“Have Mellie andAlbert ever…?” he asks when we’ve been on the road for a while.
“Been romantically involved? No. I always thought they’d make a great couple, but he never got over the loss of his wife. She died about thirty years ago and he hasn’t opened himself up to anyone since.”
“I can understand that,” he says.
“Because of Eve?”
He nods. “And my mum.”
I can’t accept that he’s closed off to love. It’s raw for him rightnow, but I bet he’ll meet someone else one day and fall head over heels. He’s only twenty-seven: he has his whole life in front of him.
Raphaël is waiting for us when we arrive. He’s wearing a maroon hoodie and is nursing a cup of something hot, but he comes out of the reception hut to say hi and to loan us a waterproof barrel for all our belongings.
It’s so nice of him to do this. Étienne said that he’s a good friend—“like a brother”—and added that he fixes his van for free.
“Do you want sunglasses straps?” Raphaël asks me. “So you don’t lose them if you fall in?”
“Am I going to fall in?” I ask Étienne with alarm.
“Not likely if you do what I tell you to do, but let’s take some in case.”
He and Raphaël exchange knowing smiles and Raphaël disappears back inside the hut.
“I’m starting to feel nervous now,” I say.
“What’s new?” he asks.
The look in his eyes makes me feel like I’ve gone downhill over rapids, but I’m still standing on solid ground.
Raphaël returns and hands me some brand-new sunglasses straps that he refuses to let me pay for and then we wander down to the bank where dozens of orange kayaks are stacked up beside a single canary-yellow one—it’s the same kayak that Étienne had ten years ago.
“Is this what you and Eve used to train in?” I ask.
“No.” He seems entertained at the thought. “She had her own kayak. I have a solo too. This is just for fun.”
He secures the barrel at the back and I help him maneuver theboat into the water, taking a paddle from Raphaël with a thanks and a see you later.
The river is wide and shallow at this point and although it tumbles over a gazillion rocks, giving the appearance of rapids, it’s not deep enough to keep the boat afloat. We have to carry it until we’re right at the edge of rougher waters. My nerves ratchet up as Étienne holds the kayak steady while I get settled in the front seat.
“You remember what to do?” he asks. “Paddle fast. I’ll steer.”
“Okay.”
“Ready?”
I nod.No.
“Let’s go.” He climbs in behind me and we are immediatelyoff. “Paddle!” he commands as the boat veers to the left, heading for a boulder protruding from the water.
I feel a rush of adrenaline as he steers us away from it. The bottom of the boat grazes the tops of other rocks and then suddenly it drops at the front as though we’re on a log ride at a theme park. Water splashes in over the bow and I gasp, sure that we’re about to capsize, but miraculously, the boat levels out and then all I can see in front of us are smooth, clear waters.
I burst out laughing.
“Okay?” he asks with amusement from behind me.
“Yeah, those rapids were fun.” Even if my navy wrap skirt and red T-shirt are damp.
“Wait until the next ones.”
