12. Ready to Depart

Stella is beginning to wonder about who Donna really might be...

STELLA‘S AUTUMN

12. Ready to Depart

The rest of the holiday passed by almost too quickly. There was an hour’s cruise on the Dordogne river in which they were told that the hundred years’ war was fought in pat in the area. Then they enjoyed another hour on a steam train which gave them an ideal opportunity to seey some of France’s finest rural scenery as well as experience travel of the more recent past, and then they were packing their cases ready for the return home.

“Well, it seems an age since that row over the Lascaux caves,” sighed Stella, referring to the attitude displayed by Donna and Tony on the evening after rthe trip to the caves.

“What did you make of Donna?” asked Percival. They hadn’t discussed the odd argument with a women who seemed far too full of her rightness of her own opinions to be taken seriously.

“If you’re wanting to talk about cows, then she’s one,” sniffed Stella, “I’ve not met many women so sure of the morality of their own opinions as she is”

“There are some,” agreed Percy, “and if you want to broaden it to include men, quite a few in my own profession.”

Stella grinned at him. “I’m glad it was you who said that,” she almost laughed.

“It’s true, though. And you might even include me in that group. You see, and you might have noticed this, I have one set of beliefs, and in my own mind they’re set in stone because if I tried to test them against my experiences in the real world I might find myself troubled.”

“That’s honest of you, my love.”

“You called me your love!”

“Well, Mr Vicar, I loved you crazily fifty-odd years ago, and I think I love you still.”

“Crikey…” he spluttered, “darling,” he added.

“Donna and that quiet bloke of hers, Tony, are far from typical of the rest of the party,” sighed Stella, changing the subject to one less personal/ “Most have been either good fun or quietly enjoying themselves, but she’s all opinions.”

“Come on, pack your last things and we’ll leave our cases to be taken down to the coach,” Percy said, noticinfg that time was moving on. “then we’ll nip to breakfast in the dining room and when we’ve eaten out fill we’ll be off for the reverse of our journey to get here.”

“As a gholiday, it’s only been a few days, and most of it spent on or near the coach, but it seems to have lasted forever,” sighed Stella, “I bet the caves were your highlight, and I did like them too, but my favourite has got to be that river cruise. The scenery was quite splendid, and the history that guide told us put a lot of the lessons I learned at school and have since forgotten into context.”

“Once, during the hundred years’ war between our country and France, English soldiers would have fought and maybe died near that river,” murmured Percy, “and, who knows, some of thre fallen may have been out own distant ancestors…”

“Now you’re getting morbid! Come on before you have me wondering if it’s worth our while digging up the banks of the river, looking for old bones!” teased Stella.

“Ok! I’m coming!” he smiled, and pushed their cases out of the door where they’d be collected by the hotel staff and taken to the coach for them. Then they made their way to the dining room.

The woman they’d been talking about, Donna, Was waiting in a group of others for the hotel stuff to open the dining room door for breakfast, and to their surprise she took Stella to one side.

“A word,” she said, looking around, making sure she wasn’t being overheard,

“Yes?” asked Stella, not actually liking the other woman too much.

“I wanted to apologise. For the other night. I mean, I was out of order.”

“You were?”

“Tony told me when we got back to out room. He really opened my eyes. Remember, I was a bit horrible about people living together when they’re not married, and Tony reminded me…”

“He did?”

“I shouldn’t tell you, but I will. When we got married, or when I truly believed that we got married, Tony took me to Las Vegas for the ceremony and we got married out there, it was so special, and I’ll remember it for ever, only…”

“Yes?”

“Tony reminded me the other night. We’re not properly married, not in the eyes of the law or the Lord. It was a wonderful bit of theatrical drama and I loved it, and I wore a ring after it, but the certificate they gave us isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. We’re not married, not properly. And I didn’t know until the other night. I’ve lived in sin for all these years!”

Stella might have looked shocked or even mildly surprised but she didn’t.

“Why are you telling me?” she asked.

“It’s just that… you said you weren’t properly married either… my own parents weren’t, you know… my mum was a ditzy young student, that’s how she described herself when she told me, and I never met my dad. He was some sort of student and, this is impossible, he was going to be a priest or something… But I never knew who he was. It’s not really true sin, is it, if you believe you’ve done something, and you haven’t?”

“Certainly not,” put in Percival, who’d been listening in over Stella’s shoulder, “but tell me, if you will, about the ditzy young student who bore you into the world…”

The conversation might have carried on from there, but with a surge all those waiting for the breakfast room to be opened moved in to find their seats when it was.

So Percy’s question remained, for the time being, unanswered, and Stella herself questioning the rare antics of coincidence. Could it be? She wondered, and shook her head. Of course not! But… how old was Donna?

© Peter Rogerson, 15.07.23

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