‘Well, you’ve certainly got the weather.’
‘I know, it should last too.’ Adira had looked at the long-range weather forecast. It was early June and, luckily, the warm spell would see her nicely on the way to Scotland. Today’s conditions were ideal for driving, as her dad had told her after looking the camper van over. He’d tested the air pressure in the tyres and checked the oil and water. He also had insisted that Adira join the AA and download their app, just in case of emergencies. All good advice, which she’d taken. And now, it was time to go.
After putting gran’s medical kit in the camper van and the map on the passenger’s seat, she gave Edie one last hug. Her heart was pounding, this was it, freedom at last.
‘Text me when you arrive tonight.’ For the first time, her gran looked concerned.
‘I will.’ Adira climbed in and slammed the door shut. ‘Wherever that will be,’ she mouthed through the window, then blew a kiss.
Edie stood at the bottom of the drive and watched her go, until the sky-blue van disappeared round the corner.
‘There she goes,’ she whispered, ‘God speed my love.’
Closing her eyes, Edie prayed she’d done the right thing, knowing full well where the blame would lie should anything go wrong. She could see her daughter’s finger now, pointing straight in her direction, that look of derision scouring her face. ‘It’s all your fault,’ she’d say, making Edie feel the inadequate mother she perpetually did. It had always been the case between them. Chalk and cheese, complete opposites – only in this case never attracting. Especially when it came to Adira.
In the very beginning, Edie had fully understood her daughter’s overprotectiveness with Adira. She had been born prematurely, only just surviving as a newborn. Flashbacks of that tiny scrap of pink flesh, wired up in the incubator fighting to exist, were enough to make any mother overprotective, of course they were. But it hadn’t ended there, Cleo’s safeguarding gradually morphed into something a little more sinister than just a watchful eye. She became obsessive about her daughter’s safety, paranoid about where she was, who she was with and what she was doing. Cleo vetted Adira’s friends, making sure they were from the right background, living in a good area. Then inevitably came the boyfriends, raising Cleo’s paranoia. Once she’d secretly followed Adira on a date, to make sure she was OK. Cleo hated the idea of her precious daughter going into town, what if he tried to get her into a pub and drink underage?
Edie had learnt all this from Pat, her son-in-law. He had confided in her after his attempts to try to calm Cleo down and just let Adira live her life had proved futile. Cleo simply wouldn’t listen; she knew what was best for her daughter, she’d tell him, like he didn’t! Edie had intervened and tried to reason with her, make her see sense. This had had some effect. But, in time, as Adira’s A levels had loomed, Cleo began to pile on the pressure once more. She devised revision timetables, banned the TV and took away her stereo. All for her own sake, she’d tell Adira, who had protested fiercely. In the end, Adira had buckled down to get the results needed for Oxford University, but not because her mother wanted her to, it was an escape route. Adira was urgently seeking a way out, Edie knew. She couldn’t wait to leave home and her mother’s regime. She hated it. Growing up under Cleo’s scrutiny was suffocating.
Her only respite had been Edie. Often she would stay with her and together they’d talk. Edie tried to be impartial, not wanting to be disloyal to her daughter, but it was hard when seeing the effect Cleo was having on her granddaughter. It was clear that Adira had been pressurised, especially regarding university and her chosen subject. Cleo had pushed heavily towards her studying law, seeing it as the perfect option for such an intelligent girl. Adira had once mentioned maybe working in a solicitor’s office, like one of her friends had, but Cleo had dismissed the suggestion and told her to aim high, train to be a barrister and earn lots of money. From then on, Adira’s path had been set, and her mother was right behind her all the way, whether she liked it or not.
