Page 98 of All the Gossip from Paris
Bidding her client a tearful farewell, she headed out to her car. The boxy blue Fiat was a far cry from the luxury Audi she’d been used to getting around Paris in, but it was perfect for the narrow roads on the island.
Once in her car, Sophie dialed Liam’s number.
“Salut chérie. Je viens de quitter la ville,” she said, when he picked up the call.
“Um. Ville. Oh, you are just leaving town. Got it.”
An easy grin found its way to her lips. Liam’s command of French was getting better every day. They had been right to come to Tahiti. It helped to immerse him in the French language.
“How did things go with the gown? All done?”
“Oui. And paid for which is perfect timing, as we’ll need to grab some snacks at the market on Saturday before we fly out.”
Liam was silent on the other end of the line. Sophie could just imagine his brain processing her words.
“Why do we need to buy food for the plane?” he asked.
Bingo. He’d figured it out.
“Because they only have economy seats available if we want to fly to New York on Saturday. And just to make things even better…”
She sighed. “They’re giving us a five hour layover in Los Angeles after we arrive in the US. And we have to collect our bags.”
Liam let out a whimper. “That’s just cruel.”
Her world weary traveler had become so used to flying in First or Business Class that the prospect of being back in Coach now horrified him.
“The good news is we leave Papeete early in the afternoon, and we arrive in New York early afternoon their time. The Royal Resorts team will pick us up at the airport and we can be tucked up in our favorite hotel suite not long after we arrive,” she said.
Nineteen hours of flying and layovers would take it out of them, but so be it. At the end of their journey was the first birthday party for their niece Amélie. Camille and Ryan would be expecting them to attend, and this aunt and uncle wouldn’t dare disappoint.
“Sorry, but all the other flights were fully booked. I even checked with the travel agent in town. We were lucky to get these. The only alternative was to fly to New Zealand and then get a flight to the US. But that would have added another whole day’s worth of travel,” explained Sophie.
The old Sophie would have simply picked up the phone and called someone in the Royal family to send a private jet, to collect them. But she was growing as a person. Finally understanding that her life was and had always been, one of immense privilege. So Economy class, with its onerous baggage limits, it was.
“We will need to go through our gear and see what else we can donate to our friends,” said Liam.
“I’ll check my clothes and sort out what I can give to some of the local women. I had a few things already marked, but I’ll be ruthless this time,” replied Sophie.
They were giving up their little green and pink house on the lagoon. After they had visited New York, they were going back to Paris for an extended period.
Now seemed as good a time as any to find new homes for the things they had collected during their stay. Sophie had already returned the sewing machine and overlocker which a local tailor had rented to her for her dressmaking work.
This time in Tahiti had been precious. They’d had four wonderful months where Liam had been free to work on his photography portfolio. During that time he’d lined up assignments that suited their future travel needs. In the past he’d just taken any gig that came his way; now he was being more strategic with his career plans.
The thirty minute drive from the capital to their home on Coco Lagoon was one of Sophie’s favorite trips. The narrow roads and local traffic had taught her to slow down and simply enjoy the drive. She’d get to where she was going when she got there.
After hanging up from Liam, she turned on some music. Her Spotify 90’s track list instantly gifted her a thumping dose of Ricky Martin.
“Allez. Allez. Allez!”
Sophie sang along with the song which had been the anthem for the FIFA World Cup when it was held in France in the late 90’s. As she did, a tear rolled down her cheek. First stop, New York. Then she was going home.
I can’t wait to see Rollo again.
The sun was low in the sky by the time Sophie turned off the main road, and navigated the little car up the bumpy driveway which led to the cute little house she and Liam called home. Seeing the pretty fairy lights which hung from the front porch twinkling in the fading light always made her smile.
“Bébé, où es-tu?” she called as she opened the front door.
