‘Just a little congratulatory gift,’ Dad said, as we opened the boxes.
I couldn’t protest, but it did bring a tear to my eye as we had a group hug.
Suddenly, my mobile kicks into life and I see that it’s Sally.
‘Morning. I’ve just retweeted you and shared your latest post,’ I inform her.
‘Thanks, I’m running behind this morning. I’ll be online shortly to reciprocate. I’ve only just had time to glance at the free paper. Did you know there’s an article about you?’
I gulp. ‘No. What, in Saturday’s paper?’
‘Yes. It’s a nice little article, actually. Well done, you! Anyway, must make a start but I have that Monday morning feeling. Maybe I need a little sugar fix.’
‘Well, I’ve just done my first walk of the day and am about to make a chamomile tea.’
Sally groans. ‘Okay. Point taken. It’s mind over matter and I’ll have a cup of tea instead. You’re beginning to sound like a health nut, but I do hope some of it rubs off on me. I need to get back to the gym, that’s for sure. Catch you later.’
I rummage around in the sitting room for the paper and when I can’t find it, I ring Mum.
‘Only me. Do you have a copy of the local paper? I can’t find ours and Sally says there’s something in there about the award.’ I can’t keep the incredulity out of my voice.
‘Oh, that will be Keith. Dad said he bumped into him in the supermarket. He’s one of their reporters and Dad told him all about your success. Roger?’ Mum calls out to Dad and I wince, as she hasn’t pulled the phone away from her mouth. ‘Leah’s on the phone. She says Roger did an article on her – what fun!’
Fun?
‘Um … Mum, can you find it for me? What exactly did Dad say?’
‘Only how proud we were that you’d won an award. He’s found the paper. Oh, my!’
It’s a positive exclamation but a chill runs down my back.
‘Gosh, there’s even a photo of you. How wonderful! Roger, ask next door if they’ll let us have their copy. I’m going to frame this one and we need a copy for Leah to show Rosie.’
I feel like a bystander.
‘Don’t worry, Mum, I’ll go online to read it. Must go.’
‘Don’t forget you’re both here for dinner on Wednesday night. I’m making spaghetti bolognaise.’
‘Wouldn’t miss it for anything.’
My phone is already nestled between my shoulder and my chin, as I Google the paper’s website.
It’s probably a quarter of a page in total judging by the length of it and the headline is Leah Castelli Brings Home a Top Travel Award. I breathe out a small sigh of relief. Clearly this is based on the press release circulated by the Traveller Abroad publicity people and not merely the gushy words of a proud father. It’s all good publicity, just rather unexpected.
It’s time to head out for my second walk of the day and when I leave the house my head is buzzing. I up the pace a little, gradually calming down, and my thoughts return to the latest changes I’m making to the website. Then inspiration strikes and I come up with a way of cramming in more sponsored ads by including them in posts. I want the website itself to look informative, rather than to be covered with adverts and this solution would solve that problem.
Walking might be healthy but it’s also uninterrupted thinking and planning time.
~
At gym club, I watch enthralled as Rosie executes a perfect back-flip. She lands with apparent ease and both feet planted firmly on the ground. Throwing up her arms, she arches her back and maintains a dignified pose. Her face is beaming.
‘Good work, Rosie. Nicely done.’ Miriam Peterson’s approval is enough to make Rosie’s cheeks glow.
That was certainly a shining example of a perfect landing but every time I watch her perform my stomach does its own involuntary flip.
Miriam waves out to me and heads across the mats in my direction. Even so, her eyes are everywhere and she doesn’t miss a thing.
‘Liesel, relax those shoulders!’ Her voice booms out across the studio floor.
‘I hear congratulations are in order,’ Miriam says, with a gush. ‘I read the article and that’s quite something.’
I can feel my cheeks reddening, as this has caught me off–guard.
‘Yes, it was a bit of a surprise, though.’
‘Ah, well, it’s nice to have an interesting hobby and all those free holidays. I’m envious!’
