Escape to the French Riviera

Chapter Sixteen

When I wake up on deck, the first thing I notice is the blanket draped over me. It takes me a minute to remember what happened last night. Elias! Did that really occur, or was it the best dream ever? As I focus on my surroundings, I realise that it was most definitely not some kind of fabulous dream, as Elias stands above me with a coffee in his hand and a beaming smile on his face.

I feel my hair sticking up and pat it down quickly. Was I sleeping with my mouth open as I often do? The girls took a terribly unflattering photo of me on a train once when I had dozed off, and I swore I would never sleep in public again. I hope I didn’t look like that when Elias put a blanket over me at some point in the early hours.

‘Good morning, beautiful,’ he says.

I am relieved by the positive adjective; surely he wouldn’t have said that had my mouth been open all night?

‘Good morning, gorgeous,’ I reply. I hope that didn’t sound too cheesy. It was all so much easier when I was drinking wine. Now in the light of day, I am feeling a lot more nervous around him, especially since everything has changed.

‘Here, just as you like it. Milk, no sugar,’ says Elias, handing me the mug.

‘You even know how I take my coffee. A man who listens and remembers things. I like it.’

‘You’d be surprised what you learn when you actually sit back and listen to people, instead of doing all the talking.’

‘Yeah. I guess I talk a lot. I should try listening a bit more.’

‘I suppose it comes from cleaning windows; I’m quite observant. You notice the curtains that never open, the warring couple who you can hear while you clean the windows, and you just know it isn’t going to last.’

‘Hmm… Does that mean you’re nosy?’

Elias laughs. ‘No. Definitely not nosy. Just observant.’

As he smiles, I feel the urge to stroke his cheek. He takes my hand and kisses it.

‘Right, mademoiselle, fancy some fresh juice? From your favourite supermarket.’

‘Wow, you really are observant! This is like a five-star hotel.’

‘I aim to give good service,’ he winks.

‘Well, if you were on Tripadvisor, you’d be getting a rave review. Good food, superb facilities, excellent ambience.’

Elias puts his hand on my leg.

‘Hmm, go on…’

‘And very attentive service,’ I say cheekily.

‘Is that so? I can get more attentive.’

‘Oh, can you now? In that case, who needs refreshments?’

I put my glass down as Elias leads me downstairs to his cabin and we make love on the opulent round cabin bed. I trace my hand all the way along the scar that leads down his chest, but I decide not to ask him about it. I noticed it when we went swimming, too, but now I can see it close up in the morning light. I figure if he wants to tell me about it, then he will.

We snuggle on the bed for over an hour. I smile to myself as I think of the contrast between Elias and Michael. If we ever made love, he’d be back up after five minutes checking his phone. With Elias, everything is so much more passionate and tender. We lie for ages looking at the sunshine through the skylight in the bedroom. Finally, he suggests we should get back to breakfast and begin our day of sailing. I try to stop myself from grinning. I can’t remember ever feeling so free, or as thrilled, as when I look at Elias in front of me.

When he leaves me to go to the upper deck, I get myself together for breakfast once again and check my phone.

There are ten frantic messages waiting for me.

Three from Jasmine, four from Poppy, and three from Michael. They all indicate the same thing. They think I have been kidnapped, scammed or thrown overboard and demand I reply immediately.

I start typing a message to Poppy first since she has sent the most messages.

I’m absolutely fine. Having the time of my life, actually. I’m off to

Antibes, Saint-Tropez and Cannes probably. Not quite sure where exactly,

but I’ll keep you updated when I can.

Then I copy and paste it to Jasmine and send a photo of the yacht to Michael with no words. That will shut him up. He has always loved yachts and fast cars. I have only just pressed send when he starts typing.

What are you sending me this photo for when the girls are worried

sick about you? Do you know how much they’re panicking that something

will happen to you? Do you care how your poor daughters even feel? Have

some consideration.

Did he have consideration when he went off on hot dates during our marriage? I don’t think so. He winds me up so much that I find an emoji of the middle finger and consider sending it. However, I decide that I am not going to send that to my girls’ dad, much as I would love to at this moment in time. I tell myself I am better than that.

Instead, I remind him that I am a grown woman, and we are now divorced. I have reassured the girls that I am completely fine and that if I want to go off with a skipper exploring the French Riviera then I shall. Although, as I type it, I can hardly believe what I am saying. I think back to all those days I sobbed my heart out and could hardly get out of bed, when I was utterly devastated that the man I had trusted had been having an affair whilst I looked after everyone else’s needs, including his.

