Escape to the French Riviera

Chapter Eleven

Gianni agrees that I can stay, but I decide not to tell Poppy and Jasmine that I am here for a while longer until it is too late to change my mind. I am glad I haven’t said anything yet, as when Soraya and Carol leave for the airport, I begin to get cold feet.

‘Would I have time to quickly pack up and come with you?’ I beg.

‘No. It’s for your own good. We know you’ll come back home with that best-seller worked out. Now, make the most of this lovely apartment and enjoy yourself. It’s only for two weeks, and you’ll soon be home and complaining about the rain again,’ says Soraya.

‘Yeah, very true. You’re amazing. Thank you for arranging such an opportunity for me.’

‘You deserve it after everything you’ve gone through with Michael. Oh, and before I leave…’ Soraya hands me her turquoise kaftan that I have always loved so much.

‘Here. I know there’s a washing machine, but you might need some extra clothes. Take this, it might come in handy.’

I look at the delicate beads and the silver sequins that embellish the neckline.

‘I can’t take this. It’s far too beautiful. You know it’s my favourite on you.’

‘You can. Please. I won’t be needing it in Swansea. Have you seen the weather forecast next week?’

‘You are just too kind. I promise to look after it.’

I hug Soraya and Carol goodbye and then wave as I watch their taxi drive away. As soon as I close the door, the apartment feels bigger than ever. Here by myself, I seem to be rattling around. Although, it doesn’t stop me moving my things into the master bedroom. I couldn’t resist the four-poster bed with the white lace curtains.

Eventually, I decide I am ready to give Poppy and Jasmine a call to explain about my extended holiday. I know they will already be up, as they have lectures on a Monday morning, and so I ring our group chat.

‘Are you on your way back, Mam?’ asks Poppy.

Jasmine talks over her as she tells me to grab perfume and some make-up in duty-free for her.

‘Woah, woah. Right…’ I have to take a big gulp. I can’t believe I am so apprehensive about telling my own kids I am staying on.

‘The thing is… You know how I have this book I want to write. Well, I’ve decided to stay on in Monaco for some ideas for it and…’

‘Are you serious? How long you staying on for?’

‘Just a couple of weeks. There’s this guy who sails a yacht, and he’s offered to take me out on it. So, you know, that should give me plenty of material to think about for the book…’

‘You’ve met a guy who sails a yacht. He’s not a drug dealer or some kind of scammer, is he?’ says Jasmine.

‘Don’t be silly, he’s from Manchester. He’s a decent sort of chap.’

‘Oh. My. God. Mam’s met a scammer from Manchester and she’s going off on a boat with him. I’m calling the police,’ says Poppy dramatically.

‘Calm down. Don’t be so silly.’

‘Well, how did you meet him?’

‘He kindly gave me some money, actually.’

‘What? He gave you money? Bingo. There you go then. He’s a fraudster, obvs. Nobody gives someone money when they first meet.’

‘It was a few euros!’

‘Exactly, you see. These guys, they know what they’re doing. He pays you a couple of euros, he gets a hundred thousand out of you.’

‘Come on, Jasmine. Where on earth do you think I’d find money like that to give anyone?’

‘It’s on TV all the time, Mam. They get ways around you, and the next thing you know, you’re remortgaging your house. No wonder he’s sailing around Monaco in a yacht. What poor woman paid for that? Some child’s mother will have been scammed because of that little shit. Heartbreaking.’

‘Oi, mind your language. He’s not a little shit. He’s a lovely kind chap from Manchester, and I’m sure there’s been no scamming anyone’s mam.’

‘Are you for real? I’m telling Dad, and if necessary, he’ll come out there and drag you back and bring you to your senses.’

‘I don’t want your dad knowing anything about this. It’s none of his business.’

‘Well, I’m telling him. We have to protect you,’ says Poppy.

‘Do not tell your father. It’s nothing to do with him or anyone else.’

‘Yes, it is if you’re about to be scammed and he could do anything to you if you don’t give him what he wants. Oh my god, Mam, what have you got yourself into?’ says Jasmine.

‘He’s done nothing wrong. Don’t be so dramatic. Have you been watching those Netflix shows again?’

‘This is how it starts, Mam. I’m telling you now. This is only the beginning. He’ll have your flat in the marina next. You’ll be waving goodbye to it as he takes everything,’ says Jasmine.

