The adventure begins for real ….
They could hear the bell echoing behind the door but Joni didn’t appear. Waiting on the doorstep Fran began to feel a little anxious. She turned to the others and shrugged her shoulders.
“I’ll go round the back,” Betty set off round the house only to appear a few minutes later opening the front door to let them in. “Menopausketeers to the rescue,” she said as she gestured for them to enter.
“Joni is reading menopause blogs to help her make the decision about whether to go to the doctor to get HRT.” She said over her shoulder as she returned to the kitchen where Joni was leaning over her laptop trying to ignore the invasion of her privacy.
The three women joined Joni at her kitchen table and sat awkwardly not knowing what to say.
“I wish I had asked my Mother about her hormonal profile,” stated Joni. “I might have had an idea about how long it’s going on for.” Betty reached over and switched off the laptop. “Get dressed, get your bag and let’s get into Dora. Hormonal profile my arse, reading these blogs is not going to help. Come on.” She gently put her arm under Joni’s elbow and lifted her to her feet and propelled her up the stairs. Ten minutes later they were piling into Dora and getting ready to open the magic box.
“Right, let’s see,” said Fran. The box was glowing as Fran slowly opened the lid to expose a needle and thread, three tampons and, as in their first trip, a closed cardboard box.
“Ha!” burst out Helen.
“Slightly ironic,” stated Betty and she visibly shivered.
“Tina Tardiff and the tampettes,” said Fran.
“What?” squeaked Joni.
Fran looked at her friends and laughed. “Sorry, just remembering the band I was in at college. We were rubbish, only got bookings because of the name.”
“What do you think those are far?” asked Helen.
“You can use them for loads of things,” stated Betty. “They are very flammable apparently. You can use them to start fires.”
“They don’t start barbeques in the wind at youth hostels on Arran,” Fran said firmly.
“And you know this because?”
“It was desperate measures, fifty children waiting for a burger.”
“Well, interesting things in store for us by the looks of it. I wonder where we are going,” said Helen.
“As long as there is a bit of fizz and some sunshine it doesn’t matter, we are out and away,” she looked at Joni who was very quiet and smiled. “Get some John Denver on Fran so we can all sing along. That’s one of the good things about being older you don’t have to try to be cool anymore.”
“Right you are Betty, country roads west of Scotland here we come!” said Fran over her shoulder as she eased Dora out of Joni’s drive and onto the road.
The beautiful west coast scenery flew past and the women were quite for a while with their own thoughts. Helen who couldn’t stand silence for too long asked.
“What’s in the trailer Fran, it looks a little bigger than last time?”
“Yes, it is a lot bigger than last time,” said Dora as she bravely struggled up a slight incline in the road.
“Mmm, well, after the complaints about the facilities last time I have upgraded a little.”
“Good to hear,” said Helen. “I might need to avail myself before too long.”
“I could do with a rest myself,” puffed Dora.
Fran pulled into a lay-by overlooking Loch Fyne. They slid open the side door and Fran put the kettle on.
“Well can we see it?” hustled Joni.
“Patience.”
“Is it a wet room?” asked Helen.” I often want a shower first thing in the morning.
“Ha, I often want one in the middle of the night,” laughed Betty.
“Is it a sauna?” asked Joni.
“Ha, you hardly need one of those, just shut the door and pour some water over me,” laughed Helen.
“Right bring your tea and we can have a look.” Fran led them round the back and opened the door to reveal a fully fitted bathroom with shower and toilet..
“Wow, impressive!” said Joni, “and this year I don’t need that bloody hoist to get me in.” She climbed in and shut the door.
The women sat cradling their tea and listening to the birds and the wind rustling the long grass by the road side. They felt content to be together to be out and, to be within a group where there would be no judgements about moods or lack of focus or having to explain about feeling anxious about things which you don’t really need to feel anxious about.
“Do you wake up at night and remember stupid things you said during the day?” asked Joni.
