Did he have consideration when he went off on hot dates during our marriage? I don’t think so. He winds me up so much that I find an emoji of the middle finger and consider sending it. However, I decide that I am not going to send that to my girls’ dad, much as I would love to at this moment in time. I tell myself I am better than that.
Instead, I remind him that I am a grown woman, and we are now divorced. I have reassured the girls that I am completely fine and that if I want to go off with a skipper exploring the French Riviera then I shall. Although, as I type it, I can hardly believe what I am saying. I think back to all those days I sobbed my heart out and could hardly get out of bed, when I was utterly devastated that the man I had trusted had been having an affair whilst I looked after everyone else’s needs, including his.
‘You ready to set sail?’ says Elias, interrupting my memories of a terrible time in my life.
‘Absolutely.’
‘Brilliant. I’ve managed to secure us a berth at a gorgeous port.’
‘Sounds exciting. Ahoy, shipmate!’ As I say it, I remember that I am not very well-versed with this terminology, and it’s probably best I stay quiet.
I join Elias on the bridge and watch as he organises everything to sail away. I would end up overboard if I tried to lean over the way he does. I really can’t imagine it is doing his knee too much good either, having to do all these manual tasks to get the boat out of the marina. He seems to be in his element, though.
As we sail away, we slowly pass yachts heading into the port, no doubt eager to take up our mooring. Even since the past day or so, it seems to be getting busier here.
The views of Monaco Old Town and the Rock of Monaco become a blur as we sail further out and head towards Port de Beaulieu. Elias tells me it is only five nautical miles away, but I daren’t ask how nautical miles work. I have never been very good with maths, so whatever he says will probably go over my head. Instead, I try to look intelligent and as though I understand.
I offer to make us a coffee, and as I head into the galley, I see what he means about being messy. At least it shows he is human. I was beginning to think he was too perfect. I tidy everything up, and finally, with everything spick and span, I head back onto the bridge with our coffee.
As the wind blows in my hair and the spray of the sea splashes against my skin, I can’t help grinning at Elias. I am so happy that I almost forget about work but force myself to remember that I promised I would write up a chapter of the book before we reach our destination. So, I leave Elias with his coffee and take out my laptop as I sit astride a sun lounger on the lower deck.
I gaze into the sky as if I will find the words I need written up there, but I realise that the universe doesn’t have to provide me with creativity. I have plenty of inspiration since meeting Elias, and I type so fast that before I even realise it, the boat has slowed down, and we have reached our first port of call.
I make sure to save all my work and rush up to Elias to see if I can do anything to help.
‘Just keep an eye starboard if you will,’ he says.
I rush to my left.
‘Right,’ laughs Elias.
‘I’m so sorry. Clearly not cut out to be a shipmate.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I’d say you’re a very good shipmate,’ says Elias with a grin.
My cheeks glow at his remark. I hope he isn’t just referring to what we got up to this morning.
With the boat safely moored at Beaulieu-sur-Mer, Elias takes my hand as we stroll through the pretty marina, surrounded by imposing villas.
‘What a beautiful place. So, who owns all these yachts?’
‘It’s mostly locals. They only have a handful of berths for visitors.’
‘Wow, imagine living here. Like, this is your life… Some people are so lucky.’
‘Yeah. It’s one of my favourites. I’ve always loved this place. I never thought I’d be sailing a yacht into it one day, though.’
‘You came here before you sailed?’
‘Yeah, we used to bring the car and drive through the French Riviera every summer. We never stayed anywhere fancy, though. To be honest, there was a campsite, and we travelled from there.’
‘Oh, I went camping once in France in the Eighties. It didn’t stop raining. The fields were flooded, and the shower block filled with mud.’
‘Yeah, I remember those days. Fortunately, campsites have improved over the years. Of course, you can’t guarantee the weather, though. Although it’s perfect today.’
I couldn’t agree more as the sun is blazing down on us. Thankfully, the light breeze keeps it cool enough to walk around without it feeling uncomfortable.
‘It really is the perfect day. It’s like I can hear that Lou Reed song in my head.’