‘You ready to set sail?’ says Elias, interrupting my memories of a terrible time in my life.

‘Absolutely.’

‘Brilliant. I’ve managed to secure us a berth at a gorgeous port.’

‘Sounds exciting. Ahoy, shipmate!’ As I say it, I remember that I am not very well-versed with this terminology, and it’s probably best I stay quiet.

I join Elias on the bridge and watch as he organises everything to sail away. I would end up overboard if I tried to lean over the way he does. I really can’t imagine it is doing his knee too much good either, having to do all these manual tasks to get the boat out of the marina. He seems to be in his element, though.

As we sail away, we slowly pass yachts heading into the port, no doubt eager to take up our mooring. Even since the past day or so, it seems to be getting busier here.

The views of Monaco Old Town and the Rock of Monaco become a blur as we sail further out and head towards Port de Beaulieu. Elias tells me it is only five nautical miles away, but I daren’t ask how nautical miles work. I have never been very good with maths, so whatever he says will probably go over my head. Instead, I try to look intelligent and as though I understand.

I offer to make us a coffee, and as I head into the galley, I see what he means about being messy. At least it shows he is human. I was beginning to think he was too perfect. I tidy everything up, and finally, with everything spick and span, I head back onto the bridge with our coffee.

As the wind blows in my hair and the spray of the sea splashes against my skin, I can’t help grinning at Elias. I am so happy that I almost forget about work but force myself to remember that I promised I would write up a chapter of the book before we reach our destination. So, I leave Elias with his coffee and take out my laptop as I sit astride a sun lounger on the lower deck.

I gaze into the sky as if I will find the words I need written up there, but I realise that the universe doesn’t have to provide me with creativity. I have plenty of inspiration since meeting Elias, and I type so fast that before I even realise it, the boat has slowed down, and we have reached our first port of call.

I make sure to save all my work and rush up to Elias to see if I can do anything to help.

‘Just keep an eye starboard if you will,’ he says.

I rush to my left.

‘Right,’ laughs Elias.

‘I’m so sorry. Clearly not cut out to be a shipmate.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. I’d say you’re a very good shipmate,’ says Elias with a grin.

My cheeks glow at his remark. I hope he isn’t just referring to what we got up to this morning.

With the boat safely moored at Beaulieu-sur-Mer, Elias takes my hand as we stroll through the pretty marina, surrounded by imposing villas.

‘What a beautiful place. So, who owns all these yachts?’

‘It’s mostly locals. They only have a handful of berths for visitors.’

‘Wow, imagine living here. Like, this is your life… Some people are so lucky.’

‘Yeah. It’s one of my favourites. I’ve always loved this place. I never thought I’d be sailing a yacht into it one day, though.’

‘You came here before you sailed?’

‘Yeah, we used to bring the car and drive through the French Riviera every summer. We never stayed anywhere fancy, though. To be honest, there was a campsite, and we travelled from there.’

‘Oh, I went camping once in France in the Eighties. It didn’t stop raining. The fields were flooded, and the shower block filled with mud.’

‘Yeah, I remember those days. Fortunately, campsites have improved over the years. Of course, you can’t guarantee the weather, though. Although it’s perfect today.’

I couldn’t agree more as the sun is blazing down on us. Thankfully, the light breeze keeps it cool enough to walk around without it feeling uncomfortable.

‘It really is the perfect day. It’s like I can hear that Lou Reed song in my head.’

‘Oh, I love that. One of my favourite songs,’ says Elias, turning around to look at me.

‘No way. Me too. We should have played that last night when we had our drinks outside.’

‘We will. Let’s make a list of tracks and get Alexa to play them.’

‘Brilliant. Is there anything better than being sat on deck watching the world go by drinking a glass of wine with the best music?’ I ask.

‘And the best company,’ says Elias, squeezing my hand.

As we walk along the seafront, I notice that Michael has been messaging again. I look at the screen in disbelief.

Elias… That can’t be his real name.

I choose to ignore it. There is no way I am responding to him when I am having the most wonderful day. I will not let him ruin it.

However, as Elias and I walk along the front hand in hand, I find myself watching him and that sneaking doubt creeps in again. What if there is something he isn’t telling me? What if his name isn’t Elias? Is he too good to be true? Despite wanting to ignore Michael’s message and being annoyed at myself for letting my ex-husband’s doubts crawl into my head, I ask him about it.

