Chapter Eight
By the time I open my eyes and look at my phone in the morning, there is a message already waiting from Elias.
Good morning, hope you had a nice sleep. If you give me your address,
I can pick you up when you’re ready. It might be easier if I take you to
the marina so you find it okay. Boss says he’s happy for you to look
around!
Since I’m in the middle bedroom, I shout through the walls at both Carol and Soraya.
‘Girls, Elias says we can see the boat. What time shall I ask him to pick us up?’
A sleepy-sounding Soraya suggests ten a.m., and we all agree. After all, she’s the birthday girl.
I message Elias to arrange the time, and he comes straight back. I give him our address so that he can pick us up. We quickly shower, get ready to meet him and pack up our swimming stuff for the pool we plan on going to later. For luck, we all steal a squirt of Soraya’s Ana?s Ana?s before we leave and walk out smelling of the Eighties. It isn’t wasted on Elias.
‘What a lovely scent. Reminds me of something. I can’t put my finger on it.’
‘Your mother?’ laughs Carol.
‘Blinking heck. I was racking my brains. How on earth did you work that one out? You’re bang on,’ he says. I can’t help but be impressed that I have come across a man in Monaco who is familiar with our favourite perfume of the Eighties.
We all laugh, and I explain how it used to be Soraya’s favourite perfume. Then we climb into Elias’s convertible hire car. As we head towards the main marina, which the apartment overlooks, we expect him to stop. However, he quickly drives past, and my stomach starts to flip. I realise we don’t know who this man is or where he is taking us.
Nervously, I ask where we are heading.
‘Oh, did you think the boat would be in that marina? Sorry, that’s for the bigger boys. My boss isn’t that big a hotshot. Lady Jane is moored in another marina. It’s not too far away.’
‘Lady Jane. Is that your boss’s wife?’ asks Soraya.
Elias looks at her in the mirror and gives a noncommittal smile.
‘What music do you ladies like? I’ve got a playlist on here somewhere. Scroll through.’ I take Elias’s phone and look through his music selection.
‘ELO? Genesis? 10CC! Goodness, I’ve not heard of any of these for years.’
Carol and Soraya groan, so I continue flicking through until I find a Take That song.
‘Yay, that’s more like it,’ says Carol.
Soraya reaches her arms out through the open roof and waves them around.
‘Woohoo. Take That. The birthday girl says bring it on.’
As she waves her arms in the air, I think how lucky it is that she is saving her birthday tiara for this evening, or she may well have lost it in the breeze by now. I desperately hang onto my panama hat as Elias navigates the bends and chicanes of Monaco in the little soft-top Fiat as we sing along to Take That. The breeze picks up further as we go around a corner, and Carol’s vintage silk scarf slips from her head. I watch in the mirror as she holds onto it for dear life. She is very proud of that headscarf, which used to belong to her mother.
A wave of happiness washes over me as I sing along to Take That and enjoy this moment of freedom. Here, in this car, it is back to being me and my friends, like the old days before those adult commitments, divorce and household bills all came along. It feels like being fifteen again, before life gave me a few lemons. I am so thrilled we bumped into Elias last night and we get to spend Soraya’s birthday like this. I’m also looking forward to what I might find on board the yacht, not to mention the research for my book. Maybe I should include a handsome skipper on a yacht in my romcom.
I lose track of time and enjoy the feeling of the sun on my skin until finally a harbour comes into view.
‘Almost there,’ says Elias.
The marina is smaller than the main one at Port Hercules, although it’s still impressive as it sits at the foot of the Rock of Monaco. It’s sheltered by the rock and surrounding buildings and is a delightful, cosy cove. Whilst the boats are smaller here than at the main marina, they are definitely not small by any stretch of the imagination.
‘Wow, look at that one,’ says Carol.
‘That belongs to a sultan,’ says Elias knowledgably.
‘A sultan? Is he single?’ laughs Carol.
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I think he has a few wives.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame. What about that boat over there? Who owns that?’ She points at a beautiful, sleek silver yacht that looks like a bullet.
