‘I’ll do that.’ Becky chewed the end of her index finger for several seconds before looking at Sandy, a strained look on her face. ‘That’s what last week’s exercise about childhood memories helping your writing was all about, wasn’t it?’
Sandy nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘I don’t have many good memories of my childhood,’ Becky said quietly. ‘I certainly don’t want to revisit that time of my life.’
‘I’m genuinely sorry to hear that, Becky.’
‘Thanks. I’m sure other children had it as bad, if not worse.’ Becky gave a small shrug. ‘I prefer people not knowing about my background or where I come from. I truly enjoy being involved in social media, being known and accepted as an influencer – I get to go to the most amazing places and the goody bags are fabulous.’ Becky laughed before she added soberly, ‘I don’t think dredging up memories of my first sixteen years would be good for me personally.’ She gave Sandy a tremulous smile. ‘I think I’d rather stay in the life I’ve created for myself. Thanks for listening,’ and she turned to walk away.
Sandy stared after her. Becky’s eyes before she’d turned away had looked suspiciously bright. She hoped Becky wasn’t on the verge of tears.
* * *
After the informal session with Sandy, Liz went up to her room and opened her laptop, ready to spend the morning writing. It felt so good to be creating again and she’d soon have enough written to show to Sandy. Normally, she didn’t show her first drafts to anyone until she was reasonably happy and only then did she send them to her editor, but she felt honour-bound to show at least a few pages to Sandy.
At twelve thirty, she closed the laptop with a happy sigh – now for lunch and a chat with the others before walking into town to meet Guy.
Guy was waiting outside the entrance to the garden cafe and her heart skipped a little beat when she saw him. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said, as he leant in to greet her with a couple of cheek kisses.
‘No, you aren’t late, I was early,’ Guy said. ‘Marie is expecting us, so tea will be served immediately.’
There were other couples already seated at various tables dotted around the garden and a few were clearly locals as several people raised their hand to Guy in acknowledgement when they saw him.
Marie came over to ask which tea they would like, Liz said Earl Grey please and Guy asked for breakfast. Within minutes, the table was full of scones, sandwiches and cakes and the two pots of tea.
‘What a spread,’ Liz said. ‘I hope we can do justice to it. Before I forget, your tiramisu last evening was delicious.’
Guy smiled at her.
As they tucked into the sandwiches – amongst which Liz discovered a new favourite combination, cucumber with cream cheese and a hint of horseradish – they chatted about a host of different inconsequential subjects until Guy said, ‘Tell me six things about yourself that you think I should know.’
‘Okay, as long as you realise it’s your turn afterwards,’ Liz said. ‘One, I don’t like curry and never eat it. Two, I have an irrational phobia about clowns, they frighten me and I just don’t find them, or slapstick humour, funny. Three, um well, I can’t bear wearing wet socks or shoes. Four, oranges make me sneeze. Five, I read the last two pages of any book I read first. Six, I dislike being in a crowd of people, so I avoid them as much as I can. Which one are you laughing at?’ she said. ‘The orange thing?’
Guy shook his head. ‘No, although that is funny. But the book thing. Do you write the ending of your books first as well?’
‘No, but when I’m reading, I like to know that the characters I meet in the first few pages are still going to be there at the end. Your turn.’
‘Okay, here goes. One, I’ve got funny feet, my second toe is bigger than my first toe. Two, I hum when I’m happy. Three, I don’t like secret surprises.’ Guy shrugged as Liz looked at him. ‘I like the anticipation of knowing something nice is going to happen before it happens. Four, I love fast cars and F1. Monaco Grand Prix is my favourite time of the year. Five, I love curry – maybe I’ll make it my mission in life to convert you. And last but not least, number six is I’m too impatient to stand in a queue of more than one person.’
Laughing together at the answers set the tone for a relaxed afternoon.
After they’d laughed and eaten their way through too many gooey cakes, had second and third cups of teas, Guy paid the bill and suggested they went for a walk around Port Vauban. ‘Work some of the calories off.’
‘Some of these yachts are seriously impressive,’ Liz said, standing to stare at a particularly beautiful and expensive-looking one.
‘Sadly for us, security is so stringent these days, it’s impossible to walk Billionaires’ Quay which is where the billionaires, obviously, and Russian oligarchs moor their yachts,’ Guy said.
‘Do you sail? Or have a boat?’ Liz asked.
‘No. Never been interested in boats. All I ever wanted to do was to train as a chef, have my own restaurant and own a top-of-the-range car.’
‘Chef – tick; own restaurant – tick; car…?’ Liz said, using her fingers to tick off the first two and raising her eyebrows at Guy for the third one.
He gave her a small shrug. ‘Tick – it’s in the garage.’
‘You’ve successfully done what you set out to do then, congratulations,’ Liz said. ‘So what’s next for you?’
‘Now there’s a question,’ Guy said, sighing. ‘A question I don’t yet have the answer to.’ There was a pause. ‘I do know, though, that I like you and would like to spend more time with you before the retreat finishes. How do you feel about that?’
