THE QUEUE TO DRIVE onto the ferry had seemed endless. But eventually the little Citroën had been directed into a stream of traffic that led directly into the bowels of the ship on the starboard side where a uniformed employee had beckoned and waved it into position. They had emerged stiff and achy from the car and had taken the open door on the same side to the upper decks where they made straight for the bar.
The ferry was packed. Excited children were everywhere, screaming and running about in an uncontrolled way, bawling at things they saw on display and couldn't have, siblings breaking into fights, manically playing computer games, seemingly thousands of them, giving out loud, insistent, discordant electronic noises. The parents looked fagged out. Some of them had probably just driven hundreds of miles to get there. Luke took Emma’s hand and guided her through the frenzy, at some point losing his mate Ant and Ant’s girlfriend Natasha. Luke made for the upper decks and the quieter bars, hoping that Ant and Natasha would find the same bar by some route or other or else he’d have to text Ant.
There were kids running around up here too but not so many and not quite so hyper. You had to wonder why, during a heatwave in England, so many people were making for the Continent. Luke and Emma had a good reason to be putting distance between themselves and the green green grass of home. Or so Luke thought. Why most of the rest of them would bother to leave Blighty he couldn't imagine especially with the hassle of bringing screaming kids with them. No doubt though, like Ant, they had booked up months ago thinking that summer in England would be a washout as it normally was. Of course, it would be even hotter by the time they got down to Bordeaux which was the ultimate destination they hoped to reach the following day.
It was still early evening and they were spending the night at a campsite just south of Calais which Ant had booked. If they weren’t allowed to put the two tents on the same pitch, they’d all have to squeeze into the same tent.
Luke sat observing Emma sipping her ginger beer and peering around her. She still looked bemused by the turn of events. Incredibly she’d only been abroad once in her life so far which, she had told him, was in Year 10 at senior school being a long weekend to Holland with the school. Therefore at least she had a passport. Her parents had never taken her abroad. It was starting to sink in for Luke how restrictive it would have been to have a chronically ill grossly disabled parent and not much money. Little chinks were opening up in his mind about Don’s attitude to his daughter. He began to appreciate why Don might be protective.
As soon as Don had left Luke yesterday after taking him to task about Emma, Luke had texted and emailed all of his friends. He knew some of them would be going camping in France. Someone always did. It was just a case of whether any would be going in the next few days. He scored a direct hit with Ant who was leaving the following day and was happy to have two others along to share the cost and help with the driving. Luke had no money of course but he’d had a few paintings on the wall of a local restaurant for months. The price tags were high but no more than he thought the paintings were actually worth given the effort and degree of expertise that had gone into them. Not to mention the materials and the cost of mounting and the fact that artists actually had to live and buy food etc.
One of his paintings had attracted a lot of attention and offers but none of them anywhere near the two thousand pounds price tag he’d put on it. The highest offer was five hundred pounds and after his confrontation with Don, Luke had contacted the prospective purchaser and had said he would take eight hundred pounds for the work if the money could be paid that day. The collector had agreed and paid the money into Luke’s account later. It was too late to order any euros and anyway he had no way of getting to a bank. He decided to use an ATM on the ferry and in France to draw cash out.
Emma had been surprised to receive a call from Luke while she was at work. Actually it was a missed call. He had always previously texted her. When she called him back during her afternoon break, he had been brief. After finding out that her father hadn't talked to her yet, he’d explained what had happened and said he thought it would be a good idea if they got way for a week or two. He asked her if she could get the time off from the restaurant for a camping trip to France with another couple. Emma was nervous about that. If she lost her place as a waitress or kitchen worker, she might never get it back. She really needed the cash for the next year. Luke urged her to at least try. He thought apparently that the atmosphere in the house would be frosty and hostile at least from her father. And, he said, she deserved a holiday. He would pay for everything.
Emma spent the rest of the afternoon worrying. So her father knew which wasn't great. But further, she was very tired and the thought of a holiday was so tantalising. Lazing on a beach somewhere for several days to wind down having to do no more than stagger in the evening to an old beamed restaurant dripping with character and study a menu replete with local cuisine; supping far too much of the regional wine; falling into the festival tent Luke had previously referred to as being under-utilised and spending the nights cuddling together; sleeping in in the morning; in due course exploring local tourist attractions and sights. It was such an attractive prospect. Like a dream really. An impossible dream.
With almost no hope whatsoever, she had asked Ginger when she came on at six if it might be possible to have ten to fourteen days off from tomorrow to go away on holiday without losing her job. She’d been amazed to be told that it was no problem at all, that most of the summer help had some time off. Usually it was at the beginning or end of the season so now in the middle was actually a good time for the restaurant. Ginger assured her she wouldn't lose her job. No way and she’d put it in writing. Emma had pinched herself and texted Luke back that yes she’d be able to go with him.
