Ridiculous or not, it’s true.
Sophie says she wants a lie-in, and Angeline has to be on call for emergencies as Leo is out of mobile range, but Sarah says her ankle is fine and she and Michelle are both keen to make the trip up into the Pyrenees.
Poppy offers to drive today and I’m happy to accept. After the all too brief alcohol- and chocolate-induced respite, my mind is full of the coming week … My stomach churns at the thought of seeing Aiden and Sally again. I can’t believe I ever thought Sally was my friend. Anyone who has experienced it will know that getting your heart broken at the same time as you lose your best friend is like getting it broken twice over. To say it feels like a double bereavement isn’t that extreme.
I’ve been tasked with map reading as our destination isn’t an address the car satnav can help us with. I glance over at Poppy. She is nothing like Sally and I know without a doubt that she would never betray me. She just couldn’t. It’s not in her DNA. I think trusting again, loving again, being open to connect with people instead of hiding away forever has to be the best way forward for me. If I want to be happy, that is.
If I want to live, not just survive.
What good is safe if safe is miserable? It’s not actually living. It’s ticking the days off in the calendar until death, sighing with relief with every tick, grateful that nothing terrible happened that day.
That way of living isn’t for me any more. I like connecting with people. I am affectionate and loving. Suppressing that would only end up suffocating me.
As for the second love of my life, Flump is strapped in with the other dogs, totally overexcited again, not daunted by his dunking on Friday. Today I brought my jogging lead with me so that means he’ll be attached to my waist with a long zero-shock lead at all times. I am not taking any chances today.
‘We need to head south towards Andorra,’ I tell Poppy. ‘The hot springs they’re camping at are near the village of Mérens-les-Vals.’
Obviously, I have been to the baths at Ax-les-Thermes with Poppy but I hadn’t realised there were natural hot springs in the area where you could bathe for free. It makes sense, I suppose, that there would be plenty of hot springs that have not been developed because they’re in inaccessible places. Inaccessible for anyone except hikers, that is.
We park in the lower part of Nabre valley. The walk up to where are the boys are camping is challenging for Michelle, who admits that she is out of shape. Sarah is a gym bunny and has strapped her ankle so she’s fine. Poppy might loathe jogging and has never understood why I love to run but she does however do a lot of hill walking and yoga so she’s quite fit. She’s also been here with Leo before and recognises the path once we get onto it.
We hear them before we see them. There is the sound of splashing and conversation. Pickwick lets out a little woof but we manage to keep the other dogs quiet and held back and we are hidden by the trees and rocks as we approach. At least Pickwick’s woof sounds a lot more like pigeon than dog. Poppy is in the lead and she stops suddenly, her face going pink.
‘Maybe we shouldn’t surprise them,’ she whispers.
‘Why not?’ asks Michelle, leaning forward to see round her. ‘Oh, I see …’
Then of course Sarah and I have to push forward to see what they’re talking about.
The men are all naked and their clothes are lying on a nearby rock. I have accidentally seen Leo naked once, due to a dodgy bathroom lock, and obviously I’ve seen Cal but the other two I’ve only ever seen fully clothed. I can’t help leaning forward to get a better look. It’s so wrong but really …
I’m not the only one looking and despite Poppy’s initial suggestion not one of us suggests actually turning back.
‘I have an idea.’ Sarah’s face lights up, her eyes bright with mischievous gleam. ‘Let’s steal their clothes!’
I smile and look at Poppy. ‘What do you think? I mean a naked groom is traditional on an English stag do …’
‘Let’s do it,’ she agrees with a hint of wickedness in her smile. There is definitely a bad girl inside the good girl, and I can’t resist encouraging it out whenever I get a chance.
Michelle and Sarah nip forwards to take the clothes while Poppy and I hide behind the rocks with the dogs. Once the clothes are safely hidden, we arrive, making a lot of noise as we approach the hot spring pools. There is a moment of confusion as they see us, try to cover themselves and look around for their absent clothes.
