Page 15 of Lost Luggage
‘There won’t be any kissing at this event. I’m only going to look for Phoebe.’
‘Why? You might meet a special friend. Someone to spend time with. As my English teacher once said – the world is your toy store.’
11
The letterbox rapped and Flo swept in, school finished, another fresh February afternoon, another date for Dolly. So far she’d dated more than one pop star, an American called Buzz who could moonwalk, and a chap in a top hat who owned a chocolate factory. Practice was supposed to build confidence but it only built walls around Dolly when she thought of flirting. She poured out a glass of juice and carried it through to the conservatory, with a large packet of crisps. Flo sipped the drink.
‘Our deal isn’t fair,’ she announced. ‘It’s Tuesday again, that means Guides. I have to go once a week. You only do these firsts once a month. Dad’s got to drop me off tonight even though he’s zonked out. Two members of staff are off with flu and he’s been on the phone all day trying to find temporary replacements. He’s still ringing. All that means Mum’s got more evening work on than usual but she insists on rushing back from a new job they’ve landed in an out-of-town office block to pick me up afterwards.’ She sighed. ‘Sometimes it sucks that they run a business with late shifts. They can never switch off. I know it means nice holidays, and we love living in Pingate Loop; I try not to be ungrateful but…’
Dolly waved the crisps but Flo shook her head, so Dolly found a pack of cards. Small moments of pleasure, this last year, had been playing Rummy and Go Fish with her young neighbour. After several rounds Flo had cheered up enough for another practice date. She turned their chairs to face each other, declared she needed ten minutes to prepare and asked if she could go into Dolly’s room. Fifteen minutes later, Flo reappeared in a wide-brimmed sunhat and thick duffle coat. She sat down in front of Dolly and held out her hand, Dolly shook it.
‘Good evening. My real name’s Pastuso; not many people know that. May I say how lovely it is to meet you.’
‘Thank you. My real name’s… Dorothy. That’s an unusual outfit.’
Flo took off the hat and lifted a sandwich off her head. Apparently she’d been in the kitchen too. Flo passed half to Dolly. ‘I prefer marmalade but jam will do.’
Dolly stared at the bread then at the hat and coat. ‘May I ask where you were born?’
Flo wiped her mouth. ‘Darkest Peru. But enough about me. Do you like travelling?’
‘I enjoy holidays in the UK – I don’t know much about abroad.’
‘But you like cases, don’t you? We have that in common because I really love my suitcase and you look after lost luggage. I was lost at Paddington station until the Brown family took me in. Perhaps you could care for me too.’ Flo tilted her head. ‘The dark circles under your eyes look lovely; they remind me of my Aunt Lucy, a spectacled bear like me.’
‘That’s quite the most… unusual compliment I’ve ever received,’ said Dolly, wishing Greta could hear. ‘And how is your Aunt Lucy?’
‘She had to go in a care home, that’s why I came to England.’ Flo leaned forwards. ‘I miss her like you must miss your sister. Something else we’ve got in common…’
At six o’clock it was time for her to go home for her tea and get ready for Guides at half-past seven. Dolly had given Pastuso ten out of ten, agreeing with a delighted Flo that he was the best match yet.
‘Are you finding Guides any better, sweetheart?’
‘It’s stupid. Boring. The other girls all know each other.’
‘You think the Bumble Bee patrol is cool. There must be another positive.’
‘Little, microscopic bits, I suppose. We’re talking the size of fairy flies – they’re the smallest insect in the world, about half a millimetre long. They only live for a few days, a very short time, a bit like the good parts of Guides. Like the games where we don’t have to pair up and I don’t have to talk to anyone. We played the hokey-cokey lying on our backs last week.’ Her frown disappeared for a second. ‘It made me laugh. Like when we wrote a story, each of us contributing one word in turn.’ Flo dragged her feet to the front door. She turned when she stepped outside. ‘Can’tyoutake me every week?’
‘Flo. No, sweetheart. Your parents will enjoy doing that.’
‘But I know you won’t embarrass me.’
For a second Dolly felt like she used to when Greta told her she’d cleaned the bathroom so well it sparkled.
‘It’ll do you good. Mum and Dad are always saying it’s sad about Greta but that you need to put your clogs on again, before you pop them.’ She shrugged. ‘I think they mean get out more. I don’t know why they don’t say it to your face. It shows they care, doesn’t it?’
Dolly’s cheeks burned. She supposed it did. But to commit to going to the church hall every Tuesday, to wait with other people, to chat, to make an effort? Knutsmere wasn’t so small that everyone knew each other’s business, but she’d be bound to bump into someone who wanted to know how Dolly wasdoing. Dolly had no answer because, since Greta had died, simplybeinghad been more than enough effort.
‘You’d have something to tell Maurice about when you got home.’
Maurice. Dolly leaving the tank lid off. She’d almost lost him because, over the last year, she’d lost focus of the important things by simplybeing. Dolly needed to sharpen the way she saw life again. Perhaps that meant breaking her safe, solitary routines.
Flo stared. ‘You don’t have to take me, Dolly. Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’ Mark appeared. Flo’s granddad who lived in Spain was on the phone. She gave Dolly a hug and ran off.
‘Thanks for having her around again,’ said Mark, and he yawned. ‘These days she talks about nothing else but your speed-dating. You have our sympathies. It’s certainly got her using her imagination.’
‘It’s been a help, to be honest, and… I’d like to return the favour. Flo asked if I could take her to Guides… I think she’s concerned for you and Kaz, that it’s a lot of rushing around when you both work so hard,’ she added quickly.
