Every month I put a FREE short story on here. Here’s the story for April, 2025.
The Bucket List
Maggie looked at the number on her birthday card. It was a big number. She sighed. She didn’t feel like a big number person. Inside she was still eighteen, still the devil-may-care, happy-go-lucky teenager she’d always been. What a pity the outside didn’t match the inside.
She looked in the mirror. Her mum’s face looked back. She didn’t have her mum’s grey hair, hers was a warm chestnut thanks to her local hairdresser, but there was the same twinkly green eyes and laugh a minute smile. Sure, time and its co-conspirator age had taken their toll but she’d retained her figure, well, more or less. Rather more than less perhaps she thought, with a chuckle, but she was still fit and reasonably slim thanks to her regular visits to the gym and swimming pool. Not bad, she thought, then mentally added ‘for your age’, which made her grimace. She sighed again.
Jenny, her best friend had said they should write a ‘bucket list’ now they had reached the allotted three score years and ten.
“Before it’s too late,” Jenny said. “While we still can.”
“What’s a ‘bucket list’?” Maggie asked.
“You know,” Jenny said. “Things to do before you kick the bucket.”
“Oh.”
“It has to be something of an adventure, something you’ve never done before, something new and exciting.”
Maggie couldn’t think of anything new or exciting she’d like to do, but promised Jenny she’d think about it.
That’s how it started. Maggie began looking back over her life at all the things she hadn’t done. She hadn’t become a Brain Surgeon or gone to the Moon. She hadn’t won the Nobel Prize or lived her life in the spotlight and dated Hollywood stars. She giggled. Surely that wasn’t what Jenny meant? No, she thought – rather than thinking about what she hadn’t done, perhaps she should think about some of the things she had achieved.
One – forty years of marriage to Bill. It had been a good marriage. Of course they’d had their ups and downs like all couples, their trial and tribulations, but they’d worked their way through them. They’d seen hard times, hadn’t everyone, but they’d just made them stronger. She still missed Bill, even after nearly ten years. She smiled at the memory of him. He’d be up there of course, watching her. She could imagine what he’d say about a ‘bucket list’.
“Don’t need a list,” he’d say. “Just decide what you want to do and do it.” That was Bill, always the practical one.
And they had grandchildren – five of them. That must be worth a tick on anyone’s list. Their eldest daughter, Sarah, had two boys and a girl, still in their teens but not for much longer. Their youngest, Connie, had two teenagers, a boy and a girl. Maggie’s heart warmed at the thought. She couldn’t resist a smile at the memories of them growing up. She’d earned the nickname ‘Fun Nanny’. Every summer when they stayed with her she’d arrange outings to the nearby Water Park, the Steam Railway and the travelling fairs. They laughed at the songs and ditties recalled from her childhood and the old fashioned games she’d taught them. A feeling of deep satisfaction filled her as the golden memories filtered through her mind. What on earth could she put on a bucket list that would match them? She couldn’t think of anything better than what she already had.
The next day Jenny came round – notebook in hand. “Right,” she said. “What’s first on the list?”
Maggie couldn’t think of anything.
“Oh, come on Maggie. There must be something you’ve always wanted to do.”
Maggie put the kettle on, set out the tea things and thought about it. She put Jenny’s light-as-a-feather sponge cake on a plate. “I wish I could make cakes like you Jenny,” she said absent-mindedly. “Mine always come out more like biscuits.”
“Aha,” Jenny said.”A cake making course – the first thing on the list.”
Maggie blinked. “Well, that was easy,” she said.
“Okay,” Jenny said. “What’s next?”
The rest of the morning was spent in hilarious contemplation of all the outrageous opportunities that might be open to them. Amid much laughter most of them were dismissed as ridiculously expensive and shallow or not practical, although Jenny said practicality wasn’t supposed to be an issue.
“It’s a wish list, – an ‘if only I could’ list,” she said.
“An ‘if only I had the courage’ list you mean,” Maggie added laughing.
Jenny sat bolt upright and stared at Maggie. “You have more courage than anyone I know,” she said. “The way you looked after Bill after his accident and worked to bring up your family. You always held your head high, no matter what. I always admired you for that. You simply got on with things, never moaning, never complaining. You just got on and did it.”
