by Lucy Coleman
Speak soon,
Pat
So, Karl lied to me yet again, selling himself in a good light when he took the cowardly way out. I instinctively knew he was unlikely to make a big announcement and risk looking foolish. But Pat has a point and besides, I’m not there to be affected by it all. Karl will be busy trying to prove his worth and impress the rest of the board so it seems I’m finally off the hook. Besides, the new bait is much bigger this time around – he’s now where he always wanted to be and he’ll be concentrating on making his mark.
Making Contact
Tomorrow, at long last, Lizzie and Daniel are due to arrive and I’m counting down the hours. Everything has gone according to plan; so well, that yesterday and today Sam and I are working outside. Sam is putting up a small picket fence to give each of the gîtes a bijou garden of its own. I’m in charge of planting and after two trips to buy plants, it’s beginning to look rather pretty. Gone are the compacted, ugly brown patches of dirt from all the trudging backwards and forwards. Instead there’s a stepping stone pathway. The building rubble was cleared by a guy from the village who spent yesterday loading it into a skip. Mum and Dad are inside setting up the bed and everything will be finished before the end of the day.
I finish patting the earth around the last plant and give it a good sprinkle of water. Sam is leant over fixing one of the uprights onto the picket fence. I stand, watching him in action and Ziggy trots up to join me.
‘What?’ He straightens, frowning a little.
‘Nothing. We think you deserve a high five.’ As if by way of endorsement Ziggy adds a meow before turning tail and heading for the nearest patch of shade.
I put up my hand and he meets it in mid-air. ‘Why?’
‘Because I’m impressed. This was a big job and you made it seem easy. One step at a time. If you can turn an old stone shed into this beautiful little house, then your barn is going to be stunning.’
He raises an eyebrow and it appears that I’ve said the wrong thing. He kneels down on the ground and reaches for another screw.
‘Have you been talking to my mother again?’ He throws the words over his shoulder, obviously annoyed.
‘Hey, I was trying to give you a compliment, so you don’t have to be so touchy.’
He makes a grunting sound. ‘It’s not rocket science,’ he mutters.
This is the old Sam and I wonder if he’s beginning to stress about the trip to Cannes? It’s ten days away and now we’re finished here he hasn’t mentioned what he’s doing next week. Obviously, I’m going to want to be around a fair bit to make the most of Lizzie’s visit, but it is a holiday for her and she’s going to be doing day trips with Daniel. If Sam decides to make a start on the second gîte, then I’ll be available to help out but I don’t feel it’s a question I can ask. I casually threw it in to a conversation with Mum but she wasn’t expecting him to be around, so maybe he’s taking a bit of time off.
But I’m standing here feeling bad as I didn’t mean to make Sam feel defensive and now I can’t leave things as they are.
‘I don’t suppose you are free tomorrow night, just for a few cocktails in the garden with Lizzie and Daniel? Mum and Dad have been invited over to Honorine’s for one of her famous suppers. Apparently, she makes a wonderful rabbit stew. Anyway, I wanted their first night here to be a bit special and I’m thinking of doing a few nibbles to soak up the alcohol.’
Sam’s head tips back and he looks up at me with a smile on his face.
‘You’re going to cook something?’
I give him a purposeful stare. ‘It’s not rocket science.’
‘Touché. Sorry, I’m being grouchy again today. I have a couple of interesting recipes for nibbles that take minutes to put together. But as for fancy drinks, I don’t have a clue.’
I grin back at him, relieved to see the awkward moment has passed.
‘Oh, I know my way around a martini, or two. Sounds like we’re sorted. Six o’clock?’
‘That’s a date.’
That’s a date? I check out his expression and he’s messing with me. I hope this is the fun Sam who is going to appear tomorrow night, as if Mr Grouchy takes over it will kill the entire evening.
*
It’s an early finish and after a relaxing bath I settle down in front of the laptop. Ziggy insists on jumping up onto the desk and walking between me and the screen.
