‘Sure.’ I fire up the van and drive slowly as if I am transporting a newborn baby, which I suppose is not far off. I’m transporting a teeny tiny little jellybean that will grow into a baby.
‘How was last night?’ Rosie asks, as she rests her against the seat, eyes closed. ‘I heard you went to Jonathan’s author talk.’
‘Oh yes, last-minute thing. It was fine, fine. Very informative.’
One eye peels open.
‘He’s an exceptional talent. Fascinating to hear about the process behind the words.’
‘Why are you talking like that?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like you’re someone else.’
‘Your hormones are making you hear things, Rosie.’
She laughs. ‘Maybe you need a truth injection for your liarbetes?’
I shake my head. ‘Fine, fine.’ I swear Max to secrecy and then I tell her the whole sorry story and she clutches her (baby) belly and laughs, unable to form words.
‘Gosh, Rosie it’s not that funny!’
‘Holy mother of tofu, it is! The thing with the shirt!’
I blush.
‘So then what happened?’
‘I told him a bit about TJ and then left him with Max.’ Ran screaming from possibility, might be another way to put it.
‘Wow, you don’t normally tell anyone about TJ.’
I take a deep breath. ‘I know, but it felt right. And I know he’s not the type of guy to give me any throwaway lines about grief, you know?’
‘If only you were single.’
‘Shut up.’
‘Some other girl is going to snatch him right up.’
The thought gives me pause. ‘Probably. He’d make a good boyfriend for the right girl. He’s always so attentive, you know, like the way he just listens, hangs off every word as if what you say is of the utmost importance.’
‘Wow, what a monster. You’re right to stay away from him.’
‘Very funny. Don’t think I’m going to let you get away with comments like that just because you’re carrying my nephew in there.’
At that she bursts into tears. ‘I’m OK,’ she says, ‘Don’t mind me!’
Max and I bite down on laughter. Rosie is going to have to come to terms with the fact her body is in control and not the other way around. I hold the steering wheel with one hand and hers with the other.
‘I think the patient needs a long hot shower and nap.’
She wipes at her face. ‘And a slice of cake. For the baby.’
We laugh and the earlier tension I felt evaporates. I’m so glad it’s happy news and not the alternative. It’s probably not natural to think the worst like I do, but I just couldn’t bear to lose anyone else, especially Rosie. Soon, there’ll be a little baby in the mix! Everyone’s lives are marching on, while mine has stopped on the end pages where TJ left …
Chapter 16
Blois, Loire Valley
With our plans slightly skewed I head back to my van to absorb it all. Out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of Tori, who by the looks of it is only just getting up now. The day has been interminable, so much has happened and it’s not even lunchtime yet.
‘Aria! Where have you been?’
Hands in pockets I join her. ‘In town.’ Damn it, we didn’t discuss sharing the baby news, but I’m sure Max and Rosie need some time to digest it all before it gets around.
‘Doing what?’
‘Getting coffee.’
‘But Rosie makes coffee.’
‘So?’
‘So why go pay for it?’
‘Why not?’
‘Urgh, it’s like talking to a rock sometimes. Where is Rosie? And Max?’
‘They’re having a quiet day to themselves.’
‘But I thought we were off to Bordeaux today?’
‘Change of plans.’ I shrug. ‘Maybe tomorrow.’
She narrows her eyes. ‘I don’t get it. Rosie doesn’t change plans.’ She stabs the air with a finger. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Stomach bug, I’m afraid. Rosie’s got it bad. If I were you I’d stay well away. Highly contagious.’ I shake my head as if the memory pains me. ‘She’s been up all night with it. Let’s hope she feels better soon.’
Sure enough, Tori reels back. ‘And she went and had coffee?’
‘No, she went to the doctor.’
‘Well, why didn’t you just say that?’
‘You asked me where I’d been … not them.’
With a roll of her eyes that she doesn’t even try to hide she says, ‘What about Max? Is he sick?’
‘Head nurse today.’
