‘OK.’ I whispered when we eventually moved apart. Normally I am so uptight about showing emotions in public – I just knew my cheeks were scarlet as I glanced around the cafe at the other customers. None of them were taking the slightest bit of notice of us. France is like that, I’ve found. Very relaxed about displaying emotions.
It was early evening when we got back to my apartment. ‘Thank you for a lovely day, Nino. Would you like to come up?’
He shook his head. ‘Not tonight. I’ll head off. Got some things to sort in the studio I’ve rented for winter. I’ll see you tomorrow – about midday.’
Our goodbye kiss was witnessed by a middle-aged couple who muttered in English ‘Get a room’ as they walked by. But you know what? I didn’t care. I felt wonderful.
30th October.
Bella phoned this morning. ‘I was planning to come over next week but I can’t get the time off,’ she said.
‘Next week?
‘Your birthday?’
‘God, I’d completely forgotten about it. Nobody down here knows it’s my birthday so I’ll probably ignore it.’
‘You have to tell Nino. Besides, you’ve still got time to organise something. Impromptu is always good. I’d planned on flying over for forty-eight hours but I can’t get the time off, so the card’s in the post. I’ll bring the pressie with me next month.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Gotta go. Call you tomorrow.’
Thoughtfully, I switched off the phone. Like I’d said to Bella, I’d completely forgotten what the date was. Must be getting old.
What to do? In the past I’d always been thoroughly spoilt on my birthday. Cards, presents, a party or dinner at a favourite restaurant. Now though? I could hardly blatantly ring people up, ‘Hey, it’s my birthday, want to come to a party?’ I’ve always felt a bit awkward inviting friends to celebrate – as if I was asking for presents. Family of course are different.
No family down here, so who would I invite? Mentally I totted people up. Nino, Eliosa, Lotta, maybe Jamie if he wasn’t busy with his new girlfriend, and perhaps Jacques would pop in for a bit. They’re my closest friends here. So, to party or not to party?
NOVEMBER
Well, I’m not going to forget this year’s birthday in a hurry, that’s for sure. I was just unwrapping several cards and a parcel from England delivered by La Poste mid-morning, when Nino arrived.
‘It’s your birthday? Why didn’t you tell me?’ he said before kissing me lightly. ‘It’s meant to be a special day.’
‘I’d forgotten the date until Bella reminded me,’ I said, tearing the paper off Katie’s present. Erica James’s latest book. ‘Oh I love her books,’ and I placed it on the table.
‘We must celebrate your special day,’ Nino said. ‘Anything you’d like to do?’
‘I was wondering, do you think it’s too late to invite people for supper this evening?’ I said. ‘Just Eliosa, Lotta, Jacques and maybe Jamie if he can make it?’
‘Aperitifs, then when they go we have dinner and spend the evening together, alone,’ Nino said.
I smiled at him. ‘That sounds good. I’ll pop down to the delicatessen this afternoon and pick up some canapes.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
Which was how we found ourselves trawling round the local supermarche like a regular couple. With Nino putting things like scallops and asparagus as well as nibbles and three bottles of champagne in the basket, I was expecting the checkout bill to be high. Which it was, but Nino insisted it was his shout.
We stopped off at Jacques’ bar on the way home, and the moment Nino told him it was my birthday Jacques opened a bottle of pink fizz to celebrate. Invited him for aperitifs and he said he’d try to make it.
When we got back to the apartment, Nino told me to go and invite Lotta and Eliosa for the evening, while he prepared lunch.
‘I was only planning baguettes and cheese – which is nice and quick.’
‘Go. Give Eliosa my love.’
Lotta was just on her way out when I ran downstairs but said she’d love to come.
Eliosa seemed flustered when she answered my knock and didn’t ask me in, which was unusual. ‘Hi, birthday aperitifs at my place – seven o’clock this evening?’
‘Lovely. Can... can I bring a friend?’
‘Of course. See you then.’ She’d closed the door before I could ask if her friend was her new boyfriend. Do hope it is. Have been longing to meet this man she likes too much to marry.
