“That’s what I was saying. I’m all over the place—excited—confused—nervous. Mostly excited—I think.”
“Good!” God, she really got stuck in her head sometimes.
“Um, Cat?
“Yes.”
“Do you think …?” She trailed off.
“What?” I asked gently. I could tell she was really stewing on something.
“Am I a bad person?”
“What? No, why? Because you’re seeing two men?” A nod. “No, I don’t think that. Have you committed to either of them?” A shaken head. “No, you haven’t. You have to see, Sarah. How else will you know which one is right for you?” She nodded along with my brilliant logic.
“And maybe neither of them is.” I am not sure why I added that last part, but I immediately regretted it. My sister would be a terrible poker player and I could tell my remark had stung. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’re right. I need to be honest with myself—especially after the Neil debacle, the fuckhead. And, you know, maybe I will end up alone—”
“On your own. Not alone.”
“Right. On my own.” She shrugged. “Anyway, for now I just want to be excited.”
“And you should be. I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks.” She grinned. “So, now, your news. Jaelee, is it? She said you had news.”
“I do, sort of.” She looked at me, her large eyes unblinking. “Do you remember that French exchange student—”
“Jean-Luc? Of course. He practically lived at our house. He walked in on me on the toilet once. It was mortifying.” Of course she remembered that. Sarah’s life could easily be defined as a series of embarrassing moments. “Although I think he was more embarrassed than I was. Anyway, sorry. It’s him, right, Jean-Luc?”
“Yes, it’s Jean-Luc. Anyway …” I gave her a look to tell her to let me finish uninterrupted. She pressed her lips together, then mumbled, “Sorry,” making me laugh. I do adore my sister.
“Anyway, so, the other night when we were in Paris, Jaelee literally stopped some random man in the street to ask him something, aaand it turned out to be Jean-Luc.” Her eyes widened. “You can say something now.”
“So, wow. Oh, my God. Did he recognise you? What does he look like? Did you get to talk to him?”
I answered each question in turn, “Yes, gorgeous—like, ridiculously gorgeous—and yes. He invited us to this pub, and we talked, and then he took me up to Sacré-Cœur, and we went to this bar, and we talked some more, and we’re meeting up in Rome on Thursday. For dinner.”
“That’s. Wow—it’s like something out of a movie.”
“Hah! Coming from you, that’s hilarious. But yes, it was kind of surreal. And, I forgot to tell you. I didn’t recognise him at first, on the street. He was just this random hot guy. I mean, Sez, he’s so incredibly handsome. He’s like six-one or six-two and has this sort of longish hair and his smile is so sexy, and his eyes!
“You probably don’t remember, but his eyes are this intense green and anyway, I didn’t even know it was him until we got to the bar—an Irish pub of all places—in Paris, mad. So, we get there—me and the girls and this guy, Craig. I’ll tell you about him later, and Jean-Luc is already there, and he walks over and looks at me and says, ‘Hello, Cat-er-in.’ Just like that, all sexy and French. I nearly died. In fact, I nearly fainted. Oh, I just remembered that. He caught me. I mean, literally. So …”
“Wow. You are a smitten kitten.”
I sighed. “Yes, rather.” It was my sister. I had no need to play coy. “I’m desperate to go to bed with him.”
“Right.” She cleared her throat—was that her being prudish? She with the two international lovers? “So,” she continued, “did anything happen that night?”
“No—nothing happened in Paris. We just talked. I mean, he held my hand a couple of times, but not like fingers laced, more like you’d hold Mum’s hand. But he did kiss my forehead, really soft and slow.”
“He kissed you on your forehead?”
“Yes.”
“Wow, that’s …”
“I know, right. That’s like …?”
“Yeah, that’s definitely …” Sister shorthand is the best. “So, you’re seeing him in Rome?”
“Right. He’s got this interview thing down in Naples tomorrow—he’s a writer, for magazines—and he’s going to meet me in Rome on Thursday for dinner.”
“Sounds divine. Oh, Cat, you’re gonna love Rome. It’s … you know, some people get all mushy about Paris, but I preferred Rome. It’s just so chic, and it’s this incredible combination of modern and ancient. I mean, people are on their way to work and there are these ruins, like, right there. The whole city is steeped in this incredible history. It’ll be amazing.”
“Well, we’re supposed to have this tour when we first get there, but I was going to skip it to meet up with Jean-Luc. But maybe I should go?”
“On the tour? Yeah, you should definitely do that. It’s only a couple of hours and you’ll get to see the Roman Forum and the Colosseum. I’d say go.”
“Thanks for that. I’ll think about it.”
“Cat?” Lou was standing on the other side of the screen door looking down at me.
“Oh, did you want to come out?” I said, standing.
“Yeah, in a minute. Sorry to interrupt, but we’re going down to the beach soon. Did you want to come?”
“Go!” said Sarah. “It’s the Côte d’Azur!”
“Yes, definitely,” I said to both of them. Lou disappeared. “So, I’ll let you know how Thursday goes.”
“You better. Okay, I love you.”
“Love you, too. And I’m really happy for you, Sez.”
“Thanks.” The grin was back, but I knew my sister. She’d be beating herself up for the next few months over the whole “love triangle” thing. “Bye.”
“Bye.” I ended the call, then went inside to dig out my bikini. It was time to go swimming on the French Riviera!
***
“Huh,” said Dani, summing up what I was thinking.
We’d changed into our swimsuits and cover-ups, packed up beachy things—towels, sunscreen, hats, reading materials—and had left the campsite for the one-mile walk to the beach. It was completely unremarkable, a straight road with nothing of interest on either side, meeting the coastal highway perpendicularly. We crossed the highway, then a train track and when we got to the beach, we stood stock-still side by side, somewhat in shock.
What we’d expected—what I’d expected—was rows of sun loungers, white sand, blue water, and beautiful people milling about drinking cocktails and laughing at witty repartee.
What we got was grey stones all the way down to grey water and not a person in sight.
“Where are the people?” asked Dani.
“Where’s the beach?” asked Jaelee.
“Didn’t Georgina say we should catch the train to either Nice or Cannes, because the beaches are better than Antibes?” asked Lou. I had no idea. I’d been dead asleep, drooling on the coach window.