EMMA WASN’T TROUBLED by her father’s attitude after due consideration. Her father was obviously sulking when she got home and the following morning as he seemed to be positively avoiding her but if he couldn't hack it, well that was too bad for him. He hadn't exactly been understanding when she had come upon him and Grace in the kitchen and she hadn't immediately reacted favourably.
She hadn't liked the secrecy, but if there was now no secrecy, then largely problem solved. If her dad for some reason couldn't cope with her having a boyfriend, that was his problem. Whatever he might have heard through her bedroom door, it couldn't be even half as bad as unexpectedly coming across an elderly couple practically at it in a kitchen. She would continue to sleep with Luke when she wanted to and that was that.
So far as she was concerned, after the holiday she would only be there at home for a few more weeks and then back to Northampton with her accumulated earnings and her usual grant and loan and bursary. Her father hadn't yet mentioned to her that Grace living with him would have an effect on her eligibility for student finance. Luke had told her that the change of circumstances would affect his ability to obtain student finance but she knew his father had been obstructive and didn't relate any of that to her own situation.
Accordingly, that night when she got home, knowing that she could go on this holiday, she hurriedly sorted through her clothes and possessions and dug out her battered holdall, packing it with anything suitable. As a precaution she hid the packed bag in her wardrobe in case her father came in before she left and saw it and confiscated it for whatever reason, preventing her from going on her deserved break. And she now wanted to go very much regardless of the loss of income.
Luke had been up to the house earlier that evening when his mother was there to have his usual shower and to do a massive wash of all his clothes. Don was about and Luke would have been prepared to be friendly towards him but Don ignored Luke and went off to his study. Grace had chattered on cheerfully apparently not noticing. Perhaps she just automatically expected Don to be prickly towards Luke. He had no idea whether Don had said anything to his mother about him and Emma. Grace made Luke a large snack and said that he could leave all his clothes for her to get washed and dried. He tried not to make a point of it but said he hoped they could all be done that evening.
The plan was that they would leave the following lunchtime. Luke was to creep to the house in the early hours, collect Emma’s bag and keep it in the summerhouse. Emma would leave the house at the usual time as though going to work. Ant was to come and collect her at the gate which wouldn't be especially noticeable since she got lifts from different people. Luke would heave his rucksack and Emma’s bag over the hedge at the end of the garden. Ant apparently was highly entertained at the covert nature of their departure. They would both leave notes for their respective parents and text them a bit later in case the notes weren't discovered soon enough and panic ensued.
Emma sat in her room composing hers on the morning of the leaving with mixed feelings of guilt and excitement. She decided to address it to Grace as well as her father. She hoped that that would appease her father a little. He had after all said that he wanted them to be a family!
She wrote the following, popped it in an envelope addressed to her father and Grace and left it on her bed:
Dear Dad and Grace,
Don’t worry, we haven't eloped! Luke and I are going on a camping holiday to France with some friends of Luke’s. We thought it would be a good idea to get away for a couple of weeks. I’ve got the time off work. I’ll try and email you an itinerary in a day or two so you know roughly where we’ll be. Sorry I didn't say anything before but we only decided to go yesterday so I’ve hardly had a chance to get used to the idea myself. I’m so looking forward to it.
Lots of love,
Emma
DON ARRIVED HOME from visiting clients just as Grace herself got home from work. He greeted her delightedly and kissed her before they went to the back door and let themselves in.
A minute later from his study where he was firing up his PC so that he could make notes, he heard Grace call to him from the kitchen. She had probably poured out a glass of wine for them both. That was sometimes the routine. He stopped smiling however when he saw her worried expression.
He noticed for the first time that there was an envelope on the table and a key. His first thought was that Luke had left and gone to live elsewhere and that Grace would probably blame him when she found out about his talk with Luke, as he would of course have to tell her now.
“Don did you know anything about this? Look!” She handed him a folded piece of paper. He opened and read the short letter to his mother in Luke’s flowing artistic hand. The note just gave some very basic details about a forthcoming camping trip to France with Emma and some friends. It said that he had locked the summerhouse and had left the key with the note. It gave his expected date of return and ended ‘I love you, Luke’.
“Emma?” said Don. “Emma’s gone too?”
“That’s what he says.”
“She didn't tell me. No I didn't know.” Don was aghast.
“Why would they suddenly go without telling us?” Grace asked.
Don swallowed and looked out of the window.
“Don?”
He sighed. “They’ve been sleeping together. I found out yesterday and spoke to Luke about it. Basically I didn't think they should be. Not at Emma’s age.”
“Emma’s age! She’s eighteen!”
“Yes and I think it’s too young and that she isn't ready for that sort of relationship.”
Grace frowned. “How did you find out?”
Don sighed again and looked up at the ceiling. “I heard them early in the morning yesterday. In her room. I went to the summerhouse and waited for Luke to go back there and I spoke to him.”