I try not to frown.
‘It’s a bit more than a hobby,’ I add, but my voice begins to trail off.
‘A hobby with benefits,’ Miriam laughs, totally missing the point.
‘It is very hard work, actually.’
Why am I feeling so defensive? Miriam doesn’t understand any more about my industry, than I do about hers.
‘Nice, though. Guess you’ll be flying here, there and everywhere, now.’ It’s dismissive and her tone is beginning to irritate me.
‘I only blog about places I’m happy to endorse one hundred per cent. Being a critic isn’t always easy but it’s gratifying when a client invites me back after making improvements.’
Even her smile is now annoying me; it’s patronising.
‘You get a second trip? Amazing. And all those freebies for you and Rosie to test. I bet you never have to buy anything holiday-related.’
I give up.
‘Rarely,’ I concede, deciding it’s simply better to agree and change the subject. ‘That was a perfect back-flip Rosie performed there.’
‘If she worked harder, she’d make the team.’ Miriam’s gaze doesn’t falter and I can see she feels I don’t push Rosie hard enough. But Rosie is happy attending two classes a week and taking part in demonstrations; the fact that she isn’t interested in competing is entirely her own decision.
And that’s where Miriam and I differ so greatly. You can’t force someone into doing something and I’m not going to put pressure on Rosie for simply wanting to take part for the sheer fun of it. Much to the annoyance of the sometimes scary Miriam Peterson.
The Word is Spreading
I modelled my approach to evaluating a holiday venue on the iconic hotel inspector, Yolanda Jackson. I figured from the outset that whilst I didn’t have the scathing tone and quick-to-anger attitude I’ve witnessed her dishing out so often on her TV programme, I do admire her integrity. And the way she is simply trying to help owners to raise their standards so that visitors get value for money. That’s essential if they want to stay in business.
Today’s post contains several parcels addressed to Rosie, and I always leave her to open them herself. Aside from that, now I’m back from my walk it’s time to hit the emails.
With Easter only ten days away we already have a day trip to a theme park and a visit to a children’s petting zoo in the diary. It looks like our next trip abroad isn’t until the summer half-term holiday, at the end of May. So even if the UK turns out to be wet and windy, which is often the case for bank holidays, hopefully we’ll be basking in sunshine.
Surely it can’t get any better that that?
~
‘Rosie, can you see who’s at the door please? I’ll be there in a second.’
I press ‘send’ on the email I’ve just finished and a little frisson of excitement makes my stomach do a dip.
‘Mum, it’s Naomi and Callie.’
There’s a lot of laughter coming from the hallway as they all barrel into the kitchen.
‘Well, this is a nice surprise, neighbour. Shall I pop the kettle on?’
Naomi shakes her head, still laughing at whatever the girls found funny, as she walks over to give me a hug.
‘No, sadly we can’t stay. We’re on a mission.’ She looks across at Callie, her eleven-year-old daughter.
‘I’m doing a walk for charity, Leah. Will you sponsor me? It’s five miles and I’ve been training, so I know I can do it.’
‘Ah, that’s great, Callie. When is it?’
‘Sa
turday morning.’
She hands me the form and I take it, grabbing a pen. It’s for childhood cancer and who wouldn’t want to give to that cause?
‘That’s very kind, Leah. Every little bit helps.’
‘My pleasure and way to go, Callie – that’s awesome. Well done, you!’
‘Can I give some money too?’ Rosie pipes up. We all turn to look at her.
Naomi flashes me a glance and I nod.
‘Of course, Rosie. You can spend your savings on anything you want and I can’t think of a more deserving cause.’
As Callie and Rosie lean over the form on the table, Naomi gives me a look of ‘ahh!’
‘Sorry I’ve been absent lately, I had meant to pop down now I’m around a little more.’ I do feel guilty and I miss our interaction since Callie moved to the senior school last September. Her school is the other side of town and it’s not possible to do both trips and car share anymore.
‘I understand, Leah. Besides, judging from the papers, you’ve been very busy. First the local and now the national papers.’
