‘Well, hello there. I wondered where you’d got to.’
Sue looked up and saw Charlie standing there, a half-drunk pint in his hand.
‘I was just watching the artist at work,’ she said.
They both looked over and watched as Raven put the finishing touches on what appeared to be a sunflower.
‘Feeling alright? It wasn’t too bad today,’ said Charlie. ‘Long, but …’
‘No, absolutely. I’m good. Well … a bit crickly.’
‘Is that a technical term?’ Charlie laughed. ‘Crickly?’
‘Yes. I learned it from Fola.’ She hadn’t. She’d just made it up, but the joke obviously didn’t have wings.
‘Oh,’ Charlie blew out a solitary, low-toned whistle, pointing at the empty chair beside her before sitting down. ‘Been seen by the big man, have you?’
‘No.’ She nodded towards the lobby where Flo had disappeared right after supper with two plastic bags of ice she’d bewitched from the bartender. ‘He saw my friend, Flo? Her knees are giving her gyp.’ Sue said the last part in a low voice even though Flo was two entire floors away in their room lying on the first of three single beds the hotel had somehow levered into the room. They had to walk sideways between them! Anyway. It was for charity.
‘Flo?’
‘She’s umm …’ Sue tapped her chin. She never really liked describing people. It felt … well in Flo’s case it felt unfair because she was the oldest one on the tour bar – she was the oldest one on the tour, possibly bar the two women she’d taken to calling ‘the meerkats’ and Sue was pretty sure the last way Flo would’ve liked to be described was ‘old.’
‘She’s a bit more mature than me? She’s the one who convinced Raven and me to join her, actually. Great laugh, tall-ish? She’s a really kind woman.’
Charlie did one of those circular nods. The type that said he really didn’t have a clue who she was talking about.
‘Come across anything interesting today?’ he asked after taking a sip of his pint.
‘I petted a cow,’ Sue said, brightening at the memory. It had been early on in the ride when most of the middle-aged men had hacked off at a competitive pace and slowly, but surely, everyone had spread out until they all realised it genuinely wasn’t a competition and there would be tea and biscuits for everyone no matter what time you arrived at the comfort break tent.
‘A cow,’ nodded Charlie. ‘Impressive.’
She’d thought so. It was one of many firsts she’d experienced today. Walking past a nuclear power plant. Pushing her bike up a hill. Braking down a hill. Talking to people who openly admitted to being depressed or anxious or, in one case, a terrible mother. It might not sound like much to someone who was more worldly, like Charlie seemed to be, but for her? It had been a difficult, exhilarating, scary and eye-opening day.
‘You know what struck me the most?’ she asked Charlie.
‘Tell me,’ Charlie leant in.
‘All of the people.’
Charlie’s brow furrowed. ‘Sorry, I—’
‘I know, I know – it sounds ridiculous, but … I just couldn’t get over the fact that there were all of these people everywhere. Going to the shops, driving their cars, heading to and from work, sitting on benches, walking their dogs. They’re everywhere!’
‘People …’ Charlie’s laugh was kind, but it was clear he wasn’t understanding her. ‘I guess they all can’t be in London.’
Urgh. That wasn’t what she meant. In fairness to Charlie, she didn’t know what she meant, but what she’d thought as she’d ridden her bicycle past all of those lives – lives in full flow – was … I hope they all have someone to love them.
Across the large hotel lounge, she could hear Raven ‘closing up shop’ amidst a sea of protests.
‘Honestly,’ Sue said to Charlie. ‘She’s been at it for ages. They’ve barely left her alone during teatime.’ Raven’s chicken Kiev had gone cold as people kept pushing phones in her face and asking for this flower or that to be drawn onto their shirts. She supposed she could blame Kath, who’d magicked up a brand new set of Sharpies when Raven’s own pen set had died.
The woman who’d just had hers done started singing, ‘Lucky me! Lucky me! Now I’ve got the lucky Chakrabarti Charm!’ The riders had all cheered and applauded as she grandly made her way to the lift wearing her newly decorated t-shirt as a cape.
Raven caught Sue’s eye, rolled her own then crossed over to her table with a decidedly jauntier gait than she’d ever shown. In public, anyway. ‘Here you are, Sue.’
Sue’s heart felt fit to burst as Raven unfurled a t-shirt now emblazoned with a coral rose on the back and handed it to her. ‘Oh, Raven. That’s lovely. Thank you.’ She admired it a bit more, then carefully folded the t-shirt in her lap before remembering they weren’t alone. ‘Have you met Charlie?’
Raven gave a waist-height wave. ‘Hey. I’m Raven.’
‘Charlie. Bipolar mother.’
Raven frowned.
‘Sorry,’ Charlie, laughed. ‘Being here feels a bit like being in Alcoholics Anonymous, you know?’
Sue looked to Raven. No. She hadn’t made that link either.
‘Apologies,’ Charlie held up his hands. ‘It’s my way of coping. TMI at the best of times. I just figure, if everyone knows I’m Charlie “Bipolar Mum” Stanton, then we get to avoid a