“Why didn't you tell me this before?”
“I couldn't see any point. You implied that you wouldn't mind if they were sleeping together. I do mind and I just thought there wasn't any point our having to have an open difference of opinion about it.”
Grace looked angry. He’d never seen her look angry before and it upset him. He was immediately contrite and walked towards her, taking her hands in his. “Darling Grace I’m most terribly sorry. Please forgive me. Please please. I didn't think it would drive them away.”
“Well it has hasn’t it! Did you speak to Emma as well?”
Don bowed his head. “No. Just Luke.”
“Why not Emma? If you think eighteen’s too young, then Luke’s only twenty himself. You can't paint him in the role of the wrong-doer and your daughter as an innocent victim. It sounds as though you almost think he forced her against her will or coerced her or something!”
“No, no. I didn't think that. Well not really. Just that she’s too young and inexperienced to make up her mind properly.”
“And Luke isn't?”
“Well, he’s….he’s….”
“He’s what? Don you’ve seen what Luke’s like. He’s adorable and very, very loving. It’s very unlikely to be one-sided. She’ll be just as enthusiastic as he is. If I do say so myself, he’s charming and attractive. It’s little wonder she’d want to be involved with him.”
“That’s rather my point.”
“Sorry I still don't get this. Because he’s physically attractive and innately well-mannered and good-natured - though heaven knows he’s had no help in that direction from his father - you think that means that he should stay away from girls in case they’re helplessly ensnared?”
“Well, I….I….”
“What about Emma then? She’s a pretty girl. Maybe Luke’s bowled over by her. Maybe she’s a bit of a siren.”
“I sincerely doubt it.”
“I sincerely doubt if you’ve got any idea and any way of knowing what she’s like with young men, Luke or anyone else.”
“But you saw what she was like when she found us together in the kitchen to begin with. She was horrified.”
“Don, forgive me, but people of Emma’s and Luke’s generation would necessarily be horrified and worse to think of people of our age having any sex life at all. That’s just how it is. And at that time, you said to me that she should grow up. Actually I thought that was a bit harsh. But now you’ve gone far too far the other way. Your daughter’s entitled to have fun Don.”
Several sentences ago, she had pulled her hands away from his. Now she turned her back on him and started to ferret around in the fridge to make a start on their dinner.
Don looked bleak. He felt bleak. “I suppose I’d better go and see if Emma’s left a note for me too.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” said Grace.
He came back very soon with Emma’s letter. “Do you want to read it?” he said.
Grace scanned the few lines quickly. “Well she’s obviously been dragged kicking and screaming out of the country! She’ll be lucky if he doesn't sell her to the white slave trade at the end of the holiday having got full use out of her himself!”
“Grace!”
Grace shook her head and carried on with the meal. Don escaped to his study but he couldn't do any work. He just sat there cupping his chin in his hands. How could he have made such a hash of things and have got it all so wrong? It must be the man thing. Luke being another male and he automatically doubting him. And he still most of the time pictured Emma as a little girl. A little baby girl being bottle fed and looking up at him with trusting blue eyes, little legs kicking occasionally; Emma sitting on her potty while they sang nursery rhymes and did simple jigsaws together; little Emma’s first school uniform, her first and subsequent party dresses, her excellent school results; helping her with her homework; walking with her to the bus stop and waiting there for the school bus to arrive to take her to secondary school and collecting her later; her wonderful GCSE results and later A’ level results.
Him and Emma. He should of course be pleased that she was having fun. He was pleased at some level. And with someone as nice as Luke who signed a letter to his mother ‘I love you’. It was just that she was his little Emma and he didn't want anything horrible to ever happen to her and now, because of him, she’d gone off to France when she could be here safe at home.
He was still sitting there with his head in his hands twenty minutes later when Grace came in to tell him dinner was ready. She put her arms around him and he turned and buried his face in her soft warm bosom and clutched her to him.
“She’ll be all right Don,” said Grace softly. “She’ll be having a wonderful time. And Luke’ll look after her.” Don nodded and got up and they went to have their dinner together. At least she wasn't angry with him any more.
MEANWHILE, OVER IN Nord-Pas-de-Calais, Luke was quickly and expertly erecting his tent while Emma inflated their mattresses using the footpump and got out the sleeping bags. Ant and Natasha wanted to go to the campsite bar and soon disappeared, but as Luke was starting off the driving early the following day and it was going to be a long journey, Luke and Emma decided to turn in. Taking advantage of the fact that the tent next to theirs was empty, and that they had no time restriction, no heavy parent who might turn up and disrupt things, they made love over and over again. Luke wondered if in fact he actually was in love with Emma and was on the verge of telling her he loved her several times. But he stopped himself from actually saying it and after a time they fell asleep, curled up blissfully together in the hot little tent.