In the beginning it was just us two. That’s the thing when you meet someone on holiday, away from your normal life. It’s probably why it happens so often – the holiday romance. You’re relaxed, away from all those responsibilities that demand so much of your energies back home.
Away from all that, you start to see things more vividly and fully appreciate the turquoise sea, a clear mountain pool, a searing blue sky. You’re open to new things – experiences, maybe even a spot of canyoning, if you’re into that! And falling in love. You’re open to that too.
I fell in love with a man who makes my life wonderful.
Of course, it wasn’t all plain sailing. The transition from holiday to real life nearly ended us, even though neither of us had wanted to break up. But everything had become too tangled and complicated. At least, it had felt that way at the time. Thank goodness Esther decided to get involved – in a good way this time, by cooking up a plan with Charlie that Bob could come and live with me.
So really, it was her who brought James and I back together. Or, more accurately, Esther, Charlie and Bob. A real team effort.
And now, a full year later, James and I are back in Corsica again. Although we’re staying at the hotel where we spent our first night together, we’re also spending plenty of time at my parents’ place. James has been working on the garden today, while Mum and I have rustled up a couple of salads to go with the leftover quiche I made yesterday, which we’re having for lunch. When I peep into Dad’s study he’s battering away at his keyboard with the force required for a manual typewriter in 1982. Earlier today, I happened to mention to him that ‘I’m getting to grips with how the book publishing industry works, Dad.’
‘That’s an industry now, is it?’ he asked with a bemused glint in his grey eyes. In his view, the word ‘industry’ is reserved for things like ship building and the smelting of iron. I also mentioned that I might be doing some cookery workshops to promote my book. ‘Workshops?’ he scoffed. ‘You’ll need your toolbox for that!’
Now Dad emerges into the garden, blinking like a mole in the sunshine, when lunch is ready. I glance at James and smile. He has brought a book with him; a huge textbook. It’s sitting face down and open on the bench. The Large Animal Veterinary Handbook, it’s called. He’s keen to refresh his knowledge on farm animals because, as he put it, it’s a very long time since he was at vet school.
‘I could set up a practice near you,’ he’s suggested. We’re talking about Fraser taking over the London practice and James moving in with me.
‘But I thought you were a city vet?’ I smiled.
‘I’m adaptable,’ he’d laughed.
‘I’m sure you’d still get the odd tortoise out there,’ I remarked, impressed by the solution he came up with, eventually, for a splint. Inspired by both Charlie and Esther’s childhood love of Lego, James fashioned one with a Lego wheel at the foot, and now his patient apparently moves around the garden without any trouble at all.
When we’d booked our flights, I’d hoped that Charlie would be persuaded to join us too. Not that I was going to beg him. But I know he’s always loved it out here, and lately we’ve felt a lot closer again. I’d already made a mental note not to nag him about sunscreen, and I certainly wouldn’t expect him to hang out with us all the time.
Perhaps, I’d thought, we could do it differently this time. Maybe he and James could do some cycling together, or we’d travel around the island for a couple of days, and leave him to do his own thing. I was open to suggestions because I’d realised, finally, that I can’t expect everything to stay the way it’s always been. Charlie is an adult, after all.
At first, he seemed open to these suggestions. I actually thought he was on the brink of saying yes. But he was just trying to let me down gently, I soon discovered. He didn’t want me to feel hurt. It turned out, when I went to book our flights, that Charlie wouldn’t be coming to Corsica this summer after all.
Apparently he had ‘other plans’.