Summer Holiday. Penny Smith

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СКАЧАТЬ make sure nothing was growing there. Age, her grandmother had once told her, may give you wisdom but it also gives you excess hair and fallen arches. Age is not for wimps. God, it would be so easy to get depressed about everything drooping and growing hair.

      Meanwhile, there was a nose to be attacked. Its pores were the size of bubbles in a yeasty bread mix and needed to be dealt with. That took a few minutes, and while it was relaxing after its pummelling, she peered up her nose. Bodies. So complicated. Hair inside nostrils to sift out particles in the air. Skin, with its pores opening or closing. She imagined her entire body as a vast collection of pulsating sea anemones, expelling and swallowing minute motes.

      She dabbed toner everywhere, then mixed up a face pack with organic powder she had been given as a birthday present. It smelt of damp nappies, but was exceptionally good at calming down punished skin.

      Back on the sofa, under a thick layer of night cream, she flicked through the channels. Telly was so boring on Saturday night. She shifted to Sky and rolled down the things she’d recorded, settling on a drama series about Sherlock Holmes, which had been getting good reviews. The cushions were comfy, the temperature was perfect and Dr Watson had a very good bedside manner. He had barely got his feet under the valance before she was fast asleep. She woke up as the credits were rolling and decanted to bed without cleaning her teeth.

      The next day, Miranda woke up with a spring in her step and took a moment to remember why. Oh, yes. Towpath clearing. She quickly checked the time, having forgotten to set her alarm. It took her a moment to work out that the digital clock actually was showing five thirty-seven a.m. – the earliest she had woken up naturally since she’d last had jetlag.

      She bounced into the bathroom and smiled at herself in the mirror. Natural light made you look so much better. She brushed her teeth with fennel toothpaste – bought because it was the sort of thing Nigel sneered at – then mint, because it felt fresher, and virtually skipped into the shower. ‘Oh, what a beautiful day,’ she trilled, as she shaved her legs.

      She had two pieces of toast and a boiled egg, which she had undercooked so seriously that it looked like a jellyfish in a shell. She squiggled it around with a spoon to make it less offensive, then wolfed it down. She was ravenous so she followed it with a bowl of cereal and leapt into the car.

      She arrived at the towpath with a tub of salad, a vegetable wrap, an apple, a banana, a smoothie and a bag of organic carrots.

      ‘Don’t tell me, you’re more hung-over than a quadruple bypass patient on an operating table,’ Alex commented, as she reeled off the list to him while they waited for the others to arrive.

      ‘Actually, no,’ she said primly. ‘I had an early night after dining on sushi.’

      ‘You were knackered?’ he sympathised.

      ‘Yes, I was.’ She smiled. ‘I know it sounds pathetic, but I really was a bit wiped out. A combination of fresh air and a little exercise.’

      ‘It’s what happens if you’re not used to it.’

      ‘And you?’

      ‘Well, I suppose I’m used to it.’

      ‘I meant what did you get up to last night?’

      He hesitated. ‘I had to have a meeting with my father.’

      ‘Have a meeting with him? You mean you went to see your dad?’

      ‘No. It was a meeting – it’s complicated. But I didn’t get back till … erm, back until late, so I didn’t have a huge amount of sleep.’

      ‘And how was that?’ she asked idly, to keep the conversation going.

      ‘Fine,’ he said. And bent down to do up a shoelace that didn’t need tying. ‘So, no aches and pains, then? No massage required anywhere?’

      ‘You offering?’ she asked, addressing his ear.

      He stood up. ‘I think I possibly am,’ he said, his green eyes alight.

      He’s only saying that because he feels safe, she thought. Because I’m so much older. Because I’m no threat. Treating me like he would his mother. But she couldn’t prevent a tingle of excitement. ‘Shoulders could do with a rub, then, if you really don’t mind.’ She turned to present them.

      His hands were strong and she winced a little as he worked on her.

      ‘Hey, can we all have one of those?’ asked Teresa, emerging from her scruffy Fiat with a cooler bag that contained her lunch.

      Alex merely grinned and carried on massaging Miranda. ‘How’s that?’ he asked.

      ‘Me love you long time, meester,’ she responded, in a higher voice than she’d meant to use, actually feeling rather hot and bothered and trying hard not to be turned on.

      Will’s Land Rover pulled up, drowning Alex’s response, but it appeared to signal the end of his ministrations and they got to work soon after.

      It was a beautiful day and Miranda stood up frequently to stretch and look about her. On the canal, a shimmering drake was bothering a drab duck in an area of dark, still water. She knew she should be appalled by the huge expanse of green duckweed and algae bloom, but it was the most brilliant colour. It made the bank on the other side look positively dull.

      She had stuck her hair into a large clasp at the back of her head, but red-gold curls had escaped and had glued themselves to her face by the time the call for lunch went up. ‘Phew,’ she said, as they walked back to the meeting area. ‘It’s awfully hot and sticky.’

      ‘Maybe you should wash it,’ said Alex, as he went past.

      She snorted.

      ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said apologetically. ‘Something a friend of mine used to say every time I said it was hot and sticky. Reflex action. Really. Sorry.’ He did look a little pink around the ears.

      ‘It’s fine. Honestly. Don’t worry about it. I’ve heard worse. Much worse. And I definitely could do with a freshen-up.’ She grinned. And now she was embarrassed. ‘A freshen-up.’ That was so bloody Surrey.

      It was peculiar how, even at her age, she reverted to being a teenager, given half a chance and a following wind.

      After lunch, they worked with fewer breaks to clear the last stretch of towpath they were dealing with that weekend. Miranda wondered whether she would do the volunteering thing again. It had been a nice idea, but apart from Alex, she didn’t like the others much. They were all a bit holier-than-thou, with bad skin and terrible hair. She smiled at that. Hers had gone mad with the combination of heat and sweat. She took off her glove and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. Her nails were filthy, even though she hadn’t done anything without gloves on. Yuk. That must be from the inside of the gloves. Someone else’s body detritus.

      By five o’clock, it was all done. The team gathered gratefully in the shade of a tree – now shorn of its lower branches – and drank bottles of water. Will thanked them all for their hard work and said that anyone who wanted to see the job through to the end was welcome to come again. Everyone except Miranda intimated that they’d be doing just that.

      She couldn’t decide. On the one hand, it would be a waste of the wicking shirt and the trousers СКАЧАТЬ