‘I’m really not sure about this,’ I grumbled, sitting in the back of a silver Ford Fiesta.
‘You don’t have to be sure,’ Lydia snapped from the passenger’s seat. ‘You just have to sit there and be patient, doesn’t she, Tracey?’
As I looked at the instructor’s furrowed brow, I felt a pang of sympathy. God knew it couldn’t be easy teaching a seventy-eight-year-old to drive and this Tracey must be wondering what on earth she had taken on. With her big blue eyes, open face and easy smile, Tracey appeared to be the dictionary definition of calm, but I couldn’t help wondering if she would still look that way after an hour with Lydia.
I looked out of the window at the row of houses beyond me and tried to change my attitude. I hadn’t wanted to come on this driving lesson with Lydia, but in the week since Brad and Cara had dropped their bombshell Lydia had insisted I was never left alone for even a minute. If I wasn’t at work she made sure she stayed at home, and when I told her I was going for a walk in the park while she went off to the new book group she had found through Facebook, she rang Rachel to babysit me.
Now, she’d said she wanted me to come with her on her driving lesson, not because she was worried about me, but because she said she would need my help when it came to practising what she was learning. I didn’t have the heart to tell her she would need quite a few more lessons before I’d even consider going out in a car with her that didn’t have the benefit of dual controls.
‘So,’ Tracey said brightly as she finished making her final assessments. ‘I just need to check your eyesight before we get started. Lydia can you read that number plate on the blue car over by the lamppost please?’
I looked over at the resident Mercedes that lived permanently outside our house as Lydia recited the plate perfectly.
‘Wonderful, let’s go for a drive.’ Tracey beamed as Lydia finished reading.
Lydia clapped her hands together in delight. ‘So do I get behind the wheel now?’
Tracey smiled patiently and shook her head. ‘Not yet, I thought I’d drive you to a nice quiet road and then we’ll talk about the car and go through a cockpit drill.’
Disappointment flashed across Lydia’s features. ‘But how can I learn to drive if I don’t drive? And why are we talking about cockpits? It’s not flying lessons I’m after, it’s driving lessons!’
Lydia looked at Tracey as though she had lost her marbles, and I felt a surge of frustration. ‘Lydia, the driver’s area is known as the cockpit and Tracey needs to explain all the controls to you so you know how to operate the car. Did you really think you could just get straight behind the wheel and drive off?’
Lydia flushed with embarrassment. ‘Well, Harry always made it look so easy.’
‘And it can be easy, with practice,’ Tracey said, with a smile.
Over the next twenty minutes or so, as Tracey patiently explained the inner workings of the car, I found myself going over the events of the past few days. There was no way of sugar-coating it. Brad and Cara’s announcement still felt like a sucker punch to the gut, something I had mentioned to Rachel when I saw her earlier in the week.
Naturally she had been furious on my behalf when I told her the latest development, though like Lydia she had also appreciated the witty one-liners I had thankfully been able to pull out of somewhere. Yet it did mean that she and Lily had begun Operation Cheer-Up Erin. So as well as coming round for dinner tonight with Phil, they were insisting on taking me out dancing along with lots and lots of drinks later in the week.
Turning my attention back to Lydia, who was still struggling to understand the difference between the clutch pedal and the brake, I wondered if we ought to bring our night out forwards by a couple of days. Something told me I was going to need booze once this lesson was over, and glancing at Tracey’s pinking cheeks, I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one.’
‘No, Lydia, you press the clutch when you want to change gear,’ Tracey explained for the umpteenth time.
‘So I don’t use it instead of the brake?’ Lydia asked, still clearly confused.
I leaned forwards and slid my head between the two front seats. ‘No, you press the clutch when you want to bring the car to a stop and you press the brake then as well.’
Lydia squinted at me in bemusement. ‘So why can’t I use it instead of the brake?’
‘Because that’s not how the car works,’ I said impatiently.
Tracey turned and shot me a sympathetic smile before turning back to Lydia. ‘Why don’t we move on and we can come back to that later? There’s no hurry and some people take more time to learn things than others.’
‘You’re not kidding,’ I muttered, flinging myself against the backseat.
Ignoring my outburst, Tracey continued to run through the basics of driving with Lydia, who looked more and more confused with every instruction. I hadn’t wanted to say I told you so, and honestly, I was proud of the fact that Lydia wanted to try something new, but really, driving lessons at seventy-eight? I was all for living life to the fullest and age being no barrier, but surely Lydia had to realise that this wasn’t the best idea. Unlike my idea of going to Paris to find Jack.
I thought we could even make a weekend out of it, yet the moment I had suggested it Lydia had looked at me in such horror, I hadn’t pushed it.
Mentally, I resolved to talk to her about it again tonight. Perhaps if there were witnesses around, Lydia might be more amenable. But then again, I didn’t want her to feel ambushed either. I watched her now, finally getting the hang of the difference between the clutch and the brake and wondered if bringing the subject up tonight was a good idea after the pressure of her first driving lesson.
Still, I thought with some surprise, Lydia seemed to be doing quite well as under Tracey’s watchful eye she began to drive the car down the quiet residential street.
‘Oh look, I’m doing it,’ she squealed, joyfully.
