‘Come on, you look fine as you are,’ Jacob wheedled as he pulled me in for a kiss.
‘Fine!’ I shrieked playfully. ‘Fine!’
Horror flooded Jacob’s face. ‘No, not fine, beautiful, more than beautiful, exquisite, gorgeous… aaah!’
I burst into laughter at the look of fear on his face. ‘I’m teasing, you idiot! But seriously even if you think I look beautiful, exquisite, fine or whatever else you said, I do need to check on Lydia.’
‘Okay,’ Jacob sighed, and I was glad he brooked no argument.
Although I hadn’t told him all of Lydia’s private business, I did tell him that she was having memory problems. Jacob had been very understanding, explaining that many of the residents at Maison Retrait suffered with memory problems including dementia. He said that living with the young gave them a fresh perspective and helped them maintain their focus. Having spent time at Jack’s apartment I didn’t doubt it. The place had felt so positive and was a million miles away from the care home my gran had ended up in when she couldn’t look after herself any longer.
As we turned the corner, Jacob pulled me towards him and then I felt his lips on mine. The only thing I could think about was the gorgeousness of his kiss. We had done a lot of kissing that afternoon. We had also done a lot of talking, strolling, cuddling and I personally had done a lot of lusting. With every moment I spent with Jacob I felt as though my heart was going to leap into flames. He wasn’t just undeniably gorgeous but he was smart, funny and exciting too.
I had already secretly texted Rachel an update about our date. Naturally she had demanded information at every turn, wailing that now she was an old married woman she was living vicariously through me.
But I knew I had to return to reality and check Lydia was all right before I could enjoy seeing Jacob and Jack at the restaurant.
‘Come on, I’ll see you in an hour.’ I grinned, extricating myself from his arms.
‘But it’s too long,’ he wailed, making me laugh even harder.
‘Go!’ I laughed, shooing him away.
Back inside the hotel I didn’t bother with the lift back up to my hotel room. I was so high on life I felt as if I could climb the Eiffel Tower three times over. Like an excited child I couldn’t wait to tell Lydia everything.
Gingerly I knocked on the door of her hotel room. At Lydia’s insistence we had booked adjoining rooms but I didn’t want to invade her privacy and so I had never used it.
Still no answer, so I tried again but nothing. I checked my watch. There were now less than forty minutes before we had to meet Jack and Jacob for dinner. Our flight back to the UK was first thing in the morning and tonight was a celebration – our last chance to enjoy all that Paris, along with friends old and new had to offer.
Suddenly I felt a buzz in my pocket. Pulling out my phone I saw Mum’s name flash across the screen. I felt a flush of excitement as I saw it, the novelty of being able to talk and text my mum was still fresh and new.
Hi Erin, just wanted to say hello. Hope you and Lydia are enjoying yourselves in Paris. Safe journey home, love Mum and Dad xxx
I felt a sudden glow and resolved to send Mum a message the minute I found Lydia. It was all down to her I was even receiving texts in the first place and although I knew there was no way to repay her for the kindness she had shown, I wouldn’t rest until I’d tried.
As I tapped away again at the door, anxiety began to gnaw away at me. What if she had fallen or was hurt? I felt a flash of exasperation as I realised I was going to have to use the adjoining door after all.
Stepping inside, I snapped on the light and gasped in surprise – the room was spotless. The bed was freshly made, all of Lydia’s belongings, like the water bottle, laptop and glasses case she had left on the bedside table had gone. And the coat she had slung casually over the back of the chair since we arrived was nowhere to be seen.
A knot of worry began to form in my stomach. I raced over to the wardrobe and flung the doors open – it was bare, as though Lydia had never been here.
I sank back onto the bed and tried to think. Just because she had taken all her stuff this didn’t necessarily mean anything. It was possible she had taken her things to Jack’s for some reason, or even gone home because there was a problem back in Bath. I thought back to the last time I saw her. She had seemed happy and upbeat, there was no cause for alarm. Anxiously I checked my phone for any message from her, but there was nothing.
Quickly I dialled her number, but it rang and rang, and I cursed myself for not taking the time to show her how to set up her answering service so people could leave a message.
I got to my feet and pinched the bridge of my nose. Think, Erin, think. But I had no idea. There was only one person who might know, I realised: Jack. I scrolled down to find Jacob’s number and felt a surge of relief as he picked straight up.
‘Missing me already?’ he teased, his warm tones making my insides turn to mush.
‘Jacob, have you or Jack seen Lydia?’ I asked, getting straight to the point.
I heard an exchange of voices before Jacob returned to the line. ‘No, why?’
