While I Was Shopping: Part 15

“Barbados!” John had said and blew the air out of his cheeks.

Eric giggled at the memory of their faces as he had announced the location of their next writing session, and when they had packed their things and were sitting on the aeroplane, still they hadn’t believed it to be possible.

And now, gazing out of the window onto the beach outside of the villa and smelling the warm sea air as it flowed around the room, he felt refreshed and fighting fit.

It belonged to a friend of his with whom he’d written an American show, and it hadn’t been hard to persuade him that Monty Python wouldn’t trash the joint and would indeed leave it immaculate. And so, off they had all flown, for the next month, to write their scripts and to put together the next Pythonic adventure.

“So what do you think?” he said to the crowd of people behind him as they entered the lounge.

Terry was holding a very happy looking Alison, who in turn was towing Julianne, and Gilliam was holding up his wife Maggie. John looked very English in his shorts and Michael was gazing out of a window in fascination. Eric grinned. He knew Mike loved to travel, and he was sure one day he would make something out of it.

Chelsea, dressed in a light top and skirt, had dropped her bags and had made her way to the patio doors, which she promptly pushed open and stood, the light wind brushing her hair and flapping around her skirt, on the deck.

“This is perfect Eric.” John said and clapped him on the back.

“I don’t know about writing,” Graham said, “but I fancy going for a swim.”

The group agreed to go for a swim, just as soon as the rooms were picked out. There were two couples there, and they automatically got the double bedrooms, and John refused to share a double bed with any of the lads, so in the end the two bunk rooms were shared out between Eric and Mike, and Graham and John, and Chelsea was given the large double bed.

“No chance of pulling on this holiday then,” muttered John as he dragged his belongings into the room, and Graham waved his finger in his face.

“Not a holiday John. This is work.”

Eric scoffed as John scowled at his best friend, and Chelsea leant on his bedpost.

“It’s ok John, just let me know when you’re out on the pull and I’ll swap my bed for yours.”

Graham nodded. “Very diplomatic Chelsea.”

John smiled gently and thanked her.

“Yeah just make sure you change the sheets afterwards John,” Eric said and the whole group grimaced and booed and moaned and he looked up with happy eyes and a smile. “What?!”

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The waves lapped the beach as Chelsea walked along barefoot in the sand, her fingers grasping the leathery rope of her beach bag and her sarong caressing her legs with a gentle warm breeze. She felt so at peace here, it was hard to understand why they would ever want to leave, but leaving was such a long way off yet, they’d only been here one day. She let the warm sand sink between her toes and she closed her eyes for a moment, standing very still on the shoreline as the waves lapped gently around her ankles, the water surprisingly warm even for seven o’clock in the evening.

The sound of the sea seemed to be washing her mind clean and she smiled happily as she spotted a group of her friends trailing towards her in the distance.

“Chelsea…” called John and he threw something that resembled a beach ball in her direction.

Immediately Eric leapt from behind him and careered after it, and soon a fierce but friendly footie match broke out on the beach.

It was clear very quickly who was on which team. Graham and John, Eric and Chelsea stood squarely together, while Mike, Gilliam, Alison and Jonesy sauntered around the makeshift pitch. It was also clear very quickly which team was the football team, and which was the rugby. Terry started rugby tackling John for the ball, and Mike picked it up before throwing it proudly into the goal area that Eric had been defending.

“Oxford One!” pronounced Maggie as she sat with Julianne on the sidelines, and Graham and John began whispering and gesticulating to Chelsea to come over. Eric leant on Chelsea’s beach bag as he waited for his team to begin play again.

“Right Chelsea we want you to pick up the ball and run as fast as you can. We’ll take down the other guys, and they won’t rugby tackle you because you’re a girl.”

Chelsea scoffed but John waved her on, and as soon as Maggie signalled, they kicked off again. Graham passed the ball to John, who then passed it to Chelsea, who then picked it up and ran with all of her might towards Alison, her face a mix of worry and happiness, stood in goal.

She was vaguely aware of Gilliam being pushed to the sand and of Terry flying through the air with Graham tucked under his arm, but John and Mike were nowhere to be seen.

Chelsea was almost there and she felt the adrenaline begin to work it’s magic in her veins. She was about to throw the ball through the goal posts when she felt something smash into the side of her, knocking out the wind and sending the ball skidding from her hands into the sea.

Julianne rushed past her to capture it and produced it proudly to her father as he clambered from the floor.

Chelsea heard a crack and was vaguely aware that two men were lying fully on top of her as she tried to remove sand from her mouth.

“John did you have to be so rough?” breathed a pained voice next to her ear and she turned her head to see Michael’s face inches from hers. He looked down at her and she caught something in his eyes before he quickly looked away and tried to stand up. His body was fully on top of hers and John was on top of him, and every move he made she could feel.

