Part 18: A spa will do you good…

A spa will do you good

-
​
That evening, Olive invited Bert for dinner, but she was rather silent, which was unusual.
 
“Something wrong?” said Bert, starting on his third pizza. “Been arguing with Penny again?”
 
“No, I’ve avoided her for weeks now.” She took a nibble from her first slice of pizza and dropped it back onto her plate. “I’ve got a stinking headache. Hurry and finish eating, I’m driving north to Harrogate for a spa.”
 
"Yeah, a spa will do you good." Bert gulped beer from a can, burped, and said with a straight face, “When my Grandma died, I took her to one of those spas where the little fish eat your dead skin.”
 
“Why?”
 
“It was cheaper than having her buried or cremated.” He laughed, his body wobbling like a mound of jelly.
 
At nine-thirty, Olive drove away from The Stables, headed south, not north. When she reached the outskirts of Chipwick, she joined a motorway and put her foot down. The mini's little engine screamed, while Olive settled into her chair and concentrated on the traffic.
 
She raced south for twenty-five miles—almost to the town of Epsom. Then, by a busy B road, she swung back to the north, and making a vast circle about the city of London, made toward the town of Bushy. These directions were important to her: Epsom was eighteen miles south of Chipwick; The Stables was eight miles north of Chipwick; and Bushy another ten miles further north.
 
To be continued… 

The real world:
 
Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on bloglovin’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
 
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
-

Image by ijmaki from Pixabay