It was two months since we’d started going out together everything was still cool. Tim had finished with college and was more available so we saw each other every night, sometimes staying at his place and sometimes staying at mine.
Tim seemed a bit lost after his exams and I was worried that he might go back to Wales permanently. He said there was no way he could live with his parents again but I wasn’t sure he’d want to stay in Crewe. I suggested that we could go on holiday together imagining the sort of holiday I used to go on with Rob – a luxury hotel in a nice resort where we could sunbathe, swim, wander round the shops, eat at posh restaurants – that sort of thing. That was the kind of holiday I used to go on with Mum and Dad as well. I enjoyed those times, lazing around, being pampered, reading. Sometimes I’d get a bit bored or fed up but that was usually because of the company.
Tim said there was no way he could afford that kind of holiday and anyway it wasn’t his kind of thing – although how he knew that since he’d never been on one. He wanted to go camping but I said that was definitely a no no. We both got a bit heated and I wondered then what our future would be if we couldn’t even decide on a holiday together. Tim said he wanted to take me out of my comfort zone and eventually we agreed to go cycle touring in Devon staying in bed and breakfast places. Tim got this map from his Dad, John, with cycle routes on it. Apparently there’s a National Cycle Network run by a charity called Sustrans, which John is a member of. There’s a popular route running from Plymouth to Ilfacombe which Tim chose for us to do. I insisted on booking the stopovers after Tim had let me know where we would be stopping each night.
I’d forgotten I even had a bike. I must’ve been given one one Christmas or birthday when I was a teenager. Anyway there it was tucked away in one of the garages and Fred, the chauffeur/handyman, got it out, polished and serviced it for me. I tried it out up and down our drive and it was quite fun, although my bum was sore. Tim said I needed to buy a set of bags, panniers I think they’re called, to carry my clothes in and he came with me to the cycle shop to make sure I bought the right ones. We also bought some rather dishy cycle clothes so I’d look the part and the shorts had padded bottoms in to try to minimise the sore bum. Apparently Tim already had all the gear as he’d done this already with his parents when he was younger.
It all seemed very exciting but I couldn’t believe I was going to have to squeeze all my holiday clothes into such small bags. We booked train tickets, down to Plymouth and back from Barnstaple. I didn’t even dare suggest we went first class. I would have willingly paid the difference but I knew Tim would never accept that so second class it was. Apparently you have to book your bikes on at the same time as trains only have space for a few but it doesn’t cost anything. Tim put an App on my iPhone – he can’t afford one – which has satnav on the cycle routes so we shouldn’t get lost.
We met at Crewe station. Tim cycled there and I was taken in one of the work’s van by Fred. Tim had given instructions of what to pack and I’d followed them to the letter, just squeezing one or two luxury items in. I’d clean knickers for every day, one change of cycle top – apparently you can rinse them out and dry them in the shower overnight – waterproofs, two sets of evening clothes, including shoes and a sponge bag. Tim had practical things, like a puncture repair kit, spare inner tubes, cycle lock and tools. His cycle clothes weren’t like mine. He’d said he couldn’t afford to buy any. He had the padded shorts but everything else looked like his normal clothes. He still looked lovely though but I wished he’d taken up my offer of buying him some stuff. It’ll have to wait until his birthday now.
We had to use the lift to get down to the platform and then we had to look out for bicycle signs on the carriage doors as there was only one place on the train where we could store the bikes. We had to get off at Birmingham, take our bikes up in the lift and down onto another platform to catch the Plymouth train. This was quite challenging and I was already beginning to have doubts about the whole enterprise. Tim’s parents had some friends in Plymouth and when we arrived we put their postcode into my phone to get directions to their place. Cycling there was awful, lots of traffic noise, cars going very close and very steep hills. I had to get off and push a couple of times. Tim was very good. He kept behind me and when I got off to push so did he but it was very challenging for my first ride off the drive as an adult.
The friends were about the same age as Wendy and John and made us welcome. The house was huge, an Edwardian semi they said, and decorated beautifully, in a tasteful way. David was a retired doctor and his wife Carol a retired nurse. After showing us to our room, and I was pleased we were sharing and it was a double bed, we were given tea in the sitting room. David was interested in the route Tim had planed for us and offered to take us to the start of the cycle trail. Apparently one of their sons and partner were cyclists so he had a cycle rack that fitted to the back of his car. I was thrilled as I really didn’t want to experience Plymouth traffic again the next day. The men went out to attach the rack whilst I helped Carol prepare our dinner. That’s not strictly true. I watched Carol working whilst we chatted.