‘I don’t know. Think it came in last night.’
‘I like that. I think that’s my favourite one,’ she says.
Carol is like an inquisitive child in the back and can’t stop asking questions as Elias parks up.
‘So, do you get to meet everyone in the marina?’ asks Soraya.
‘No. You get to chat sometimes, and there are some staff that are quite friendly. The owners tend to keep themselves to themselves, though. But, yeah, I get to meet other captains and deckhands and things. You know how it is when you all work in the same industry,’ says Elias.
‘Yeah, because it’s just like that when you’re a hairdresser,’ says Carol sarcastically.
Elias smiles politely and strides ahead.
We walk along the moorings and past some of the most beautiful yachts I have ever seen. I particularly enjoy looking at the stern of the boats with their names and colourful flags that swing in the breeze. The yachts are registered to so many different glamorous places, including Barbados, Antigua, Dubai, and Corsica; they come from all over. Then I spot one with a British flag that is registered to the UK. I look at the name, and it is Lady Jane . I think it must be one of my favourite boats here. Some of them seem too ostentatious and probably have helicopter pads and goodness knows what on them. However, Lady Jane is just perfect. She’s big and beautiful but not too much. If I was a squillionaire, like some of these people, and I wanted a yacht, this is just the type of thing I would go for. It looks more intimate than the others, and you wouldn’t need an army of staff either.
‘Right then. Are we ready to see Lady Jane ?’ asks Elias.
‘Absolutely,’ says Soraya.
‘How funny. I was thinking that this is my favourite boat here, and it’s the one you work on,’ I say.
‘How many floors has it got?’ says Carol, looking at Lady Jane in wonder.
‘Just so you know, we call them decks, and there are only three on here – unlike some of the ones around us,’ says Elias.
‘Yeah, Carol. You should know they’re called decks,’ Soraya teases her.
Elias’s lesson in yachting terms doesn’t deter her and she rushes straight after Elias to walk over a small gangplank to get on board. Soraya and I follow behind her and giggle at how excited Carol has become.
‘Do you mind taking your shoes off? Sadly, that’s boat etiquette – not my rules,’ says Elias as he removes his deck shoes.
We place all our shoes in a pile and make our way to the main deck. Beyond two sliding glass doors is a lounge area with huge comfy sofas and a bar area.
‘Wow. Imagine being sat here, sailing the Med with the man of your dreams,’ says Carol.
‘This is beautiful. Do you mind if I take some photos to show my husband?’ says Soraya.
‘No, be my guest,’ says Elias.
‘Can you imagine Andrew seeing this? It’s just his kind of thing. What a lucky lady Jane is to have a yacht like this named after her.’
‘Maybe her husband bought it for her,’ says Carol.
‘Umm, and why can’t she buy her own yacht? She doesn’t need a man to buy her a yacht. It’s obvious there is a woman of style and class behind this somewhere. I bet she doesn’t need any man behind her,’ I argue.
‘Fair enough. You’re right. She does need a hot captain, though,’ says Carol.
‘Yeah, but that’s only so she can relax and not have to worry about driving. It’s hard enough to park in the supermarket sometimes. Imagine trying to park one of these up in its mooring,’ I say.
‘Are you saying women are bad drivers?’ laughs Elias.
‘No, I’m definitely not saying that. I’m just saying men sometimes have their uses. I’ve never been much of a parallel parker, that’s all. But Soraya here, she can do it in her sleep.’
‘Yeah, I admit, I am pretty good when it comes to parallel parking.’
‘Oh well, I’ll have to give you a go at the controls then. We can have a parking challenge,’ says Elias.
‘Oh yeah. Challenged accepted,’ says Soraya.
‘Come on. I’ll take you all onto the bridge.’