‘Ziggy, that’s not helpful. Look, you can have the bed all to yourself for a while.’
I smooth her soft coat and she arches her back, stretches and then finally leaps across to curl up on the duvet.
All of the emails in my inbox are junk; one click, and they’re gone. But suddenly a new one pops up and it’s a response from Le vétérinaire ambulant. My heart rate increases as I click to open it up.
Hi there, Anna,
Thanks for getting in touch and I’m intrigued by your offer. My only problem is that I travel around quite a bit and spend very little time at home, or at work. I know the blog is a bit of a mess and I’ve never been happy with the design for the practice. It’s my fault as I tend to commission people to do things and then don’t have the time to get involved. So, I might not be the best candidate to take up your offer, even though it’s sorely needed.
Best regards, Tom
Soon my fingers are tapping away on the keys as a sense of excitement courses through me.
Hi Tom,
I wouldn’t really need any input from you. If you are happy for me to ‘lift’ some of the copy and photos straight from the blog and the website, I’ll pull a few ideas together and send you a presentation. If you like what you see, I can take it from there.
I think the charitable work you are doing is amazing and I’m not surprised you’re so busy. But I really think your online presence would benefit from a makeover and gain you an even wider audience. Many, I’m sure, would click and donate to some of the causes you support if the options were there in front of them. Also, it’s not clear from your blog that you run a veterinary practice, so it would be beneficial to link the two together.
What do you think?
Anna
I half wondered if I should mention Le Manoir d’Orsenne, but I decide to keep it simple. Anyway, this is something entirely separate and would be a coup for me. If I want to prove how diverse I can be in terms of ideas then this would be an exciting way to showcase that. As I’m about to put the laptop into sleep mode my inbox pings and there’s an almost instant reply from Tom.
Hey, Anna,
Determined lady, I like that! Feel free to grab whatever content/photos you like and I’ll be excited to see your ideas.
Thanks so much. Have a great day and I’ll wait to hear from you.
Tom
I close the email and then immediately open his blog to read his latest post. It’s all about a vervet monkey who was finally well enough to be released back into the wild today. There’s a short video capturing the moment and for a brief second the lens focuses on Tom’s face. It’s a magical shot and what I see reflected in his eyes isn’t just the thrill of another success, but the passion he has for what he does. He immediately high five’s the cameraman and that’s the end of the clip.
Seemingly out of nowhere, an image suddenly pops into my head that would be perfect as a logo. It’s a chain of animals in a circle, representing the world. I visualise a monkey with one arm outstretched and one trailing behind him, linking to a lion who is leaping and covers the top of the circle. Maybe that should be balanced by a few domestic animals so that the logo would work for the blog and the website. My brain is working overtime as I click on sleep mode and slip into bed. A menagerie of animals are now jostling for my attention and if I wasn’t so tired I’d sit down and begin designing the logo tonight. But my dreams are calling me and my eyelids are fluttering, despite the sound of Ziggy’s gentle snores in the background.
A Few Surprises
It’s late afternoon when our special guests arrive. It�
�s so good to see Lizzie and we hug like long lost sisters. Daniel waits patiently, shaking hands with my parents and then turning to hug me, as Lizzie turns to hug Mum.
‘It feels like such a long time. How was the drive?’ I have a silly grin on my face but it’s nothing compared to Lizzie’s beam.
‘It does. It was good; we stayed overnight at Rouen, so we’ve only been travelling for just over four hours today. We toured the cathedral there and the church of St Joan of Arc. Then we spent a couple of hours at the Muséum d’Histoire Naturelle. I had no idea it was the second largest natural history museum in France. Thanks for suggesting it, Anna.’
‘Well, I’m glad you’ve had a good day. Mum and Dad are out socialising this evening, so Sam is coming over shortly to don his chef’s apron. I thought we’d have drinks and supper in the garden later. Anyway, let’s get you settled in first.’
As we walk around Le Manoir and follow the path up to the gîte, Lizzie seems overawed.