‘Oh, you are a silly billy. He’s not after any money. He’s got a decent job. He works for rich people and…’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. Heard it all before. Scammer material right there,’ says Jasmine.

‘Oh, there’s no talking to you two when you’re like this. Let’s just agree to disagree.’

‘This is deffo how they start. Loan you a bit of money and then take ten times that from you… Only the other day I was watching this story, right? And this woman met a man she thought was a high-ranking general in the US army and then…’

‘Look, I’m not stupid. I know all those stories. Besides, those types of scammers don’t even exist in real life. Those are someone hiding behind a screen. I’ve met this chap in real life. Believe me, I promise… It’s nothing like that. I’m sorry I told you now.’

‘No, I’m glad you did tell us. We need to know these things so we can protect you. She’s getting older now, isn’t she, Poppy? She might get some kind of dementia and sign everything over to him next,’ says Jasmine.

‘Will you two stop!’

My menopausal rage starts to rise up again with the two of them. Oh, they know how to push my buttons.

‘Well, it’s only the truth, Mam,’ says Poppy.

‘Right, that’s it. I’m going now because I’m off on the yacht. I’ll message you both later.’

‘What? You’re not serious,’ says Jasmine.

‘Yes, very serious. Bye girls, speak later.’

The truth is that Elias hasn’t even messaged me yet, so there are no firm arrangements, but they provoked me so much I didn’t want to tell them that.

I put the phone down and search in the fridge for the nice bits I picked up in the supermarket. I start off with Soraya’s suggestion of a fresh orange juice and a huge croissant that I warm under the grill.

Out on the balcony, as the sun shines down on me, I tell myself that everything will be fine. At least I don’t have to put up with the dramatic moments from the girls when I am away. I’ll keep my contact with them to a minimum for a few days. This is me time. I am going to have an inspirational holiday, and I am finally going to get some words down on that blank page of mine.

I watch the people down below who look like ants walking about the marina. I wonder where they are all going. Are they all just millionaires from birth, or do any of them work hard to scrape by?

I have just pulled out my trusty notebook to start work when my phone bleeps.

My heart misses a beat as I realise it’s Elias asking if he can collect me at eleven a.m. to take me to the yacht. His offer comes as a welcome distraction to plotting ideas. So, I rush off to wash my hair, even though it will no doubt be wrecked by the sea breeze. I must try around three different shades of lipstick before I am finally ready to meet Elias, even though I tell myself this is a research trip and it really doesn’t matter what I look like. Still, I twiddle my long, mousy hair around until I have the perfect curls that peep out from under my borrowed panama hat, which will hopefully protect my hair from frizzing up in the breeze.

‘That’ll do,’ I say to my reflection in the huge floor-to-ceiling mirror of the master bedroom.

When I hear the beep of a horn outside, I jump and try to calm my breathing as I open the door to see Elias’s little Fiat.

‘Good morning, Lucy,’ says Elias as I jump into the passenger seat.

‘Morning.’ I smile at Elias as he gives me one of his charming broody looks that make him so handsome in a craggy, masculine sort of way.

‘Music?’ he asks.

‘Yes, please. Whatever.’ It feels awkward without Soraya and Carol. It was much less intimidating when there was a gang of us, and I could rely on Carol to come out with something if there was ever a moment of silence.

‘How about a bit of Oasis? Good old Manchester band.’

‘Yes, that’d be fabulous.’

To the sound of Wonderwall , we drive down the now-familiar hill and weave through the streets of Monaco as we head back towards the marina where Lady Jane is docked.

‘So, what did you do in Manchester anyway? Not many yachts there?’ I ask as we get stuck at some traffic lights.

Elias laughs and asks me to guess.

‘Oh no. I hate things like this. I’ve no idea.’

‘I’ll give you three guesses and then I’ll tell you,’ he smiles.

I look at his hands on the steering wheel, which indicate he has possibly done some kind of manual work.

‘A plumber.’

‘Haha. No, but being a plumber does involve water and I suppose you could say my previous job did too.’

‘Well, I was going to say an electrician next, but that wouldn’t involve water.’

‘Is that your second guess?’

‘No. Let me try again. Umm, a lifeguard.’

Although, somehow, I can’t imagine him strutting up and down at the local swimming baths in his Speedos, but you never know.

