Mary Marshall was 36 today. She was contentedly single - if someone special
came along, fine; if not, also fine! Children would be nice, but if it didn't
happen, it would not be the end of the world.
She felt her life was a bit mediocre, but so were those of her friends. Married
or single, they went to work, came home, did the usual mundane things, and life
sort of doddled along. She did not feel that she was missing anything, but
sometimes, on birthdays for example, she wondered if perhaps there was
something she should be missing!
She strolled along to Finnegans, the local supermarket, where she was a
checkout girl, still deep in thought. Someone nudged her, and broke her train
of thought. Startled, she turned, to see her friend, June Parry. They usually
met near this particular spot; June also worked at Finnegans.
"Penny for them?" June said.
Mary looked at her friend and smiled, "I was just thinking of something
exciting happening for a change - like winning the lottery, or being swept off
my feet by Mel Gibson."
"Fat chance," muttered June, then laughed.
They walked companionably, and entered the store still giggling at the thought
of Mel Gibson popping up from between the freezers.
"Seriously though," said June, "You should do something out of the ordinary.
How about booking on one of those package tours, those for 35-50, and go abroad
this year? You've only yourself to please!"
Mary stopped in her tracks for a moment, "You, know June, I might just do
that!"
June looked slightly taken aback, she'd never known her friend to do anything
other than take a few days' break in Stratford or York, to wander round the
shops and the Minster, seeking places of historical interest, and taking a look
at the Yorvic Centre.
"Go for it," said June. "It's the beginning of May, you've three months to
organise it and save up. You've always said you'd love to go abroad, you just
might meet a Mel look-alike."
On her way home that evening, Mary picked up some brochures from 'Super Hols'
on the high street.
"Italy," she thought, "I'll go to Italy. I've always fancied the Vatican and
the Trevi fountain."
That night, as the evening cooled down, she lit the fire in her small flat, and
settled down with a cup of tea and her brochures. As she poured over them, she
felt her excitement mounting. The coloured pictures in the brochure brought
Italy alive to her.
A week later, her holiday was booked for the end of July. The travel agent
assured her that they had some nice people booking on the 30-50 packages, with
some exciting trips booked to places of interest.
Over the next few months, Mary saved and shopped for her holiday. Demure
shorts, colourful tops, summer sandals, and a few pretty summer dresses. A bag,
packed with her suntan oils and cream, nestled ready in her suitcase.
Suddenly, it was the week before she was due to go!
She met June that morning and said, "I can't believe it's here, four days, and
I'm off to Sorrento."
"Lucky you," said June, ruefully. "We're going to John's parents in Wales for a
week. After having the drive and patio done this year, we can't afford a proper
holiday. Send us a postcard."
In no time at all, Mary found herself sitting on the plane waiting to takeoff.
The engine roared and taxied along the runway; suddenly, with a jerk, they were
airborne. Looking out of the window at the disappearing airport and the
approaching clouds, Mary's stomach seemed to shift and settle back into its
normal position. She relaxed and settled into her seat.
After a pleasant meal and a couple of drinks, Mary nodded off whilst reading
her magazine.
She awoke to bright sunshine. Looking through the window, she was surprised to
realise she had slept for over an hour. The plane was preparing to land. She
felt the gentle bounce as the plane landed.
She quickly collected her luggage from the carousel and set off to find her
tour guide.
Soon, Mary and the rest of the party were bowling along in the coach, bound for
Fiuggi, the village where their hotel was situated.
About 2 hours later they arrived.
The hotel was a small, family-run place, but no less grand for that. The
building was white and covered in colourful vines. The patio ran right around
the hotel, with many pots brimming with lovely blooms. Comfortable patio
furniture finished the picture postcard effect.
Inside, the floors were marble, with an elegant curved marble staircase.
A small lift carried Mary and her luggage to the second floor, where she found
her charming room. The initial effect was light and airy. Lovely old-fashioned
furniture, white lace bed covers, white latticed blinds, flung open to welcome
the sun and a cooling breeze, had Mary smiling to herself with pleasure. A
small room, equipped with toilet, sink, and shower, completed Mary's temporary
home.
Looking out of the window, the view was breathtaking; below, the patio, the
gardens, massed in colour, and in the distance, mountains wreathed in a hazy
mist.
She quickly unpacked, had a quick shower, to freshen up, and then went to
explore.
The hotel staff greeted her with a friendly "Buon giorno, Signorina," their
white teeth flashing her a smile.
She went out to the patio, where a few of her companions from the coach were
already relaxing with cool drinks. Mary went and bought a glass of wine, and
went to join them.