Karen Aldous - The Vineyard

‘Absolutely not my friend.’ Sophie’s hand rose in authority as she spoke in French to the airline and grabbed her small bag to pack. ‘You two are on holiday. I’ll ring the desk for a cab.’

‘It won’t take...’

‘No, I mean it. You have a walk planned. Thierry’s favourite.’

‘I’ll ring the desk whilst you pack then.’

‘That would be good, thanks,’ Sophie said, finishing her call to the airline. ‘Excellent, flight at twelve thirty back to Paris.’

Lizzie organised the taxi and then turned to her son. ‘Thierry can take Mummy for a walk today. Would you like that Thierry? Then afterwards we’ll have a swim.’

‘Will you try ringing Anton again?’ Sophie asked.

‘No, my message said I’m just in Provence for a few days, it didn’t need to specify where but, he’ll hopefully stop calling the apartment for a few days. Marie-Claire would have called if there was a problem, but I’ll give her a quick call now just to make sure she’s ok.’

After waving Sophie off from the front of the hotel Lizzie and Thierry headed to the restaurant for breakfast. With doors drawn back, the rising sun scattered its light delicately among the guests occupying the terrace tables, with the hills loitering deliciously in the distance. Such a shame Lizzie thought as she imagined her poor Sophie winding back down the hills to catch her plane. They stepped out to the terrace and Lizzie sat Thierry securely in a chair.

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