She huffs and puffs like the big bad wolf. ‘So that leaves me with you?’
I pull my mouth to one side. ‘I’m fairly busy – those books won’t read themselves.’
‘Well, I expected a bit more, to be honest.’
‘Sorry.’ The very last thing I’d choose to do on a suddenly free sunshiny day is spend it with Tori.
‘You want a Pimm’s?’
I glance at my watch. ‘It’s a bit early for me.’
‘Could you be any more boring?’ Her mouth turns down.
‘Probably.’
‘Where’s that other guy gone?’
It’s my turn to narrow my eyes. ‘Which guy?’
‘The one who looks slightly lost, as if he’s not quite sure how he got here. Cute in a very shy bookish way.’
Jonathan!
‘Why?’
‘Why what?’
‘Why are you looking for him?’ I keep my voice light.
She folds her arms across her chest. ‘Well, who else am I going to hang out with? Why, Aria, is he off limits or something?’
I should have just denied knowing who she meant. ‘Of course not. But I’m fairly sure he’s gone. He was only here for an author talk for the one night.’
She tuts. ‘Shame. I’d have liked to get to know him better. I joined them last night in Max’s van after you rushed off, didn’t you know?’
‘Oh?’ She’s goading me and it’s hard to keep my expression serene but somehow I manage, silently telling myself she’s an immature child in an adult’s body.
‘Yes, Rosie had gone back to Poppy and you were probably reading about life rather than living it.’ She lets out a giggle and I roll my eyes.
‘You’re probably right. I do have more in common with fictional people.’ I give her a winning smile and take pleasure when I see her eyes darken.
She waves my words away. ‘Anyway, we had a few beers, and I’m sure we made a connection.’
I lift a brow. ‘Yet you didn’t know his name?’
‘We skipped past the small talk and went straight into the deeper stuff …’
I don’t believe her but my blood pressure spikes, I’m sure of it. ‘Sounds riveting.’
‘It was. You know when someone is into you, well you probably don’t, but he did this eye contact thing, this really intense sort of—’
I cut her off. ‘Oh, that. He dropped his contact lenses at the author talk, says he’s blind as a bat without them. Didn’t he mention it?’
OK, that’s a mean, horrible lie but I can’t help it.
‘No, I’m sure you’re wrong.’
‘I was there, I saw him on all fours. Patting down the carpet for the damn things. Why do you think I had to walk him back here? He couldn’t see, the poor man. How does one lose two contact lenses at the same time? But I suppose he was doing a lot of blinking what with all the photos being taken, all the flashlights going off and all, famous man he is. In such demand.’
Her face drops and I know I’ve won this round.
‘Well, it wasn’t just the eye contact of course. It was everything. The air hummed with promise …’
‘Right. Electrifying stuff. Anyway, I’d better push on, too much time in the real world sends me batty. Cheerio.’
She’s already looking past me into the distance where German Van Lifers Otto and Jörg appe
ar, walking back from the river, fishing poles propped against their shoulders. I give them a wave and then turn on my heel and flee. Why does the thought of Jonathan spending time with her annoy me so? It’s not jealousy, he’s free and clear to do whatever he wants. There’s nothing between us, aside from a drunken kiss, right?
It’s just that it’s Tori. I’d hate to see him with a snake like that. Perhaps if we were to cross paths again, I could subtly warn him? But surely he’s not likely to fall into the arms of someone like her? It’s not really my business though …
Then I think back to what Rosie said about Tori not quite fitting in and trying to be someone she’s not. She could very well be lovely under that surly, brash persona, but I doubt it. I think I’ve pegged her just right.
Normally I’d confide all this to Rosie but I don’t dare disturb her with such trivialities today. And that’s all they are – trivialities, right?
Back in my van I take out TJ’s diary hoping to feel connected to him, that his words ground me to this earth. I feel like I’m in flux, floating and soon I’ll drift away. It’s a strange feeling, and I can’t quite work out what’s changed to make it so. Perhaps it’s the new group, the new place. Everything seems up in the air, so changeable.