‘No, I can see why you’d think that. I am a good swimmer, though. You have one last guess.’

‘Oh gosh, I really have no clue now, so I’m just going to say you built swimming pools for rich people.’

‘Ha. Now, I wouldn’t have minded doing something like that. I’m quite good with my hands. I’d imagine laying all those mosaic pieces could be therapeutic if you’re patient enough. But no. Do you give up?’

‘Yup. No idea.’

‘Okay, but did I mention there was a booby prize if you didn’t guess?’

‘Yikes. No.’

Elias laughs. ‘You can have another guess if you like. Otherwise, the booby prize might involve me inviting you out for dinner.’

I don’t tell him how nice that sounds.

‘Oh no, well, that sounds terrible. I definitely need another guess in that case.’ We both laugh as we tease each other, and I try to think of any other occupation I can.

‘You were a dentist.’

‘Did you get that completely wrong so you win the booby prize?’

I feel a tingle all over as I look at him.

‘Hmm, maybe.’

We both have big grins.

‘So, it looks like I’m taking you for dinner then.’

‘Well, if you must.’

I sit back in my seat and think about how nice dinner will be with him. Maybe I’ll wear Soraya’s kaftan.

‘Umm, anyway, so what was it that you did in Manchester?’

‘I was a window cleaner. See, that’s why I said about the water. Went through tons of it.’

‘Oh, wow. That one hadn’t crossed my mind. No wonder the windows are sparkling on the yacht.’

‘Oh, yeah. Don’t get me started on the best way to get your windows sparkling. My dad was a window cleaner before me, and then I took over from him. Family business since 1963.’

‘But now you’re a yacht skipper. What about the family business?’

‘It’s a long story… One I’ll tell you another time.’

Elias pulls the car into the marina car park and pulls up the handbrake. He looks quite serious.

‘Yeah. I will tell you… Maybe one day, if the time is right.’

‘Sure.’ The Mysterious Mancunian of Manchester has just become a whole lot more mysterious. Jasmine and Poppy’s words spring into my head. This is how it starts, Mam. I’m telling you now. This is only the beginning. I try to ignore their little voices as I spot Lady Jane .

‘Anyway, here we are . Lady Jane awaits.’

We walk to the yacht, and Elias leads me onto the bridge. He does some safety checks, running around the boat like a headless chicken while I sit on the seat beside the captain’s chair. It is like I am second in command, and I momentarily feel a sense of importance until Elias returns to start up the engines.

The engines roar with power, and once again, the water bubbles beneath us. The rope tied to the marina has been hauled in, and we are off.

‘I’ll be a bit busy for a few minutes, just while I steer us out of here. But we can sit back a bit once we hit the open sea, okay?’

‘Yes, of course. I’ll sit here quietly and try not to distract you.’

I feel like a queen as I sit on the yacht as people watch us leave our mooring. For a moment, I am Lady Jane, and for once, I experience what it must be like to have such luxury at your fingertips. I just wish my clothes were a bit fancier and I wasn’t wearing an old jumpsuit I bought in Swansea market. How the other half live. Despite my fashion crisis, I think I am beginning to feel inspired. I go to grab my notebook from my bag to make some notes as we set sail, and I notice that I have a message on my phone.

A message from Michael flashes up in large print on the screen.

The girls just told me you’re going on a boat trip with some scammer.

What the hell is wrong with you? You have no idea who he is. Get off

that boat now. Anything could happen to you!!!

How dare he tell me what to do. He is allowed to go on any midlife crisis he wants and even change his name to make himself sound younger. But god forbid I go sailing with a very pleasant skipper. Why is it that my family all think I don’t deserve my own happy life? So selfish, the lot of them.

I roll my eyes under my oversized sunglasses. Oh, Michael, I’m going to have words with you when I get back. Very strong ones.

‘Everything alright?’ asks Elias.

Instinctively, I touch his arm.

‘Oh, yes, fine. Hopefully, we won’t have phone reception where we’re going.’ I try to smile and swiftly switch my phone off, throwing it back into my bag.

But as I head further out into the open sea, completely alone with Elias, as much as a part of me is delighted and enjoying every moment, I realise that we are heading into choppy waters. The truth is that Jasmine, Poppy and Michael are right: I don’t know the slightest thing about Elias. He could be anyone, but the problem is I am starting to enjoy his company. I am just going to have to go with my instinct on this one.