by Lucy Coleman
I think his guilt is so ingrained now that he can’t even admit that to himself. What a mess! What a waste! Harry’s attitude was sadly predictable. He blames himself because he knew Isla was popping pills occasionally and he blames Sam for being too drunk to take proper care of her.
No one seems to lay any blame at Isla’s door and I know how harsh and maybe cruel, that sounds. But she was the one who swallowed the pills and we each need to take responsibility for the results of our actions. I know that death isn’t a consequence that would cross anyone’s mind – who stops to consider the worst case scenario? The coroner pronounced it an accidental overdose, but a verdict doesn’t alter how people feel about the part they did, or didn’t, play.
I’m too upset, jaded and confused to think about what all this means for Sam, let alone the impact of this trip on our friendship.
I do the only thing I know that will help blot out my thoughts and I slide Adele into the CD player. She’s my friend in times of need and sometimes you just need to have a damn good cry.
The road is quiet; it’s early on a Wednesday morning and the sadness in her voice seems to pull the sadness out of me. As the tears flow and my voice grows louder, it’s like I’m expelling the stress and what has, overnight, turned into anger. I’m angry for the stupid actions of a young girl who didn’t understand the risk she was taking. Angry, too, for the way her brother and Sam are now forced to carry a burden that is hard to shed and impossible to ignore.
By the time I hit Aix-en-Provence, two thirds of the journey is done and it’s time to leave the A7. With just over a hundred kilometres to go, the satnav is saying I will get there about twenty minutes before my scheduled time of 10 a.m.
I eject Adele, thanking her for helping me through a difficult two hours. I pull over, idly throwing CD after CD out of my bag and into the passenger side foot well.
At last. I slide the disc into the slot and ram the car into first gear to the strains of the late, great and irreplaceable, David Bowie.
I sing my heart out, and still manage to shed a few tears at the loss of a man whose voice seems to touch my soul as profoundly as Adele but in different ways. But ultimately, you can’t blast out the words to ‘Heroes’ without having a huge smile on your face and a warm feeling in your heart. Show me one woman who doesn’t secretly want her man to demonstrate at some point that he is her real life hero. But women can be heroes too, and I hope someday to feel that sense of strength and determination that will allow me to be strong when someone else is in need.
An hour? It flies by and Sam is right. When the world becomes too much all you need to do is turn up the volume and drown out your thoughts.
*
‘Anna, it’s so good to finally meet you in person. How was your journey?’
Tom is nothing like the recent photos on his blog. He had a full head of hair, which was usually tied back. Now his head is shaved. Instead of cut-off cargo pants, he’s wearing a tidy pair of jeans and a denim shirt which looks rather sober for him.
‘Oh, the hair. It was unbearably hot so I shaved it all off last week. It’s just more practical although annoyingly it does require a little daily maintenance. It grows like weeds, anyway. That’s enough about me. It’s rare that someone impresses me in the way you have. For a start, you tracked me down and I pride myself on being a modern day nomad.’
He laughs and we’re still shaking hands, what, ten seconds on? He releases mine from his grip.
‘I’m waffling. I’m like this when I return from a long spell away. It’s just nice to be here where everything is so easy. We don’t realise how good we have it. Running water, a cold shower when you’re hot. It’s always the basics that give the most creature comfort.’
He won’t stop talking, but I love it. It’s so refreshing. I dive into my bag before taking the seat he offers and I slip the box out of its cover to place it in front of him on the desk.
‘My mother’s jewellery box.’ He sits, suddenly unable to speak and stares at it for a while before reaching forward to slip off the lid. The very one that Sam carefully sanded to make it a perfect fit.
Tom empties the contents out onto the leather top of the desk.
‘I remember her wearing this,’ he says, holding up the ring and twisting it against the light. Then he picks up the locket. ‘This was my grandmother’s, God rest her soul.’
He’s a man of many beliefs, then.