‘Elias is an unusual name. Where did it come from?’

‘My dad was in the army back in the Sixties. He was based in Cyprus when my mum got pregnant. There was a church called Profitis Elias near where they lived. Her waters broke as she was walking up the stairs to it, apparently, so they called me Elias, after that church.’

‘What a lovely story. I wish I had a romantic tale like that behind my name.’

There you go, Michael! I refuse to listen to him again. He is only trying to cause trouble because he doesn’t want to see me happy.

‘Yes, my parents were the salt of the earth, you know. Doing what was right for their country. Being good neighbours. They always tried their best. Love thy neighbour and all that.’

‘Well, I can imagine that since their son is such a caring man, anyone can see that. Look how many times you’ve had to help me out of scrapes since I arrived here.’ I am satisfied that Michael has got it all wrong.

When we finish our walk, we find a spot to sunbathe on the beach. We rub suntan lotion on each other, and I find myself relaxing as he massages it into my shoulders. I’ve always worried about what people think of me, and I realise that suddenly I don’t care. Elias makes me feel so much less self-conscious.

I look at the scar on Elias’s chest again as he lies there. He doesn’t try to hide it, and neither should he. Poppy and Jasmine would probably say that he was in some rival drugs gang and got the injury in a violent fight, but I have a feeling it is something much more innocent. As I think of the girls, a message from Jasmine comes through on my mobile, checking that I am still alive and haven’t given over any money yet.

I was just thinking! Has he asked you for anything, Mam? Like, said

he forgot his money was tied up in a trust fund and he just needs ten

million for a couple of days?

I laugh out loud as I read it. Oh, Jasmine. Such an imagination!

‘Something funny?’ asks Elias.

How do I tell this man who has been so kind that my family don’t trust him? ‘Just my daughter. She’s a bit over-imaginative sometimes.’

‘Oh, my boys are the same. Danny and James are so over-protective of me since their mum died. They think they’re helping, but…’ Elias stops abruptly and doesn’t seem to want to go on.

‘Well, at least it shows they care,’ I say.

‘They do, I hope. Although sometimes I feel it’s about what they can get out of me. That sounds terrible. It’s just that, when my wife died, everything changed in more ways than one, and… oh, I don’t know. I don’t mean to complain.’

‘Oh, no, I get you!’ I thought I was the only parent who felt as though their children wanted something from them all the time.

‘You know, sometimes, I’d love to run away and see how much they really do care. They probably wouldn’t even notice I’m missing until they needed money,’ says Elias.

‘Oh, my word! Me too. Let’s run away together then.’ I laugh as I imagine two adults running off into the sunset. Of course, I couldn’t ever do that to the girls, although it does sound appealing.

Elias leans over to kiss me and strokes my hair. Then he looks at me and does that thing where it feels as though he is staring right into my soul again.

‘We could do it. The yacht is waiting. Where shall we go?’ It is hard to tell whether he is joking or serious, and I feel a twinge of panic that he may have thought I meant it.

‘Oh, yeah, I wish.’ I roll my eyes to show I was just kidding.

‘Well, you’ve got a skipper at your command. You just have to say the word.’

‘Thanks, but the girls would find me and hunt me down and they’d probably bring my ex-husband too. Actually, can we change the subject now? That’s one person I really don’t want to talk about.’

When we finish sunbathing, we go for a final stroll around the charming little fishing village. I can see why it is one of Elias’s favourites as we pass a palatial pink hotel with large wrought-iron gates and then some old-style buildings with Juliet balconies. Elias breaks my thoughts as I try to picture the sort of people who must live in these homes.

‘Hey, I’m just thinking… Shall we sail to Cannes from here? It’s not far.’

Of course, he doesn’t have to ask me twice.

‘Umm, yeah, absolutely. What an adventure!’

‘Every day’s an adventure with me, I promise you that,’ says Elias.

As I look up at him, I feel as though I could fall head over heels in love with this man. Not because of his lifestyle but because of his kindness, his enthusiasm, and, most of all, his spirit of adventure.

Although a warning in my head reminds me that I have worked hard to build my new independent life to ensure that I never get hurt again. Besides, sometimes, adventures can lead to disaster, and you have to be careful what you wish for. I mean, how many times do the fearless get stuck on mountain expeditions? Or an intrepid explorer gets lost trekking in the outback? Being adventurous is not for the faint-hearted; forget what they say about fortune favouring the brave. There is always a risk with adventure, but I may need to ask myself if this is one adventure that is worth the risk.