As Sheena flies off to her next job, Alex and I are busy getting ready for our own trip. She was slightly emotional when we parted, hugging me and making me promise I will ring her when we are safely back home.
There’s a slight chill in the air as Alex and I quietly pack the car and it feels as if we are the only ones up and about. At five o’clock in the morning it’s a very different world. There’s something slightly decadent about being so wide awake and excited. There is little traffic on the road as we begin our journey to the channel tunnel. The miles speed by before the early morning rush hour begins to slow our progress.
We chat, listen to music, and once we are safely aboard the shuttle, we both fall asleep. It’s only just over half an hour, but the gentle sway of the carriages speeding along on the rails is blissfully relaxing. Only the announcement over the loudspeaker that we are about to arrive in France stirs us, and our holiday is about to begin.
The manor house, Le Jardin dans le Parc, is truly wonderful. Standing at the entrance to the sweeping drive leading up to the house, it’s amazing. The view of the eighteenth century building, set within the beautiful grounds, feels like a glimpse of heaven on earth. With its grand windows and detailed stonework, even on a grey afternoon it’s too beautiful for words. Most of the extensive grounds are covered in forest. Only the areas immediately surrounding the house have been cultivated. Rolling lawns, perfectly manicured flower beds and the most stunning display of topiary inspire this image of classic French style. It is indeed a garden within a park and beyond the trees there is a lake that runs close to the rear elevation of the house. Our room is at the front and overlooks the beautiful lawns and rose beds. Walking around to the terraced area, there is a sheer drop down to the edge of the lake. The stone flagstones are covered with a display of potted geraniums. All are still in bloom, although the leaves are beginning to fall as the chilly morning and night air reminds them winter is coming. The pinks, reds, and whites are a mass of blazing colour.
We settle in and realise that communication is going to be a problem. The couple who run the hotel are both Dutch and do not speak any English. Our French isn’t the best, so there is a lot of nodding of heads when we go down for dinner.
It’s too chilly to eat out on the terrace, but the dining room is very elegant. A cut-glass chandelier graces the centre of the room and doesn’t look at all out of place. The floor is varnished and with age is now a dark walnut colour. It creaks as we walk across it, in the comforting way that old floors do. Somehow it makes it feel more like being in someone’s home than being in a hotel.
The décor itself is more modern. The circular tables have pale green linen tablecloths and the chairs have cream brocade covers, tied with matching green bows. The attention to detail is both romantic and pleasing to the eye. Each place setting has an array of sparkling crystal glassware and the table centres comprise a white candle rising up from a ring of fresh flowers. It’s enchanting as the flickering candlelight reflects off the chandelier and the crystalware, sending little prisms of multi-coloured light everywhere.
Alex pulls out a chair for me, before seating himself.
“Well?” he whispers, leaning forward across the table.
“Perfect! It’s wonderful and I love it here.”
And perfect it was. The evening was a succession of wonderful food and some amazing wines neither of us had tried before. Everything was served with a genuine respect for the dining experience and great attention to detail. Each of the five small courses was accompanied by a different wine. The glasses were huge and only an inch or two of wine was enough to savour and not obliterate the wonderful flavours of the delicate cuisine. The menu was in French and Dutch, so we decided not to worry too much about the translation and to let each course come as a surprise. It ended with the most delicious tarte tatin—the pastry base caramelised to perfection and layered with apples so thinly sliced they were almost transparent.
The meal wasn’t heavy, but we decided to grab our coats and walk around the gardens simply to stretch our legs. Neither of us wanted the evening to end, it was as perfect as a scene from a film. Alex was looking so handsome in his dinner jacket and I felt at ease wearing a long evening dress. As we walked we held hands and then Alex pulled my arm into his.
“You look amazing tonight,” his voice sounded heavy with emotion. “Not that you don’t look great all the time, but you know what I mean,” he added.
“Thank you, I feel good and I think we both brush up rather well!” We laughed. The wine was pleasantly softening our mood, without overwhelming our senses.
“I think I can safely say that this has been the most memorable evening of my life. It’s all down to you, my lovely angel. Thank you for agreeing to come away with me.”
I burst out laughing.
“It’s a hard task but someone had to do it.”
He playfully tugged at my arm, safely tucked into his.
“Is it time to head back? There’s an incredibly comfortable bed awaiting us and a Jacuzzi for two…”
“Mmm, I think it’s that time. Wouldn’t it be lovely if life was always like this?” I looked up at the starry sky. From that vantage point, in the middle of extensive grounds and with only a little light pollution from the house spilling out into the darkness, there were millions of little twinkling lights. I wondered how anyone could ever believe there was only the here and now.
“Come on.” Alex encouraged me to begin walking back to the house. He pulled my arm a little closer into his body. “I can’t wait to find out what you are wearing beneath that gorgeous dress.”
“Alex,” I admonished, “there you go again.”
“I can’t help being in touch with my female side.” He laughed. “You do look gorgeous and I’m not apologising for using that word. I also can’t wait to get my hands on what’s underneath and show you what it does to me.”
“Okay,” I replied meekly. “Sounds good to me.”