The French Adventure

by Lucy Coleman

  ‘Wrecking ball, really? That’s a song title?’ He sounds amused.

  ‘Look it up on YouTube sometime. I bet you end up watching it more than once.’

  Sam catches on quickly and seems to have an ear for lyrics. Next up is Metallica with ‘Nothing Else Matters’ and that’s one rock song I have heard before.

  ‘Ooh, I like this one. The guitar opener is awesome. Maybe we should just listen to it as my throat is feeling rather dry already.’

  Sam reaches into the back to grab two bottles of water from the cool box. He loosens the screw top on one and passes it to me.

  ‘Thanks, I need this.’ The water slides down easily, soothing my strained vocal chords.

  ‘How on earth do singers do it? Belting out numbers all night at the tops of their voices. But it’s fun, isn’t it? I mean, this isn’t proper Karaoke, obviously, but it passes the time.’

  Sam has already drunk the entire contents of his bottle and throws it over his shoulder onto the rear seat.

  ‘What’s next?’ He asks, as if I have an entertainment plan organised for the entire journey.

  ‘OK. Question time. We each ask each other a question and we have to answer it truthfully.’

  I can’t turn to see his expression, but he emits a low grumble.

  ‘You go first. Ask me anything.’ Can’t get much simpler than that, I tell myself. But I’m not sure he wants to play because it takes him a while to speak.

  ‘Where do you hope to be this time next year?’ He asks and it’s a good question.

  Hmm, thought provoking, too. ‘Let’s see… well, I’d like to say firmly established in a respectably sized flat in London – the suburbs of course: I’m not greedy. Maybe short-listed for a new business award and looking at taking on some staff to cover the flood of work that is coming in.’

  He laughs. ‘Not greedy? I’d say that’s pretty ambitious.’

  ‘My turn, now. What’s the one thing in life that makes you instantly happy, no matter what’s going wrong around you?’

  I hear a soft groan and Sam sits for a while watching the scenery flashing by as he mulls it over.

  ‘It has to be music. Although if I had a dog, that would make me pretty happy.’

  ‘Why don’t you get one?’

  ‘I’m not good at taking care of myself, let alone an animal.’ He tries to laugh it off, then launches into his next question.

  ‘What’s your biggest regret so far?’

  That’s a difficult one. ‘Well, as the point of this exercise is that we’re being totally truthful, I have to say there are a few and it’s kind of hard to choose. But, honestly? It was telling someone I knew a long time ago that I loved him, only to find out that he didn’t feel the same way and he was using me. It broke my heart and I’ve never fully recovered. You owe me now. That hurt. It’s my turn.’

  I pause for a moment wondering how to phrase the question to which I’m curious to know the answer.

  ‘Have you ever been in love?’

  Silence hangs heavily between us as the seconds tick by. I momentarily wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but he moves in his seat, re-adjusting his position.

  ‘Once. Once was enough.’

  That’s it?

  ‘That’s not a proper answer and you know it. Why did it fall apart?’

  ‘Because she died,’ he says, softly.

  I suspected as much but now I regret having asked the question and forcing the issue. I thought that maybe it was something he might want to talk about.

  ‘You don’t know my past, Anna. Anyway, I’m better off alone.’

  Suddenly he sounds almost depressed. Now I don’t know whether I should ignore it and change the subject completely, or give him a chance to talk. Fortunately, while I’m still considering the options he starts speaking again.

  ‘I get asked to this get-together every year and every year I say no. Until now. I have no idea if I can get through this and face the people who know what happened.’

  He falls silent.

  ‘But these people are your friends, won’t they understand how you feel?’

  Sam shifts his body position once again.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘So why is this year different?’

  ‘I let Mum talk me into it. She thinks I need to face my fears, so that I’ll be free to move on.’

  I nod. ‘That’s sound advice. There’s no point in running away, or trying to hide from the things that haunt us. I’ve probably never felt as vulnerable as I do right now, but it will pass, I know that. It will pass for you, too. How long has it been since she died?’

