Chapter 8
DAWN
‘You should get off your phone and enjoy the view.’
The moment I say it, I regret it. Megan looks up from the screen and shoots me the kind of glare that would crush anyone who isn’t her mother.
Thankfully, I remain in one piece, a bit of an old hat when it comes to being on the receiving end of those.
I’ve been getting them since the day I tried to make her wear a coat to go outside on a snowy day when she was two years old.
It was like wrestling a screaming octopus into a puffer jacket.
‘Sure, I’ll just get off my phone and leave the client of a multi-million-dollar project waiting until I’m done frolicking around France on holiday,’ she replies sarcastically from the backseat of the speedboat.
‘I also won’t reply to Seamus, who, in his latest drunken escapade, went out last night and has lost not one but both of his laptops and is freaking out about the meeting he’s due to sit in on in ten minutes.
At least this time, he didn’t wallop a client with either of them, but still a tad of an issue.
Sure, I’ll drink rosé instead and ignore my fifty-strong team, all of whom apparently can’t function without me telling them exactly what to do, all while Cameron, the senior partner breathing down my neck and one of the people who is in the midst of deciding whether I should be promoted to partner myself, demands to know why we’re not delivering this deal faster and cheaper.
You’re right, Mum, I should put my phone away, ignore them all, sit back and enjoy the view. ’
With one last withering look, she looks back down at her email.
Suitably chastised, I take a sip from my plastic wine glass of rosé and turn away from her to keep my eyes on the open sea ahead.
I’m standing next to Nico at the helm as he drives, one hand leaning on the back of his seat, enjoying the thrilling sensation of the wind battering my face and sending my hair whipping around my head as he speeds past the beach bars of Saint-Cyprien.
He’s slowed now, so we can pootle along casually, helping ourselves to the breakfast croissants he was thoughtful enough to pack since we missed breakfast, and the pale pink wine he brought in the cool bag.
It may be a bit early for a drink – clearly Megan thinks so – but boats are like airports and ski resorts.
Time is merely a concept here. Any time is rosé time.
My god, the memories that come flooding back almost floor me.
Henry driving the boat, his sunglasses on, his chin up, the crinkles around the corners of his mouth as he went faster at my encouragement, then slower so we could point at the sprawling, modern properties built near the edge of the cliffs, wondering who might be rich enough to afford them.
And little Megan, so excited to be on the boat, so free and happy and fun in her T-shirt and swimsuit, begging her dad to let her drive, teasing me when I’d yelp at being splashed by the sea water if we hit a wave too hard, hugging me tight as we looked out for dolphins and waved to other boats passing by.
You know, I can’t remember the last time we hugged like that.
When in that shared moment you’re both ballooned with happiness, your everyday clashes and worries forgotten.
The boat days here were always the best days.
I didn’t realise how much I’d missed them.
‘Thank you, Nico, for taking us today,’ I say, swallowing the lump that has formed in my throat. ‘It has been a long time since I’ve been on a boat.’
‘It’s a pleasure,’ he grins, adjusting his sunglasses. ‘I don’t get to do this so often.’
‘Too busy running a chateau.’ I pretend to be pushing my hair out of my face, but I’m discreetly wiping the sweat from my brow. I’m so damn hot. These days, I’m always too hot. ‘Do you offer excursions on the boat to guests?’
‘We recommend companies and work with them to provide day itineraries that usually involve taking them to Collioure for lunch, but I don’t organise or go myself. This boat doesn’t get as much use as before.’
‘I think Henry used to hire a boat for the day, didn’t he. Or we would all go out on this one when your uncle had the time to take us.’
‘That’s right.’
‘You and Megan would go snorkelling while we had a picnic lunch on the boat.’
‘Yes.’ He smiles at the memories. ‘And we would try to beat each other at water skiing. Who could stay on the longest.’
‘I can’t remember who would win that.’
He turns his head to look at me. ‘Megan, of course. She always won everything.’
Chuckling, I glance back at my daughter.
If she can hear us, she’s pretending she can’t, her forehead creased as she reads her phone.
I wish she would let go for a moment. Let herself be here and enjoy it.
But I understand the pain as well as the joy of this experience.
It feels wrong to be here without him. Although in a way, I suppose we’re not.
Handing my glass to Nico to hold for a moment, I reach into my bag and pull out the box. That gets her attention. Out the corner of my eye, I see her lift her head as she watches me place it carefully on the flat surface behind the steering wheel.
