She giggled. “Oh, that girl. She can be quite the little witch, huh?” Understatement of our tour.
“There’s a lot more going on there than she lets on, I think.”
“Oh, I know there is. That’s why I give her a pass so often.” Mama Lou was back.
I smiled into the darkness. “It’s been a good tour so far.”
“It has.”
“You know, I always swore I’d never do one of these.”
“A bus trip?”
I didn’t correct her. “Yes. The way Sarah described them, they never had any appeal.”
“So, if you hadn’t slept with your roommate, uh …”
“Alex.”
“Right, Alex—then you wouldn’t be here.”
“Huh. I guess that’s true.”
“And we wouldn’t have met.”
“Hmm. Also true.”
“You should thank him.”
I chuckled quietly. “I guess I should. Although he is moving out now. I’m not sure I’ll even see him when I get back.”
“He must be really upset.”
How had I not thought of that? Here I was feeling all sorts of guilt about Jean-Luc and I hadn’t given Alex a second thought. He’d said he was in love with me. And even if it was misguided and unreciprocated, that didn’t make his feelings any less real. And I’d literally run away from him without even the courtesy of a proper conversation.
I was a complete and utter cow.
***
“Did you send it?” asked Lou. We’d been on the road for several hours, having already stopped for morning tea, and the whole time I’d been agonising over the Alex palaver. I’d decided to text him an apology.
“Yep. Longest text message ever,” I replied.
“What did you say?”
“That I’m sorry I didn’t know how he felt about me, and I didn’t want to hurt him, but I know I probably did, and I’m sorry he thought he had to move out, and that I hope we can still be friends.”
“Yeah, that is long.”
“That’s the abridged version.”
“Right. Did you mean the last part?”
“About staying friends?”
“Yup.”
“No. I mean, we weren’t really friends to begin with. We were just flatmates, but it’s what you say, isn’t it? To be polite?” My inner Englishwoman speaking.
“I guess. It’s not exactly honest, though.”
“Geez, Louise. I think the most important thing is that I apologised. He probably doesn’t want to ‘stay friends’—” I used air quotes “—Sheesh!” She raised her hands in surrender and I immediately back-pedalled. “Sorry, Lou.”
“No problem.” It seemed so easy for her, forgiving people. I wanted to be like Lou.
And I wasn’t sure why I was so tetchy; I had no reason to be. I’d had a whopping nine hours of sleep—a new tour record—and we’d had a decent breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast. And even though we were going to be on the coach a long time that day—more than six hours—Northern Italy had epic scenery. I mean, epic.
So, no reason to be grumpy other than my inner voice chastising me for being, as I’d realised, an utter cow. I got out my phone and sent a series of messages to my people.
To Jane:
Hi. Any ideas about a new flatmate? I’ll ask around at school next week. Hope you’re having a good week. Leaving Italy today for Switzerland. Amazing scenery. Ciao! Cat x
To Mum:
Thanks for the letter! Tour is very good. Will call when I get home for a proper catch up. Love to Dad. Catherine xx
To Sarah:
May try to FaceTime you later. I saw J-L. He kissed me! And he said he was in love with me years ago. OMG! Anyway now I’m all confused. ARGH! Going to Lauterbrunnen today. Loved Rome and Venice. Love you. Cx
I sent the last message, then sat back and looked out the window again. We were on a highway wending through a mountain pass somewhere north of Verona when I saw signs for Lake Como and immediately thought of George Clooney. Maybe we could take a little detour and pop in. Surely, he would love having a busload of strangers show up for some Nespresso. “Buongiorno, George, Amal!”
My mind is a weird place sometimes.
***
I thought Northern Italy was stunning and then we got to Switzerland. It was like seeing the Duchess of Cambridge and thinking, “Wow, she’s beautiful,” and then Gal Gadot walks by.
The valleys were so incredibly green. I couldn’t think of any time I’d seen that vibrant a colour in nature—it was like the grass was made of parakeets. The slopes of the valleys rose to rocky peaks dusted in snow and dotted with chalets, dark wood structures with apex roofs and green shutters. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I would have thought the entire scene was CGI.
We stopped for a late lunch and a quick visit in Lucerne, which looked like a film set. Yes, Italy was nice, but Tom could have taken me straight to Switzerland and left me there for two weeks and I would have been happy. We only had an hour to go, see, and eat, and I was far more interested in going and seeing than eating, so I talked Lou into buying takeaway so we could wander around while we ate.
Confession: in Lucerne, takeaway meant McDonald’s. We would have had anything else, if anything else had been available, but fast food was scarce. It was a minor indiscretion never to be repeated on the tour. And, let’s be honest, McDonald’s fries are amazing.
Burgers and fries in hand, we headed across the nearly seven-hundred-year-old wooden bridge that traversed the Reuss River, Chapel Bridge. It was magnificent and as we crossed from south to north, we got an incredible view of Mount Pilatus in the distance.
The greenish-blue water was like glass and on both banks the town was reflected in perfect twins. The single apex roofs we’d seen on chalets all the way to Lucerne were mirrored in the architecture of the town’s buildings—offices, hotels, residences—but were more formal than the chalets, more austere. The air smelled clean and I took in great gulps of it as I downed my yearly quota of saturated fat.
“This is unbelievable,” said Lou, echoing my thoughts.
“I know. I had no idea that somewhere so pristine even existed. It’s as though every single detail has been chosen with care. Even Monaco isn’t like this.”
“It’s like we’re on a movie set.”
“I was thinking that too.”
“I wish we were staying here instead.”
“Stop reading my mind,” I teased.
She smiled at me, then checked her watch. “We should make our way back.”
I nodded and stuffed the rest of the fries into my mouth as we walked back across the bridge.
On the coach, I doused my hands in hand sanitiser to rid them of the smell of grease. Lou held her hand out and I squeezed out another dollop.
“We hope you had a good lunch,” said Georgina. Lou raised her eyebrows at me. My stomach lurched and I was already regretting the burger. “We’re going to make a quick stop before we head to Lauterbrunnen—”
There were groans—loud groans—from some people on the coach. I knew that sound. It was the sound of thirty teenagers being assigned homework over the weekend. To be fair to the groaners, and you may be surprised to learn that I wasn’t one of them, it was a long travel day. But still, Georgina looked like she was going to cry.