Eunice was finally permitting herself to adopt a dog. She had always intended to do this after Bomber died, but then, when she had lost his ashes, she somehow felt she didn’t deserve one. She had to honor her obligations to old friends before she could allow herself a new one. The black-and-white collie with a white blaze and black spots had been kept on the end of a chain outside a shed for most of his miserable life, and the staff at Battersea had not been optimistic about his chances of rehabilitation. But the little dog had a big, brave heart and was willing to give the world another chance. The staff named him Bill Bailey after the song, for luck, in the hope that he would find the perfect person to come home to. And he had. Eunice. As soon as she saw him, she fell for his pointy ears and his big, dark eyes. He was wary at first, but after a couple of visits he had decided that Eunice was the one for him and deigned to lick her hand. Next week, he would be hers for good.
Eunice and Gavin took it in turns to carry the shopping bag. To start with, Eunice had been reluctant to part with it, but the combined remains of her three friends were surprisingly heavy and she was glad for Gavin to take a turn.
“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed. “We should have put them in one of those tartan shopping trolley affairs that old ladies push instead of a bag.”
Eunice shook her head emphatically.
“You must be joking! And make me look like an old lady?” she retorted.
Gavin winked at her. “Don’t worry. You don’t look a day over forty, old girl.”
Inside the amusement arcade, it was hot and noisy and the air was thick with the smell of hot dogs, donuts, and popcorn. By the expression on Gavin’s face, he thought Eunice had lured him into Babylon. The colored lights spun and flashed in frantic synchronicity with the buzzers and bells. The money clinked into the machines and clattered out; although the former much more frequently than the latter. As one of Gavin’s best brogues slipped on a squashed chip he looked ready to flee, but Eunice filled his hand with coins and nodded toward Bomber’s favorite machine.
“Come on, you, get stuck in! Bomber loved this one.”
As Eunice posted a coin into the slot, she remembered the confusion on Bomber’s face the last time they were there; but then how quickly it had been replaced with a smile when she had come to his rescue. Today was for happy memories, not sad ones. Eunice made Gavin stick it out for almost half an hour, by the end of which he was almost enjoying himself. Against all the (most likely fixed) odds, he won a small and very ugly teddy bear on a claw game machine which he proudly presented to Eunice as a gift. As she inspected the lopsided bear’s comical face, she had an idea.
“We should buy a souvenir for each of them,” she said, holding up the striped bag.
In one of the kiosks on the pier, they found a key ring in the shape of a donut for Douglas. In a shop in the Lanes, Gavin spotted an antique Staffordshire china pug.
“He looks like a boy dog to me,” said Gavin, “but perhaps Baby Jane would prefer that.”
They had fish and chips for lunch and Gavin ordered a bottle of champagne for them to toast the contents of the striped bag, which had its own chair. Eunice was determined not to let it out of her sight for a single moment. The champagne gave her the courage to face what she had to do next. She had to let them go. The Pavilion sparkled white in the sunlight and its domes and spires billowed and pricked the sky.
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree . . .
It always put Eunice in mind of Coleridge’s opium-inspired verse. They went inside first. It was to be Bomber’s last tour and Douglas and Baby Jane’s first. Eunice carefully bypassed the kitchen where the dog-powered spit roast was exhibited. In the gift shop she bought a snow dome containing a model of the Pavilion for Bomber’s souvenir. Just as she was about to pay, something else caught her eye.
“I’ll take a tin of those biscuits too, please,” she told the woman behind the counter.
“Feeling peckish already?” asked Gavin as he offered to carry them for her.
Eunice smiled.
“I owe a lady called Pauline a tin of biscuits.”
Outside in the grounds, by the pond, they found a bench and sat. The Pavilion hung upside down in the water’s reflection like a collection of Christmas-tree baubles. Eunice took a pair of scissors from her pocket and cut a hole in one of the bottom corners of the striped bag. She had thought long and hard about how she could carry out Bomber’s final wishes. Once she had decided on the “where,” she had to work out the “how.” She didn’t even know if it was allowed, but she hadn’t asked, in case the answer was no, so stealth was essential. Eventually, inspiration came, as ever, from one of their favorite films: The Great Escape. If a dozen or so men could scatter the dirt excavated from three tunnels via their trouser legs in full view of armed guards, then surely Eunice would be able to scatter the ashes of three dear friends through the hole in the bottom of a shopping bag without drawing unwelcome attention. She was about to find out.
“Would you like me to come with you and keep a lookout? I could whistle the theme music if that would help.”
Eunice smiled. This part she really was going to do alone. Gavin watched as the small figure walked determinedly across the grass, back straight and head held high. At first, he took her path to be random, but it soon became apparent that it was anything but. When she rejoined him at the bench, the striped bag was empty.
“Bomber was right about this place,” he said, staring at the reflection in the pond. “It is utterly fabulous. By the way,” he added, “what did you write?”
“Chocks away!” she replied.
CHAPTER 51