Read Away From the Spotlight Online
Authors: Tamara Carlisle
Pam had
mentioned to
Isabel that I was dating Will MacKenzie. S
ince
my secret was out
, over dinner at a local café
that first night
, I felt like I could ask about whether I was in store for the same reception I had
received
in Ireland.
Isabel replied
in perfect English, but with a beautiful French accent
, “Our main source for that kind of news is a weekly magazine. I didn’t see anything with you in it
this week
. You may be gone before
your pictures
are published here
. I think you
a
re
probably
safe
for now
.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Since I had broached the topic of Will, Isabel asked what he was like.
Before I could answer
Isabel’s question, my cell phone rang. It was Will.
“How’s Paris?”
“Beautiful. We’re out with Isabel, Pam’s friend we’re staying with, having dinner. We’re not far from the Eiffel Tower.”
“Any more problems with the press?”
“Isabel tells me I’m safe for now.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
“I think she’s a fan of yours.” Isabel looked at me
,
mortified.
“Would it make you happy if I said
‘
hello
’
to her?”
“Actually, that would be nice of you. Here goes.”
I handed the phone to Isabel. “He wants to say hello.”
With wide eyes, she took the phone, “Hello . . . yes . . . my pleasure . . . of course, anytime . . . thank you . . . here she is.” She smiled and handed the phone to Pam
to my chagrin
.
While Pam spoke to Will, I asked Isabel, “What did he say to you?”
“He thanked me for my hospitality in having you and Pam stay with me, and said that
,
next time you and he are in Paris, he would like to meet me in person to thank me. Then he asked to speak with Pam. He is very nice, isn’t he?”
“Yes
, I
think so. Don’t ask me how I got so lucky.”
Pam
then
handed the phone back to me.
“Will?”
“I’m here.”
“What did you say to Pam?”
“I was just checking to make sure you weren’t understating things
there
. She told me you were hassled in Dublin.”
I glared at Pam.
She looked guilty in response.
“It was no big deal, just a drunk in a pub
. I survived the experience,
”
I said nonchalantly.
“I worry about you and I don’t want you to not tell me things because you worry about
me
.”
“I don’t.
I just didn’t think it was important enough to mention.”
“Just be careful and tell me these things. If you need me, I
’
m only a short plane ride away.”
“I’ll be fine. You concentrate on your movie and don’t worry about me. I’ll see you soon.
I love you.
”
“I love you
more than anything
.”
During dinner, I gave Pam a hard time about providing Will with unnecessary information that would
only
serve to
upset him.
There was always the worry at the back of my mind that
, if the publicity surrounding us got too out of hand, Will would decide that I was too much trouble.
Our few days in Paris
passed
with
out issue
.
Pam and I
spent the
next day at Versailles and the evening with Isabel at a Left Bank
c
afé. The following
day, we spent time at th
e
Louvre
and the
Musée
D’Orsay
. Although I had been to the Louvre on my previous trips to Paris, I couldn’t get enough of it.
And
I had always wanted to see
the vast collections
of
Impressionists and Pos
t-Impressionists at the
Musée
d
’
Orsay
. T
hey were amazing.
Pam did not have my penchant for art and much preferred Versail
les and its sprawling grounds.
We tried to do a little shopping
here and there
too
, but Paris was very expensive. I did manage to buy some silly
risqué
lingerie to wear for Will if I could summon the courage. Pam laughed hysterically as she couldn’t imagine someone like
me
wearing something like
that
.
That night, we thanked and said our goodbyes to Isabel
and
took the
overn
ight train to Nice, arriving very early on Thursday morning. Although we shared a couchette with some other travelers, it was much more comfort
able than the floor in Paris. For that, I was grateful.
As it was early morning when we arrived in Nice, we left our luggage in lockers and grabbed some breakfast in the terminal to wait for everything to open
for the day
. We would return later to retrieve our bags and check into
the
p
ension
that would be ou
r home for the next two nights.
We
enjoyed our
time in Nice and continued to have no repetition of wha
t had happened in Ireland
.
The first day, w
e rented mopeds and
rode
along
the
coast
as far as Cannes
. We spent time in the ocean at the various beaches along the way although it was bizarre to us that there was no sand. It was really uncomfortable treading on the
hot
stones
sometimes.