John staggered to his feet and began wiping sand from his shirt. “Sorry Chelsea old fruit.” He said and Michael scowled as he stood up quickly.

“Would you like a hand my dear?” John asked and leant over her.

Before she had a chance to respond Graham was on the scene and was shooing everyone away.

“Graham, what the hell are you doing?” Gilliam asked as he approached.

John nodded wisely. “It is an old tactic of diversion. Any minute now he’ll move speedily towards the ball and then voom! Like a rat out of an aqueduct.”

The group started laughing loudly, but Graham wasn’t impressed. “Actually I’m just making sure Chelsea hasn’t broken anything more than her leg.” He said and looked sarcastically up at John’s worried face.
 
“Broken her leg?” asked Eric has he jogged over to them. He punched John’s arm and John looked at him in shock.

“I’m terribly sorry Chelsea.”

She smiled but quickly grimaced as Graham began prodding and pressing.

“John you’re such a dick sometimes.” Terry said and John scowled.

“It’s not John’s fault.” Alison said protectively. “You were all playing rough like little school boys. If it hadn’t been John it’d have been somebody else.”

Chelsea nodded. “I should’ve known better than to think I could out run you all, even if John is on my team.”

She felt another sharp pain run through her leg as Graham examined her.

“Well it doesn’t seem to be anywhere vitally important.” He said. “It’s your lower leg anyway. I saw it bend as John leapt onto Mike, and Mike leapt onto you. I heard the noise too. Nice healthy crack.”

Chelsea looked painfully bemused.

“We’ll have to get you to hospital though.” He said pointedly. “And seeing as you’re responsible,” he said eyeing both Mike and John, “you can help me take her there.”

John and Mike dutifully picked Chelsea up, and helped her back to the villa and into their hire car, while the others headed inside to make some dinner.

Graham and John disappeared briefly to pick up a few things, namely some food to stow in their pockets while they were waiting for Chelsea to be seen, leaving Chelsea sat inside the car with her leg propped up on Michael’s knees.

A silence had fallen on them and they sat, occasionally glancing at one another and then back out of the window, in relative stillness.

“I’m sorry about your leg.” Michael said eventually.

Chelsea smiled, relieved the pain had numbed for a while. “It’s not your fault. It was an accident. We should know better at our age.”

He smiled the first genuine smile she had seen from him in a while.

“I honestly didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

She patted his hand. “It’s fine. It just means I won’t be able to go swimming…or walking…or sight-seeing…or anything actually…” she said with a smirk and laughed heartily at his aghast face.

“Oh my God I never thought about that.” He said. “I’ve ruined your time away, I’m so, so sorry!”

Chelsea laughed again. “It’s ok Mike, I’m just teasing you.”

He still looked downcast. “I promise I will take you to see the sights. I feel so guilty. I can’t believe this. I will find a way to make it so you can do everything we all do too.” He said and smiled eagerly into her face. “It’ll be a challenge.”

Chelsea smiled and realised she hadn’t taken her hand from his and quickly withdrew it to push her hair from her face.

He glanced at where her hand had been and then looked out of the window.

Silence descended on them again until finally Graham and John reappeared, and, passing back sandwiches and fruit punch, they started off to the hospital.

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Michael pushed back the curtain and stuck his head through, wondering what he’d find there and slightly disturbed that there had been no door to knock on.

Chelsea was lay with her eyes shut on the hospital bed, her chest lifting slightly and then settling again. Her hands were laced together on her stomach and she looked so much at peace Michael had to creep further into the cubicle to make sure she was ok.

She stirred slightly, but didn’t wake, and Michael sat down on the chair next to her, watching her sleep peacefully. He touched her hands gently and smiled as her eyelids fluttered but remained closed. There was so much he hadn’t found out about her, about how she’d lived, about all of the things that had happened to her since he’d last seen her. He wondered about her life the last couple of years, wondered where she’d been and what she’d seen. He knew none of the other guys had seen her, although he suspected Terry had known something of her whereabouts and of her return to London.

She was still beautiful. He knew that for sure. Every time he looked at her sleeping on the bed he wanted to climb on and join her, to hold her in his arms once again and to feel safe lying next to the woman he loved.

He took his hands from the bed slowly and sat back in his chair. “I still love you.” He said softly.

There was a flurry of curtain and suddenly a man fell forward into the cubicle. He was tall, dark haired and had large green eyes that looked up into Michael’s with uncertainty and confusion.

“I’m terribly sorry,” he said with a slight Midlands accent. He cast his eyes around the cubicle and they alighted on Chelsea. He looked towards Michael oddly and then he stood to his full height.

“They called me.” He said strangely and cast another look at Michael. “I’m Ed Garrett.” He said and held out a hand towards Michael.