We follow Elias like he is the Pied Piper and look around in awe at the artwork that hangs around the lounge area. The bright colours of the landscapes perfectly complement the neutral palette of the furniture. Cream sofas plumped up with cushions look inviting and a lot more comfortable than the cheap sofa I picked up to furnish my flat. I notice the hardback books about yachts that appear to have been carefully chosen to adorn the coffee table. It seems they’ve thought of everything.
The boat gently bobs about in its mooring as the three of us spot a sculpture of a panther with a diamond necklace.
‘I can’t make my mind up about that. Bit chavvy perhaps?’ whispers Soraya, as she eyes up the panther.
‘I don’t know. I wouldn’t waste that necklace on a sculpture though. I’d rather wear it than leave it gathering dust like that,’ I say.
‘What if it’s real diamonds?’ says Carol.
‘It can’t be, surely?’
‘It could be. If so, then Lady Jane and her husband are seriously loaded,’ says Carol.
‘I think you’d have to be pretty loaded for the boat alone, without the furniture,’ I say. By the look of the glossy walnut woodwork and the cream and blue carpeted spiral staircase leading downstairs, clearly no expense has been spared. Elias then gives us a sneaky peek into the galley, which is a lot more basic than the rest of the boat, although it still has the best of everything, including a high-tech coffee machine and Smeg fridge.
Meanwhile, stepping onto the bridge reminds me of a spaceship. There are so many screens, knobs and buttons that I don’t know how Elias is so familiar with them.
‘I wouldn’t know where to begin. You must be very smart,’ I say.
‘No, not really. It’s easy when you get used to it all. I was a Boy Scout, it helps.’
He pushes a button, and the engines roar in the water below us.
‘Woah. This thing must be fast,’ says Carol.
‘I can bore you with all the facts and figures if you like?’
‘No, it’s okay. I went on a date once with a guy who didn’t stop talking about his Vauxhall Astra and how fast it could go. He told me five times how many miles per gallon he got out of “her”. It was one of the worst dates ever.’
‘Oh, I’d better stay quiet then.’ Elias laughs.
As Carol flirts with Elias and they get on like a house on fire, I get a burst of jealousy. I feel like reminding her that it was me who met him first. I try to tell myself that would be so petty; besides, I am purely here for inspiration for my book, and I need to make a note of everything I see.
Feeling a bit left out, I turn away from them and look over to the boats to the side of us. A couple board their splendid silver yacht and quickly disappear inside the huge glass doors. With them gone, I turn to watch a deckhand scrub the decks of a neighbouring yacht with a brush as he gets it ready for the owner, no doubt. There are so many people to watch here. The contrast between the yacht owners and deckhands doesn’t go unnoticed. I am definitely in the deckhand category with all the cleaning and picking up I do after the girls.
‘You okay?’ asks Elias, noticing that I have gone quiet.
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Just watching that guy over there. Looks like quite a hard job.’
‘Yeah, that’s why I insist people remove their shoes on here. That and the white carpets, which aren’t very forgiving.’
Elias puts his hand on my shoulder, and I feel his gentle grip. I try to remember how long it has been since I felt a man’s hand anywhere near me. It would have been in the days before Michael became Mickey and wore the Hawaiian shirts. I turn around to look at Elias. He has such lovely, long, dark eye lashes, kind eyes and a square jaw that somehow makes him look like the perfect captain. He seems powerful and calm under pressure. Like Popeye, only much better looking.
‘Shall I show you the cabins,’ asks Elias.
‘Umm, yes. I’d love to see them,’ I say. I clear my throat and let out a little cough at the thought of going down into a cabin with him.
Elias leads us down some polished oak stairs until we reach the lower deck with two doors in front of us. The first door leads us to the master bedroom. As Elias swings the door open, the three of us let out a gasp.
‘Oh my god. I’ve never seen anything so perfect,’ says Carol.
‘There’s definitely more wardrobe space than I have at home,’ I say as I look at the dark wood-panelled fitted wardrobes that line one of the walls. The gloss on them is outstanding. I’m sure you could see your reflection in them.
‘It’s amazing, isn’t it?’ says Soraya.
‘Wow, it really is,’ I say.