‘All her stuff’s missing,’ I said, finally giving into the fear that had been building inside. ‘She’s not answering her phone and I don’t know where the hell she is.’
‘What?’ Jacob sounded as shocked as I felt. ‘Hang on.’ Once again I heard another exchange of voices but above the noise of the street I couldn’t work out what they were saying.
‘Erin, we’re not far from the restaurant. Can you meet us there now and we’ll work out what to do? Granddad says the last he heard from her was this afternoon. She rang him asking if he knew of a solicitor he could recommend.’
‘A solicitor? Why?’ The knot of worry now becoming a massive great ball.
‘No idea,’ Jacob said. ‘But look, get down to the restaurant as soon as you can and we’ll find her. Don’t worry Erin, we’ll find her.’
As Jacob hung up, I took a deep breath and buttoned my coat back up. Just then my eyes strayed to the table under the window, and I saw a series of envelopes. Cautiously I stalked over to them, fearful of what they might contain as if they were an unexploded bomb. To my surprise, I saw two were addressed to Phil and Luke, and a fat one had been left for me.
Anxiously, I ripped it open, and at the sight of Lydia’s careful handwriting a sob caught in my throat.
Dear Erin,
Firstly, I’m sorry for the cloak and dagger way I’ve done this. I’ve taken the coward’s way out, I know that, but I couldn’t stand to see your face as you tried to talk me out of it. The truth is, my lovely friend, I haven’t been entirely honest with you. You see this trip wasn’t just about finding Jack, selling our antiques or even celebrating our friendship as I said to you earlier. It was in fact about me – about celebrating the end of my life as I know it. As you know Erin, I’ve been having problems with my memory and a few weeks ago I finally had the diagnosis I had fretted over confirmed. I have Alzheimer’s.
In a way, having a diagnosis has been something of a relief. Now I know exactly what my future holds and precisely what it doesn’t. I’ve decided to take control and I have you to thank for that. What I’ve realised on this trip is that I have spent too long letting others control things for me. This is my life and I want the final say over what happens now. Erin, I won’t be coming back with you tomorrow. I know this isn’t the best way of breaking it to you but I’ve made my mind up and I don’t want you or anyone else to talk me out of what I’m going to do next.
You, my darling girl, have a wonderful future ahead of you and that’s why I have made provision. Phil and I are so very fond of you, Erin, and we have talked about you long into the night. We have both come to realise that neither one of us likes getting old and after many a heart to heart, Phil has decided not to expand the café after all. After much reflection, he thinks it will be too much. When you return to Bath, I want you to go straight to my solicitor – Edward Delacroix in George Street. He is expecting you and will have a bundle of papers for you, but amongst them will be the deeds to the florist’s next to Phil’s café which I have bought for you with the profits from the business and the sale of the E-Type which has been handled by Phil while we have been away. Thanks to you, Erin, we have done better than I could ever have dreamed, I have paid off the debts and there’s far more than I ever anticipated– it’s only right you are rewarded accordingly. As well as the shop, you will find all the profits from our business, along with all my books, treasures and anything remotely connected to the Simon and Garfunkel Antiques Brigade. These are for you to set up your own antiques business, or in fact anything else you might choose. You have a real flair for antiques and you have such a good business head on your shoulders I know you can set the world on fire. I have put the house on the market, but the proviso is that you are free to stay there until you have found suitable accommodation. Mr Delacroix has strict instructions to ensure you have enough money for a deposit from the sale to buy a place of your own – the rest will go to Luke and I hope will help him, Hannah and their new addition forge their way in life.
I’m going to sign off now. I know this might sound ridiculous but I don’t want you to worry. I want you to remember me as your old friend Lydia, rather than some old woman who had trouble remembering her own name. I don’t want anyone to think of me that way.
Erin, getting to know you has been the greatest love affair of my life and that will always be a memory I shall treasure.
Yours affectionately as always,
Lydia
As I finished reading the letter, tears gushed from my eyes like Niagara Falls. I felt as if my heart was breaking as I read and reread the letter. My poor lovely friend – her worst fears realised. I knew that no matter how tough Lydia was, discovering she had Alzheimer’s after all she had endured would have left her bereft. But the worst thing about it all was that she felt she had to deal with this alone. How could she just leave? And how could she make all these plans without talking to me? How could Phil? Why did nobody say anything to me? Rereading the letter again, I felt a sickening sense of dread – surely she wasn’t going to do something stupid? Like a newborn lamb I got up and stumbled over my feet, racing out of the room. This situation suddenly felt very urgent. I had to find my best friend, and I had to find her now.