A Fortuitous Adventure: 1

Printer-friendly version

Emily

A farewell to mum for the summer
and a meeting with my cousins

A Fortuitous Adventure:
or, how I got my first job


by Louise Anne Smithson


Chapter 1

My arrival at Shrewsbury

‘Isn’t it rather hot today for you to be wearing even a lightweight jacket Chris?’ asked my mother as we waited on the forecourt of Euston Station for our train to be announced.

She was right. It was approaching noon and the weather was exceptionally hot, even for July, and I was beginning to sweat profusely.

‘I put it on this morning as I needed some more pockets to hold my ticket and wallet. These jeans are a bit too tight,’ I explained.

‘Your shirt has a deep pocket, you could put your ticket and some money for the journey there, then pack your jacket in your suitcase, it would be more comfortable for you that way,’ she suggested.

I sighed, but followed her advice and extracted my rail ticket, bank card, and twenty pounds from my wallet, then carefully folded my coat and placed it in my suitcase. At the same time I took out a computer magazine that I'd bought to read on the next leg of the journey.

‘You seem to have brought quite a case load of clothes with you this time,’ she commented.

‘I'll be staying in Shrewsbury for the whole of the summer holiday and I don’t want to be doing laundry more than once a week,’ I answered.

I suppose I had bought myself rather a large case but it had been on special offer in the shop, and had the attraction of having four wheels for me to pull it along. My mother couldn't really complain though, since her own case was nearly as large as mine and she also had a cabin bag for her plane journey.


About ten minutes later our departure was announced and we were allowed to join the train. I loaded my suitcase on to the luggage rack at the end of the carriage and helped Mum to do the same with her own. Her cabin bag would fit on the rack over the seats. We found a couple of seats next to one another half way down the carriage and so it was possible for us to continue our conversation. Over the next few minutes the carriage proceeded to fill with other travellers and the racks at the end of the carriage and spaces between some of the seats quickly became overflowing with luggage. It looked as if half of the passengers were either going away or else returning from a holiday.

‘Are you sure you're going to be alright Chris — six weeks is a long time for me to be overseas?’ said Mum.

‘Of course I’m going to be fine, I'll be sixteen in a couple of weeks and that is old enough to leave school. In any event, I'll be staying with Aunt Carol and her daughters,’ I answered. ‘You can always telephone or email me to make sure that all is well.’

‘I fully intend to do so, at least once a week,’ she answered. ‘You can also email or send a text message to me, or for that matter, you could telephone and leave a message for me to ring you back, if there are any emergencies.’

‘Don’t worry, there won’t be any emergencies,’ I responded wearily.

‘I hope not. I’m relying on you to behave sensibly and to look after yourself.’

I responded with another weary sigh and what I hoped was a withering look. Mum smiled in response.

‘So what are you planning to do in Shrewsbury between now and the beginning of September?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know,’ I said shrugging my shoulders; ‘I suppose I'll chill out with my cousins for part of the time, but I'll also need to try and find myself a part-time job if I can. I've three hundred and fifty pounds saved but I don't see that lasting me for the six weeks of the holiday.’

In fact I was quite glad of an excuse to get away from my home town for a few weeks as my only real friend there had just moved away with his family and I didn't want to admit to my mother that I didn't get on well with most of my school fellows, and had turned in to the local ‘Billy No-mates’.

‘Karen and Anne are now grown women and have full-time jobs and steady boyfriends. There's only Clare who is of a similar age to you,’ she answered.

‘In that case I'll chill out with Clare, if she doesn’t object to my company. Then there's always the Internet — I've some school projects to complete and Aunt Carol confirmed that they do subscribe to broadband,’ I replied.

‘OK but just be careful and don’t do anything that might embarrass your aunt or your cousins.’


Mum was due to catch her plane at Birmingham International Airport whereas I'd be travelling on the same train as far as Wolverhampton and then changing to a local train to take me on to Shrewsbury. We spent the next hour and a half either reading our magazines or else in desultory conversation, until the intercom announced our imminent arrival at her station. This caused a number of passengers to stir from their seats and get ready to disembark.

‘Will you give me a hand collecting my big case from the luggage rack please Chris, whilst I follow with my cabin bag? It looks as if quite a few of these people will be getting off the train,’ said Mum, noting the movement further down the carriage.

‘Alright, I’ll put it on to the platform for you,’ I answered, ‘but keep an eye on my case for me as you go past, please.’

‘I can’t imagine any of these people wanting to pinch your scruffy old jeans and tee shirts,’ she said smiling.

‘Perhaps not,’ I replied. ‘But it is a respectable looking suitcase and so no one will know what's inside.’


