The short, balding, middle-aged man exited the A26 motorway and headed east towards the small town of Châlons-en-Champagne. He was hungry and in dire need of stretching his tired limbs after the three-hour drive from Calais. But most of all, he thought, he needed to piss like a Grand National thoroughbred.
Love? Is everything okay?
Of course, I’m just taking this exit so as to take a slash and get a bite to eat.
You seem awfully tense. You’ve been gripping the steering wheel like you’re trying to get the last drop of toothpaste out the tube.
Just a little nervous driving on the opposite side of the road is all.
Marnie could sense in the tone of Sam’s voice – her husband of 28 years – everything wasn’t alright, but also knew well enough not to push the matter. She stared out the window at the lush, rolling countryside and as Sam took another left turn towards the town centre they crossed a river flowing languidly under the early afternoon sun.
Changing subjects, she asked:
The countryside is beautiful, isn’t it? Just as I’d imagined.
Looks like County Clare to me. ‘Course it has a few more trees and a few less sheep. And all those bleedin’ grapes. Bet we can get a decent bottle of plonk ’round here, eh?
Marnie watched the endless fields of vineyards rise and fall off into the distance as Sam slowed for the upcoming exit.
This trip was a wonderful surprise. It’s been donkey’s years since we last got away together. Love, are you sure we can afford it?
Argh, don’t you worry woman. I’ve got it all taken care of.
I just wish we could’ve stopped in Paris.
Sam sighed deeply, knowing he’d already explained his reasoning earlier in the day.
I told you before, there’s no feckin’ way I’m driving through that bloody city. Besides, the traffic would’ve slowed us down too much and we need to make Turin by tonight.
Why Turin?
‘Cos that’s where our feckin’ hotel is.
No need to swear love. Just asking.
Leaving the highway, they cruised slowly along a tree-lined boulevard north towards the town centre.
Do you know where you’re going, love?
Not really, but I’m aiming for that bloody great church up ahead and see if I can park somewhere. Then we’ll have a wander around and find a place to eat.
Sam found a parking spot not too far from the Cathedrale St Étienne, just off the Rue Juliette Récamier. While stretching out his back muscles he spied the colourful awning of a small bistro just a block away. After double checking the rental car was locked, he took off at a quick pace.
Hold up, love, you’re leaving me behind. I wanted to take a photo of the church.
After lunch woman. It’ll still be there. Come on, I’m about to spring a leak.
Oh, alright.
Marnie followed along as Sam hopped, stepped and shimmied to the bistro.
While Sam attended to business, a young girl who spoke a passable amount of English sat Marnie at a table outside. The white umbrella overhead, advertising Moët & Chandon champagne, thankfully shielded the table from the afternoon sun. Even still, Marnie felt the first pinpricks of sweat beginning to dot her brow.
Sam returned a few minutes later in a much more contented mood.
Sam perused the menu, not making heads nor tails of the offerings. Having made her decision, Marnie prompted Sam.
Do you know what you’re going to order, dear?
Probably the only French thing I know. What’s the sandwich called we get at out faux French joint back home?
You mean the croque madame?
That’s it. And let’s hope it’s still a ham and cheese sandwich over here.
I’m going to have the same.
The waitress returned with a bottle of sparkling mineral water and two glasses.
Have you decided on your order?
Yes, please. We’ll take two croque madames. The lady here will have a half carafe of your house white and I’ll take a bottle of your local beer. I’m feeling quite adventurous. As they say, when in Rome…
Sam handed the menus back to the waitress, smiled at Marnie and she gave a sly smile in return.
Love, again, I can’t tell you how happy I am we are taking this trip. Such a bolt from the blue it was when you sprung it on me.
Well, perhaps we can start travelling a little more in our advancing years.
Advancing years? The little performance you put on last night in bed surely told a different story.
Marnie thought she saw Sam blush, or perhaps it was just the effect of the warm sun on his pale skin.
Well… I… I guess I was just excited to be on a proper holiday.
I’ll say. The way you were goin’ at it hammer and tongs, I thought you were auditioning for one of them rap videos.
Woman, please!
As Marnie spoke the waitress appeared behind her with their orders. Marnie blushed uncontrollably as the waitress placed the plate in front of her.
The waitress shot Sam a small, conspiratorial, smile as she left. He beamed as if he owned the winning horse of the Irish Derby, raised his glass of Fischer and drank off half in one smooth tilt.
Lunch is lovely. You enjoying yours?
Yeh, brilliant, plenty of gooey cheese and the egg on top is nice and runny. Just how I like it.
This wine is delicious, too. Would you like some? I think I’m getting a little tipsy.
No thanks, love. I’ll just have perhaps a second beer, still got a lot of driving to do.
You know this wine… the lovely weather… the beautiful countryside…
What are you trying to say, woman?
Well… perhaps we could have a go at round two tonight. What say you?
Sam smiled. They’d been together almost 30 years, with a mountain range of ups and downs in between, but he still loved her just as much as the first time he’d laid eyes on her.
He went, begrudgingly, with his mates that night to the dance hall down by the seaside at Dun Laoghaire. A band was playing U2 covers, loudly and badly. When almost ready to call it a night; his eyes locked onto a dark-haired beauty across the room. With the brashness of youth, and a building reputation within the IRA, Sam was used to getting what he wanted. But he met his match that night. Three approaches he made asking her to dance, she rebuffed him twice before agreeing. Towards the end of the night he held her close dancing to I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For. Sam looked deep into her eyes and knew for a fact he had.
I’m not sure I have too many moves left, but I’ll see what kind of show I can put together.
Oh, Sam.
Marnie giggled, leant back from the table and drank the last of her wine.
The colour drained from Sam’s face as if his chin had sprung a leak. He sat forward, all senses on full alert.
What presents are you speaking of, woman?
You know. In our suitcase. While you were in the shower this morning, I was going to get your clothes ready and noticed the packages.
They’re not for you, woman. You stay well away, you hear?
Marnie was startled by the tone of his voice.
Sam looked across the road to the cathedral searching for an answer hopefully hidden somewhere on its façade or etched into the ornate stained glass windows.
He settled on something close to honesty.
I’m carrying them for a client.
A client? What client?
Enough questions, woman. Jaysus. It’s payin’ for your feckin’ holiday so let it drop.
Marnie glanced around to see nothing but empty tables, even still she lowered her voice.
Sam, tell me we aren’t carrying drugs. Is it why you were so nervous at the border?
It’s not drugs, alright? It’s just something I need to do for some old friends.
Old friends?
A moment’s contemplation gave Marnie the answer, then a profound tiredness washed over her.
Sam leaned in closer to the table. His voice low.
Sam turned from the table and signalled the waitress for the bill. Marnie rose, tears springing to her eyes and headed inside to the toilets. There, she splashed a little water onto her face from the small basin, dabbed it dry with a paper towel and composed herself. Walking back to the table she noticed a television recapping the day’s headlines. Marnie couldn’t make out what they were saying but the camera shots were of various Allied Irish Bank locations. The scene then shifted to a young lass reporting from the street outside of a Bank of Ireland branch in Drumcondra. She stopped dead in her tracks.
Marnie asked the bartender what the story was about. Fighting through his broken English, Marnie got the gist of the report. She slowly headed back to where Sam was finishing up with the bill.
Sam turned to face Marnie and began to rise from the table.
You ready?
Yes, best we make our… getaway.
Marnie marched off leaving Sam in her wake to follow, all the while mumbling under her breath.