Despite my reservations I felt a flash of pride. Lydia’s face was a picture of concentration as she stared out of the windscreen at the road ahead. And although her shoulders were hunched over the wheel, I couldn’t miss the flash of pleasure in her eyes as she realised she was capable of so much more than she had ever been given credit for.
‘You are doing it!’ I called encouragingly. ‘Well done, Lydia.’
‘It’s as I said, Lydia, age isn’t a barrier,’ Tracey said. ‘Now, could you change gear from first to second just as I showed you a minute ago?’
Obediently, Lydia pressed the clutch to the floor and slid the gear stick into second. I had to admit I was impressed as she almost glided down the road.
‘That’s wonderful, Lydia,’ Tracey said, her voice full of praise.
‘I know,’ she said proudly as a car suddenly appeared behind us.
‘Okay, Lydia, don’t worry about the car behind us.’ Tracey said soothingly. ‘Just let them go past us if they want to, you’ve every right to be here.’
‘I know that,’ Lydia said firmly. ‘That pillock will just have to work around me, I’m going nowhere. This is my right of way and that road hog will just have to accept it!’
Meeting Tracey’s gaze in the rear-view mirror, we both quickly looked away, too afraid of roaring with laughter at Lydia’s outburst. Yet as the ‘road hog’ came into view it took all my self-control not to give into the laughter that threatened to erupt like Vesuvius as a mother of three in a very nice people carrier patiently passed us at a top speed of 25 mph.
Once the car had gone, Tracey patiently issued Lydia with another instruction. ‘Now, there’s a crossing coming up and a pedestrian clearly waiting to cross, so I want you to stop gently.’
I looked at Lydia expecting her to follow Tracey’s instruction, but it was as though she wasn’t there.
‘Lydia,’ Tracey said sharply. ‘Can you stop please?’
Suddenly, Lydia came to and appeared to snap out of whatever trance she had been under. Sadly, it wasn’t in time to stop for the crossing as Tracey had requested, which meant the instructor had to bring the car to a stop rather suddenly, jolting us all forwards in our seats.
Watching the bewildered pedestrian cross the road in front of us, I glanced across at Lydia. She had gone from confident to frightened rabbit in seconds. It was so strange – almost as if she hadn’t seen the crossing.
‘Are you all right?’ Tracey asked quietly.
‘Fine,’ Lydia said. ‘I’m so sorry. I think I was concentrating so hard on the car I didn’t register your instruction to stop.’
Tracey smiled sympathetically. ‘I understand that, Lydia, but if I give you an instruction, you must do as I say. Not just for your own safety and the safety of your passengers, but the safety of other road users too. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Lydia smiled. ‘I’m sorry, dear, it won’t happen again.’
Tracey nodded. ‘All right then. Drive off when you’re ready. Clutch to the floor, into first and off you go, just as we practised.’
Seamlessly Lydia carried out Tracey’s instruction and for the rest of the lesson did just as Tracey asked. By the time we arrived back at home, Lydia seemed listless and despondent. I couldn’t understand it. Aside from the blip at the crossing she had done brilliantly. Turning to Tracey, I watched her pull out a notepad and pen, and begin to tick things off.
‘So, Lydia, I think you have the makings of an excellent driver.’
Lydia nodded, her eyes downcast. ‘Thanks.’
‘Would you like to book another lesson?’ Tracey asked gently.
Slowly, Lydia lifted her gaze and shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, Tracey. Thank you but I think my driving experience ends here.’
‘Why?’ I gasped, unable to help myself. ‘You were great. You can’t stop just because you made a mistake, people with years of driving experience make mistakes all the time.’
‘It’s nothing to do with that darling,’ Lydia said quietly. ‘It’s because it wasn’t a case that I didn’t hear Tracey’s instruction or was a million miles away at the pedestrian crossing. The simple truth is I didn’t see the crossing or the pedestrian.’
‘But we’ve all done that,’ I said. ‘I’m not saying it’s ideal but it does happen.’
There was a pause then before Tracey spoke. ‘I don’t think that’s what you meant, is it Lydia?’
‘No,’ Lydia replied, turning to me, her eyes filled with fear. ‘I mean I literally couldn’t see the pedestrian until it was too late.’
I felt a flash of understanding as I took in the enormity of what she was saying. ‘Oh, Lydia, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you say you were having trouble with your eyesight?’
‘Did the optician say it was all right for you to learn how to drive?’ Tracey asked gently.
‘He didn’t say not to.’ Lydia sighed. ‘He warned me my eyesight was deteriorating though.’
‘I thought so,’ Tracey said. ‘And that number plate I asked you to read earlier, you could only do it because it was from memory, wasn’t it?’ Tracey gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. ‘I’m so sorry, Lydia.’
‘Don’t be.’ Lydia shrugged. ‘I was stupid, I thought it didn’t matter, that it would be all right. Obviously it wasn’t and I feel terrible. I have been so foolish.’
‘Lydia,’ I began, only for her to put a hand up to silence me.
‘No, Erin, I let my heart rule my head. I didn’t want it to be too late for me. I’ve already missed out on so much because of Harry’s lies. I didn’t want to let something as stupid as eyesight ruin this chance for me as well.’
My heart went out to her – when you were presented with the crushing truth there was nothing you could do but suck it up and face it. I had learned that the hard way and now it looked as though Lydia was about to have to face up to some pretty brutal truths as well.