We said our goodbyes on the platform whilst several teenagers with American accents sorted themselves out and walked past dragging their own luggage towards the exit.

‘I’ll see you in September, she said, giving me a final hug and a kiss. ‘Be sure to behave yourself, and I hope you have an enjoyable summer.’

‘I hope your trip will be successful,’ I responded.

‘So do I!’ she answered. ‘Thanks for being so understanding and co-operative with the arrangements.’

The train was about to leave so I boarded again and waved through the window.

As I re-entered the carriage I double-checked that my suitcase was still in the rack - it was - although not in exactly the place that I'd left it. That didn't worry me since the other passengers had extracted their own cases and so probably had moved mine out of the way in the process. I returned to reading my magazine until we reached Wolverhampton where I changed trains and waited for the Chester service which would take me as far as Shrewsbury. As I waited for my connection on the platform I noticed the sky had become darker towards the northwest and it looked as if there was going to be a thunder storm ahead.


My prediction proved to be right. By the time I alighted at Shrewsbury, thirty minutes later, it was beginning to rain quite hard. I therefore stood in the ticket office of the station awaiting the arrival of Aunt Carol, who had promised to meet me from the train. Whilst I waited I tried to retrieve my hooded windcheater from the case but found that the combination lock refused to open. The same thing had happened to me once before when a case suddenly changed the combination for no obvious reason, (although I later discovered that a switch behind the lock had not been set correctly). I cursed under my breath and decided I'd have to wait until I reached my destination before I could sort it out. Then, at last, Karen, the oldest of my three cousins, turned up carrying an umbrella.

‘Sorry I’m late Chris but Mum has been called away to look after Gran, who has had a minor stroke. I had to ask for special permission to leave work early so that I could come to meet you,’ she explained.

Karen had recently qualified as a nurse.

‘I’m afraid my sisters and I will be looking after you for the next couple of weeks until Mum gets back,’ she added.

‘I’m very sorry to hear about Gran, is she going to be alright?’

‘I spoke to Mum at lunchtime and it looks as if she is going to make at least a partial recovery, although she will need some home nursing for a while.’

‘Does my Mum know about it?’

‘No, it only happened last night and my mother decided to say nothing to Aunt Jill as she knew how important this European tour will be to her business plans. She’ll telephone her to fill her in with the details later this evening. So in the meanwhile, I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with the three of us.’

‘That’s alright by me,’ I said. ‘I'll be quite alright looking after myself. I wasn’t expecting anybody to look after me.’

She looked at me and my suitcase.

‘My car is parked in the Post Office car park, I’m afraid it is about a five minute walk away. I couldn't find anywhere to park in the street nearby,’ she said taking my case. ‘Haven’t you brought a raincoat or an umbrella?’ she asked.

‘I have brought a hooded coat but I’m afraid it is locked in the case and I can’t seem to open it at present, something seems to have happened to the lock.

‘In that case I’m afraid you’ll get wet as I have only this small umbrella, but if you like I'll take your case for you and you can follow me.’

‘Thanks’ I said following her into the rain.

Although well meant, that wasn't such a good idea as Karen, holding an umbrella in one hand, couldn't pull my case as quickly as I would have done with both hands free. No sooner had we left the station than the rain came down in torrents and in no time I was wet through. Even Karen, with her umbrella soon became soaked.

‘We’ll have to change our things once we get back to the house otherwise we will both get pneumonia,’ she commented as I loaded my luggage into her boot and got in the passenger seat next to her and started to drip on the car floor.

By the end of the four mile drive to my Aunt’s house in the Shropshire countryside I was feeling decidedly wet and cold.


Anne, the second of my three cousins, and Clare her younger sister welcomed us to the house. Anne worked in an office in town, and apparently had also left work early on that day. Clare was seventeen and would start her final year at school in September and was currently a lady of leisure.

‘Welcome you pair of drowned rats,’ said Anne.

‘Is the weather always like this in Shrewsbury?’ I asked.

‘No we save it up especially for your visits Chris. However, I suggest you both get changed out of those wet things quickly.’

‘I'm just going to change my clothes and blow dry my hair,’ said Karen, ‘but as you have been traveling all day Chris, why don’t you hop in to the bath?’

‘Alright but I'll need to sort out my combination lock first,’ I said, ‘otherwise I’ll have nothing to change into.’

‘Don’t worry about that for now, here's a bath towel and you can put this on when you come out,’ said Karen handing me a towel and a plain white bath robe. ‘We'll sort out your case for you. Feel free to use any soaps etc. in the bathroom. Also, if you leave your wet clothes outside the bathroom door, I'll put them straight in the washing machine along with mine.’

I did as I was told and soon felt a lot warmer and more relaxed than before.


