Page 93 of The Riviera House Swap

Then, almost before she knew it, they were in Andorra, close to the coast. There was a light breeze, but it felt fresh rather than perishingly cold. The view was peppered with sailing boats and flanked by apartment buildings – everything looked new and well cared for. The cars that passed were shiny and there was an air of luxury – even in the sea that stretched before them. As if it was a better sea than the one that they were used to, made for people with more expensive tastes.

Antoine pulled the van into a space and they got out, feeling the warm breeze touch their skin. Wordlessly, they made their way to a small bench which looked down as the land fell away to the water.

She should be on a plane. Or perhaps even landed by now, lugging her suitcase to the train, then taxi, then up the front steps of her parents’ place. Perhaps in another universe, another Nina was doing just that.

But she was in Andorra.

Andorra, Cagnes-sur-Mer, Vienna, Italy, France, Austria – all these places had existed throughout her life. At any point since adulthood, she could have elected to come here, but somehow it had taken her forty years to take the plunge.

She thought of all the other places out there. How they, too, were always there, waiting for visitors. Whether she decided to go there was entirely up to her. Until now, she’d played it safe. And she still felt the call of home, a longing deep inside for the comfort of the familiar. But she’d tasted something new too – something like freedom and a sense of her own power. Realisedthat where she went was up to her, not Rory, not Jemima, not her anxiety. Just her – the person she was deep inside, who she’d always been.

‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ she said to Antoine.

‘Yes,’ he said, but his eyes were fixed on her face. ‘Beautiful.’

She raised her face to his – this kind, thoughtful, handsome man. Who had been there through the whole adventure, but who, with all her plans and romantic ideals from the past, she simply hadn’t seen. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

‘For what?’

‘Because I was so wrapped up in my past, I was blind to my present. To the good things. The new things.’ She waited, not sure if she dared to say it. ‘To you.’

He smiled. ‘I think you were not blind,’ he said. ‘I think sometimes things take time to become clear. And it is OK. Because we have time. We have all the time we need.’ And he leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to hers.

She leaned into him, feeling the familiarity of him, the sense of knowing this near-stranger more deeply than was possible. But mingled with this, the fizz and excitement of something unexplored and brand new. For the first time, she felt grateful that Pierre had cleared the way and allowed her to see more clearly.

Then, as if to remind them that although they were sitting in rather luxurious surroundings, the truth of their station in life was a little humbler, they heard the unmistakable sound of the ancient VW engine. Sabine rounded a corner, driving the dented, blue van that was somehow to be home to both her and Nina over the next few months and honked her horn loudly and unnecessarily. A woman, dressed immaculately in a raincoat, looked at the van with distaste. But Nina felt her lips stretch into a wide smile.

The van might look a wreck, but it represented freedom and the joy of roads untravelled.

49

THEN

Dear Pierre,

I’ve tried to write this many times. I’ve spoken to my parents but they just won’t let me come over. They say that this is just a teenage crush. I’d love to marry you – it would be so wonderful to be together all the time! I’ll find a way to get to you somehow. Wait for me?

Nina

50

NOW

‘What are you doing?’ Sabine said later as they sat in the van and sipped coffee from a flask. Antoine had stayed for a few hours; they’d eaten and then bid their goodbyes. He’d hugged them both and lightly kissed Nina, who’d felt a shiver of pleasure when his arms wrapped around her back. Perhaps Antoine, too, had been waiting for her all her life. She would see him again just before Christmas, she reminded herself. The idea of Christmas felt both imminent and a hundred years away at once. Sabine, on seeing them embrace, had raised an eyebrow and smiled widely but had said nothing.

‘Just checking my emails,’ Nina said, looking up from her phone.

Sabine rolled her eyes. ‘We are going to have to break that habit,’ she said.

‘But you have a phone.’

‘Yes, but I am not its slave. It is a tool for me.’

Nina felt herself blush. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I just wanted to check…’

‘Let me guess… you are worried about your boss?’

Was she really so transparent? ‘Sorry,’ she said, clicking on an email that Jemima had sent, with an urgent red exclamation mark against it.

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