Maggie blushed and shrugged her shoulders. “Not much choice was there?” she said.
After a second pot of tea Maggie said she’d like to go dancing again. “That’s where I met Bill. Do you remember? The Ritz Ballroom.” She sighed. “I wonder what happened to that.”
“They knocked it down. There’s a block of flats there now.” Jenny sighed. “All I remember is the long walk home when we missed the last bus.”
Maggie smiled. “And with your feet on fire from being trodden on all evening,” she said.
“Tell me about it,” Jenny said with a grin. “I’ll put ‘go dancing’ on the list. They have tea-dances at the Town Hall, but it won’t be the same.”
“Do you know what I’d really like to do?” Maggie said.
“No – go on surprise me.”
“I’d like to go back to all the places I went with Bill – France, Italy, Spain. Revisit our past. Remember our honeymoon? We went camping in France.”
“Camping?”
Maggie chuckled. “Yes, it was all we could afford but it was glorious.” She sent Jenny a mischievous glance. “You’d be surprised how romantic it can be sleeping under the stars. I wish could do that again.”
“What – by yourself?”
“Why not? It’s not like it used to be. You should see the campsites they have nowadays. Pure luxury they are.” She set her tea down on the table. “You don’t even need to take a tent, they’re there, already pitched. And they have electricity. The kitchens have electric hobs and fridges. No sleeping on the floor either. They have proper beds and all the facilities. Some of those tents have five or six rooms. It’s unbelievable. It’s whole different world – you’d be amazed.”
“I already am,” Jenny said. She looked unconvinced but the more Maggie thought about it, the more determined she was to do it. She’d been a Guider when her children were young and taken them camping. They’d all loved it. Of course going on her own was a risk but other people did it all the time. He eldest granddaughter had just left to go back-packing around the world. Wasn’t that what an adventure was – a risky undertaking of uncertain outcome? All Maggie wanted to do was to spend a week on a campsite in the South of France. What could be so difficult about that?
Maggie decided to pursue the idea of going back to the place where she and Bill had been happiest. They’d been young, foolish and very much in love. She longed to recapture those days when everything seemed possible. She checked out the campsites on her computer. It was just as she thought – luxury camping at a price she could afford. The site she particularly fancied was a few feet from the beach in Provence. The images of eternal blue skies, constant sunshine, wide open spaces, tranquil water and the feeling of lightness of air combined to convince her that that was where she wanted to be. She’d need a sleeping bag of course, and cooking pots, kitchen supplies, water carriers and food, plus things to make her stay more comfortable, but she could borrow them from her daughter.
Maggie’s daughter Sarah and her husband Paul went camping every year and had done since their children were little. They had all the latest equipment and Maggie was sure she’d be able to borrow it.
When she mentioned her plan to Sarah she was horrified. “You can’t go on your own Mum,” she said.
“Yes I can,” Maggie said. “All I wanted was to borrow some of your equipment.”
Sarah shook her head. “It’s madness,” she said. “The South of France! How are you going to get there? It’s a hell of a drive. You’ll never manage on your own. You don’t even speak French.”
Maggie bristled. “I planned to go by coach,” she said.
“What with all the boxes you’ll need for kitchen equipment, supplies, bedding, food, clothes, etc? On the coach? And it’ll take forever.”
Maggie knew that. She’d checked the schedules. It was the part of the plan she dreaded the most. She knew from experience that, being a single traveller she’d be saddled next to the oddball extrovert that no one else wanted to sit next to. Maggie sighed. Part of her agreed with Sarah but she wasn’t about to admit it. She hadn’t thought it through. Too impulsive, that was her problem. Bill was always saying so. Now she was beginning to have doubts herself. Had it been a crazy dream? Was she too old to go on holiday alone? Was she mad to even think about it? A cloud of disappointment descended over her as her dream slipped away.
Sarah must have sensed her dismay. “Look,” she said. “Who don’t you ask Paul’s dad, to go with you. He’s camped with us before. He knows the ropes and can take turns with the driving. He speaks French too so that’ll be a help.” Sarah smiled at Maggie. “He’s been at a bit of a loose end since he’s been on his own and you’d enjoy the company. What about it?”