I’m so tired I just can’t shake the feeling something is wrong other than this flu that just won’t go. But I don’t dare tell Aria. She’d frog march me to the doctor and I’ll have to suffer a barrage of tests and all for what? To find out I’m low in vitamin B or something. Instead I take naps at lunchtime and hope my students don’t sense I’m not quite right. Maybe we need a holiday. I’ve always wanted to go to the Lake District.
Aria can read a book a day while she’s wrapped in my arms. I’ll hug her when she cries (she always cries, happy tears she says, when the girl gets the boy) and we’ll watch the moonlight shine on the water. That will be cure enough for me …
Chapter 17
Blois, Loire Valley
Our trip stalls with Rosie’s pregnancy news, but she won’t listen to reason. She wants to head to Bordeaux as planned, albeit a week behind schedule to get there for the book, food and wine festival. I’m not sure it’s such a good idea but I’m prepared to hear her out. A gaggle of Van Lifers and I have visited every garden, and chateau in Blois and the surrounding Loire Valley, Chambord being my favourite, but after a while they all blend into one and we make the joke, ‘NABC!!’ to one another which means not another bloody chateau. Maybe it is time to move on …
As I go to leave my van, I see a neatly wrapped package sitting on the step. A small envelope is tucked into it so I hastily open it, curious as to who it’s from. Has Mary reconsidered?
A,
I found this little gem in a bookshop yesterday and I thought of you. Well, not that you’re anything like Madame Bovary, of course, but I thought it might appeal to you, being a vintage edition (sadly not a first edition!) and quite beautiful. I love the scent of old books, the shape of them. The way their pages hold the essence of who came before as they patiently await the next step on their journey through many lives …
J
I smile and take a great big unladylike sniff of the precious tome, and it conjures memories of Madame Bovary herself. For some reason I haven’t actually read the classic but I recall the themes of the novel. I picture her beauty, feel her desperation, her need for passion, for wanting more. I’m transported back to that era, and for a brief moment in time, I’m her, throwing caution to the wind and acting on my desires.
If only … I quickly send Jonathan a thank-you message on Facebook and tell him I can’t wait to read it. I need to return the favour, but which book for the famous writer himself? While I walk to Rosie’s van, I contemplate a French writer who might appeal to him …
‘Knock, knock,’ I say and enter her van.
‘Back here,’ Rosie’s reply comes back softly. I move the pink curtain that partitions the living area from the bedroom.
‘How are you feeling?’ She’s still slightly green around the gills but gives me a big smile.
‘A little better.’
‘Liar.’
She gives me a watery smile. ‘You always can see right through me. I’m ready for the next part of the adventure. Bordeaux will be just the tonic.’
‘But, Rosie—’
‘No, honestly. Behind the wheel in Poppy I have a semblance of control, and the breeze blowing in will ease that fog I’m in.’
‘What does Max say?’
‘You’ll convince him.’
I blow out my cheeks. ‘Right, like that’s a cakewalk.’
‘It’ll be fine. But let’s share a pot of tea first? I’m starving but I don’t dare eat in case it makes me sick again. Tea first. That should help settle my stomach.’
‘Of course. Which tea?’
‘Sense and Sensibility, maybe I will absorb some of that too.’
I grin. ‘You’re perfectly sensible. Sometimes, life just has grander plans.’
I bustle around Rosie’s tiny kitchen which is still pristine even in her predicament. I balance the tea things and a tin of ginger biscuits and set them up on the end of her bed.
‘I’m so sorry for holding everyone up,’ she says, her face glum.
‘Don’t be, Rosie. What’s a week or two here and there? It’s all part of the journey.’
‘Yeah, I know. But I still feel bad.’
‘Please promise me you’ll stop worrying? Van life is all about the unexpected and there’s always bumps in the road, this one just happens to be a baby bump which makes it pretty bloody special, darling.’
‘Thanks, Aria.’ We sip tea and Rosie manages a few nibbles of the biscuit. ‘It’s still sinking in, I guess.’
