Page 104 of One Last Thing
Mum’s face appears on my phone screen and she breaks into a wide smile.
‘Hello, darling,’ she trills, sliding her sunglasses up to perch on top of her head as she peers at her screen. ‘I’m so glad you called!’
‘Hey, Mum, where are you today?’ I ask, propping my phone up against the stack of books on my desk and leaning back in my chair.
‘Here, take a look,’ she says, turning the camera so I can admire the impossibly turquoise sea next to the stretch of white sand she’s walking along, a small beach framed by dramatic cliffs. ‘What do you think?’
‘Wow. That looks incredible.’
‘It is. And the people here are the nicest in the world. I’m considering moving to Bali permanently, you know.’
‘Interesting. Funnily enough, I remember you saying that at the beginning of this year about South Africa and also about Sweden, Norway and Iceland earlier this summer.’
‘What can I say, the world continues to impress me,’ she replies unfazed, returning the camera back to her smile. ‘Guess what I did this morning while you were fast asleep on your side of the planet? Surfing! Me! I wentsurfing, Megan.’
‘Were you any good at it?’ I ask, impressed.
‘Oh god no, I was terrible! Could barely paddle on the thing, let alone stand up on it. I couldn’t even “pop up” when we were practising on land. Jemma and Iris witnessed the lesson and Jemma laughed so hard, she peed herself a little. That’s what happens when you get older, darling.’
‘Thanks for the warning,’ I say, wrinkling my nose. ‘Sounds like you three are having a lot of fun. How are Iris and Jemma?’
‘Better than I’ve ever known them,’ she says. ‘They were both in need of a holiday. We’re having a ball. Speaking of which, how are preparations going?’
The sun is reflecting on the screen of the phone so I stand up to move to the window and close the shutter. ‘Good. Sad you won’t be here this year.’
‘Me too. Françoise told me about the mix-up with the florist, what a nightmare! I’m so sorry, Nico must have been stressed,’ she says, frowning in sympathy.
‘He was stressed –his version of stressed, anyway, which is still kind of chilled. But we got it sorted,’ I assure her, slumping back down in my chair.
‘You meanyougot it sorted,’ she corrects with a knowing smile. ‘Françoise mentioned that there’s no problem you can’t solve. When are you going to make it official?’
‘Make what official? And how often are you talking to Françoise behind my back?’
‘Oh, not as often as I’d like, we’re both so busy, but it’s nice to catch up when we can,’ she says dismissively. ‘I mean, when are you going to become the official manager of Château du Chèvrefeuille? You’re running the place, aren’t you? Nico will be out of a job.’
‘I’mhelpingto run the place,’ I say, rolling my eyes. ‘Nico is still in charge.’
She chuckles. ‘I’d like to see him try to boss you about.’
‘Yeah, that doesn’t happen. He’s too smart to try,’ I say with a grin. ‘He sort ofsteersme in the right direction when I need it, I would say. He’s good at managing without coming across as a manager. One of the many reasons the staff love him. Anyway, my focus is on the book.’
‘Ah yes, the book. Did you see I emailed you my latest set of notes?’
‘You read the new chapters?’ I say astonished, sitting up and logging into my laptop. ‘I didn’t think you’d have time. I only sent them yesterday.’
‘My darling, I will always have time and when I don’t have it, I’ll make it,’ she says matter-of-factly. ‘They’re fantastic, Megan, I don’t know where you get your imagination from.’
Opening my email, I quirk a brow. ‘Don’t you?’
‘I wish I could take credit, but I’m all about heroines and hunks, not all this magical world-building you’re able to do,’ she remarks. ‘Must be your father’s side.’
I grimace. ‘Please don’t say the word “hunks”, Mum.’
‘What’s wrong with the word “hunks”?’
‘I don’t know, it’s just weird.’ I open up the now-edited document I sent her, before blowing out all the air in my cheeks. ‘Whoa. That’s a lot of red notes.’
‘Yes, I had a few thoughts on these ones.’