‘How can I possibly thank you? As if you haven’t done enough already, you’ve offered to give my website a much needed facelift.’
I laugh, not expecting him to be so witty and charming. I expected someone much more serious and maybe even a little angry about his childhood.
‘You made a big impression on the people of St-Julien. Goodness, everyone wanted to be remembered to you. Honorine, of course, as I think she secretly regarded you as her adopted son. Monsieur and Madam Deniaud – oh, and Elise Moreau, who now lives in Rennes.’
Tom looks overawed.
‘You’re like a walking history book. Now please tell me that Inès Gaubert is still keeping her husband, Claude, in line. He’s a great baker and the village is lucky to have him. The fact that he’d rather get out his fishing rod and sidle off to the lake was a constant irritation to her.’
Again, I’m laughing and he’s laughing too.
‘I met them at a little gathering and I loved the way they banter with each other. He seems a very serious type of man to me, but I think everyone is a little scared of Inès.’
‘Tea, coffee? You deserve champagne, but it’s all I have.’
He buzzes an intercom.
‘Coffee would be lovely, thank you. White, no sugar.’
‘Carol, my darling, I’m sorry to interrupt as I know how busy you are and how annoying I can be, but could we possibly have two coffees?’
‘Sorry boss, I’m just off on an emergency dash to bring in a kitten who has been hit by a car.’ Carol’s accent indicates she’s probably a Londoner and she dismisses Tom’s request without hesitation.
Tom’s face changes in an instant. ‘Drop everything and go, lovely lady. I’ll cover.’
He turns to face me. He really is a very charming man and quite the gentleman.
‘Sorry, Anna. Walk this way, I need to look after the reception desk for a while.’
He doesn’t stop. While he answers phones and books in clients, I’m dispatched to the kitchen to make the coffee. When I return he’s just replacing the handset on the receiver.
‘There’s always a flurry of activity when Carol’s not here. I’m sure she organises it to remind me how hard she works. I think I have everything under control, so shall we jump on her PC while we’re waiting for her to come back?’
He manoeuvres a chair in my direction and I settle myself down.
I type in the URL and log in to the dashboard.
‘Right. This is how your website will look with the new styling. Let’s swap seats and you can scroll through the pages and posts. The navigation is now a lot simpler. You have the basic veterinary information on clickable tabs at the top, just here. On the right hand side the first link is to your blog, which is now a part of this website; I’ll show you how to access that in a moment. Then you have links to the charitable organisations you support and when people click through there’s also a pop-up donation option. Anyway, I’ll leave you to have a little look around while I drink my coffee.’
I stand back and carry my mug over to the window of the waiting room, so I’m not tempted to look over Tom’s shoulder. All of this is a surprise, actually. This is just like any other vet’s practice I’ve been in over the years. Obviously, they are well used to functioning without him here and his attitude seems to be that he doesn’t want to get in their way.
‘All of this was your idea? Or do you work with a team, or something?’ Tom enquires, sounding genuinely interested.
I walk back, facing him across the counter, coffee mug in hand.
‘It’s just
me, for now, but I hope at some point to develop the business and bring a couple of people on board.’ Well, that’s the long term plan, anyway.
‘What was the attraction for turning your back on a well paid job and going it alone? It’s a risky venture these days.’
‘That’s rather a long and boring story.’
With that, Carol rushes through the doors carrying a mewing kitten in her arms, nestled in a very large blanket. Tom jumps up and before I know it, I’m the temporary receptionist.
A Real Life Adventurer
As I sit opposite Tom in a very rustic, but charmingly traditional, roadside restaurant, I can’t help thinking of David Bowie singing ‘Heroes’. For Tom is a genuine hero; from the animals he saves, to the people he employs, whom he treats like family, and to whom he entrusts his business interests. But it’s not solely about making money and that doesn’t seem to be a motivator for him.