I managed to get pretty sunburned as I had forgotten to put suns
creen on my thighs. With short-
shorts on and my legs sitting high on the moped, the sun hit them pretty hard.
I was going to hurt for a few days.
The
second
day, we took a trip down to Monte Carlo
to
find that we were too poor and not dressed well enough to gamble.
We vis
ited the palace instead.
On Saturday,
our third and final day,
before leaving on the
evening
train to Milan, we
slept in and
had a lazy
day
wandering around
Nice
capped by
an
ear
ly dinner in a café up in town.
My phon
e beeped with a text from Will.
“Hope u have fun in Italy. Wish I could b w/u.
ILY
.”
I
asked
Pam
to
take a picture of me
seated
at the café
from
far enough away that you could see my surroundings.
Although I didn’t consider myself very photogenic, the picture
didn’t turn out to
o
badly so I sent it i
n response with a note, “Wish u
were here. Miss u &
ILY
2
.”
I received a prompt response, “I’m jealous. Have fun.”
I read the text to Pam.
“Are you having fun?” Pam asked as I appeared wrapped up
in my text messaging with Will.
“Absolutely. I’m not pining too much, am I?” I hoped the answer was “No”
since
I had taken great pains not to appear to be pining
as much as I really was.
“No. Not really.”
“Good because I’ve been looking forward to this trip forever and I really want to live it up.”
I was psyching myself up.
“Then let’s do it.”
We
left to meet
the train which was going to get us into Milan late
th
at night. We were planning on staying
in Milan
two nights, but only one day as we were taking an ea
rly train on Monday to Venice.
During our brief stay in Milan, we visited Il Duomo, the most
magnificent
church I had ever seen
,
and the Santa Maria della Grazie church to see “The Last Supper.”
We received a few stares
during our visit
, but it could have been that, as two
red
head
s together, we stood out in Italy. I chose to believe that was the case
as opposed to my newfound
tabloid
fame.
After
a
day of sightseeing, we
enjoyed
a leisurely dinner at a café before getting
some
sleep
f
or
ou
r early train the next morning.
Pam and I
arrived in Venice mid-morning
on Monday
. We were planning on spending one night
t
here and leaving the
following
night on an overnight train for Munich.
Although I had visited Venice
on a previous trip to Italy, Pam had not so she really wanted to
take
a gondola ride while we were there. I tried to
maintain
a smile on my face, but
found it
difficult
because it was a
very romantic
thing to do
and
it
remin
ded me of two other recent boat trips
with Will in Cambridge and London. Thankfully, Pam was not facing me
during the ride
and could not
see my struggles
.
I took a
camera
p
hoto
of the
Bridge of Sighs
with a view of another gondola ahead of us and sent it to Will with a note, “Wish u
were here. Tho
it would b hard
2
do what we did on the Thames ;-)
ILY
.”
I was hoping that I would
receive
a return message soon, but no
such
luck.
Will
must have been in the middle of filming. It wasn’t until we were
on our way
to the Piazza San Marco after lunch that I received a re
ply
.
“
U expect me
2
b able 2 concentrate on wk now after ur txt? I have 2 images in my head now, 1st of us on the Thames
&
2
n
d of u
&
me attempting it on a
g
ondola. Seems like u’ve been gone forever. Miss u.
ILY
.”
I responded, “Sorry. I had & still have same images. I’m enjoying them. Miss u &
ILY
.”
“Enjoying them 2.
ILY
.”
The next day,
Pam and I enjoyed
a lazy day shopping for Murano glass
gifts
on the Rialto Bridge
, including one for Will,
and wandering around
the streets of
Venice before
catching the
overnight
night train to Munich.
We had two days and one night in Munich, staying at a
p
ension
near the Deutsches Museum.
Our trip to Munich meant a lot of beer
: b
eer for lunch and dinner a
s well as
throughout the day and night
.
S
hopping meant beer steins as gifts.
We
watched
the Glockenspiel in Marienplatz
and
its
intricate works as the clock struck at the hour
, visited the Deutsche Museum and, of course,
spent time in
as many beer
halls as we could find.