainers when I see them. Now, help me with my bags, I have a plane to catch."

#

       "I paid him well for his company."

       "Bonnie, you're shameless. The poor boy could have been genuinely fond of you; you may have broken his heart."

       Poor Kathy has no sense of fun. I must work on that. And it was only a distraction, Tom, nothing more.

       Enzo, the restaurant owner, joined them at the table, his eyes lighting on Jane, the newest recruit to the group. 

       "Jane doesn’t cook, Enzo, but she's an excellent dancer." Bonnie said. Even to her, it sounded like a C.V.

       "Really, Bonnie. I don’t enjoy cooking, but I do like eating out and I'll come here again."

       "Jane would like to learn Italian." Bonnie invented. "Now that Mario is running the restaurant, don't you have time on your hands, Enzo?"

       Jane's face had taken on a pink hue.

       "Well, yes, I have time, but I would not like to say I would be a good teacher, but I would be happy to try. I hope I will see you here again before long." 

     He bowed to the group and returned to the kitchen. His son, who ran the restaurant, looked across at Bonnie and nodded.

     "Enzo has been on his own for far too long." She said.

      A brief journey and the girls were all home and settled. Dancing at 7 pm was next on their busy agenda, but Bonnie was thinking about tomorrow.

#

       "Well, how the hell did that happen?"

       "Do you need me to answer that?"

       "Don't be so bloody facetious, Bonnie. You were still taking the pill? It is mine, is it?"

       She slapped him hard, leaving fingerprints on his cheek. How dared he doubt her? Was it her fault so many men enjoyed her company? She was friends with their wives too. They stood, facing each other. To Bonnie, it felt like a lifetime. He left the room like a thundercloud waiting to burst. She didn’t speak to him for two days, waiting for him to apologise, burdened with guilt for striking him. But the pause was too long. It had been so much fun; falling in love, getting married, travelling for his work. Tom never said no to children. He always said, not yet.

#

       On Sunday morning, Bonnie got up early and made a cake. It was her usual routine. Half for Sunday tea and the leftovers for arts and crafts on Wednesday. She tidied, plumped cushions, dusted picture frames; perfect, she thought.

      "Hello, Mother," her daughter, Lulu, bent down and kissed her cheek. 

       "Hello Margaret." Christopher said. "Keeping busy?" He asked the same question every week.

       "It’s Bonnie, Chris," she knew her son-in-law hated the diminutive. "It has been since I was four." He grinned at her. Perhaps after thirty-plus years, he was loosening up? She doubted it.

       Never Maggie, or Peggy, she was Margaret to her mother until the day her uncle and auntie treated her to a new dress and mum lifted her and said, ‘aren't you bonny.’  

       "Alright you two," her daughter put a small bunch of freesias on the table; Bonnie's favourite. Tom used to buy them for her and their sweet scent reminded her of him. "How are you Mother? What have you been doing?"

       Bonnie smiled, what should she say? I’m so thrilled dear; off to Nepal next week; hang-gliding down Everest. How would that go down, and what other shocking revelations could she invent? 

       "Fine, darling, I went out with friends yesterday but nothing more exciting than that."

       Lulu's face brightened. Bonnie knew her daughter wouldn't be at all surprised if she decided to emigrate or take up mixed martial arts. Lulu was a daddy's girl.  

#

       She couldn’t move out, but she wasn’t backing down.

       “I didn’t say get rid of it. It was a shock, that’s all. Just a flippant remark. You’re, I don’t know, unpredictable I guess, Bonnie.”

       She had travelled halfway around the world for Tom's job being the dutiful hostess, the organiser of his life.

"I could have had a career too. For once you can put someone else first.”     

         It was an uneasy six-month truce.

         Huge blue-black eyes under curled lashes fixed their gaze on Tom's face. His hand caressed the tiny cheeks and his lips curled as the baby's rosebud mouth nuzzled at his finger. He looked up at Bonnie; bloodied, bruised, and exhausted after nineteen hours in labour.

        "She’s gorgeous.” The crack in his voice took her by surprise. “I'm sorry, Bonnie. Honestly, I'm so sorry."

        He leaned across the bed and kissed her. Then wrapped himself around his daughter's fingers.

        Twenty-two years before a massive heart attack dropped him like a hammer blow, on a heartless Sunday afternoon.

     #

       Tea over, and alone again, Bonnie slumped in her chair. She loved her daughter, but she was so straight-laced. I’m sure we brought her up to be more adventurous. Did I get it wrong, Tom? She poured a small Glenfiddich and put her phone on silent. Then switched on the television and settled back in her recliner; results time.

              #

         Monday dawned cool but sunny, perfect for going around the lake. They met outside the village gates.  

       "Well girls, what did you think of last night? Did the right person go out?" 

       They talked about the results of their favourite dance show, the costumes, music, and what shocking things judge Bruno said. It was their Monday ritual. Bonnie manoeuvred herself around to Jane.  

       "Enzo is charming, isn't he? "

       "Bonnie, you are such a matchmaker, he might have a lady friend. But, yes, he looks lovely. I’m lucky, I have good friends here, but I would like someone to cuddle"

       "His son would love to see him happy with someone, why not you? Look at you, so attractive and clever."

       She squeezed her friend’s hand.

       "Girls, Jane and I have a hair appointment tomorrow so won't be available for crosswords."    

       Jane’s raised eyebrows made the others laugh. 

       "I've spoken to Enzo. He’s expecting us both at two, although I shall cry off with a headache once I’ve seen you safely there; but we're getting our hair done first."

        On Wednesday little work was done in the Arts and Crafts room; the girls were agog to know about Jane's Italian lesson. They admired her new hairstyle and begged for details of what Enzo had said.

       "Enzo is delightful, and a much better teacher than he thinks. We did some basic sentences, like ordering coffee. I'm going back tomorrow so I'll miss yoga, but it is going to be so hard," she said. "I’m fluent in French, German and Italian but I have to pretend to know nothing."

       Bonnie gave a satisfied grin as she drove back to her apartment; it gave her pleasure when her friends were happy. Mo loved the choir she'd formed. It was a chance to show off her soft soprano voice. Jane was coming out of her shell. Now to work on Sally, who wanted to do an Open University course but didn't have the confidence to sign up. Kathy was going to be more of a challenge. A bit like her son-in-law. Ah, well, Rome wasn't built in a day. It's his birthday soon, perhaps he'd like tickets for a segway safari? She chuckled, knowing he'd settle for the Royal Albert Hall.

#

         The mobility scooter scorched around the corridors: Bonnie's days were full of activity and she’d made wonderful friends. And, if she fell off a chair the sensors in her apartment would alert the staff. Despite her reservations, it had worked out well, taking Lulu and Christopher's advice and moving into the Lakeside Retirement Village.  

       She turned out okay, Tom, our girl.