‘Hold on to me,’ he said, taking my arms and pulling them round his chest. I clasped my hands together and could feel hard muscle underneath his T-shirt. Heat emanated through the cotton, and there was a rush of pure adrenaline through my veins as he revved the engine.
And we rode. Inland. The air was hot on my legs as he drove fast across rolling hills. It was breathtaking. We passed rows and rows of grapevines in impossibly straight lines. I’d always loved the French vineyards. On our holidays when I was younger, I used to look out the car window at the perfect spaces between each of them and feel immediately calmer. We drove through beautiful little towns that looked like they’d come straight out of another century.
And then we stopped in one of them. Felix parked on the street, pulled off his helmet and helped me off the Vespa.
‘Oh my God,’ I said, exhilarated. ‘That was amazing.’
‘You are hungry?’ he asked.
I nodded as I removed my helmet. ‘Very.’ Felix took my hand, and I let him lead me to a little café on a corner that barely looked open. I sat down at a small table outside, and Felix disappeared indoors, emerging a couple of minutes later with two glass bottles of Coke and a menu.
He sat down beside me and leaned in close as we looked at the menu together.
‘Salade de chèvre chaud,le poulet Basquaise et le Gâteau Basque.’ He ran his finger down the French dishes and I leaned into his warm shoulder as I listened. ‘It is a set menu, this is OK?’ He looked at me and I sat up and looked straight back at him.
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘I’m starving. What isle poulet Basquaise? Chicken and …’ I shrugged and waited for him to fill it in.
‘Your accent. It was perfect.Poulet Basquaiseis chicken with peppers and tomatoes. AndGâteau Basqueisles cerises. Cherries!’ Felix smiled. ‘I will order.’
‘Sounds amazing,’ I said.
Felix disappeared into the restaurant.
‘Alors, tell me about you. I want to know more,’ Felix said when he got back. His brown eyes were warm. Interested. ‘You are enjoying Biarritz?’
‘I think so,’ I said. ‘Although I’ve only seen the campsite and the beach so far.’
‘Ah, but there is so much more! I will show you!’ Felix smiled and reached for my hand across the table. And I didn’t pull it away. I let my hand relax into his. ‘You are OK? There is a sadness in your eyes.’
I looked into Felix’s eyes. I thought I’d been doing a good job of hiding the emptiness.
‘My ex-boyfriend is with someone else. Someone I thought was my friend,’ I admitted.
‘I am sorry. That is … hard,non?’
‘Oui.’ I tried to smile, but felt like I might cry. ‘But it’s fine, it wasn’t serious or anything.’ I took my hand back and pulled a curl gently, twisting it round my finger before letting go.Saying the words out loud, it dawned on me: I’d just admitted the truth.
‘But it is still painful?’
And I couldn’t lie to him. Even though I wanted to brush away his words, the sincerity in his eyes, his face, made it impossible.
‘Yeah.’ I looked down at my hands as he took them in his, bringing them to his lips to kiss. And that made me smile.
The waiter arrived with our goat’s cheese salads and set them in front of us. ‘Bon appétit.’
‘Merci,’ we both said, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics. Places in Biarritz that Felix wanted to show me, snippets of our lives flowing so easily it was like we’d known each other forever. Then, over our main course, Felix mentioned that he was going to study literature at university but had deferred his place.
‘How come you want to stay here?’ I asked, interested.
‘My mother. I just wanted to be close to home for a while,’ he said, and my eyes followed his hand to his hair, pushing it back, watching it fall back into place in thick waves.
‘Is she sick?’ I asked. I hoped he didn’t think I was being rude. Since Rue was born, hospitals had just become an integral part of my life, and I was comfortable talking about illness and disability. But I guess that didn’t apply to everyone.
‘Ahnon,’ he said, then hesitated. ‘I am sorry if I made it sound that way. And sometimes I think it is me? I worry that she will be sad if I leave.’ He turned his head like he was embarrassed, then found my eyes again. ‘It is not very sexy.’
‘I think it’s really sweet,’ I replied. I reached for his handthis time, and he watched as I stroked the back of it with my thumb.
‘Sweet.’ He laughed. ‘Tell me more aboutyourfamily.’ He picked up a piece ofbaguetteand ate some.