Leo rolls his eyes good-naturedly and stays seated. Cal however stands up and walks towards me, not seeming at all embarrassed at being naked and making no attempt to cover himself up.
Figures. But then it’s not like he has anything to be embarrassed about.
He unclips Flump’s lead from my waist and hands it to Poppy. Then he scoops me up in his arms and takes me towards the pool with him. I’m still fully clothed.
‘Cal …’ I try to protest.
‘Stop struggling or I’ll strip you naked first,’ he says sternly.
I believe him as well. He’s quite capable of carrying out his threat.
‘My phone and my keys …’ I can’t believe I’m going to get unintentionally wet for the second time in one weekend.
Cal frees one hand and finds my phone and keys which he then drops onto a clump of grass before stepping into the hot springs pool with me. I’m only wearing shorts and a low-cut white t-shirt which instantly reveals my lacy bra once wet. He lowers himself down so I’m sitting sideways on his lap.
‘I’ll punish you properly later, when we are alone,’ he whispers in my ear as one of his hands massages my bottom.
I can feel his growing erection beneath me and have to admit his words are making me wet in a way that has nothing to do with the water. My nerve endings tingle where he touches me. I suspect his method of ‘punishing’ me will involve teasing me until I’m begging him to make me come, so I’m not too worried. I wriggle on his lap, pretending to be innocent of the effect it is having on him and unconcerned by the dire threats of extra punishment he’s whispering in my ear.
Poppy has caved and fetched the men’s clothes but Cal has to wait until the others have moved off before he can get out of the water because of my not so innocent wriggling.
‘Oh, you are definitely going to be punished later,’ he says. ‘First for the clothes and also for making me so hard when I can’t do anything about it.’
‘I missed you again,’ I whisper into Cal’s ear and he pulls me in tighter. There is a pause and I’m afraid I’m being too full on. Should I have stayed away and let him have his time alone with the stags?
‘I missed you too,’ he replies and gives me a sharp nip on my ear lobe with his teeth that makes me squirm again.
I sigh in relief. I hope this anxiety will pass. It’s exhausting. It’s a stressful week though, what with Sex in the Suburbs coming next week, and getting everything ready for the wedding next weekend.
Once he has dried off and changed, I take his hand. I have dried as best I can. I refused his offer to strip me and dry me properly because I’m already as turned on as he is and it’s a bit too public here. I’ll just have to dry in the sun and be glad my shorts aren’t see-through too. At least I’m wearing one of my good bras. I suppose it’s no worse than me wearing a bikini.
At least that’s what I tell myself when we join the others and I catch one of the guys staring at my chest. He looks away quickly though, when Cal glares at him.
We join the men at their camp for a breakfast of bacon and sausage rolls cooked on the metal barbecue trays out in the open air. The dogs do quite well out of the meal. I think Cal’s last roll was mostly bread by the time Flump was done with him. Flump is admittedly very good at begging. He sits quietly looking soulful and hungry and if that doesn’t work, he tries a gentle paw tap and tilt of the head. I have to admire his technique.
Once everyone has eaten, both girls and small dogs head back home and leave the stags in peace for the rest of the day. Michelle walks ne
xt to me on the way back to the car.
‘I don’t think you have anything to worry about,’ she says. ‘He seems nuts about you.’
‘What if it’s just a sex thing?’ I bite my lip anxiously.
‘Then enjoy it, see if it turns into something else. But if not, well … enjoy it anyway, I say. You’re bloody lucky!’
Chapter 16
‘You have to stop crying, and you have to go kick some ass’
Lady Gaga
The plate slips from my fingers and smashes on the old flagstone floor.
I’m on the floor clearing up the pieces when Poppy enters the kitchen.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Just got things on my mind …’ I say. ‘Seeing Aiden and Sally again tomorrow, you know?’
‘Have you got cold feet?’ she asks.
‘Distinctly chilly,’ I reply. ‘But I’m still going into the water. Rather an appropriate analogy given my dunkings last weekend.’
