I snapped a few pictures as Rebecca was dunked into the white foam
and pulled the camera away.
Who did Doug know here?
As Rebecca was dunked once more, I leaned in but Berne was waiting
for me. Before I could think, her mouth had reclaimed every forgotten sense. I
had my hands in her hair as she reminded me exactly what I was missing.
Every second, so raw with emotion.
Berne broke free from me and nipped at my bottom lip before
pulling away completely as Rebecca resurfaced.
“What was that for?” My voice was hoarse, my blood thumped a
celebratory rhythm in my ears.
“I need a reason?”
No. Nope, not one. I placed the camera in the bag, did anything
not to be recaptured by those eyes. Somewhere in the rapids, I seemed to have
lost my sense of control.
“I . . . well . . . you are supposed to be with—”
Berne silenced me with another fleeting kiss. “This is
my
river,
oui
?”
My resistance was pathetic. “I guess it is.”
“When you are on my river,” Berne brushed her lips against mine
once more, “you must pay the toll.”
In that case, why argue? “Don’t need to ask me twice—”
A load of water splashed over me. Rebecca and Babs sported
matching wide grins.
“Oi, cut it out,” Rebecca said. “I leave you for two minutes!”
“Did you enjoy the rapids?” I asked, ignoring the sudden urge to
dive out of the boat and swim away from the heat rising in my cheeks. I was the
worst fiancé in history. Stick me in a boat with a French woman and I was a
floozy, just like Rebecca said, a brazen hussy!
“I gotta say, I
love
her driving this thing.” Rebecca
tapped the side of the boat. “She’s like a mad thing.”
“
Like
a mad thing?” I smiled at Babs who was eying me
suspiciously. Yes, I know, I was an awful fiancé. I was meant to be mad with
Berne, meant to be getting married, meant to be straight and loyal. “I would
say there’s no
like
in it, she
is
one.”
“And proud of it no doubt.” Rebecca’s knuckles were still white on
the boat. Berne was still waiting for me to look at her and Babs eyes felt like
laser beams.
“Er . . . anyone fancy lunch. I’m starving.”
Rebecca rubbed her stomach and nodded. “Sounds like a plan. You
enjoy the rapids?” She smiled at me. “You look as dry as I feel.”
“Berne likes to . . .” Every answer seemed open to innuendo. I
didn’t do innuendo. Was I really thinking along those lines? Oh wonderful. I
was not only a floozy but turning into a teenage boy, like Rebecca. “It’s an
adventure,” I managed.
“Certainly looked it,” Rebecca said with a grin. “So much for mad
and unforgiving, huh?”
“That
is
me mad and unforgiving.”
Rebecca raised her eyebrows. “If that’s you mad, what happens when
she does something you like . . .”
Rebecca grinned at Berne who wiggled her eyebrows.
I stared pointedly at the cliffs to our right. “I don’t know what
you mean. Not one idea.”
Chapter Fourteen
WE HAULED ONE boat on top of the other upside down and placed a
blanket on top to create our lunch bar. Berne spread out the sandwiches and
other goodies. She was magical with food. The woman made it impossible not to
love her. Who could be angry with someone who turned a simple roll into
something that should be served in Michelin star restaurants?
To attempt some kind of decorum, I went and sat by myself. It
unnerved me how I’d given in so quickly. Yes, I had admitted to myself that I
wasn’t
in
love with Doug but did that really give me any right to go
drooling over Berne? What did that say to her about me? I
couldn’t
be
with her and yet here I was acting like I’d never been away. My heart thumped
as if it had woken up from a long doze. My palms were clammy, my body felt as
though I’d been plugged in on high power and everything felt brighter.
Experts, like the ones I’d seen when I came back from France the
first time, had told me it was simply the love drug. They reminded me that I
was just a bunch of chemicals whizzing around driving me to procreate. That my
entire existence was merely to breed. What a load of old codswallop. I had
bought it as much as I bought the fact that men were just acting out of impulse
to be cavemen when they were idiots.
If we were just here to breed then why did we like painting pretty
patterns on walls? Plus, I’d never seen a monkey erect a shrine and try for
spiritual awakening.
All that being said, science nor any kind of counselling could
explain why, all these years later, it was still Berne who stirred every part
of me. Why
only
she had ever done so. Honestly, I was akin to a eunuch .
. . No, that wasn’t quite right . . . Oh bother. I was just not full of
hormones like Rebecca.
I sat chomping on my baguette, wondering how I’d got from food, to
monkeys, to eunuchs in one thought process. Babs wandered over and I was sure
that I was about to get lambasted. I ripped off a chunk with my teeth so at
least I wouldn’t have to answer.