Maggie brightened. She remembered Geoff. He was an easygoing, friendly chap and she’d got on well with him when they met up at family gatherings. He’d lost his wife six or seven years ago and Maggie knew he missed her. If that was the price she’d have to pay for borrowing the equipment, so be it. She’d rather go alone, having another person along would be distracting, but it made sense and she had to be practical.
So Maggie rang Geoff and he said he’d be delighted to go with her. He called round to her home and together they went on Maggie’s computer to choose the site and plan the journey. Geoff had lived in France before he married so he was familiar with the requirements, rules and regulations attached to driving through the country. Maggie watched as he planned the journey in meticulous detail. She found his thoroughness reassuring. Bill had always been the one who made the plans and checked the details. Maggie wasn’t one for details – it those heady early years she’d been the blue skies thinker, the one who saw the bigger picture, the one who came up with the ideas and the optimism to see them through. She’d had a wild streak then and spirit. Nothing could hold her back in those days. It felt like a long time ago.
She bit her lip and brought her mind back to the present. Geoff was outlining the route they would take and where they could stop and, if necessary where they could stay overnight.
“No point rushing,” he said. “Take it slow and enjoy the journey.”
Maggie couldn’t have been happier. How good it felt to have someone organising things for her again, just like Bill had done all those years ago.
When Jenny heard about the arrangement she was elated. “Ooooh,” she said. “A new romance. Should I put that on the list?”
“Don’t you dare,” Maggie said. “That’s the last thing I need, a man cluttering up my life. I’m fine as I am thank you.”
It was raining when they set off but Maggie’s spirits weren’t daunted. Sarah and Paul had come to see them off. They were taking Geoff’s car as it had a bigger boot and he’d be doing most of the driving. Maggie had been designated the country roads between towns where the traffic would be light and the travelling easy.
Half-an-hour after boarding the Eurostar they were driving out onto the road in France. Maggie’s heart fluttered. Agitated butterflies filled her stomach. This had been her dream, now it was a reality. She was actually doing it. She hoped Bill was watching.
Most of the first part of the journey across France was motorway. Geoff drove smoothly and fast. Maggie relaxed in the soporific atmosphere of the speeding car. How different it was from the first time, on her honeymoon when they’d travelled in Bill’s old banger loaded down with camping equipment borrowed from the Scouts. It had taken them three days to get to Nice. Now they would do it in half the time.
“Would you like some music on?” Geoff asked nodding at the pile of CDs he’d brought along. Maggie looked through them. That’s the advantage of being about the same age, she thought. They’d had the same experiences, lived the same sort of life and liked the same music. There was comfort in that. Soon the sounds of the sixties filled the car taking her back to those glorious years when anything was possible.
They stopped at a small café in Reims for lunch. The air felt soft and warm around them. Maggie insisted on paying for the cheese, pickles and baguettes, but Geoff had to order them in his perfect French. Maggie was impressed.
“I really should learn the language,” she said as they sat down to eat.
“I’ll teach you,” Geoff said. “It’ll be nice to have a project while we’re away.”
Maggie grinned. That was just the sort of thing Bill would have said.
The rest of the journey was spent singing or humming along to familiar songs when Geoff drove and Geoff giving directions and interpreting road signs when Maggie drove. When they weren’t singing or humming Geoff made her laugh telling jokes and spinning yarns that had her in stitches. She noticed that Geoff laughed a lot and she laughed more than she had in ages. She began to wonder when she had become so serious. When had ‘Fun Nanny’, been replaced by ‘Worrywort Nan?’
They stayed overnight at a B & B in Lyon.
Over dinner Geoff talked about his wife and how he missed her. Maggie related stories from her life with Bill and how they’d met at a dance. “It’s something I want to do again,” she said. “It’s on my bucket list.”
“Bucket list?”
Maggie explained to him about the list.
“I could write a book about the things I’ve never done,” he said laughing. “Dancing? That’s something I’ve always wanted to do but never got round to somehow.”
