Page 105 of One Last Thing
I balk at that. ‘Afew?’
‘Well, we’re getting to the crux of the story now. You’ve set the scene in the early chapters and here the action really takes off. Welcome to the world of drafting, my darling. You know if you want to get this right then you have to be prepared for a lot of critique. I’ve told you before, don’t make the error of mistaking lots of notes as a bad thing. If I didn’t think the chapters were any good, I wouldn’t botherworking on them. Trust me, my first drafts are nothing like the published books that end up on the shelf.’
I nod, scrolling down and smiling as I read through a couple of the more complimentary edits dotted through the manuscript.Beautiful writing, darling!One says.Goodness me, the magic of this story! I’m lost in wonder!Another reads.
‘Thanks, Mum,’ I say earnestly, sitting back again. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘Not at all. As always, feel free to ignore any that you don’t agree with. It’s all subjective and, as I say, I’m no expert when it comes to this genre.’
‘I’m honoured to take any notes I can get fromtheDawn Dixon, thanks.’
I’ve been working on my children’s fantasy novel since I made the move to Collioure at the end of last year. After we fulfilled Dad’s wishes and scattered his ashes, I returned to the UK to work out my notice, having told Cameron that the time off had made me rethink a few things and one of those things was where I was headed in my career. I knew that I was on a path to more success but also a lot more stress and I’d realised that, as grateful as I was for how far I’d come, I didn’t see me enjoying that life anymore. I turned down the promotion I was offered for senior partner. I heard Angus still hasn’t got it and imagine he’s probably going around ranting on nights out about the company ticking those boxes.
I haven’t regretted my choice once.
As much as he jokes about it, I didn’t move here just for Nico, although he made the decision a lot easier. In the end it came down to the fact that I preferred who I got to be out here. More myself, really. I had enough savings to take some time to work out what I wanted to do next, but as soon as Istarted plotting my book, I realised there was nothing else. I applied for jobs at some cafés in the area, wanting a job that I could write around, but when Nico lost a kitchen staff member at Christmas who was moving abroad, he badgered me to step in. I was apprehensive about working for my boyfriend, and embarrassed too that I was using connections to get a job, but it didn’t matter in the end, because I was shit at it. Luckily for everyone, my organisation and problem-solving talents shone through, eclipsing my terrible kitchen skills, and no one complained when I was moved onto the operations management team. And Ilovemy job.
I also love working with Nico. Having him as part of my everyday feels like a privilege I can’t quite believe I deserve. Last Christmas, when decorations, fairy lights and an enormous Christmas tree transformed the chateau into some kind of festive wonderland, I finally mustered the courage to tell Nico that I was in love with him and he smiled bigger than I’ve ever seen him smile and he told me he’d been in love with me since we were fourteen years old, no, wait, maybe younger than that, he couldn’t be sure. He kissed me deeply and whispered that he’d always love me and I said, ‘Same’, because in my awkwardness I couldn’t quite say those words, but I hoped he knew I meant it just as much.
Moving to Dad’s dream house in Collioure hasn’t been a completely easy journey. There are lots of things about England I miss, but I’ve been able to journey back easily when I can, like when Mum has her hospital treatments so I can be with her for them, or when I surprised Marisa with a big night out with a load of her friends the weekend before she went back to work. She cried alotthat night. Partly because her second baby was starting nursery, largely because of the tequila. I cried too because Imiss being able to see her whenever I like. But being in a different country means we make the effort to talk much more. And we talk about everything, even if it makes us look pathetic and feel vulnerable. We may be further apart, but I feel closer to her than ever before.
I made a point of reaching out to Mathieu. I wasn’t angry at him, I wanted him to know that, and I realised that when it came to piecing together a side to my father I felt that I didn’t know, he was a good person to speak to. I asked Nico for permission, even though he insisted I didn’t need it. He and Mathieu had spoken since the fireworks and were on good terms. Nico didn’t want to get in the middle of the divorce with Françoise, which was a delicate situation, but he saw him as much as possible.
We were both so nervous at first when we met for coffee and I could tell he was carefully navigating the best way to talk about Dad without upsetting me whilst also struggling to talk about him anyway. I did my best to put him at ease, but I’m not great at doing that for others in normal circumstances, let alone these ones. With a bit of reassurance, he opened up a little and as the conversation rolled on, both of us grew in confidence: I got better at asking questions and he got better at answering them. I found myself smiling with gratitude as Mathieu talked about Dad, his affection obvious in the tender way he spoke about him. I got to listen to stories about my father that I never knew, told by someone who loved him. It made me feel closer to him, hearing about him through Mathieu. We both cried and he held my hand and I thanked him for caring about Dad so much and he thanked me for arranging our meeting. I would never know, he said, how much it meant.
‘I want you to be part of my life,’ I said to him before we parted, which sounded like a quote from a cheesy movie, but is also how I felt. ‘I think Dad would have liked that.’
‘I think so, too,’ he smiled.
When I left to return to my blue-shuttered house, it seemed like something had lifted.
The truth is, I’ve had to navigate a lot of change and there’s been a few tough and stressful moments, but it’s also been the best year of my life. I have no idea what lies ahead, but I’ve risen to enough challenges to know that I can face whatever comes my way and make it out the other side stronger and more resilient than before. Now that I’ve been lucky enough to place myself in Nico’s orbit, I will work my arse off to stay there forever, even if his laidback attitude sometimes bugs the hell out of me. I still find myself falling more in love with him every day.
I like to think that Dad loved this place so much, not just because he felt himself when he was out here, but also because he saw how happy I was here, too. It didn’t make much sense that he’d buy his dream house at the end of his life. But it does make sense that he’d buy me mine.
‘How’s your book coming along?’ I ask Mum as she stops to sit down on the sand.
‘It’s at the copyediting stage now,’ she informs me. ‘I’ve read it so many times that I’m almost certain it’s a load of bollocks.’
I burst out laughing. ‘Come on, Mum, you know as well as I do it’s brilliant. How did Brandon describe it? Your best work since theHeartlodgeseries, I believe he said.’
‘Not quite the achievement it sounds like. The rest of my canon is hardly notable.’
‘Just enjoy it, Mum,’ I sigh. ‘It’s going to be a huge hit when it publishes next spring. I know it. And hopefully itwill bring lots of new business to the chateau that inspired the story in the first place.’ I hesitate. ‘How are you feeling? In yourself, I mean.’
‘Good,’ she says warmly. ‘I’ve had a couple of bad days, but the lifestyle here is so healthy, it’s been helping, I think. The food is delicious and I’ve been doing lots of gentle walking, not to mention my new surfing skills.’
Chuckling, I fold my arms. ‘Make sure you’re taking care of yourself, okay?’
‘Darling, I’m having the time of my life.’
‘Good.’ I check the time. ‘Hey, I better go. Marisa is flying in soon and I have a few things to get sorted before she arrives.’
‘Send her and the family my love,’ Mum gushes, ‘and I want lots of pictures of her little ones running about the place! And I will be thinking of you this weekend. I have no doubt the ball will be an even bigger success than last year.’
‘I hope so,’ I say, running a hand through my hair. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
‘How’s the raft looking?’
