Page 16 of The Promise of Tomorrow
‘Elena, the frost hasn’t lifted all day!’
She tightened her scarf. ‘I want the rush of winter in my hair.’
‘You do?’ Rory looked puzzled.
She gave him a determined look. Rory put back the roof, released the handbrake and drove onto the main road. Five minutes later, down the broad bypass, despite the rush hour traffic, despite the horns of impatient drivers, the loudest sound was Elena whooping and laughing as her blonde hair rippled in the breeze, more wildly than any whitewater rafting waves.
10
ELENA
Unable to stop smiling, Elena stood, hair windswept, whole body invigorated, outside her parents’ house, an unassuming three-bed semi on a quiet road in Bridgwich, thirty minutes away from her home. Her mum and dad were teachers and had met at university in the eighties. As their names were Don and Melanie; it had been a joke amongst their friends that they were the Mancunian version of Hollywood couple Don Johnson and Melanie Griffith. Elena’s dad had been thrilled, as a huge fan ofMiami Vice, in which Johnson starred. He still dressed the part and opened the door in pleated linen trousers and a navy shirt, loafer-style white slippers with no socks and sporting blow-dried high-lighted hair. The only thing missing was the tan – and the American accent.
‘You look dead freezing, love. Fancy a brew?’ Don opened the door wider and gave Elena a hug. He held out his hand and gave Rory’s a firm shake. ‘Good to meet you, lad. Cool jacket. Reminds me of the one Michael Jackson wore in the “Thriller” video.’
Melanie appeared, wiping her hands on a tea towel. Strangers had often made a point, over the years, of saying howmuch Elena looked like her mother. The same blue eyes with slight shadows underneath, the nose that raised slightly at the tip, the bow-shaped mouth with the fuller top lip. Melanie smoothed down Elena’s hair and gave her a tight side hug. ‘Come on into the warm, both of you. Rory, take off that jacket before my husband asks you to do the moonwalk.’
Don proceeded to attempt that famous dance move, succeeding only in making Elena grab Rory’s arm and lead him swiftly into the kitchen. A cup of tea later, they sat at the table in the cosy dining room, walls filled with photos from family holidays, golf tournaments and Christmases.
‘Are you sure sushi is okay, El?’ asked Melanie. ‘Happy to rustle up some garlic bread or a bowl of the leek soup I made at the weekend, instead.’
‘I can’t make a fuss, not when we’ve got guests.’ Elena reached forward, picked up a salmon sushi roll. Without studying it, she popped the fish straight into her mouth. The unfamiliar texture almost made her gag, until the freshness of cucumber and avocado cleaned her palate, before the crunch of the fried onion on top hit. Three pairs of eyes stared at her.
‘Well I never,’ said Don. ‘You’ll be joining me for a Guinness later, at this rate.’
‘That’s never going to happen,’ she said and picked up a square of spiced tuna, proud of herself, despite needing to chug back half a glass of water when the chilli set her tastebuds on fire. She hardly had room for apple crumble after the moussaka, but helped herself to a large portion as it was her favourite. That’s why her dad had made it. She drank back her coffee and sighed. ‘Delicious. I’m stuffed.’
‘Me too,’ said Rory and patted his stomach. ‘Was that cinnamon in the crumble topping? And I swear I tasted orange juice in the fruit.’
Don almost choked on his coffee. ‘You get my daughter eating sushi, when I’ve tried for years, you wear a jacket more eighties than any of mine, and now you suss out my secret ingredients? What’s more, announce them out loud? You’re one brave man.’
‘He is indeed. A bit of an extreme sports expert,’ said Elena. ‘Tell them about your skydiving, Rory. Also, he’s taking me on a bungee jump this weekend coming.’
‘He is?’ chorused Don and Melanie.
‘I am?’ asked Rory and put down his cup.
‘Well, you did challenge me to do one, in the summer – explained how a mate of yours ran a club at that National Trust park near where you used to live, Knutsford way? He said he could fit you in anytime as you helped him set up the website and market his business.’
‘Yes, I challenged Gary as well and you were even more adamant than him that the answer was no – which was saying something, as Gary declared he’d rather give up chocolate forever.’
Melanie exchanged glances with Don. ‘Sounds exciting, love,’ she said in an unsure tone. ‘Scrambling to duck when someone shouts “fore” is about as risky as our sporting endeavours get.’
Rory was grinning. ‘Okay, Swan! Let’s do this! I’ll ring Tim tomorrow. This is very late notice. It depends on the weather forecast though, and he doesn’t run as many jumps at this time of year. But this is ace!’
‘I’ve checked,’ she said. ‘No fog is forecast, no wind either, nor rain!’
Rory rubbed his hands together. ‘Great! You’ll love it. Honestly.’
Elena beamed.
They got to their feet and Rory turned to one of the walls and studied the photos. ‘That’s an incredible view,’ he said, pointing to a mountain range.
‘Scotland 2008,’ said Don. ‘Best whisky I’ve drunk in my life.’
Rory moved to the next shot of a teen Elena and her mum on a big wheel.
‘The Nottingham Goose Fair,’ said Melanie. ‘We went there every year when El was at school. I never got used to the spinning drum ride but, when she was younger, El loved it. She was always such a sensible child, but the fair brought out an impulsive, adventurous side. She’d insist on going on the Ghost Train several times – until she got a bit older and then preferred just to wander through, eating candyfloss.’