“I’ll teach you,” Maggie said. “My holiday project.”
When they arrived at the campsite Geoff went to sort out the booking while Maggie unpacked the car and set up the kitchen and laid out the bedding in their separate rooms. That evening she cooked her camp speciality – spaghetti bolognaise, followed by fresh fruit salad.
“I’m impressed,” Geoff said, sitting back in his chair. “This is the best meal I’ve had in ages.”
Maggie glowed with pleasure.
Over the week they visited the Water Park, a local vineyard and the picturesque villages scattered among the densely forested hills. One day they went to Cannes and drove along the coast to Nice. It wasn’t at all like she thought it would be. It was nothing like she remembered. Of course it wasn’t the same as camping in a muddy field in England, but some things were universal – the freshness of the mornings, the simplicity and freedom that comes with living outdoors and the way the sky took on a pinkish hue when you came out of the tent. Apart from that, everything felt different. Somehow she couldn’t imagine Bill being here. Had she mis-remembered how it used to be? Was she chasing rainbows trying to re-capture something that was long gone if it had ever existed? Perhaps it was time to move on and forget the past.
They swam every day. Maggie relished the coolness of the water as it rippled over her skin. Geoff was also a keen swimmer. Maggie watched as he powered through the crystal water, muscles glistening in the sun. She relished that too. After their swim they’d lounge on the beach while their bodies turned brown. Geoff wrote out French phrases for Maggie to learn and corrected her pronunciation.
In the evenings they’d sit by the lake watching the sun set over the hills. As dusk fell, they’d put on some music, he’d take her in his arms and she’d teach him to dance in the moonlight beneath a thousand stars. Since Bill died Maggie had studiously avoided the company of men. Now she was beginning to wonder what she’d been missing.
On their last day, before they packed up, Maggie said she wanted to go to the Farmer’s Market to buy food for the journey. Geoff said he’d take a shower and walk to the bar in the village to meet her. She took Geoff’s car.
She hadn’t gone far when she saw a cyclist coming towards her a look of sheer terror on his face. In a heart-stopping moment she realised she was on the wrong side of the road. She’d forgotten to drive on the right.
Her blood ran cold. With her stomach churning, she swung the steering wheel wildly to the left. The car swerved violently. It seemed to speed up as she lost control. She felt an eerie sensation of time stretching forever as the car veered off the road and, with a heart-shattering screech and a loud crunch, landed in a ditch.
Momentarily stunned she sat paralysed. An iron band tightened around her chest. Breath squeezed out of her lungs. She felt sick and dizzy.
Within minutes a crowd had gathered. Workmen from the fields milled around chattering and gesticulating wildly. A man in coarse trousers and heavy boots, with a red spotted neckerchief tucked into the top of his collarless shirt, opened the car door. Maggie couldn’t move, didn’t want to move. What had she done? How could she have been so stupid?
The Gendarmerie arrived. It took three of them to get her out of the car. A plump woman wearing a flowered apron, took Maggie to her nearby cottage, plied her with sweet tea and comforted her. Thankfully the cyclist had also taken evasive action. He’d landed in a hedge with nothing more serious than a buckled wheel and a few bruises. He came round to see how Maggie was, which made her feel even worse.
When Geoff walked through the door Maggie’s heart leapt, until she remembered what she’d done. She burst into tears. “I’m sorry,” she said through her sobs. “It’s all my fault – your beautiful car-”
Geoff smiled and put his arms around her. “It’s all right,” he said. “It’s only a car. It can be repaired. You’re all right, that’s the main thing. I couldn’t bear it if-” he swallowed what he was about to say. He looked at Maggie’s face and brushed away her tears. “It’s all right love – really it is.” A reassuring twinkle lit up his eyes. “Of course it means we’ll have to stay a bit longer to sort things out,” he said.
Maggie bit her lip to hold back the huge swell of relief rising inside her. Warmth flowed through her. Perhaps Jenny was right, it was time for a new man in her life. She sniffed and managed to suppress a giggle. “In that case – well worth it,” she said.
If you enjoyed this story there are many more in my Short Story Collections here.