I rang Jamie’s mobile and left a voicemail. Do hope he comes and is less worried about Katie and Matt now. Katie is still bubbly whenever I talk to her, so things are clearly going well with both Matt and her job.
I was hoping that Nino would spend the afternoon with me, but he said he needed to go back to his place and change for the evening. Fair enough. A couple of hours on my own would give me time to check my e-mails, maybe do a bit of writing and have a soak in the bath before getting things ready for the evening. Not to mention deciding what to wear. It was my party after all.
When I opened up my laptop, one of my e-mails was from Ben – wishing me a Happy Birthday and telling me he was now back on speaking terms with Katie, which is such a relief.
Usual e-mail from OB acknowledging receipt of my latest Jessica’s Jaunts piece. There was a message tagged on the bottom saying when I arranged a meeting with my book publishers not to forget to call in at the office to see him as well.
I quickly typed “Was planning to meet up with them in January when I’m back living in the UK so make sure you’ve got the coffee on” and hit the reply button.
Evening.
Nino was back earlier than I’d anticipated, clutching a bouquet of roses and a large white box which he carefully placed on the kitchen work surface before turning to give me a kiss.
‘Mmm, you smell so good,’ Nino murmured, nuzzling my neck before giving me another kiss which had me wishing I could cancel the invites and spend the entire evening alone with him.
‘Looking beautiful too,’ he added, holding me slightly away and studying my cream dress with the sweetheart neckline that showed off my agate necklace to perfection.
‘What’s in the box?’
‘Something for later. Now, what is left to organise?’ he said.
‘Just the candles to light, champagne’s in the fridge, canapes are plated. Let the party begin.’
As if on cue, the doorbell rang. ‘Come in,’ I called as Nino gave me another kiss before releasing me.
Nino was busy lighting the candles as I greeted Lotta, who was swiftly followed by Jacques and another bottle of champagne.
‘We are celebrating yes?’ Lotta asked as she handed me a gift-wrapped box of chocolates and a card. ‘Happy Birthday.’
I nodded. ‘Thank you. Here’s Eliosa. Jamie, you made it too.’ As I handed them all a glass of champagne, I glanced at Eliosa. ‘Your friend couldn’t make it? I was so looking forward to meeting him.’
‘But he is here. Jamie is my friend, Jessica.’ She smiled up at him as he took hold of her hand.
‘You and Jamie?’ I looked from one to the other. ‘He’s the one you won’t marry because you like him too much?’
Eliosa nodded.
‘That particular reason is currently under discussion,’ Jamie said. ‘I’m planning on changing her mind in the near future.’
Nino and I must be on the same wavelength, because as a sudden thought struck me about how Eliosa’s brother Giovani would take the news, Nino asked, ‘Have you told my father?’
‘No, but we intend to visit and tell him soon. It’s only in the last week Eliosa has agreed to outing our secret,’ Jamie said.
‘I wish you luck, my friend. Best invest in a flak jacket before you go,’ Nino said. ‘Excuse me a moment, I have to fetch something.’
‘What about Matt? Have you talked to him?’ I asked.
Jamie nodded before giving a rueful smile. ‘Half an hour ago. He didn’t exactly go overb
oard with the congratulations. Had the cheek to ask me if I knew what I was doing.’
Sipping my champagne, I thought about Katie – what her reaction was likely to be. But really, it’s nobody else’s business is it? Eliosa clearly makes Jamie happy and he her, so sod the age difference as far as I’m concerned.
And let’s face it, if the difference was the other way round, nobody would even remark on it. There would definitely be no “cougar” name calling ,which is what I think is worrying Eliosa.
Nino appeared with a birthday cake then – clearly the contents of the box he’d brought earlier – with a sparkling candle blazing away, and everyone sang Happy Birthday to me.
Everybody kept to the “no more than an hour” aperitif unofficial rule and left shortly afterwards, leaving Nino and me alone. Nino insisted he was cooking dinner – the asparagus and scallops he’d bought earlier.