‘Anything we make, over and above the cost of the overheads and salaries, is ploughed back into setting up another practice. My staff run the show at each location and I pay them well because they are all people who go that extra mile. Besides, they have a boss who is rarely around and they are the ones who make it all happen. I swan off to foreign places because basically I’m a big kid who has never grown up. My inspiration was always Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark. That film got me through a lot of difficult times.’
He eats with gusto and the portion sizes are probably suited to the lorry drivers who seem to make up the bulk of the patrons sitting around us today.
Even the bottle of red wine is free and is a part of the prix fixe lunch menu. What it lacks in presentation, though, it makes up for in taste and the pâté starter is delicious.
‘Ask me anything you like. I can see you have questions, probably stemming from the research you did to track me down. That jewellery box means a lot to me and when it disappeared I really believed my aunt had burnt it on a bonfire in the garden. She was an angry woman, who felt life owed her more than to be the paid nanny to her sister’s son. She told me that’s what she would do if I misbehaved.’
I swallow hard. You don’t do something like that to a young boy who has lost his mother.
‘I’m sorry to hear that. It’s an awful threat to make.’
He looks up, seemingly unable to understand my tone.
‘I was a handful. I missed my mum, obviously, but I still had her values and her love of nature. And animals, of course. I made Aunt Yvette run screaming from the house on lots of occasions, as she hated mice and spiders, in particular.’
He grins, then finishes off his pâté, letting out a satisfied ‘mmm’.
‘I haven’t had pâté in over a year and that was good. French lorry drivers know the best places to eat. You might not get an extensive menu, but you know that the person in charge of the kitchen is likely to have learnt from watching their own mother, probably even before they learnt to talk.’
He pours two glasses of water and leans in close.
‘The wine is rustic with a capital R.’
I’m driving anyway, so I take Tom’s lead and stick to the water.
We chat about the people in St-Julien he grew close to and the fact that animals replaced the affection he didn’t get from his aunt and uncle. He seems unfazed when I ask him about his father and simply says that he understood that he’d done what he felt was best for Tom at the time.
‘I remind him of my mother and that was tough, still is. I was with him in London on Monday as I’m one of the directors of Joie de Vivre International. I don’t really do much, but it keeps him happy to think I care about his business. We get on well, but we’ve never been exceptionally close. I didn’t blame him for that, as my mother’s wish was that I had the sort of childhood she’d enjoyed. I’m sure she thought with one of her best friends as my teacher and her sister to look after me, I was in safe hands. I was, but Aunt Yvette was disappointed with her life as she set out with grand aspirations. Uncle Tony wasn’t like that at all. He was a carpenter by trade and made wonderful pieces of furniture, things that became family heirlooms. My father accepts the way I choose to live my life and I respect him for that. Besides, what do I know about jewellery and perfume? It’s not for me and he knows it. I have no idea what will happen when he decides to retire. I set up a foundation with the money I inherited on my twenty-first birthday from my mother’s will. It helps fund trainee vets to do a stint abroad. I think it adds to their education and they learn quite a bit. Not least, how easy we have it over here.’
The patron speaks no English at all, but he obviously knows Tom well and they converse easily. We hand him our empty plates and he brings the main course.
‘What is it?’ I ask, savouring the smell of some sort of meat in a rich looking sauce.
‘Today it’s venison. Often, it’s wild boar, or pheasant – whatever happens to be around when the hunters are up and about in the morning.’
Well, it’s nice to know it’s fresh.
‘Anyway, Anna. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to track me down and travelled a long way to get here. I owe you not only a reward for finding the jewellery box, but also for your time and petrol and your amazing branding skills.’
I feel embarrassed hearing Tom say that as I’m beginning to feel like a stalker. Given recent events with Karl, it’s not a term I care to be associated with. Watching him, though, he is very attractive and a large part of that is down to his personality. But to my surprise I’m not attracted to him in the way that I’m attracted to Sam. I realise Tom is staring at me, waiting for a reply.
