Collette Bonnar's Short Stories: Polly’s Love Island

“How about we forego the bingo tonight and go to Fibber Mulligan’s for a few drinks?” Polly Mildrew suggested when she bumped into her friends, Oliver Turner and Rose Dillon in the village store.

“Yes, it’ll be a change,” said Rose while Olive agreed.  “I’ve had a brilliant idea.” Polly told them. “In fact, my idea could change our lives forever,” she added mysteriously. “Polly, I get the distinct impression that this is another of your hair-brained schemes that will not have a good ending,” said Olive.

“Trust me ladies, nothing could go wrong.”

“Famous last words,” said Rose as they left the store.

Later that evening, the three friends met up in their local pub. “The drinks are on me,” Polly announced as Joey, the barman, came to take their order.  After they’d settled with their glasses of prosecco, Olive said; “Well, Polly, do tell, what’s it this time?”

“I’ll cut straight to the chase. As you both know I’m a big fan of Love Island on the telly. In fact, I can’t wait for the next series.”

“We’re well aware of that, Polly, you never stop banging on about it,” said Rose. “Hear me out. I’ve come up with a fantastic idea. I’m going to organise our own Love Island.”

“What?” her friends chorused.

“I’ve already put it up on Facebook and I’ve got a great response,” Polly was grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve been checking things out and there’s a hostel on Rathcarrick Island off the west coast.”

“Hang on a second,” said Olive. “Don’t for one moment think, we’re going to be joining you and a crowd of young ones on a remote island in the west.”

“Aha. But that’s where you’re wrong. It’s more mature folk like ourselves who have put their names forward…”

“Probably the unattached grannies and granddads of the young ones who engage in Facebook,” said Olive. “Well, not quite,” Polly said defensively. “Oh, don’t be so negative, there will be some fine men looking for a little love, just wait and see.”

“Ah no. Count me out,” said Rose while Olive strongly agreed.

“Where’s your sense of adventure. It will be brilliant craic,” said Polly as she signalled to the barman for another drink.

“Huh. I can just imagine,” said Olive. “We’re a bit long in the tooth to be sporting fake tan and skimpy little bikinis.”

“But, Olive, you’re nice and portly, that appeals to a lot of men…” said Polly. “Look, let’s not get personal,” said Rose when she noticed Olive’s jaw drop. “We’ll have a gas weekend,” said an undeterred Polly.

“It could be gas alright,” said Olive. “I still don’t think it’s my cup of tea.”

Three glasses of wine later, Olive and Rose were on board. It looked like Polly was going to have her own slice of Love Island and her loyal pals had caved in.

The following month, Polly stood outside the minibus which was parked beside the village green. With folder in hand, she checked that everyone was now on board. 

Looking around the bus, Rose whispered to Olive. “I feel so young compared to the others and I’m no spring chicken.”

“Look on the bright side,” Olive chuckled. “We’re probably the only three on the bus with our own hips.”

A short time later, as the bus trundled along the narrow, winding roads, Polly glanced at the other passengers then turned to her friends and squawked; “I think we’re going to have to liven this lot up.”

Polly had dressed for the occasion, sporting white cut-off trousers, a sparkly top, and gold flip flops. Rose and Olive wondered how she’d rough it on the island if the weather turned nasty. They also noticed that when Polly bent over, the orange fake tan didn’t quite stretch to above the knees!

After a bumpy journey, the group finally arrived at Rathcarrick island. Some of the passengers were a little green around the gills after the short crossing on the ferry. “Well, we’re here at last folks,” Polly gaily announced as the motley-looking crew retrieved their luggage from the minibus and made their way into the run-down hostel.

“What’s on the itinerary for the first night?” asked Olive as she heaved her case onto the narrow bed.

“You promised a weekend of fun and surprises and maybe a little love,” said Rose. “I can’t wait,” she added dubiously.

“Well, there’s dinner booked in The Fox’s Lair for 7.30 and then there’s bingo afterwards,” Polly told them.

“Oh, the excitement of that and so original,” said Olive. “Although, I can’t see us lounging around the pool in our bikinis, like they do on the telly,” she chuckled.

“Thing is; there isn’t a swimming pool,” said Polly sheepishly. “I thought we’d all spend some time on the beach…”

“Are you stark raving mad. How could we tog out at our age and the shape we’re in?” said Rose.

“Maybe we’ll just chill out around the hotel,” Polly mumbled.

“Hotel? You mean grotty hostel. Besides, the crowd on the bus looked like they were going to a funeral and not a wild weekend away.”

Later, the group assembled for dinner in the island’s only pub and restaurant, The Fox’s Lair. “Well, isn’t this lovely,” said Polly as she tried to inject some enthusiasm into the gathering.

“Huh,” snorted Cissie Lee, one of the very sour looking women in the group.

“Doesn’t seem like there’s much love in the air,” said her pal, Aggie Bensen.

“Give things a chance,” said Polly, nodding towards two bachelors, Norrie Butler and Ned McIntosh.

Taking a large sip of her sherry, Aggie declared in a loud voice; “If that pair were the last two men on earth, I wouldn’t tackle them…”

Norrie who had been guzzling red wine, retorted; “Well, you’re no oil painting yourself. I’ll say it must have taken some neck to sign up for this weekend. I suppose you’ll be wearing a big housecoat to hide your saggy bits when we head to the beach tomorrow.”

Cissie quickly jumped to her pal’s defence; “There will hardly be any heart flutters with you two in sight, more like your pace makers and dodgy blood pressure…”

“Ah who asked you?” said Ned.

“Listen, folks, calm down,” said Polly. “No need to insult each other.”

“She started it,” said Norrie, glaring towards Aggie.

“Let’s face it, you’d be some sight on the beach with your string vest and trousers rolled up to the knees…” Aggie spat.

Olive decided it was time to intervene; “I think we should all enjoy the meal. But it doesn’t look like this Love Island idea is a good one,” she glared at Polly.

Rose then added; “I suggest we take the early ferry in the morning and head home. As far as Love Island is concerned, the lily has been gilded a bit here,” she too, threw a dagger look at Polly.

Polly had to concede defeat, best quit while ahead before the weekend turned into a complete disaster. “Yes, we’ll check out of the hostel in the morning. I think we’ll all stick to watching Love Island on the telly in future.”