‘Oh, wow! I’m not going to want to go home! Anna, how on earth are you going to be able to walk away from this? It’s a little piece of heaven. And here’s Ziggy!’
Ziggy runs straight up to Lizzie, who holds out her hand to be sniffed. Recognising an old friend, Ziggy immediately arches her back and angles her head, waiting to be stroked.
‘Aww, how she’s grown, Anna. I still remember her as a little kitten. She looked like a little cinnamon bun all curled up.’
‘I know. I’ve missed her so much but she’s very happy here.’
Mum and Dad are following on behind and as I turn to look at them they both have broad smiles on their faces.
‘She loves the attention from our guests. We feel blessed to have her and to be here living the dream. Sam and Anna have done a grand job of getting your gîte ready too, Lizzie.’ Dad’s voice is full of pride.
‘I’m glad we’re going to meet Sam. He sounds like a great guy. A chef and a builder, eh?’
Lizzie turns to give me a rather meaningful stare and I roll my eyes.
‘Don’t start.’
She laughs and follows me inside, impatient to explore. I can only hope that Sam is up to socialising and is prepared to join in when he arrives. It’s going to be a long evening if he’s quiet and withdrawn.
Shaking off my concerns I help ferry the luggage out to the gîte. We all saunter back to the car to see what’s left. Unexpectedly, a motorbike pulls into the parking area, sending Ziggy skittering off in the direction of the rear garden. Assuming it’s someone looking for accommodation, Dad steps forward but as the motorcyclist dismounts and walks towards us he pulls off his helmet. No one is more surprised than I am to see that it’s Sam.
‘Hi Sam, great bike you have there!’ Dad walks over to take a good look and Daniel is close behind him.
Sam smiles in our direction and I step forward. ‘This is Daniel and this is Lizzie. Sam, I didn’t know you owned a motorbike.’ I can’t keep a tone of sheer surprise out of my voice as I watch them all shaking hands.
The bike looks pristine, presumably because he rarely uses it, which means it’s an asset he could sell to help fund his project. For someone who admits funds are tight, I’m rather surprised by this discovery. Daniel is crouched down next to it getting a closer look at the engine.
‘Wow! You don’t see many Triumph Bonneville T100’s about.’
Sam nods in agreement.
‘A 2004 Custom Café Racer. She’s sweet to ride. It belonged to my granddad but he only rode her for a year. He was just fifty-five when he died quite suddenly following a massive heart attack. I spent most weekends with him, polishing her up and he even convinced Grandma to let me hop on the back a few times for a run out. It was his life-long dream. Neither of my brothers ever showed any interest in the bike but it was his pride and joy. He left it to me in his will, much to the annoyance of Grandma and my mum. I was fifteen at the time and it stayed in his garage until I was old enough to ride it myself. I called in most weekends to give her a buff up, check for oil leaks and start the engine to keep everything working.’
Ah, that at least makes some sense, I suppose.
Mum and I move closer. It is a great looking bike if you are into that sort of thing.
‘The electric blue works great with the black. And I see you have vintage style tyres. Nice bike, mate. I have a Ducati 999R but it’s going soon; the wedding fund needs a boost.’
Sam and Daniel exchange a look of commiseration.
‘I rarely ride these days, but Granddad loved this bike, so I take her out for a spin every now and again just to keep everything in working order.’
Well, any concerns I had about Sam and Daniel getting on were obviously unfounded.
Mum and Dad go to get ready for their evening out and Lizzie and I stop by the kitchen to make a coffee and go and sit in the garden. We leave the two guys to talk power and torque: whatever that means.
‘I feel bad that Daniel has to sell his bike but to be honest, Anna, I worry every time he takes it out for a spin. It’s a fast bike, built for speed and even though I rarely go on it, I’m never happy sitting behind him. I spend most of the time with my eyes closed just praying we don’t crash.’
As we settle ourselves down in the secret garden, I nod in agreement.