It is as much as I can do to not throw myself on the round double bed with its pale blue silk sheets; it is so inviting. However, I try to keep some level of decorum. Besides, someone might spot me lying there through the large round porthole, which has a fantastic view of the marina.
‘Look at all this wardrobe space,’ says Carol. I cringe slightly as she opens one of the floor-to-ceiling wardrobes. She’s so nosy!
‘Although if I was staying on here, all I’d need are a couple of bikinis and some sun cream,’ she says.
‘Look at all those pillows and cushions,’ I say, trying to distract her from going through the rest of the storage. The bed is one of those where you’d have to spend five minutes removing all the cushions before you could climb in.
Elias looks at me and smiles.
‘It’s very comfortable in here.’
‘Do you get to sleep in here? Don’t you have to stay in some kind of staff quarters?’ I ask.
‘Oh, the owner’s very kind… And generous. I can stay in here if I want to.’
Carol looks at Soraya, and then they both look at me.
Affair with Lady Jane? mouths Carol.
‘Well, it must be incredible to wake up somewhere like this,’ I say.
‘It’s not a bad place to wake up at all,’ says Elias.
For some reason, as he looks at me and says this, I become all flustered, so I remind the girls that we wanted to hit the pool before lunchtime, or we might get burnt in the midday sun.
‘We don’t want to look like lobsters tonight,’ I tell them.
‘No, we did say that. Well, thank you so much. This has been a brilliant birthday treat. Thank you again, Elias,’ says Soraya.
‘Oh, definitely. It’s been awesome. Thank you, Elias.’
‘You’re very welcome. Nice to have the company. Now, let me drop you back into Monaco.’
The drive seems faster coming back into the principality, and we soon recognise where we are.
Elias drops us off at a hotel we’ve found that will allow us to use the pool as day visitors, and we head off with our suntan lotion.
We wave goodbye to Elias as he drives off, and I can’t stop myself from looking back three times until he is finally out of sight.
‘Well, he’s a bit of alright, isn’t he?’ says Carol.
‘He certainly is. And a lovely man too,’ says Soraya.
‘I hope we’ll see him again. Can’t you arrange something?’ says Carol.
I start to get annoyed and don’t even understand why. Carol has been my best friend forever, but suddenly, I feel so irritated with her. We are here for a girls’ holiday. How many times does she have to be told?
‘No, I can’t arrange anything. Now will you stop going on about Elias?’
‘Ooh, touched a nerve, have we?’ she says.
‘No. I couldn’t care less about him. It was just embarrassing seeing you all doe-eyed every time he said anything.’
‘She fancies him,’ says Carol to Soraya.
‘Don’t be so childish. You’re not twelve.’
‘She does fancy him. It’s obvious,’ says Soraya.
‘I don’t fancy him. I don’t like him and I’ll never see him again anyway. Look…’ I get my phone out from my woven beach bag and delete Elias’s messages along with his number.
‘There. Now I don’t even know how to contact him. He’ll be off to Andalusia, or wherever he’s going by this time tomorrow, and he’ll sail off into the sunset with his rich boss.’
Carol and Soraya look a bit shocked as they spread out on their sunbeds near the pool bar, with a nearby palm tree for shade. I am hoping the loud music coming from the bar will deter any further conversation.
I kick my legs around as I huff and puff on my yellow and white stripy towelled sunbed. I can’t get myself comfortable, and I begin to regret having my little tantrum. I have just met the most gorgeous captain of a yacht, and even if there is no romance, he could have provided some great inspiration for my book. The truth is that Carol has hit a nerve; I’m never this narky.
I wriggle about, turn away from my friends and grab a crime novel out of my bag. Who needs romance when you can read about gritty murders? But, as I calm down, I realise I shouldn’t have deleted all record of Elias from my phone. After all, I have a book to write, and I need inspiration. Elias was wonderful inspiration. Half an hour later, I can take no more.
I turn to Carol and Soraya.
‘Does anyone know how you retrieve a deleted phone number?’