Whilst I was in the bath my cousin Clare kindly started working through every possible combination starting from 000 until she eventually came to the one which opened my case. It took her about half an hour before she knocked on the bathroom door to announce her success. So I thought it was an appropriate time to emerge from the bathroom dressed in the white bath robe. I came downstairs to the living room to find my three cousins had my case open and were looking somewhat puzzled.

‘I have to say young Christopher that we all admire your taste in lingerie,’ said Clare.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked, blushing.

She held up a dark blue silk camisole top.

‘That isn't mine,’ I said incredulously.

‘Well, we were beginning to wonder about you,’ she said. ‘This case seems to have been packed full of rather attractive girls’ clothes, and there is no trace of anything one might have expected you to wear. Are you sure that you have brought the right luggage with you, or is there something you need to tell us about your lifestyle?’

‘Well it is of the same make and colour as my case and it has been in my sight ever since mum got off the train,’ I said.

‘What about before that?’

I then stopped to think for a moment and remembered helping Mum at Birmingham International station.

‘Oh my God! I’ve a horrible feeling that someone may have taken my case from the luggage rack on the train at Birmingham Airport and left their own one behind. I lost sight of my luggage when I helped mum to carry her case off the train. Now I come to think of it, there were a number of American teenage girls who got off at the same time as she did’ I said.

‘That would at least explain the lingerie and why your combination didn't open the lock,’ commented Clare.

‘We had deduced that the owner was probably from the United States as there are a couple of printed plastic carrier bags inside, one is from a department store with branches in New York, Boston, and Philadelphia. But there doesn't seem to be anything else in the case with the owner’s name or address on it,’ said Anne.

‘That means that my case is probably en-route to the USA by now,’ I said with a note of dismay in my voice.

‘Don’t worry Chris; she's bound to get in touch as soon as she discovers her mistake. By the look of things her clothes are a lot more expensive than yours’ would be and so no doubt she'll want them back,’ commented Karen trying to be encouraging.

‘The only problem is that I’m not sure there is anything in my luggage which would identify me,’ I said racking my brains.

‘Didn’t you put your name and address on your case?’ asked Anne.

‘It was a brand new suitcase and I hadn't got round to doing it. In any event, I wasn't taking it abroad. I was only taking it on a train and assumed that it would be in my custody throughout the journey,’ I said sheepishly.

‘What about inside your luggage, is there anything that might have your name and address there?’ asked Karen.

I thought hard.

‘Oh God, my wallet with my holiday money was in the pocket of my coat which I slipped inside the case at Euston station this morning,’ I said.

‘How much money?’ asked Karen.

‘Three hundred and thirty pounds’ I responded.

I was now very worried indeed.

‘But surely your wallet will have your name and address,’ said Anne.

‘No, I took out my bank card and put it in the pocket of my shirt. I don’t think there was anything else in the wallet to identify me.’

‘What about a credit card?’ said Karen.

‘I’m too young to have one.’

‘So Chris, let us now take stock of your situation! You are now two hundred miles from your home without any clothes and without any money to buy some new ones,’ said Karen with a note of gentle sarcasm in her voice.

‘And you cannot go back home to get some other clothes because your mother has just left for an extended trip overseas,’ added Anne.’

‘I do have about twenty pounds and the clothes that I arrived in,’ I added weakly.

‘I'm afraid that twenty pounds won't even take you as far as Birmingham, let alone the south coast, and the clothes you arrived in are currently in the washing machine,’ said Clare.

I blushed and felt very foolish in front of my cousins.

‘I suppose I'd better telephone Mum and ask her to send me some money to buy some new clothes,’ I said.

(Next time How my loss led to the opportunity for some work)

I got the inspiration for the first chapter from Crystal Sprite’s How I Spent My Summer Vacation (see http://www.storysite.org/story/howispentmysummervac~01.html ) although I've changed the setting. From chapter 2 onwards it is entirely my own story.
Louise.

up
272 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

A Fortuitous Adventure: or, how I got my first job

Looks as if he will find out how much fun it is to be a girl.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

And THAT...

Extravagance's picture

...is why I do not put my suitcase in the luggage racks! I put it on the window seat next to my aisle seat, balance it on my knees if the train is busy, or just sit on it in the vestibule.
Anyway, I like where this is going... ;)

Catfolk Pride.PNG

Shrewsbury

I wrote one about Shrewsbury, miss!

The suitcase....15 seconds is more than enough to get one open. Trust me on this. But I'm not telling you how.