I set the table, lit some more candles and placed another bottle of champagne in the ice bucket and we sat down to eat together.
‘This is delicious. Thank you,’ I said.
‘My pleasure,’ Nino answered before leaning in to kiss me gently. Then he drew back and said, ‘Jessica, I was going to wait awhile to tell you this, but it’s not good we have secrets from each other even for a day or two. I’ve been offered another capitane position for next summer.’
‘A bigger yacht?’
‘Eighty meters. Unlike Bruno, the owners do not charter. They live on board for five months and explore different parts of Europe.’
‘Sounds a great life.’
Nino nodded. ‘For them. For me – I’m not so sure.’
‘Why?’
‘The yacht would be based in Sardinia for a start. Not this side of the Mediterranean.’
My heart sank. He’ll be even further away when I move back to the UK and I’d bet my life on there being no budget flights available.
‘So most of the cruising would be in the eastern Mediterranean rather than along the Riviera coastline.’
‘I thought you liked working for Bruno.’
‘I do. I had no intention of looking for another yacht, but this job came looking for me.’
I sipped my champagne, not knowing what to say.
‘If you want, you could come to,’ Nino said. ‘Good crew are always hard to find. Fancy being a stewardess on a luxury yacht? You’re good with people.’
I smiled and shook my head. ‘I might be good with people but I’m not a very good sailor. I’d probably spend most of my time throwing up.’
Nino stood up and picked up our glasses. ‘I’ve got until January to decide. Come on, let’s sit on the settee and finish our drinks. Be more comfortable and we can talk.’
But talking proved to be the last thing on our minds after Nino took a package out of his pocket and handed it to me with the words, ‘Happy Birthday, ma cherie.’
Carefully I opened a small box and caught my breath. A beautiful Swarovski crystal bangle glittered up at me. I pushed it over my hand onto my wrist and admired the way it glinted in the candlelight. I turned to give Nino a thank you kiss and was enveloped in a tight embrace that I never wanted to loosen.
18th November.
It’s been weeks now since I’ve written anything in this diary. Beginning to think my diary therapy is nearing its natural end. Life is so different these days, but I’ll keep going for the rest of the year – it’ll be a keepsake and something to look back on when I’m even older.
I feel so much better about things now, although I still need to get my head around certain recent events. I have to concentrate on features for Jessica’s Jaunts and the book, as well as try to clear my mind to make some serious decisions for my future. Perhaps it’s time to start writing a proper blog in preparation for the book next year.
20th November.
The insistent ringing of a telephone woke me early this morning and I fumbled on the bedside table trying to find it to shut it up.
‘Katie? Is something the matter? It’s only seven o’clock here.’ Which made it even earlier in the UK. I slipped out of bed and reached for my dressing gown on the back of a chair. Quietly, I tiptoed out of the bedroom pulling the door shut behind me.
In the kitchen, I switched on the kettle as I listened to Katie. ‘Matt is furious with his father. He can’t believe he’s shacked up with Eliosa.’
‘Don’t think they’ve shacked up together yet,’ I protested mildly.
‘D’you know how long it’s been going on?’
‘Not sure. Not that long. Why is Matt so cross about it?’
‘Mum! It’s gross – she’s fifteen years older than him. You can’t say you approve. Besides, it’s like she collects husbands. Look how many times she’s been married.’
‘I’m not sure she’s thinking of marrying him,’ I protested, remembering Eliosa saying she liked “this one too much to marry him”. ‘Besides, it’s nothing to do with me or anyone else – and everything to do with Eliosa and Jamie. They are both very happy,’ I said as gently as I could. ‘They’re not hurting anyone.’
‘Well Matt has completely freaked out. He blames you for introducing them.’
I ignored the last sentence and said, ‘I’d have thought Matt would have been pleased for his father after the tragedy of his mother. You know how lovely Eliosa is. Oh!’ I jumped as Nino put his arms around me and kissed my neck.
‘Have you got someone there, Mum?’ Katie demanded.