“I remember stupid things I do night and day,” answered Helen.
“It’s crap, I know but let’s have a break from the menopause and try displacement therapy,” suggested Helen.
“Yes please,” said Dora.
“You going to adjust our chakras Helen?” laughed Fran.
“You may laugh but I have bought you all a pair of reiki pyjamas to sleep in.”
“Good grief, as if,” said Betty.
“Oh ye or little faith,” muttered Helen.
After a cup of tea they carried on down Loch Fyne side towards Tarbert. As they turned a sharp bend in the road they could see a young man in a kilt, he appeared to be having a fight with himself. He was thrashing about at the side of the road and looked up alarmed when Fran guided Dora to a halt beside him. He looked both angry and embarrassed and that was before he saw that the VW camper van parked beside him flashing her hazard lights was full of women of a certain age. Angela woke up and started to growl and throw herself at the window.
“Well now, there’s a handsome young chap,” muttered Helen.
“Mmm, wouldn’t throw him out of bed for eating crisps,” agreed Betty.
“Ladies!” hissed Fran.
Betty looked wounded and challenged, “What?”
“Yes, what?” laughed Helen. “We’re not dead yet and I have a very fertile imagination.”
“Well, save those thoughts for now ladies I feel we have arrived at the first stop on our adventure.” Fran jumped out and opened the side door so that the women could climb out. They stood by the side of the road staring at the young man. Angela threw herself down into the ditch and began to jump up at the young man.
“What’s happened, can we help,” asked Betty.
The young man blushed violently and all of the women immediately felt very sorry for him. “I stepped off the road because a huge lorry was coming, slipped and fell onto this barbed wire fence but because of falling down the ditch I can’t reach to free myself. I cannot believe how tightly it has got fixed into the material.” He looked down obviously very embarrassed.
“I am sure we can pull you out,” Helen said slipping slowly down the bank.
“Well, I’m not sure,” he started.
“Young man,” said Betty in her taking over voice. “To you, we may look like a load of women, probably ages with your mum, but I assure you we are more than capable.”
Fran brought her tow rope and Betty organised them into chain to attempt to pull the young man, they found out his name was Gus, out of the ditch and free him from the brier. They dug their feet in pulling like a veteran tug-of-war team and slowly but surely Gus began to move up the bank towards the road. Suddenly with a sickening tearing noise Gus came free from the fence leaving his kilt still attached. He immediately dropped the rope to cover his modesty and the women fell back into an undignified heap by the side of the road.
“Think he probably needs to borrow your reiki pants Helen,” quipped Betty which caused them all to burst out laughing which only served to increase Gus’s severe embarrassment and bring the blush back to his cheeks. Taking pity on the young man, Fran threw down a towel and he made his way up the bank to lean against Dora grasping the towel very tightly. Fran slid down and assessed the damage to the kilt it was coming loose and with a final tug and a horrible tearing sound it came free. .
“Just a wee sewing job and you will be right as rain,” she informed him. “Why don’t you avail yourself of the facilities,” she said pointing at the trailer.
“Come in son, I will show you,” said Betty reaching out for his hand which he refused to give her. He sidled along keeping his back to Dora until he reached the trailer where he literally hurdled onto the platform and threw himself into the shower room, slamming and bolting the door.
“Wowsa,” said Helen. “Think he needs a rub down?”
“I certainly do,” laughed Betty.
Fran reached into the magic box to retrieve the needle and thread. “Perfect match,” she said as she sewed the strap back on and mended a long ragged tear so that the kilt would once again be wearable.
Once dressed respectably again Gus seemed to relax and even accepted a lift to Tarbert, his original destination. He was heading for the Islay Frigate Hotel where he was meeting his band to play a gig.
“Let’s go and hear the band,” suggested Fran.
Later as they cradled their whisky and enjoyed the jigs and reels of Gus’s band, Helen asked Fran if they were a patch on Tina Tardiff and the Tampettes.
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