‘I can understand that. I’ve never been on a motorbike, so I can’t even imagine what it feels like. So, you guys are saving for the big day, then?’
‘Yes. We’ve decided to go for it and make it as special as we can. I only intend getting married the once.’ She smiles and I can see how happy she is to have found her soul mate.
I sip my coffee, wondering what that must feel like. I realise that ever since my teenage years I’ve had a sort of fear of being alone in life. As if I need someone to make me feel whole and without that, something is missing. Is it because Mum and Dad are always so close and loving together, that being a part of a team is my definition of normality? I’m a strong person and I don’t need to rely upon anyone else, so why do I feel this sense of emptiness?
‘Problems?’
Lizzie is looking at me with a puzzled expression on her face.
‘No. Just envious.’
‘Your day will come. It needs to be the right guy, though. It’s a pity about Karl. Have you heard anything more?’
I know I look and sound jaded as I speak. ‘There are big changes going on in the office and while Karl didn’t admit the engagement wasn’t real, it’s no longer on his Facebook timeline. I emailed Pat and she told me that he did say the party was on hold, but that was about it. Unless he gets in touch I’ve decided to put it all behind me.’
‘Ooh, is this because of Sam? You didn’t say how handsome and fit he was.’
She’s smiling at me cheekily over her coffee mug.
‘Hey, stop match-making. We’re friends but we already drive each other mad.’
‘They do say opposites attract,’ she muses.
‘Get to know him a little and then we can have this conversation again. However, I do have someone rather interesting to show you, as I now have some more information about the guy I told you about.’
I take my iPad from the table and call up Tom’s blog.
‘Now this is a man who lives life to the full. Have a read.’
While Lizzie clicks away, looking at photos and reading a couple of Tom’s latest diary entries, she can’t stifle the “oohs” and “ahhs”. Some of the photos literally melt your heart when you see sick animals restored to full health and then released back into the wild.
‘He’s quite a guy, all right. And you’re showing me this because… you’re stalking him on the internet now? You want to declare your love and hope he’ll whisk you off to the jungle to see the really big cats?’
She’s joking with me, of course; I start giggling and she joins in.
‘Meet Thomas Parker-Laurent, or Tom Laurent, as he’s now known. He’s the one who lived here for a while with his aunt and uncle as a young boy.’
> Lizzie’s surprise turns to amazement as I tell her the whole story of the jewellery box and the trail that led me to discover Tom’s whereabouts. I don’t mention Cannes, or Sam, but say I intend to hand it back to him.
‘You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to track him down. Couldn’t you just send the box by recorded delivery?’
‘And risk something irreplaceable going missing? That’s rather heartless of you, Lizzie.’
I try to sound aghast at her suggestion but I can tell she’s questioning my motives.
‘You want to place it in his hands yourself and have him thank you personally. As he gazes into your eyes you’ll see fireworks and in no time at all you will both be jetting off to an exotic island to save monkeys, or whatever.’
Once more she has me laughing out loud.
‘One step at a time, please. Okay, so on paper he looks like my sort of guy. Interesting, ready to seize every opportunity that comes his way and motivated by the passion in his life. But all I’m doing is returning something that I believe means a lot to him.’
Lizzie stares at me.
‘There’s more, I can sense it.’
I shrug my shoulders.
‘You know I’m starting up my own business ready for when I return to the UK? Mainly branding and setting up websites, that sort of thing.’ Lizzie nods and I continue, wondering what she’ll think. ‘Well… I’ve offered to overhaul his blog and re-brand his practice website for free. A lot of the work he does is charitable, aside from his voluntary work. Of course, I’m making the offer to several businesses as I need before and after examples to showcase my work.’
She sits back in her chair, wide-eyed with disbelief.
‘He looks like a well-intentioned guy and a real catch, but aren’t you getting a little too involved in this? Returning a valuable item to its owner is one thing, but offering him your services for free before you’ve even met him… what if he’s weird, or something?’