Look at that!’ Claire exclaimed, hands gripping the steering wheel. ‘Yet another one! Hogging the middle lane for no reason. So selfish! Why do they do that?’
‘Hmm, yes,’ Lorna murmured, gazing out of the passenger window and trying to shut out her sister’s commentary on the uselessness of fellow drivers.
‘They sit there for mile upon mile,’ Claire ranted on, ‘blocking the lane, making everyone late…’
‘Late for what?’ Lorna asked, sensing her very soul beginning to wither.
‘Late for anything,’ Claire spluttered. ‘Who knows? We might be having a medical emergency here. I could be trying to rush you to A&E…’
‘But you’re not, are you?’ Lorna remarked with a smile. ‘We’re going to a park in Yorkshire, to look at some art.’
‘That’s not the point,’ Claire huffed. And off she went again, launching into another diatribe against other motorists who happened to be occupying the same stretch of motorway. Meanwhile, Lorna was aware of a single question ringing shrilly in her mind… ‘What on earth am I doing here?’
Going on holiday was the obvious answer. For better or worse, she had succumbed to Claire’s suggestion to spend 10 days touring Britain’s most celebrated art galleries. Claire was happy to drive, which was handy as Lorna no longer had a car. Her separation from her husband Andrew had been a long time coming. As Andrew had needed their car for his job, Lorna had agreed that he could have it. She had never liked it anyway. It was too fast, too flash – a searing red, polished for hours until it dazzled.
A few months after the break-up, Lorna’s younger sister had badgered her to come on the trip. They were both keen amateur artists. It was the only interest they had in common.
‘I’m not sure I can stand this any more’
Why not? Lorna had decided finally. The library where she had worked had recently cut staff. She was out of work and therefore a free agent.
‘It’ll do both of us good,’ Claire had insisted. ‘You know what Frank’s like – he hates galleries. Keeps checking his watch and asking when we can leave, like a little kid. We can stay at cosy pubs and hotels with roaring fires – nothing too