  ‘Seven years this month.’

  His tone alone tells me how raw his emotions still are and he must have loved her very much indeed.

  I keep my eyes firmly on the road ahead, although there is little traffic around. But this is open countryside we are travelling through now and there’s always the chance that an animal will dash across the road. I really want to see Sam’s face, though, so I turn my head for a second before spinning it back round. He looks as though he’s in shock, as if he’s re-living the worst moment of his life. I wish I hadn’t started this stupid game. I want to be sympathetic, but without knowing the details, or the circumstances, it’s hard to offer comfort without the risk of making it worse.

  ‘I’m so sorry for your loss, Sam. It’s hard to let go of someone and even harder when they are so young. Your lives together had hardly begun.’

  Out of the corner of my eye I catch the movement of his head as he turns to look at me, but I don’t want to see the look on his face this time.

  ‘I knew her friends were into drugs. She just never woke up—’ His voice slows to a halt.

  I focus on driving and we lapse into silence. There’s still a long way to go and at some point quite soon, I’ll need to stop for a comfort break. I can only hope that by then Sam has regained his composure. It’s my fault entirely for asking a question my gut instincts were telling me was at the root of his problem. And I know only too well that you never forget your first love, even when it isn’t reciprocated. So how hard must it be when it’s mutual and the person is suddenly gone forever?

  Clearing the Air

  We’ve been in the car for almost three and a half hours now and my back is beginning to ache. Sam hasn’t said anything, but he must want to stretch his legs, too. There aren’t many places to stop but little roadside cafés tend to stand out. Either there’s a board on the pavement to catch passing motorists’ attention, or often a few bistro tables clustered around the entrance.

  ‘Do you fancy a coffee? I desperately need the loo and this looks promising. What do you think?’

  I slow down, easing the car up a small ramp and into the car park alongside the café. It has a blue and white awning shading the tables and chairs, which extends along the entire length of the front of the building. The pavement is wide, but it is a little dusty when cars whoosh past.

  ‘I’m glad you stopped; thanks, Anna. Sorry about that, earlier. I feel bad that this trip has already messed me up, even before we’ve reached our destination.’

  ‘Hey, we all have our hang-ups. You aren’t alone in that, Sam. It worries me if you think you are. Everyone has a problem, it’s simply that every problem is different.’

  Walking in through the door I head straight to the loo, leaving Sam to order the coffees. When I return he’s sitting at one of the tables outside and the drinks have already arrived.

  ‘I didn’t know whether you wanted anything to eat? They have croissants and things.’

  His smile is genuine and he seems brighter already.

  ‘No, I’m fine. I thought maybe we’d stop for a picnic in about an hour? What do you think?’

  He’s looking at me intently, his eyes travelling over my face as if he’s studying me.

  ‘You know, I can’t think of a better companion but I hope you don’t feel it’s a mistake. Sitting next to me listening to my problems seems a heavy price to pa
y in exchange for a day trip to Nîmes.’

  I shake my head. ‘It’s fine, really. I’m glad you shared it with me and it must have been so hard to say those words. Such a tragedy.’

  His hand toys with the coffee cup in front of him. ‘It hit her parents really hard. They divorced a couple of years later. Maybe it wasn’t the most stable of marriages anyway, but it signalled the beginning of the end. Everyone connected seemed to fall apart overnight. It isn’t simply knowing we were all there together that night before Isla died, but her brother, Harry, was one of my best mates. I know he’ll be invited on this trip, too. I haven’t seen him since it happened.’

  ‘That’s a tough thing to face for the first time, Sam. You shouldn’t beat yourself up about getting anxious as that’s perfectly understandable. But he’ll be feeling much the same, I suspect. It’s hard to move on when there are loose ends that need to be tidied up.’

  He rubs his hands across his eyes, no doubt irritated by the gritty dust from a lorry speeding by just a few feet away from us.

  ‘Not the best place to stop, is it?’ I offer.

  ‘But the coffee is good. Can I ask about this guy? The one who broke your heart?’