‘There, darling. Front row seat.’
I take my glass back from Nico and tip it towards the box.
A few moments later, when I turn back to get my sun cream out from my bag, I notice that Megan has lowered her phone and is gazing out at the sea.
***
When Nico has moored at our assigned buoy in the Collioure marina, he tells us that we can get ready for the water taxi to bring us to shore for lunch. Removing my sunglasses, I perch them on top of my head and squint at him.
‘Water taxi,’ I repeat.
‘Yes, it will come soon,’ Nico confirms, as Megan puts on her sandals.
‘Henry used to swim in.’
Nico smiles. ‘You aren’t allowed to do that anymore.’
My hands on my hips, I look around at the fleet of boats bobbing in the sparkling blue sea.
Collioure is a town on an extraordinary coastline.
The first thing you spot as you near it is the church tower, tall and striking with its pink dome, right on the edge of the water.
Then your eyes drift across the colourful red-roofed houses, the stone-walled castle, the green hills that stretch up beyond them, the old windmill in the distance and the fort perched at the top.
This is a calm, unspoilt place filled with stories, you can feel them at a glance.
My vision is a little blurred. I blink to clear it, my breath shaking a little. It’s the heat. I need to cool down. I glance down at the water and make my decision.
Taking my sunglasses off my head and putting them in their case in my bag, I start removing my maxi dress, standing in my swimsuit that I’d changed into when Nico informed me that the first item on Henry’s list was a boat day. I quite agree it’s the best way to start a holiday.
‘Mum, what are you doing?’ Megan asks sharply.
I bend down to start the process of removing my sandals.
‘I’m going to swim in.’
‘What?’
‘That’s what Henry always did.’
I straighten, tossing my shoes in my bag.
‘Nico has just told you that you’re not allowed to do that here,’ she says in the manner of a school teacher trying to keep their patience with the disruptive kid.
‘I don’t think anyone will mind. It’s not far to the beach.’
‘Mum, you can’t.’
I examine the water, a flurry of nerves dancing around my stomach. ‘Yes, I can.’ I’m convincing myself. ‘It will be a nice way to cool down. Henry used to harp on about that, didn’t he. A refreshing swim to wash away the cobwebs or something along those lines.’
‘Blow away the cobwebs,’ she corrects impatiently, Henry’s stubbornness etched in the lines of her frown. ‘You never even swam in when Dad was here! You didn’t like getting your hair wet or ruining your make-up when you were about to go for lunch.’
‘Yes, that was when I thought people might look at me. These days I know no one is.’ I lift my chin, inhaling deeply through my nose as I eye up the water. ‘Things are different.’
‘Nico, tell her she’s being ridiculous, she doesn’t listen to me,’ Megan orders sharply.
‘Does she listen to anyone?’ he says, amused.
‘You were always very observant, Nico,’ I say. ‘And the answer is no, I don’t. One of the many reasons I’m a complete and utter disaster.’
‘Don’t you think you’re too old for these silly games?’ Megan mutters.
I clench my jaw. ‘No. I don’t.’
Moving to the back of the boat, I prepare to disembark.
‘Are you seriously going to do this?’ Megan asks, utterly bewildered.
‘Yes, want to join me?’
‘No! Because it’s absurd and you’ll get in trouble.’
‘A threat that’s never stopped me before.’
‘Mum, please, you can’t,’ she presses, exasperated.
‘I keep hearing that sentiment recently,’ I say. ‘It’s beginning to irritate me.’
Taking a deep breath, I battle against the whisper in my head that tells me this is irresponsible and I go with the voice telling me not to think about it too much, telling me I’m not broken yet. His voice, I realise.
I hear Megan gasp as I leap forwards before the cold water engulfs me, a shock to the system that knocks at my chest and electrifies my brain. I come up to break through the surface, gulping in the air, tasting the salt water on my lips and grinning broadly.
Megan is staring down at me from the boat, horrified.
‘Would one of you mind passing me Henry’s box?’ I ask, swimming near the boat and treading water there, moving up and down with the gentle swell and dip of the waves.
Megan doesn’t move. Nico goes to the helm, picks up the box and then passes it down into my outstretched hand.
Megan balks. ‘What are you planning to do? Swim while holding that?’
‘Well, I’m not planning on using it as a float. I shall hold it up. Henry liked to swim to lunch and this isn’t my holiday, it’s his.’
‘And what if it goes under water?’ she asks, aghast.