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‘Probably.’ She let out a throaty laugh. ‘Like I said, absence makes the heart grow fonder.’
‘Number thirty-two,’ a robotic voice buzzed over the intercom.
‘That’s us!’ I jumped up out of my seat and we rushed over to the booth where a middle-aged woman with thick glasses looked at us expectantly. ‘Hi, we need to get visas for India, please.’ I slid our passports under the grubby glass screen and checked my watch.
‘You got your forms?’ Glasses Lady asked in a bored, nasally tone.
I jerked my head up to face hers. ‘Forms?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Your forms – we need them to process your application.’ She sighed. ‘All this information was on our website.’
Bloody hell.
With our customers we simply put them in touch with Sanjay’s visa services and he got on with sorting that aspect out. I didn’t know that there were forms involved.
‘Erm, no, we don’t have any forms.’
The woman sighed and looked at the queue of people behind me. I could feel Mr Smug India’s eyes on me; bet he had bloody forms.
‘What’s the matter?’ Shelley piped up.
‘We were meant to bring some forms,’ I grumbled.
‘Forms? I thought we just got a stamp in our passports and we were on our way?’
‘Me too.’ I let out a deep breath and turned to Glasses Lady. ‘Do you have any forms here we could fill in?’
‘All the forms are online.’ She was loving the power; you could tell.
I tried to stay calm. ‘So we need to go home, download the forms, fill them in and print them off then come back here? To join that queue again?’ I was so behind I just didn’t have the time for this.
‘Well, they’re the rules.’
‘Seriously?’ I gave her my best begging look but she just continued to stare blankly at us.
‘Come back with the forms and your passport-sized photos. You do have your passport-sized photos, don’t you?’ I bit my lip and shook my head. ‘Well then, I’d be getting a move on if I was you. We shut in two hours.’
I flashed her an insincere smile. ‘Great, well thanks for your help. Come on, Shell.’ I turned on my heel and walked to the front door.
‘Wait? She can’t be serious?’ Shelley gasped. ‘Seems a bit over the top if you ask me. What did she say about passport photos?’
‘We need some, pronto.’
Shelley nodded, then added quietly, ‘Thought you knew about this sort of stuff.’
‘Please don’t start.’
‘You ladies OK?’ Smug, gorgeous Mr India know-it-all sidled up to us as I shoved my passport back in my bag.
‘Fine,’ I muttered.
‘You don’t know where there’s a photo booth near here, do you? Or an Internet café? We need to download some forms.’ Shelley flashed him her most dazzling smile.
‘It’s fine. We’ll find somewhere.’ I placed my hand on her shoulder, trying to steer her past this irritating guy.
‘I’ve got some spare forms here that you can use.’ He rustled in his black leather man-bag. Course he did.
‘Wow, that’s really nice. Isn’t it, Georgia?’ Shelley beamed.
‘Hmm. Got a mini camera in there too to take our photos?’ I said sarkily. Why was I being so obtuse with this man? There was just something about him that got on my nerves.
Mr India laughed. ‘Nope, but there’s an ASDA not too far from here where you can get some printed. If you want, I’ll save you a place in the queue.’
I was just about to tell him that we didn’t need his help when Shelley clapped her hands and thanked him profusely before tugging me out of the doors to the supermarket.
‘He was so nice!’ she mused as we trudged over the slippery pavements. ‘And bloody gorgeous.’
‘You’re too trusting,’ I said, narrowly avoiding stepping into a pile of fresh dog turd.
‘Pfft. And you’re too cautious. You can trust people, even strangers; sometimes they really do just want to help a girl out.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ I muttered. I wanted to add that I spoke from experience of misreading people who I thought I could trust, but I stayed quiet, as in a weird way I wanted to be proved wrong.
True to his word, Mr India was indeed waiting patiently for our return holding out forms and even a stick of glue to attach our admittedly awful-looking passport photos.
‘Here you go, ladies.’ He handed them over, stifling a laugh at my photo. ‘So, Georgia Green and Shelley Robinson,’ he said, reading our names off the forms. ‘I hope you have an excellent time in India. Right, I’d better be off. Oh, my name’s Rahul, by the way.’
‘Thank you so much, Rahul!’ Shelley called out behind him just as our number was called. ‘God, what a nice guy. Shame we’re both taken; well your heart is taken, as otherwise this trip could be getting a lot hotter – and I don’t mean the spicy curries.’ She laughed, pretending to fan her face as Rahul walked off.
I mumbled a response. ‘Come on, let’s get this sorted.’
‘That was quick,’ Glasses Lady murmured as she took our forms. ‘OK, these look all right.’ I let out a sigh of relief. ‘I’ll get them processed and let you know if you’ve been successful.’
‘Wait – if we’ve been successful? So even after wasting our whole morning here it still isn’t guaranteed that we’ll be granted a visa?’ She shook her head, making her dangly earrings jangle loudly. ‘Well how long is that decision going to take?’
