On the Beach
Judy and Shirley parked their car near the International Centre. Traffic had been fine. A bit tricky at the Richmond Hill roundabout but Judy knew a short-cut via old Christchurch Road, thus avoiding the queues. The whole journey had only been five hours – that was nothing in the context of what was to come.
It was going to be a long wait. In the back of the car were duvets and blankets. Other essentials including a torch, a print-out from the Internet that claimed to be a summary of forthcoming east Enders plot. It was important not to miss anything important.
Both Judy and Shirley had mobile phones so their husbands could keep in touch.
‘This is free,’ said Judy, smiling at Shirley as she turned off the engine.
‘A lot of things in life look fine - see them sparkle and shine’ said Shirley looking at the waves, clearly visible from the Centre vantage point. Bournemouth at this time of year is somewhat empty. The golden beaches are now merely windswept. Clifftops are a mixture of sharp grass and abandoned dog turds. Never mind, they’d not be doing much walking – too cold for that. Perhaps a visit to the Square or maybe the Royal Exeter but that’s about all. Richmond Hill, Westover Road and the famous Bournemouth Gardens – OK for tourists, but not for them. They weren’t aimless grockles– they had a mission.
Eight days. Eight days! They’d really know each other by the end of this! That said, they’d be no late night intimacies: ‘On the whole it is the fool who bares his soul’ as Shirley used to say.
What would they do the rest of the time? Cafeteria?
‘You are here so let it rain or let it shine. You are with me all the time’ said Judy aware that sales were limited to one ticket per person. Therefore they had to stick together.
‘I'll survive - I don't know how but I'll try’ smiled Shirley and passed Judy a sandwich. They may as well eat the food they had brought with them – the International Centre was known to charge high prices!
The first hour passed quite easily. They checked the concert dates, times, prices; they also read through many of the leaflets that seemed to decorate most of the foyer. Was there ever a time when something wasn’t being shown in Bournemouth?
By 5pm the Bournemouth Evening echo had been read, cover to cover. 6pm came. Time to ring home. They had arranged to ring home at 6 every day. If nothing else, to keep up with the gossip. For Judy it was more than that. She had only been away for 5 hours and was missing her loved one.
‘Say you love me every waking moment. Turn my head with talk of summertime.
Say you need me with you now and always. Promise me that all you say is true.’ In response to her husband’s opening gambit of ‘I miss you’.
Clearly hubbie had done as commanded. Judy’s face lit up with a smile that said one thing: love.
‘Ahhhhhh’ thought Shirley, but really she was no better. Her family had expressed surprise that she was willing to spend her entire week queuing for Sir Cliff Richard – and that was just for the tickets. ‘I admit I can be someone crazy. Insensitive and reckless, baby.’ Was all she’d reply, except once when, exasperated, she shouted: “Don't ever tell me how to live my life” and that was the end of the matter.
Now on the phone: ‘I take each day as it arrives. But these Miss You Nights are the longest…..’
Only eight days to go