“Michael Palin,” Michael said uncertainly.

Ed sat down on the chair opposite him and looked Chelsea over.

Michael felt suddenly very protective and instinctively began to get haughty.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but who are you and how do you know Chelsea Marsh?”

Ed cocked his head. “Chelsea Marsh?” he asked and began to laugh gently. “I haven’t heard anyone call her that since before we were married.”

Michael felt himself freeze inwardly and he looked down slowly at the sleeping form before him.

Ed smiled. “Been married now nearly a year and a half.” He followed Michael’s gaze. “She’s beautiful isn’t she?”

Michael looked up. “You’re a very lucky man.” He said and suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

“I wasn’t sure about her coming back to you guys.” Ed said and then smiled respectfully at Michael. “She talks about you lot all the time.”

Michael smiled.

Ed grinned. “I didn’t stand a chance when she said she’d seen Eric again.”

Mike’s ears picked up and he looked at Ed. “Eric?”

“Yeah. She said he’d tracked her down, got her to keep the flat on in London. She was going to sell it until Eric came along, and then when Terry got in on the act they persuaded her to go back.”

Michael nodded and felt anger burn in him again. Surely Alison must have known if Terry had known. Why had no one told him she was back in London? He gazed at the man opposite him and shook his head. Why had no one told him she was married? How could he have not realised?

“She couldn’t resist you guys though,” Ed said pushing back his hair with a hand and touching Chelsea’s with the other. “The way she spoke about you all it was as if you were her only family in the world.” He shook his head in slight confusion then. “I could never understand it when she refused to let me get you to come to the wedding.”

Michael smiled gently. “I think perhaps she wanted a clean break from us.”

Ed looked seriously at the man opposite him. Michael wasn’t ugly. He had dark wavy hair and green eyes. He had dimples and what Ed termed as a cute smile. From the way he was glancing at Chelsea Ed knew that he obviously felt very deeply for Chelsea, but there was nothing suspicious about the way he was acting.

“I don’t think she wanted to leave you forever.” Ed said calmly. “She could never do that. That’s why she insisted on coming here with you all, to work on the next film.” Ed stood up looked down onto his wife. “And I let her out of my sight for ten minutes and you break her legs.”

Mike felt shock flow through him until Ed began to laugh and then suddenly he felt relief, and he saw kindness in the man’s eyes, and began to laugh too.

There was a cough and a sigh and suddenly Chelsea woke up. She looked up at her husband and then over at Michael, and felt tragically torn between whom to greet first. She was saved the bother as Ed planted a kiss firmly on her mouth and smiled at her whilst stroking her hair.

“Hey darling.” He said and Michael felt jealousy bubble through him again.

Chelsea looked over at Michael for a moment before smiling back up at her husband.

“What have you been doing to yourself? I thought you said you’d be ok.”

“I am ok Eddy, I really am. Michael’s taken care of me so far, and all the other guys, well, it was just like old times.

“So what’s this then?” Ed said pointing at her leg, now plastered from her ankle to over her knee. “Is this like old times?”

She grimaced. “It’s nothing Ed, just a bit of fun.” Chelsea looked over at Michael again. “Where are Graham and John?”

Michael shrugged. Graham and John had left a couple of hours before to catch up on some sleep after waiting four hours in casualty and then having to wait another six to reset her leg in an operation and then for plastering. Michael had offered to stay because he felt a duty to, and the other guys hadn’t really had any objections.

“They left ages ago, back to the Villa I think.”

Chelsea nodded and Ed looked down at his wife.

Michael stood up. “I s’pose I’d best be heading back too, now that I know you’re ok and you won’t be…” he cast a glance up at Ed, “alone.”

Chelsea wanted to explain everything to Michael, and she could tell by the way he was moving that he was feeling hurt. She wasn’t surprised. There had never been an appropriate moment to tell him about her marriage, and why she had done it. They never spoke as they used to anymore, and he had barely said more than three words to her the entire time she had been there.

But that didn’t stop the guilty feeling rise within her. She wanted to take him in her arms and kiss his troubles away. She brushed the thoughts away. She owed loyalty to Ed now. Edward Graham Garrett who took her into his life wholeheartedly after watching her dance one night in the theatre. Ed who owned a farm in the Black Country and for their first date took her into a field for a moonlight picnic with champagne, strawberries and a portable record player. Ed who’d proposed to her within a month and who had given her a beautiful engagement ring, a wonderful house and a brilliant life ever since. Ed who had loved her above everything else, even his ancestral home. Ed who had made love to her, and she had loved with a part of herself that was fresh and young.

And yet she felt guilt overcome herself as she lay on the hospital bed and watched Michael leave. Only this guilt wasn’t borne of her betraying her husband, but of betraying Michael by letting him go without his knowing what he had just witnessed in the cubicle.