‘If you’ve been approved then you’ll receive your passport back with visa in ten business days.’
‘Ten days!’ I screeched. ‘I thought you just gave us a stamp in our passports? We’re leaving in ten days!’
She gave me a look that screamed not my problem and pointed to a small notice taped to her booth that said verbal abuse towards staff would not be tolerated. I tried to calm down. ‘You’d better hope it arrives in time then.’ She glared at me and hollered for the next customer. ‘Number fifty-nine.’
‘So much for being spontaneous,’ I grumbled as we walked out of the soulless visa office into a torrential rainstorm. The heavens had opened and the wind whipped our cheeks as we trudged to the bus stop. Shelley stayed silent during the whole bus journey to the other side of town.
I walked through the door of our shop, dripping wet and covered in goosebumps, which did not improve my mood. It felt like this trip was doomed before it had even started. Although, I did cheer up drastically when I realised that we had a visitor. Sat in my chair cradling a cup of tea was Trisha, Ben’s godmother and my friend; I couldn’t stop the grin taking over my wet face.
‘What are you doing here?’ I said as I pulled her in for a hug.
‘Hello, dear, got caught up in that storm did you?’ She nodded at my soaked trousers. ‘Well, I hear the weather in Delhi is much nicer this time of year.’ She winked.
‘Ah, so Ben told you.’
‘Yes, oh how exciting! You are going to love India. Every time I’ve been I swear I’ve ended up leaving feeling like a changed woman,’ she gushed. ‘It is the birthplace of spirituality after all and just has this aura about it. India inspires, thrills and frustrates like no other country.’
‘You can say frustrates again,’ I grumbled, hanging up my jacket that was dripping on the floor. ‘I’ve spent all morning waiting in line at the visa office and still might not get it in time before we fly.’ I sighed, trying not to panic about what would be the alternative if my passport didn’t arrive back before our flight. I could picture smug Rahul shaking his head at how late we had left it to sort out.
‘Ah yes, I know it is a pain but it will be worth it once you step off that plane in such a wonderful land. It’s an enigma; nowhere stirs the soul like India does. You’ll see.’
‘Hmm, I’m not sure I want my soul stirring.’ I winced.
‘Oh but you don’t get a say in the matter.’ Trisha chuckled. ‘Mother India will do what she wants.’
I nodded as if I knew what the hell she was going on about. ‘Anyway, how are you?’
‘Fine fine, getting used to this retired life has been a bit of an adjustment.’ She flashed a bright smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.
‘You know you could have stayed working here?’ I said.
When we first decided to launch Lonely Hearts Travels, Trisha had still been running her Making Memories tours but we quickly overtook her loyal base of clients and merged the two together to create Young At Heart. Pitched as small groups to European destinations where solo mature men and women could experience one of our less lively but still as wonderful tours that Kelli liked to call Randy Retirees. So far it had really taken off with retired over sixties looking to spend their children’s inheritance on treating themselves to travel. Trisha still popped in every so often but her visits were a rare and delightful surprise rather than routine.
She patted my hand; I was taken aback by how translucent her wrinkled hands were next to mine. ‘I know, but this is yours and Ben’s baby now.’ I blushed. ‘You know what I mean!’ She laughed. ‘It is looking so good in here; Kelli was just telling me how busy you have all been. I think she was hoping for a pay rise.’ Trisha winked.
‘Wouldn’t we all.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘So have you started any new hobbies then? When my dad retired it seemed like he suddenly sprouted green fingers.’
Trisha shook her head. ‘Not me, I can barely keep cacti alive. I have been reading a lot more and catching up with friends now that I have more time on my hands.’ The way she said this was as if it was more a chore than a freedom. ‘I’m sure I’ll find my feet soon.’
She smiled brightly and began flicking through one of our brochures when a thought suddenly came to me.
‘Trisha, what are you doing on the twenty-seventh?’
She looked up. ‘Nothing. Why?’
‘How about coming out of retirement for a while?’
CHAPTER 7 (#ulink_a8557964-ff85-5f98-af9d-fce8a764f4ec)
Nescience (n.) Lack of knowledge; ignorance
‘So, did you say a fond farewell to lover boy?’ Shelley pretended to smooch a cushion as she watched me repack my backpack in my small lounge.
‘Hmm, more of a see-you-in-a-few-weeks-oh-colleague,’ I replied, thinking how tense the past two weeks of work had been. I’d purposely tried to avoid any conversations about India, knowing I’d overstepped some invisible line between us. ‘I don’t get it. OK so yeah, I did spring this whole travelling to India idea on him, thanks to you.’ I shot Shelley a look. ‘But he was the one who said he thought I should go. That it was for the best we had a break from each other.’ My stomach skipped remembering the look in his eyes as he’d told me that, disappointment etched on his tired features.