‘Umm. Yes.’ No point in denying it. Not sure how Katie would respond to my own news, I hesitated before saying, ‘Nino, Eliosa’s nephew is here.’
‘What is it with you parents?’ and the phone died.
Nino turned me to face him. ‘Problem?’
I sighed. ‘Seems like parents aren’t allowed to fall in love,’ I said.
‘Nonsense. Come on. Let’s go back to bed.’
30th November.
I’ve just got back from the annual Kermesse in Monaco. I only heard about its existence yesterday from Lotta when she asked if I was going and offered me a lift.
She explained it was a charity fundraiser held in the circus tent down by the helicopter pad, with Princess Caroline as a patron. Basically, it’s part vide grenier and part posh jumble sale she told me. Had to go after that didn’t I? I mean, Monaco and jumble sale are not words you expect to hear in the same sentence.
The circus tent is huge and the noise as we walked in was incredible. French, English, Swedish, Japanese, American, German – all the languages merged together in a cacophony of frantic sound. Lots of stalls around the perimeter selling craft, knick knacks, jewellery, homemade jams and chutneys, books, trestle tables piled high with clothes divided into men, women, children's. An area to one side announced itself via a banner as “The Boutique”.
‘That’s where you can sometimes find a real bargain,’ Lotta said. ‘They put all the designer label stuff in there. Got a beautiful Chanel dress last year for forty euros.’
The middle of the tent was full of tables and chairs with coffee and food stalls nearby. Lotta introduced me to a friend of hers who was sat at one of the tables, surrounded by bags and coats, a glass of red wine in hand.
‘I’m the gatekeeper for half an hour,’ she said. ‘So dump your coats and go look.’
Lotta headed off in the direction of The Boutique and I wandered towards a stall selling typically English Christmas stuff. Wrapping paper, cards, crackers, a large plum pudding, even a jar of mincemeat found its way into my bag. All the traditional things I’d been despairing of finding here in France were on the stall.
I bought tickets for the tombola and won bottles of whisky and sherry. At the second-hand book store I found myself picking up book after book until I stopped myself. What was I thinking? Finding English books to read wouldn’t be a problem in a few weeks. I’d be back in England with multiple choices. I put six of the books I’d picked up back down, paid for the remaining four (one a week until the New Year) and turned towards the remai
ning stalls.
Lotta found me by a stall selling vintage stuff, where I was looking at an evening clutch bag I was tempted to buy for Katie. Her muttered ‘Beautiful’ decided it for me and I handed over the fifteen euros before we made our way back to the table area.
The next hour passed in a mix of lunch, red wine and girly giggles with Lotta and her international set of friends. Swedish, German and Italian women – all of whom called either France or Monaco their home, and where they were happiest living. A couple were in relationships, Lotta and another couple were currently single but enjoying life with no intention of returning to their home countries.
‘Don’t you miss anything? The familiarity of things in your own language?’ I asked Lotta at one stage. ‘Family?’
Lotta shrugged. ‘No. I go home for special events, anniversaries et cetera, and Christmas of course. The family love to visit me down here and use any excuse to hop on a plane.’
It was gone three o’clock when we left, and the fundraising was still going strong. We were driving back along the corniche, the Med sparkling on our left when Lotta asked, ‘So, your Shirley Valentine year. You have made the most of it in the end? Despite family problems?’
‘No regrets about spending a year down here at all,’ I said. ‘It’s been a wonderful experience. Life-changing in many ways.’
‘And you’ve met Nino.’
I nodded. ‘Yes. I’ve met Nino.’ Nino was the biggest life-changing event of the whole year. The warm glow that filled my body thinking about him, slowly dissipated as I thought about how little of my Shirley Valentine year was left.
If only I wasn’t returning to England – and he wasn’t thinking of going to Sardinia.
DECEMBER
There was an e-mail from OB waiting for me when I got back from Monaco. I won’t bore you with the details right now, but basically he’s highlighted a problem I’m about to run into with the Jessica’s Jaunts column – a problem which needs a lot of thought. So I’ve said I’ll get back to him… when I’ve had time to do a lot of thinking.
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