‘Let’s just say tracking you down and working on your website saw me through a difficult period. If I can feature before and after shots of your blog and website in my portfolio for my new business, that’s payment enough. Believe me, as before and after case studies go, they don’t get any better!’
Oh. That sounds rude but Tom laughs.
‘It still feels wrong. Okay, instead I will make a donation in your name – what’s your favourite endangered animal?’
‘That’s easy. Bengal tigers. I have a Bengal cat named Ziggy, she was one of a litter of three and we bonded immediately. She’s quite a character and a very good judge of people.’
‘Felines have their own type of intuition about humans and they can tell if you are a true cat lover. They seem to instinctively know how to play the cute card when there’s someone around they want to know better. I have no doubt Ziggy picked you for a reason and maybe that was because you, too, are a good judge of character.’
I nod, point taken. We eat in silence for a while and it’s comfortable, rather than awkward.
Over dessert, which is some sort of profiterole filled with fresh strawberries and a light, vanilla cream, Tom tells me a little more about his childhood antics. He’s right, he was a handful. He mentions Honorine and I realise that he has a great regard for her.
‘She isn’t getting any younger and when you are around next she’d be thrilled to have a visit. You could even stay at Le Manoir d’Orsenne; my parents would love to meet you.’
He frowns. ‘I’m so busy dashing here and there I forget that life is whizzing by and I’m grateful to you for reminding me of that fact. Honorine was kind and caring; the fact that she had no children of her own was something that made her very sad at times. I came bounding into her life because she welcomed me in and I was often glad to get away from Aunt Yvette. I will go back to see her and I understand what you’re saying.’
‘I’m so glad our paths crossed, Tom. How long are you back for?’
He looks abashed. ‘Don’t tell the staff, but I’m off again next week. I have a friend at one of the institutes I volunteer at in Borneo. Chelsea is working on an award winning orangutan project at the Matang Wildlife Centre. Maybe one day I might want to put down some roots and just maybe Chelsea will be at that stage at the same time, who knows?’
‘I’m glad your difficult childhood didn’t leave any long lasting
emotional scars. You touched a lot of people’s hearts and they were the richer for it. Everyone needs somebody in their lives, even if every moment of every day is filled. It must be so satisfying to be a volunteer and know that you are helping to save an endangered species.’
‘Well, if you ever want to get involved just get in touch. We need everything from admin people through to veterinary surgeons. The path I’ve travelled brought me here, to this point in my life. I’m the person I’m supposed to be, a nomad who only needs a sleeping bag, a tent and a bottle of water to fall asleep with a smile on my face. If I’d had a normal life I’d probably be working for my father, having to spend my life juggling figures on a computer.
‘Instead, I get to experience the wonders of the plains and the forests. Often, I can help bring sick animals back to good health. Sometimes it’s about helping an animal to take its final breath when its injuries are fatal. Or training people up so the good work can be continued. It’s a blessing, either way, and a constant adventure. I wouldn’t change a thing.’
Tom walks me to the car.
‘Drive safely, Anna. Sometimes when we feel a little lost for direction it’s wise to take a while and think things through. Listen to your inner self and when you hear its voice you know you are being true to yourself. Don’t try to start common-sensing it, or applying logic – just act upon it.’
He stoops down to give me a hug and I laugh, as I wasn’t expecting that.
‘As for the donation – I’ll make it a generous one and I’ll send you a link to their website.’
*
On the first leg of the journey back to Cannes I think long and hard about some of the things Tom said. He made a lot of sense and he is a remarkable man. Coincidentally, I’d sort of reached the same conclusion, that I need to take some time to discover the inner me anyway. The timing isn’t good, of course, given the events of the last couple of days. But I’m no good to Sam until I know where I’m heading. Tom is a lovely man and his blog definitely piqued my interest, but when we met all I felt was a deep respect for him. That was a bit of a surprise. There was a sexiness to his passion for his work and I wondered if I’d feel a bit of a deeper connection to him. All it did was make me realise how much I fancy Sam and that’s not helpful at this point.