‘What happens now with the medical side of things?’
‘Dr Benoit has given me a list of midwives to check in with along the route we mapped out previously. He’s rang ahead and explained what he calls our unusual circumstances, so I feel confident I’ll be in good hands, and of course I’ll research them—’
‘You mean investigate them as if you’re an FBI agent.’
She giggles. ‘Yes, if there’s any sniff of malpractice, I’ll find it.’
‘I have no doubt. Will you head back to the UK to have the baby when it’s time?’ My heart sinks, thinking I might lose Rosie on the journey, just after I found her. I’d understand, of course, but I’d be lonely if she and Max parked up for the duration and settled into normal everyday lives.
‘Yes, Max and I discussed it and we think that’s best, maybe leave France around the six-month mark or so? We’re not going to stop travelling, we’re just going to be closer to home and healthcare. You’ll come too, won’t you?’
My heart lifts. ‘Of course. I’ll be with you every step of the way.’
Relief shines in her eyes too and I know she’s probably felt the same as me, that we don’t want to leave each other no matter how our circumstances change. ‘I caught Jonathan arriving early this morning … must have been visiting Max?’
‘I found a book from him on my step this morning.’
‘Oh, that’s it then. How thoughtful of him.’
‘Yes,’ I say, not being drawn.
‘He’s such a lovely guy. Such.’
‘He is, isn’t he? He friended me on Facebook and I noticed he volunteers at a dog shelter as a dog hugger!’
She gasps. ‘He does not!’
‘He does!’
‘You’ve always wanted to volunteer at a dog shelter!’
I have but being on the road put limits on such things. And truthfully I don’t think I could walk into a shelter and walk out without one of those little fur babies who need just one person to love them. Lots of Van Lifers have pets but it can restrict the journey because many campsites refuse to allow animals and also National Parks often ban pets in order to protect wildlife. It’s a big responsibility when you don’t know what tomorrow will bring.
‘That cements it then! I shall m
arry the man!’
‘People have married with far less in common than that!’
‘Oh god, Rosie, I was joking.’
She gives me a puzzled look. ‘Right. Well you should add it to your list.’
‘What list?’
‘Aren’t you making a list of his attributes as you go?’
I stifle a laugh. ‘No.’
‘Well therein lies the problem. You, a romance reader aficionado, should know better. Did you want me to scribe it for you?’
I smile. ‘No, Rosie, I’m good. I’ve got it all up here.’ I tap the side of my head while I think I’d give anything to see Rosie’s list about Max. I bet there are some doozeys on there.
‘Anyway, back to our famous writer,’ Rosie says. ‘He had this dreamy look in his eyes … It made me wonder why?’
I can’t shake the thought of him and it pains me so I anchor myself to the past and say, ‘Not sure, maybe he had a full eight hours’ sleep?’ Her eyes twinkle and I know she’s never going to let it go so I deflect to my next problem. ‘Anyway, I emailed TJ’s mum.’
‘Wow, when?’
I explain what I wrote and when I sent it.
‘Have you heard back?’
I nod, and tell Rosie all about Mary’s reply.
‘Wow, Aria, I’m really sorry it didn’t go the way you expected but you shouldn’t have to feel bad about following his wishes.’
‘Yeah, I’ve always thought so, but the more time goes by I understand. She’s his mum and she wanted him right by her side. I do understand. I still wouldn’t change what I did, but I guess I can see why she feels as though it’s all my fault. There’s no one else to blame, TJ is gone.’
Rosie touches her teeny tiny belly, her eyes welling up. ‘Yeah, gosh, what you both went through …’ Her words freeze on her lips while she composes herself. ‘You and Mary could still be a real support for one another. You both know best just how it feels to lose the person you love most.’
‘That’s it, isn’t it? We could have been there for each other when no one else was.’ Having someone to share the burden of grief with would have been life changing.
‘There’s still time, Aria.’
Aria's Travelling Book Shop Page 13