‘Well, he’s probably feeling slightly jealous.’ Shelley shrugged.
I looked up at her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘He loves to travel; you knew that from the moment you met him.’ I thought back to the collection of postcards sent from exotic destinations all around the world when I first stepped foot in Trisha’s travel agency. I’d nosily read these postcards written by a guy called Stevie, Trisha’s godson, without knowing Stevie was Ben Stevens. ‘He’s probably just sulking that he can’t go to India with you,’ she offered.
‘Maybe,’ I said slowly. It was true he probably did feel like his wings had been clipped since taking on the business. There were times when I’d spot him looking through our brochures and gazing at pictures of idyllic beaches and remote jungles, but whenever I asked him about it he would snap his head up, plaster on a smile and tell me he didn’t regret a thing about starting the business. I just wished that he’d added ‘with you’ on the end of that sentence.
‘Right, I reckon we finish up here and head to the pub,’ Shelley said jumping to her feet.
‘I dunno, I’ve still not checked I’ve got everything I need.’ I nodded at my half-filled bag.
‘Pfft, we’re going for two weeks. All you need is a couple of pairs of knickers, a toothbrush and your passport.’ Our passports had been returned just this morning, complete with Indian tourist visas; I could have cried with happiness when Kelli signed for them. ‘Come on, Miss Spontaneous, let’s go and have a drink – get us in the mood for tomorrow’s journey!’
Walking into the dim light of my local pub, hearing the jingly tones of the fruit machine and breathing in stale cigarette air masked by bleach, I remembered why I hardly ever came here. But it was cheap, close to home and the locals were friendly enough. With Shelley putting our order in at the bar, I sat down on one of the grubby seats and got my phone out. Trisha had been thrilled to be back working in the shop whilst I was away, and Ben had seemed pretty happy too. It solved the problem of finding a temp and meant I knew everything would be looked after in Trisha’s very capable hands. I know I was only going to be away for two weeks, but a lot could change in that time. I was just scrolling through my emails, making sure I’d forwarded everything I needed over to the pair of them, when someone called my name.
‘Georgia?’ I looked up to see Mike, Marie’s boyfriend, grinning down at me.
‘Oh hi! How are you?’ I said, smiling at his paint-splattered overalls. ‘You just finished work?’
‘Yep, nothing gets past you, does it!’ He smiled as Shelley walked over holding two pints of cider. ‘Oh hiya, Shelley, how are you?’
‘Ah, it’s Mike right?’ Shelley asked, carefully placing the pints on the rickety table. Mike nodded. ‘It’s great to see you again; God, the last time was at Georgia’s launch party, wasn’t it?’
‘Time flies hey?’ Mike laughed.
‘You can say that again; so how’s little Cole doing?’
‘Great, thanks. He’s slowly learning the joys of using a potty.’ Mike grimaced and sat down sloshing some of his pint on the floor as we moved our chairs around the table. ‘Anyway, what are you both up to? Georgia, you never come in here!’
‘Well we’re off to India tomorrow so thought we’d get in the mood and have a quick drink,’ Shelley said proudly. I still hadn’t told anyone; it wasn’t like when I jetted off backpacking round Thailand last year. This trip was purely business. Get in, find Nihal, sort out the problem and get out again.
Mike’s eyes widened. ‘Whoa, Marie never told me that. How exciting!’
‘Yeah, it was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing,’ I said, not adding the fact that we’d been pissed on expensive, super-strength rum at the time. ‘Is she about?’ I craned my neck around the empty pub to try and track down my best friend.
‘She’s just dropping Cole at her mum’s; we’re having a night off from scooping up poo and wiping wet patches from the floor, thank God.’ Mike laughed and glanced at his watch. ‘She should be here any sec –’
Right on cue, Marie walked in – her green eyes darted around the gloom of the pub until they found us. ‘Oh my God, Georgia!’ A huge grin broke on her face as she ran over and squeezed me tight. ‘You never come out; what are you doing here? I haven’t heard from you in ages.’
I winced. ‘I’m so sorry I’ve just been …’
‘Busy, yeah, yeah, I know. Well the odd text back would be nice,’ she said before shaking her head. ‘Anyway, how are things?’
‘Marie!’ Shelley’s voice boomed making Marie jump. ‘How you doing, chick?’
Marie almost stumbled back in surprise. ‘Shelley, what are you doing here? I thought you were going round Europe?’
‘Yeah, I was. Managed to Interrail round a few places but then Manchester sort of stole my heart.’
‘Yeah, Manchester and Jimmy,’ I teased.
‘Ben’s best mate? The beefcake?’ Marie asked.
‘Yep, that’s the one.’ I laughed.
‘So what are you up to? Having a girly night in the pub together?’ The question was light enough but I could sense Marie bristling slightly.