  I look down, absent-mindedly stirring my coffee even though I don’t take sugar.

  ‘I was really young, very naïve and so sure he felt the same way. It wasn’t just that he didn’t return my feelings, it was the way he dismissed our relationship. I felt humiliated. I actually stutter if I even try to say his name and I haven’t talked about it to anyone for years. How stupid is that?’

  ‘You never were in love with Karl, then?’ He seems genuinely puzzled, given the fact that he witnessed the whole ring and flowers episode.

  ‘No. He said he loved me every single day without fail but in here,’ I touch my heart lightly with my hand, ‘I knew it wasn’t true. Karl doesn’t understand what love is – he just thinks he does.’

  Sam frowns. ‘Explain it to me.’

  ‘Loving someone means that you put the other person before yourself. You would do anything for them, anything at all. Your career would never get in the way, because if you lost everything but still had each other, you could always start afresh. True love is selfless. It has no ego.’

  Sam raises his eyebrows.

  ‘That’s probably the best explanation I’ve ever heard. Love has no ego; that’s prophetic.’

  ‘Sorry, did you say pathetic?’ I look up at him from under my eyelashes and see that he’s a little startled. ‘I’m only joking. Although it is rather pathetic, really. Here I am, no longer that shy, introverted teenager and yet the hurt has never gone away. I don’t find it easy to trust anyone, when it comes to the L-word.’

  We finish our drinks and Sam nips to the loo while I head for the car. When he returns he’s happy enough to slip into the passenger seat and we’re soon back on the road.

  It’s a relief to be able to pick up speed and feel the satisfaction of making good progress on our journey. An easy silence fills the car for quite a while as we clock up the kilometres.

  I realise that I’ve barely had time to think about Cannes, or the villa we’ll be staying in. I figure it might be helpful now to encourage Sam to talk, at the same time as giving me some information so I’m not walking into a roomful of people about whom I know nothing at all.

  ‘Tell me about the people who are likely to be at the villa when we arrive.’

  ‘Jack’s family own it and it’s an amazing place – money is no object. The sort of thing you see in those glossy magazines. His girlfriend’s name is Sasha, assuming it’s still the same one. We haven’t spoken in a long while but he emails once a year inviting me along to the get-together. As for the others, well, our circle included Chris, Marcus, Ethan, Andy, Harry, Jeremy and Pete. I have no idea who will be there and whether any of them are married now, or still single.’

  ‘Seeing them again makes it real, doesn’t it? That’s why you’ve been putting it off. Once you’ve conquered this you will feel better and maybe you can then, finally, let go of the past.’

  ‘That’s what Mum said. I guess if you’re of the same opinion maybe this was the right thing to do. I am glad you’re here, though, I will admit. I’d already be turning back if I was on my own.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry my stupid game triggered some tough memories, but I’m glad to be here if it’s a help. And now you, too, understand why Karl’s over-the-top declarations annoyed me so much. I’m not a heartless person, I’m simply not in love with him. It was yet another one of life’s rather harsh little lessons when I finally realised what a manipulator he was. I can’t believe that I couldn’t see how his controlling behaviour meant every situation was turned to his advantage. Or that I was gullible enough to live like that for a whole year as if it was normal.’

  Sam shrugs his shoulders.

  ‘It’s easy to look back and see the mistakes we’ve made with shocking clarity. At the time, it’s different though. Anyone can be wise with the benefit of hindsight.’

  He doesn’t sound bitter, exactly, but jaded – or maybe the word I’m looking for is defeated.

  ‘You really are unemployed, then, and this new business venture has to work?’

  ‘Yep. Or the bills won’t get paid.’

  ‘From what I’ve seen of your determination, Anna, that’s unlikely to happen and I’m sure it will be a success. Your career is important to you, isn’t it?’

  ‘At the moment, it’s all I have and I feel like everything is falling apart. It’s as much about succeeding in whatever I choose to do, though. Having lost my pride once, very early on in my life, it’s the thing I fear the most.’