‘What?’ It comes out like a pistol crack. Why am I always the last to know about these things?
‘I saw it in the Daily News, this morning. It was a big spread about the travel industry and some sort of awards ceremony. I didn’t know your blog was so popular. I mean, I knew you had a website for your photography business, but I had no idea! And is that your award?’
She looks over to the bookshelf and I nod, thinking maybe I should move it somewhere slightly less noticeable. But I work from the kitchen table and it’s the hub of the cottage.
‘Yes. It was unexpected news but very welcome. I’ll be focusing on that in future and the Rosie’s Suitcase feature is a big part of it.’
Rosie’s smile extends from ear to ear, as Callie gives her a gentle nudge.
‘You’re practically famous,’ she grins. Rosie blushes.
‘Can I give Callie one of those sun protector sprays? They’re brilliant, Mum, they don’t feel gluey on your skin.’
I laugh and Naomi joins in.
‘Of course. How about one of the inflatable cool bags, too? They’re next to your wardrobe in the black bag.’
The girls head off upstairs and even though there’s a two-year age gap between them, I ponder on the fact that only a couple of inches in height separates them. In terms of maturity, Rosie is ahead of her years. Should I be sad about that?
‘Thanks for your donation, and Rosie’s. We have a lot to be proud of with our girls, don’t we? I’d heard on the grapevine that you were working from home full-time now, but didn’t want to barge in and break up your working day. That must be a real relief, though,’ Naomi says.
‘It is, to be honest. You were brilliant with the car sharing. And Mum and Dad have lived their lives around my schedule but now, finally, I can ease the pressure on them. The award has made all the difference but, ironically, I didn’t give winning a moment’s thought because I was nominated alongside the best bloggers I know.’
I indicate for Naomi to take a seat while we wait for the girls to return.
‘Rosie will, no doubt, ask Callie for feedback on the freebies for her next review. She’s turning into a right little journalist.’
Naomi’s eyes widen. ‘She’s an old head on young shoulders, that’s for sure. Anyway, share the rest of your news – what trips do you have coming up?’
I try to contain my excitement.
‘Well, today I’ve been offered a chance to be flown out to a cruise ship for forty-eight hours. And a family-run hotel in Athens are keen for me to feature them and are offering Rosie and me a five-day stay during half term.’
Naomi’s jaw drops.
‘Don’t say anything when the girls get back as I haven’t told Rosie about Athens yet and for the cruise I’ll have to go on my own as it’s in term time.’
‘Wow! Now I understand why you’ve been working yourself into the ground. You’ve made it happen, Leah, and no one deserves it more.’ Callie looks suitably impressed. It gives me a warm glow for a moment and then I stop to think about her words.
Am I being a tad oversensitive here, or does everyone around me feel that I’m a bit of a sad, and therefore deserving, case?
‘I guess, but maybe it’s my turn for a little boost from the universe.’ I mean, everyone is due a little good luck every so often, aren’t they?
‘Well, when you’re constantly sending out good karma, you gotta eventually get some back!’
Is Naomi right? Or is the residue of my anger and resentment still festering in the pit of my stomach, waiting to be unleashed? Sometimes I feel like there are two of me, the good Leah and the bad Leah. The bad one wants to scream, but the good one won’t let it. That’s negative, Leah, and it’s not a road you want to travel down.
‘Let’s see what the girls have discovered, shall we?’
All Aboard
Short notice about the cruise is good – tomorrow, the fifteenth of May, is departure day. With my working life so busy and the workload mounting after a hectic Easter holiday period, it doesn’t give me any time to fuss. Just enough time, in fact, to sort things out at home and pack a medium-sized suitcase. Rosie does her own packing for her stay at Mum’s and decides that she’s going to take a few of her ‘test’ items with her. One is a disposable toiletries pack with more things in it than we have in our bathroom cabinet.
When I drop her off I get a wonderful hug, until Scruffy – the dog who lives next door to Mum and Dad – sneaks under the fence and bowls into the garden.
