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 tothe marina so you find it okay. Boss says he’s happy for you to lookaround!
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 Anaïs Anaïs 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 Janeis 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.