Luckily, Edie knew, Adira had enjoyed university life. More than anything, she had flourished with the independence it gave her. Not surprisingly, she hadn’t gone home much, but chose to visit her gran, who lived nearby. Cleo was just plain relieved that her daughter had made it into Oxford, telling her friends and anyone who’d listen how clever Adira was. Ironically, having Adira away at university made Cleo calm down and actually focus on her own life. To her husband’s relief, she slowly but surely grew back into the Cleo he had first fallen in love with. Whilst still serious in nature, she had lightened up a little and often made suggestions of weekends away, dining out, concerts and nights at the theatre. All the things they’d once enjoyed together. Edie had been delighted by the change. In short, Adira moving out had given themallspace. And whilst also delighted by Adira’s success as a barrister, she still sensed a restlessness in her granddaughter. But had Edie gone a bridge too far by encouraging Adira to go off travelling? She hoped not.
After a while, Adira grew tired and was in need of a break. She decided to follow the signs leading her to the Cotswolds. She’d once visited there as a child and remembered enjoying the old-world country villages. At the time, she had been readingCider with Rosieat school and the idyllic childhood of Laurie Lee had resonated with her.
Coming off at the junction on the motorway, she drove to a quiet road and pulled in to study the map her gran had given her. She couldn’t recall the place she’d previously been, but plumped for a village called Bourton-on-the-Water. The name sounded rather quaint and it piqued Adira’s interest. She quickly searched for it on her phone and soon learnt it was known as the Venice of the Cotswolds and was famous for its honey-coloured stone architecture and charming village scenes.
Sounds lovely, she thought.
However, on entering the place, Adira had instant reservations. Yes, it truly was a picturesque, beautiful village, with its arched bridges spanning the river Windrush, but unfortunately the world and its wife thought so too. It was packed. A victim of its own beauty, she concluded, wading through the traffic, stopping for people crossing the road, armed with cameras. It was way too much of a tourist attraction for her.
Disappointed, Adira drove straight through and stopped at a garage on the main road outside the village to refuel. Once there, she bought a sandwich and a coffee, then parked in a space at the side.
Feeling a tad disheartened with her first choice, she consulted the map again whilst eating. She thought of travelling further up north, given the favourable driving conditions. If she rested for half an hour, then nipped to the garage loo, she’d be able to drive for another three hours, Adira estimated. This could take her as far as… Cheshire, she decided. Yes, Cheshire sounded like a plan.
Looking at where exactly in Cheshire to stop, she once more searched the area on her phone. Liking the sound of Alderley Edge, famed for being the champagne capital of Britain, with its quality restaurants, trendy bars and even trendier boutiques, Adira chose to stay there. She was also intrigued by the Wizard’s Well – a place where, legend had it, King Arthur was buried beneath the hill in a stretching honeycomb of caves! Adira laughed to herself. Yes, she’d go and explore Alderley Edge.
It was early evening by the time Adira reached Cheshire. Tired and hungry, she followed the signs to Alderley Edge. Immediately she was struck by the opulence of the area, expensive houses in pleasant countryside that was obviously popular with the wealthy. Where could she park? This didn’t look like a place to have a local campsite nearby. Instead, a rather swanky hotel was set back off a busy road.
Adira’s stomach rumbled. She’d only eaten toast and a sandwich all day and all the driving was taking its toll. She considered the options – or lack of them: the hotel looked like the only choice.
In the end, she took the bull by the horns and drove her camper van up the wide, gravel driveway to the front of the hotel. Parking Sheila up and feeling a touch self-conscious, she entered reception. Wearing a loose, cotton tie-dyed dress and flip-flops earned her one or two curious stares. However, the young man on reception was most polite.
‘Can I help you, madam?’
‘Err… yes please.’ Adira lowered her voice and leaned forward, ‘Could I possibly park my camper van in your car park overnight? I’ve been driving all day and I’m—’
‘Exhausted?’ he smiled.
‘Absolutely,’ she nodded.
‘There’s a staff car park round the back,’ he quietly told her. ‘Providing you dine with us, I can’t see it being a problem.’
‘Oh, thank you!’ she gushed.
‘What time shall I book dinner for you?’
‘About an hour? Give me chance to change,’ she whispered awkwardly, looking round at the cliental.