“If I did not know better, I would think that you came here with
another reason than the one you say,
non
?”
Here it came.
I chewed, pointing to my mouth.
“What better way to earn back Berne’s trust than to have her
paddle you down your memories?”
That sounded very calculating and involved all sorts of forward
planning. Babs must have thought I had changed my personality entirely. Cunning
took focus and effort, and well, I couldn’t even pack my suitcase.
“Do not look at me that way. I hear you say you cannot do these
things,
mais
, I remember.” She tapped her nose. “I remember how you
helped me back then. I remember how easy it was for you.”
I swallowed my chunk and frowned at Babs. “When was this?”
“I was in London, you met me, you took me around that weekend.”
I grinned. That was an awesome weekend. Babs had been teaching at
some posh arty college for the week and I wanted to show her all the treats of
London that tourists wouldn’t ever see. Babs and Berne had always made France
so much fun, I wanted to do the same for her.
“You count showing you around a city help?”
“
Oui
. You knew who to talk to for tickets to the match,
non
?”
“That’s because my dad is a member of the tennis club. It wasn’t
me. He was delighted I’d asked him.” Not only that, we’d got the full five star
treatment. It had been a great day on centre court, not that I knew what was
going on but Babs did. I whooped when she did. The strawberries with cream over
the top, I knew
exactly
what to do with.
“You were efficient beyond words. Anything I wanted, you got. Now
you act like you cannot do a thing.” Babs put her hands on her hips. Even in
tiny red shorts, a blue tank top, and bright yellow floatation vest, she still
looked fashionable. I wasn’t sure how she did it.
“I was young then, fearless. I have obligations now.”
She flapped her vest out of the way, looking like detectives stood
on TV. “What fills you with fear so?”
It was a relief that she was more curious than angry. “Losing her .
. . losing me . . . waking up years from now regretting everything.”
I shoved more baguette into my mouth. Why had I gone and said
that?
“What would you regret more, spending your life with the woman you
adore?” She smiled at me, motioning over to Berne who sat soaking up the sun,
head hung back exposing her long neck. “And do not tell me that you do not.”
I cleared my throat. She had me there.
“Or,” she leaned in, a frown wrinkling her perfect brow, “spending
your life with a man you do not love?”
“Or,” I said around my mouthful, “I could leave him, alienate
everyone who loves me, move over here only for Berne to find out that I’m not
such a wonderful person, and end up penniless, alone, and cleaning toilets on a
campsite.”
Sucking in the breath after my diatribe, I again wanted to take
back my words. I’d said too much. I’d kept everything in when I was in London
and now look at me? I was like one of those crazy women on chat shows.
Next thing Rebecca would storm over and tell me she was my
mother’s sister, or something along those lines. I watched far too much daytime
television.
Babs cocked her head. “Your family would turn away from you?”
“Oh yeah.” I shoved more bread in my mouth. Stop talking, woman,
shut it.
“And if they loved her, how would your fears be then?”
They
wouldn’t
love her ever. I knew that. She was a woman
and she was a lesbian and she was not in any way part of a golf club. I doubted
my mother would even like a man who wasn’t part of the golf club. What was it
with golf? “Babs, I love you, please know that, but Berne spent one year with
me when I was a carefree teenager. She
thinks
she loves me but I’m not
eighteen and I’m not carefree.”
“
Non
,” Babs said. “You are thirty-one and you are lost.”
I had no idea why she was bothering to tell me that, I
knew
that already. “I have no redeemable features that make it worth her while.” I
put my hands over Babs’s lips. “Listen to me. I adore her and that’s
unconditional.” The truth of that sunk in with my words and stung. “Loving her
like that means that I want what will make her life the happiest.”
Babs nodded at me like I was a dense child. “Being with you.”
I shook my head. “No, being with me means that she won’t get to
live the high life in Marseille with Vivienne or join the gendarmerie when her
father sells the business.” Not feeling quite as hungry now, I wrapped the
baguette back up. “Being with me means that she’ll spend her whole life trying
to take care of me as I’m useless.”
“Where has this loathing come from?” Babs’s frown made my already
churning stomach roll.
I turned to walk back towards the others who were chatting over
the boat-bar. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Babs touched my hand. “When you are ready, you know where to find
me.”
I offered her a smile. I doubted it showed in my eyes though, I
felt miserable. I was up and down like an emotional yo-yo.
“So, you ready for the nuddies?” Rebecca asked, flashing a cocky
grin my way. At least someone was having a whale of a time.
“We aren’t joining them,” I said. “Beached lobster is unbecoming.”
“Ouch,” Rebecca muttered. “Who sizzled your stew?”
I rolled my eyes.
“You did not worry before.”