  Sam does a body twist and I can feel his eyes scrutinising me again.

  ‘No one would ever think of you as a failure, Anna, but you can’t see that. When you first arrived, I thought you’d slow me down but everything I showed you, you picked up very quickly. If you didn’t push yourself so hard all the time, then maybe you’d come to understand that a knock back is simply what it says it is.’

  ‘Now who’s being prophetic? I know it’s only eleven thirty, but I’m hungry now. How about you?’

  He grins as I glance in his direction. ‘You heard my stomach growling just then, didn’t you?’

  ‘Where are we, exactly? We’ve been on the road for what – five and a half hours, although minus one thirty minute stop. Maybe it’s time to find somewhere pleasant to sit and eat lunch.’

  Sam traces his finger down our route on the satnav.

  ‘Well, if you take the next turn off, the satnav shows it will lead us onto the Rue du Coudet in a place called Marsat. It looks like a reasonably sized village and it’s only a little detour.’

  I indicate and filter onto the slip road. After a couple of kilometres, we find it. It’s a narrower road and very well maintained; no litter or weeds at all and you can see the residents are proud of their village. There is a lot of greenery on display in the well tended gardens. It partly obscures a variety of rather charming, cream painted houses and bungalows with either pink terracotta tiles, or dark brown pan tiled roofs.

  ‘This is very pretty. It all looks remarkably coordinated.’

  ‘If you keep going we should hit open countryside very shortly and I expect there will be somewhere quiet to pull over.’

  Sam is right and less than a mile outside the village there’s a pull-in large enough for half a dozen cars. The road is quiet, there is only us and it feels peaceful.

  The first thing we do is get out of the car and stretch our legs. The field next to us is grass and sporting a good crop of yellow buttercups. In the distance, we can see a small herd of cows. It’s a lot cooler today, but the sun is still very bright and almost overhead now.

  I take in a deep breath, savouring the warm air laden with the smells of sweet grass and meadow flowers.

  ‘This is lovely. It’s a pity we don’t have time to explore Marsat. Shall we spread the blanket out on the grass, here?’ />
  Sam nods and walks back to the car, returning with a tartan rug and the cool box.

  We sit side by side and I pass Sam a plate. Rummaging among the neat little parcels Mum has lovingly packed for us, it’s a bit like pot luck. I pull out one foil covered package and pass it to him.

  ‘Ham and cheese, my favourite,’ he grins, taking one huge bite.

  ‘I’m looking for the pizza. If I find it would you like a slice?’

  ‘Of course. Who doesn’t like cold pizza?’

  We sit and eat in silence, listening to the buzzing of the bees homing in on the buttercups in the field behind us and a small flock of birds fighting in the tree tops on the other side of the gravelled area. There isn’t one piece of litter to be seen anywhere.

  ‘What time do you think we’ll get to Cannes?’

  I watch him as he finishes the last of his sandwich. He brushes a few stray crumbs away from the side of his mouth. There’s something about him that I can’t quite put into words. I feel comfortable in his company even though at times he annoys me. Not so much now I know a little bit more about his story. I had no idea it was his girlfriend who had died and I’m pretty sure his mum only mentioned the word friend. That’s a huge difference, though, because to lose the person you are in love with must sap the joy out of life. How do you recover from that? Well, in Sam’s case you don’t; you just get through each day as best you can.

  ‘With no stops at all it would have been around a quarter to four. With two short breaks in our journey already and maybe a couple more comfort stops on the way, I’m guessing it will be around six o’clock. Which is good time, given the roadworks earlier. But we do need to get on our way.’

  We pack up and return to the car. Sam puts everything into the boot while I settle myself into the driver’s seat. When he returns I give him a few moments to get settled before pulling away.

  ‘Have you visited the villa before? I mean, I know you haven’t been to the reunions.’

  I immediately regret not engaging my brain – what was I thinking? If he went there with Isla it will stir up memories again and I was hoping the rest of the journey would be a little more relaxed.