When the men came in we sat in the study and were given gin and tonics with cashew nuts and crisps. There was talk of experiences the three of them had shared, talk of Tim’s parents, John and Wendy, and I just sat and listened. The more I learnt of Tim and his family the nicer they all seemed. After a lovely dinner we chatted for a bit then watched the news and went to bed. Tim wanted to make love but I had the usual reservations that came over me whenever I was in a strange place. I didn’t want Carol to have to deal with stained sheets and anyway I thought the bed might creak. So we just kissed and cuddled.
Next morning after a full English cooked breakfast we packed everything back into our panniers. It was raining and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to make a fuss in front of David and Carol but I didn’t want to get wet either. The men put the bikes on the back of the car while I helped Carol stack the dishwasher. Not that I was much use as I didn’t normally do domestics. Fortunately the rain eased off as we drove to the start of the cycle route and I was pleased I hadn’t said anything.
The bikes were unloaded off the rack and the panniers taken out of the boot and then David drove off and we were on our own. Tim busied himself putting the panniers on his bike. I felt strange, sort of alone and a little lost.
“I’ll show you how to do this this time,” said Tim, I thought a little impatiently, like he didn’t understand how odd I felt. “Next time you can do it for yourself or we’ll take twice as long to get ready as we should.”
I did watch but I didn’t think I’d ever get the idea. I’ve never had to do menial tasks and I’m not sure I want to learn how to. I suppose Tim won’t understand so I’ll have to make the effort.
“Yes, fine. I’m just a little apprehensive, that’s all.”
“Well we’re ready now so put your helmet on and lets go.”
The route was lovely, by a river, through woods and no cars. Apparently it was an old railway line. It was hard work and my bum was sore even with my padded shorts but I didn’t want to moan so I said how much I was enjoying it even though I could only think of my last holiday with Rob, lying by the pool sunning myself with a cold drink just to hand.
“I’m hungry and we don’t have any food with us.”
“Not far to Yelverton. We can have lunch there.”
When we did get there I wanted to go to the pub but Tim said it would be too expensive so we bought some sandwiches and a can and found somewhere to sit. It started to drizzle again so I insisted we have a coffee in the pub even though I could tell Tim didn’t want to. I made sure I paid for it. The shower passed and we set off again. Tim was his usual attentive self and kept asking if I was OK. I just smiled my wan smile and said I was fine. I think he could sense it wasn’t working for me.
We got to Tavistock about 5 o’clock. I was utterly exhausted. I think Tim knew I wasn’t happy and I had no trouble persuading him to stay in the Tavistock House Hotel instead of the dull-looking b & b we were booked in. We had a lovely room and after a soak in the bath I felt like a new woman. I drank rather a lot before and during dinner but I wanted to make sure I enjoyed this bit if I had to suffer the other part.
The rest of the holiday was similar. Tim and I had a couple of rows because I always wanted to do what I was used to, stay in the best places and eat in the up-market restaurants and he didn’t and couldn’t afford to.
“We could have gone on an all inclusive package holiday to Mallorca for less than what this is costing,” I said, “and it would have been enjoyable.”
“It’s only expensive because you insist on the priciest option all the time,” he countered. “I don’t know how I’m going to be able to pay off my credit card.”
“You don’t have to,” I replied, “I’ll transfer enough to cover it into your account.”
“You certainly won’t. I’m not going to be a kept man. You can’t buy me you know.”
“I’m not trying to buy you. I’m pleased you aren’t after my money. You have to realise though that I’m used to luxury and I don’t like slumming it and if that means it’s costing you I want to pay you back. That’s not buying you. It just means we can be together, do things together that we both enjoy.”
“OK then, I want £1,000 into my bank by this time tomorrow,” he joked. “Come here and lets have a cuddle.”
We did stay in a b & b one night and it wasn’t too bad. In fact it was the best breakfast of the holiday. And he did accept £250 towards his credit card and conveniently forgot that I’d paid up front for most of the overnight stops. The cycling part got better and I have to confess I loved shooting down hills at speed. I was far less cautious than Tim who always was miles behind me on the downhill sections. We made Ilfracombe on the north coast of Devon which means we did the Devon Coast to Coast.
After spending the night in a run down hotel there we had to retrace our steps back to Barnstaple as there are no trains from Ilfracombe. The train journey back was over 5 hours and involved two changes but faithful Fred was there to meet me and even offered to drop Tim back at his house. He refused.
So. It did become apparent on this holiday that we are very different. I think I’m going to have to do some adjusting if we’re going to make it as a couple. I’ve always wanted to be ordinary, always rejected the way of life my dad has brought me up into. And I do fancy Tim something rotten. But it’s not going to be as easy as I thought. I’m used to my kind of life now and I’m not sure I can or want to change.