Everyone turned to Berne and her cheeky smile. Wonderful. I
wondered how long it would take her to fill Rebecca in on that one.
“She’s just being funny.” I glared Berne’s way. “Aren’t you?”
Berne’s smile slid up one side, her eyes twinkling. “You were the
one who wanted to try it back then,
non
?”
“Nope.” I tried to look for something to do.
Could I wade down a river the whole way? If I started now, I could
make it to Saint Martin by the time the blush wore off.
“Pippa Saunders!” Rebecca’s mouth hung open.
“Fine. It was part of the experience.” I fiddled with the zip on
my float-vest. “I was with Berne. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen me naked
before.”
Even saying the word naked sounded wrong on my tongue.
“
Oui
, and someone had to protect you from the admirers,
non
?”
“More like the other way round.”
Rebecca looked from me to Berne like she was watching a Wimbledon
match. “There were admirers?”
“Not the naturists.” I zipped and unzipped my vest for something
to do. “The boys in the boats floating past.”
“I’ll say!” Rebecca looked at Babs who smiled. “You really did
know another woman.”
Berne lifted her chin as if she was proud of it. “She still lurks
inside.”
“Good luck finding her,” I mumbled and felt the sudden sting of
tears. I turned and walked down to the river’s edge. How had I lost that life,
that energy? Where had that young adventurer gone?
“I already see her,” Berne whispered to me as she carried the boat
back to the river. “She is more beautiful than her surroundings. Perhaps it is
just knowing where to look.”
My heart responded to her tone, her love, her gentle words of
support. “What is it about me that makes you so blind, hmmm?”
Berne held out her hand to help me into the boat. “Not blind,
awake
.”
THE AFTERNOON PASSED by with me deep in thought. Every moment
since I had left Berne replayed in my mind. The reason why, the real reason,
tormented me with a blow by blow account. Over and over I ran the pivotal
moments in my life as though somehow it would resolve my issues, change my
choices, make the howlers go away.
Why did a mind do that? Why did it dig out regrets,
embarrassments, broken dreams? What was the point in torturing me with them
now?
I’d not even paid attention to the naturist beach. Rebecca was
quite disappointed that the only people there had been of pension age. What
she’d been expecting, I had no idea. I’d just paddled,
recriminated myself, paddled some more, brooded and . . . well .
.
. paddled.
“I think we will stop for the evening soon,” Berne said to me. She
had been observing my sullen mood in silence, letting me have peace to think. I
had felt her watching me. “I would like to initiate Rebecca first though,
oui
?”
“Init—” I grinned, my mood lifted at the thought. “Oh, she’ll love
that!”
Berne nodded and banged her paddle on the side of the boat,
alerting Babs. “We have a newcomer to the river,
non
?”
Babs face lit up and she paddled them over to us. “She will need
to pass the test,
oui
?”
Rebecca screwed up her face. “What are you two
oui
-ing and
non
-ing
about now?”
Feigning seriousness, I kept my voice deadpan. “You need to be
introduced to the Chamonix family tradition.”
“What does that mean?” Rebecca looked from Babs to Berne. “What
are you going to do to me? If it involves traffic cones, I would like to warn
you that I have form—”
“Calm, my little English éclair.” Babs got to her feet, the boat
wobbled ever so slightly. She launched into a raucous version of a camping song
that Berne’s forefathers had passed down.
“Karaoke?” Rebecca raised her eyebrows at me.
Berne got to her feet without causing the slightest movement and
sang out, with gusto, the required response. Rebecca’s face was a picture. In
all fairness the song sounded more like a tribal challenge of some sort.
“You!” Berne said, pointing to me. “Do you love the Ardèche?”
I got to my feet, the boat wobbling until I remembered how to keep
my balance. “
Oui
,
mon capitan!
”
“Do you love France?” Her voice bounced back off the cliff faces,
drawing looks from a few kayakers paddling by.
“
Oui
,
mon capitan!
” I remembered that I had to
salute.
“Prove it!”
I stood on the lip of the boat with my feet, remembering not to
close my eyes. Keep my balance, core strength, focus on Berne.
With a grin, I bellowed out “LaMarseillaise
.
”At
least the first verse and chorus that I knew. It didn’t matter that I was
singing about invaders and what the French army wanted to do to them.
As I got to the chorus, I gave it everything I had. It made me
feel giddy and light, like I had back then, just turned nineteen and hopelessly
in love. It was the same sensation of freedom.
I finished with gusto and got a hearty applause from the nearby
paddlers. I saluted them with a wink.
“What do you think, Babs?” Berne said. She looked as impressed as
she had that day on the train. Her eyes hungry. “Does she pass?”