Without Lost Luggage We Wouldn't Have a Story

littlerocksilver's picture

We have been fortunate to travel the rails in Britain, Germany, Austria, and Italy. I admire the European and British rail systems, even though some of the residents deride their lack of efficiency. What you have over there is so superior to us. We have a tremendous potential for rail travel in the U.S., but rail travel is dying. The fuel inefficient long haul trucking business (sorry Wren) is killing it, and the fact that passenger service in most areas sucks is certainly a contributory factor. We get one passenger train a day through Little Rock, and I think it's at 3:00 AM.

The one thing that does bother me about travelling by rail in Europe is the lack of control over our luggage. Frequently, we can't store it near our seats, and have to put it in a luggage rack at the end of the car (carriage) out of sight. I get paranoid (probably due to my xenophobia) about somebody stealing it when I'm not watching it. It's happened to friends between Naples and Rome. We've never lost anything. Delta Airlines does that with great skill.

Portia

Portia

A Very Nice Beginning!!

I am looking forward to reading more of your story.

Louise, Having read

Louise,
Having read Crystal's story, I thought your beginning sounded familiar, so I can't wait to read how you adjust the story in the second chapter. Hugs, Jan

Indeed...

I agree... Crystal's 'How I Spent My Summer Vacation' (heck, anything by Crystal) is a very tough act to follow. However, at least in this case our hero(ine) wasn't beset upon by a recently release prison ne'er-do-well. ;)

Do continue your story through to the finish. Originality is not so much in how the story is set up as in how it is told and how the characters are impacted.

-sb

Coordinated
Educational
Network for
Talents and
Emergent
Resources

Coordinated
Educational
Network for
Talents and
Emergent
Resources

Ouch!

Yeah, lost luggage is a frequent opener in TG literature, but a case exchange with an American girl's a novel twist. It'll be interesting to read what happens and how much protest he shows at having to wear female clothing.

Hopefully at least we won't experience the other trope - his male clothing accidentally / deliberately ruined...

 

Bike Resources

There are 10 kinds of people in the world - those who understand binary and those who don't...

As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!

Hope they are his size.

Hypatia Littlewings's picture

Well he does have some cloths with him if they fit.
Lets just hope they are "her" size. Some how I think they will be.
And we must not forget the cousins' wardrobes either.

how nice to find more

very pleasent entertainment.

Thank you so very much, I know its been 3 years since you wrote this, but I missed it so now I get to enjoy

Goddess Bless you

Love Desiree

It is NOT an unusual thing to happen to one's luggage

Until a few years ago I worked all over Europe, with occasional trips as far away as Canada, USA, India and Japan, with lots of flights on regular passenger aircraft. I calculated that, until I wized up and took special precautions, approx, one in twenty times my luggage went missing. Some places were worse than others - the very worst place for luggage going missing was Brussels, in Belgium. By contrast, SAS and airports in Scandinavia were pretty good. I NEVER leave money or important documents in luggage - the risk of being attacked and robbed is far lower than it just being collected by the wrong passenger or someone stealing it off the plan, or train, or bus.

Another bad thing with ordinary air travel is how the baggage is thrown about by the baggage handlers and their machines.

Only in one per hundred times was it a permanent loss - usually the luggage was sent to one place whilst I was taken to a different one. I went from London to Madeira to a week long Congress, but my bag went to Moscow. It arrived the day we left after the Congress.

There are places - like the Seychelles, where the airport lacks facilities and your cases are thrown from the plane to land on the concrete below (that may have changed by now as it was perhaps 30 or more years ago when that happened to mine).

Railways are not any better than airports, but I try to avoid using trains, and these days I try to fly in private aircraft - in both cases the main advantages of private flights are that they actually go from where you are to where you are going to, directly, thus saving hours sitting around awaiting a connexion, or having to stay in some awful airport hotel overnight, because your first plane was delayed and the connexion had left before you landed. Increasingly, normal commercial airlines have gotten less and less acceptable with their lack of service and poor attitudes to passengers - hiring a plane, or sharing a private one, is much better. Only downside of it is the price.

The ordinary, soft baggage styles tended to fall to bits after about 3 or 4 trips - in the end I acquired an almost indestructable object called an Atlantic Vault, with which I must by now have made over 250 trips by normal flights. The only drawback with it was that all the cheap airlines insisted on me paying extra for it, sometimes even more for the case than for me.

It is tough, huge, and they STILL have not ruined it. It must be at least 20 years old by now. You don't see them about, so may be they are not even made any more.

Neat beginning of story BTW. Looking forward to the fun ahead. Thanks for sharing it with us all,

Briar

Just Smile

This sounds like every teenaged boy's dream, naked with 3 cute girls trying to help you, a suitcase full of expensive girl's clothes, just think West Virginia, where cousins make the best wives, (You know her folks, after all).

Cefin