‘You think you’ve got problems. I accidentally sent a sexy text to my mother instead of Leo.’ Poppy grimaces.
‘Seriously? How did you manage that?’
‘Sleep-deprived,’ she replies shortly. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind. Mum is kicking up all sorts of fuss that I am not accommodating all of our relations. Actually, she’s just kicking up a fuss full stop. Although she has gone distinctly quiet since I sent her the sex text, so you know, silver linings and all that.’
I burst out laughing and Poppy joins in. She scoops down to pick up a shard of plate that I missed. There is a distinct tinge of hysteria to our laughter.
‘Are you really sure you want to do this thing with Aiden?’ she asks, once we’ve stopped laughing. ‘You could pull out.’
I pause and give her question due consideration.
‘I don’t want to do it. I need to do it,’ I say firmly, realising it’s true. ‘What’s the alternative? Do I seethe in silence for the rest of my life? Let my official label every time I am mentioned in conjunction with Cal be “disgraced Joanna Grant”? No way.’
‘You want to choose your own label and tear up your old one. You know, that might give me an idea,’ Poppy says thoughtfully. ‘It’s very brave of you.’
‘Hmmm.’ I don’t reply properly. I’m really not feeling all that brave today.
‘We should do a social media campaign.’ Poppy’s eyes light up.
‘Erm, what now?’ I can’t help the concern creeping into my voice. I haven’t been on social media since shortly after my life imploded so publicly for all of the social media world to comment on. I’ve been resisting checking to see what people are saying about me and Cal.
‘We’ll call it #rewritethelabel or #rewritingthelabel.’ Poppy touches my arm. ‘It’ll be brilliant. I’ve got a great idea for a short video clip. You can rip up a card sign in front of you saying “disgraced reality TV star” and then hold up a different one saying, well … whatever you want it to. I’ve got it. You should say “real life star”. Because you are to me. You’ve been a total star the whole time you’ve been here. The kind of star that really matters.’
I give her a hug, my eyes pricking with unexpected tears.
‘It’s a great idea. I’m just not sure I can do the whole social media thing again.’
‘You post once, on the evening of the event, which is what, tomorrow? We will tag the Sex in the Suburbs people and then you can bow out. We can do it straight after you get back from the Château and then I can repost everything for you when the South of France special is aired on TV. In fact, I can do all of the posting for you if you give me your passwords.’
‘You would do that for me?’ I ask. ‘But you’re so busy with your wedding.’
‘Nonsense, look at how much you’re doing for me. Of course I can find time. If you trust me with your passwords, that is.’
‘Without a single doubt.’ I hug her again, my feet now not feeling quite so cold as they did earlier. I’m fairly sure that life without trust would be pretty cold. There’s such a thing as too much caution.
That evening, after we’ve cleared away the dinner dishes, I change into a dress and make sure I look presentable. I change out of my first choice when Michelle and Poppy veto it and insist I show a bit of cleavage, saying it’s important I look fabulous so I can stick two fingers up to Aiden, but in a dignified, moral-high-ground kind of way.
Right … Okay. Dignified but desirable. I can do that.
I swallow hard.
‘Are you ready to do this?’ Poppy asks, holding up her phone so she can film me.
‘Okay, I’m ready.’
I take a deep breath and hold the card in front of my chest that reads DISGRACED REALITY STAR. I tear it up and let it fall to the ground to display a second card behind it that reads RESPECTED REAL-LIFE STAR. I don’t even have to remember to smile because tearing up my former ‘label’ feels really good, very therapeutic.
‘Okay, that looks good. Here, have a look.’ Poppy studies her phone for a minute then passes it to me to watch the clip. ‘Do you know what you want to say? Do we have any text? Not that you need to say much, I think the images are powerful enough. So we’ve got the video and we’ve also got the two photos of you holding each card so we can do a two-picture collage separate to the video. You could put a cross in the corner of the first photo or a line through it or something.’
I appreciate Poppy’s creative vision. I’m not sure I would have thought this up on my own.