‘Scruffy! You came to see me!’ Then Rosie is off playing and I’m already forgotten.
Mum, as usual, is a little anxious but trying not to show it.
‘Just remind me again what the itinerary is for this wonderful little trip of yours?’
I sigh. I’m a grown woman and still she worries.
‘In the morning, I’m catching the 7.25 a.m. flight to Nice from Gatwick airport; then a shuttle bus will take me to Port Hercule, Monaco. Now stop worrying!’
I roll my eyes and she laughs.
‘Me? Worry? Never! Just take care of yourself and … well … have fun, anyway.’
She wasn’t going to say the have fun part, but one look at my face stopped her before she could begin reeling off the warnings.
Her hug tells me she won’t rest until she sees me again in three days’ time.
~
Nestling back in my airplane seat, I’m thinking first class would have been a nice touch. And I’m rather dismayed to find out that food and drink is no longer included in the price of the ticket. It’s only just over a two-hour flight to Nice airport but the time difference means you lose another hour on top of that.
It’s fast approaching one o’clock by the time the shuttle pulls into the vast car park at the port. I text Mum to confirm I’ve arrived safely and that everything is fine. A quick glance out the window confirms that it’s a bit of a walk with the luggage along Quai Rainier III. It stretches out rather magnificently, hovering above the deep blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea. The guy sitting next to me on the bus has been quite chatty on the journey and I learn that he’s joining the ship for the remainder of the cruise. The next two stops are in Italy – Portovenere and Portoferraio – then it sails on to Corsica, ending the tour in St Tropez.
‘I’m only here for forty-eight hours to review the latest addition to Sun, Sea & Tide’s fleet. I gather it’s only six months old, although I’m not sure how many trips she’s already made,’ I tell him.
‘Interesting, so you’ve done this before then,’ he remarks, as we wait for the other passengers to alight. We’re sitting in the back row where we have a lot more room. It’s a bench seat for four people in total but he, too, is travelling alone and we both instinctively headed towards the rear of the bus. I still don’t know his name and I feel a little awkward now, suddenly asking.
‘Well, I haven’t, actually. This is my first experience of being o
n a cruise ship. It’s rather exciting. And you?’
‘My umpteenth trip,’ he replies with an engaging smile. ‘It’s an easy way to relax. You have the option of doing very little and simply enjoying everything on offer, or taking part in excursions and seeing the sights. I work in finance with long hours and lots of back to back meetings, so for me it’s about switching off from everything and enjoying some fresh air. Home for me is in Leeds, how about you?’
I nod, acknowledging it’s a full itinerary without the hassle of making all those arrangements.
‘The Forest of Dean in Gloucestershire.’
I wonder why he’s travelling alone. A cruise must be much more fun if you have someone with you to share the adventure.
‘Ah, a place I’ve yet to visit. I think it’s safe to make our way to the front. I’m Harrison Buchanan, by the way.’
He offers his hand and we shake, then begin to make our way along the narrow aisle between the seats.
‘I’m Leah Castelli.’
‘Is that an Italian surname?’
I swallow hard. This is a question I’m going to have to get used to answering from people who don’t know me and my history. ‘Yes. I met my husband when I was on holiday but we’re separated now. I still use my married name because I have a young daughter.’
I can see he’s embarrassed. ‘I’m so sorry, Leah, I didn’t mean to pry. Here, let me grab that case for you.’
He quickly lifts my case out of the trailer behind the shuttle and extracts the handle for me, before manhandling his own, rather large, suitcase.
As we follow the snake of people along the quay, taking time to admire the azure blue water that surrounds us, it’s obvious Harrison is a seasoned traveller. Maybe he’s even done this particular route before, as he seems to know his way around. I’m rather grateful I can simply follow his lead. My eyes are darting everywhere; I’m taking in as much of the detail as I can and suitable phrases are already jumping into my head in preparation for writing my article.
A Greek Affair Page 3