‘I’ve already got what I want to say written. It’s short but powerful, I hope. Here, I’ll send it to you in a text so you can copy and paste it into the posts. Let’s see if anyone on social media is interested.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Michelle laughs. ‘They will eat this up. You look fabulous and whoever’s in charge of social media for the show will make sure it gets traction. The best thing is that it’s got a powerful message too. Wouldn’t it be great if we could get “rewriting the label” trending?’
‘It would be wonderful,’ I admit. ‘Not worth going through everything I’ve been through, but amazing nonetheless.’
I don’t sleep very well, in spite of Cal’s comforting presence in my bed. I’m feeling too sick to eat when I go down to the kitchen, so I get a bottle of water to take out to the garden. We’ve still got a little while before we leave, and saying I need to calm down would be an understatement. I’m so tense it feels like my jaws are glued together and my shoulders are up by my ears. I grab one of the yoga mats we keep for guests and head for the terrace.
After a few sun salutations and breathing exercises I’m feeling much better. Ideally, I prefer to go for a run to get rid of nervous energy but it’s a hot day already. The last thing I want is to get all hot and sweaty and I’ve actually got quite fond of yoga since Poppy has been teaching me. It’s calming and balancing in some way I can’t ascribe purely to the physical exercises.
I’m in the down dog position and frantically running through the moral-high-ground script I’ve been rehearsing for Aiden and Sally. I do know it’s not in the spirit of yoga but I’m only human. I really don’t want to mess up today. Then I hear Cal’s voice from behind the hedge.
‘No, Vanessa, I told you I’m not prepared to use JoJo like that.’ Cal sounds irritated. I imagine him running his hands through his messy hair like he always does when he’s exasperated.
Vanessa, Vanessa … Is that his agent? Using me like what? My mind boggles and my pose wobbles a little as my attention meanders. I try to work out what Vanessa is saying at the other end of the conversation.
‘I don’t care if it will get more book pre-orders. Joanna has been through enough. I’m not asking her to do a joint interview with me.’ There’s steel in his tone. ‘You persuaded me this would be a great idea and I’ve agreed to do it but that’s as far as it goes. My relationship with JoJo isn’t entertainment. It’s real. Not reality.’
Real. Warmth creeps through my body. Warmth to do with feeling loved and protected. Warm
th that joins with my growing excitement at finally shedding the weight of shame that has been dragging me under for too long.
It feels like when I’m with Cal I rise to the surface. I am more me when I’m with him.
I knew I was right to trust Cal. I knew it deep down but still it’s oh so nice to have it confirmed.
I hear Cal end his call and his footsteps approaching so I quickly resume my pose, pretending to be in a deep meditation state and therefore utterly incapable of eavesdropping.
‘Well, that’s a sight for sore eyes.’ Cal’s tone is warmer now.
I jump when he places a hand on the back of my thigh and slides it up to my rear.
‘Hey, I was trying to relax,’ I protest a little feebly because the usual reaction has kicked in with his touch. In other words, my insides feel like molten chocolat chaud whenever he touches me.
Every single time.
‘I’m trying to de-stress before we leave,’ I say but there’s no conviction in my voice. Cal has me and he knows it.
‘I could help you with that.’ His fingers brush the waistband of my yoga pants and the strip of exposed bare flesh where my T-shirt has ridden up.
With a sharp intake of breath, I lose my pose and slide down onto the mat.
‘I suppose I could be persuaded.’ I meet Cal’s gaze. ‘I need time after to do a proper job of my make-up and hair.’
Living in rural southern France I’ve let my standards fall and my regime usually involves putting my hair up in a ponytail and using a good moisturiser. Maybe a slick of lip gloss if I’m going somewhere I might be recognised. The thought of putting foundation and powder on is a little like putting armour on. At the very least it will boost my confidence.
‘You’re gorgeous, you’ve got nothing to worry about.’
Nothing to worry about? I love his confident assertion. As far as I can see I’ve got everything to worry about but there are better things to do with our time than argue.
Jojo's French Escape Page 21
