Tuesday 9 December 2014

Harry and Tony's vacation almost ends in disaster - Chapter Four

As the sun sizzled into the gold-dust sprinkled sea, evening softened with the remaining balminess of a breeze, threading its way this way and that through palm trees, across the sandy beach reaching the many various size yachts moored alongside private jetties. It blew out across the bay as far as St. Tropez in the distance and back closer throughout Port Grimaud, where people dined late in restaurants, enjoying good food, wine and each other's company.
     Young couples drifted past, as the breeze caught the long glossy strands of a lover's hair, tossing the curls against her lovely face. She smiled, then turned and kissed her male companion, before they wandered hand in hand towards a party given on a large, sleek yacht. It was moored close to an outdoor restaurant on the beach, where music drifted on the perfumed air. A soft yellow glow of lights twinkled in the water, mirroring their reflections from the two and three story houses dotted around the different inlets; as did the moon when it dipped its silvery beams amongst lapping waves, slapping against the sides of yachts, rocking to and fro as the breeze caught them off the sea.  
     Harry sighed with pleasure, lifting his glass of red wine, heady with fruits of the vine and proposed a toast with his friend Tony.
     'Here's to us!'
     'To us!' replied Tony, licking his lips after taking a long draught from his wine glass. 'Let's hope the experiences of the last few days are well and truly behind us, eh dear boy?'
     'Absolutely!' grinned Harry, shifting in his seat from a hip joint, that ached at times when sitting too long in one position. At last, they were able to relax and enjoy part of what they hoped to experience here in Port Grimaud, on the French Riviera. The weather was warm as they sat in an outdoor bar, situated on the beach, the breeze embracing their ageing faces. At last they were in possession of the three story house, without the 'entourage' that accompanied them to Monroe's English Pub - and they had a room to themselves, much to their delight. They soon found when visiting the pub earlier in the evening, that their friend Katy had written her address down incorrectly, for some unknown reason. So they never did stay with her for the two nights as planned in the old hilltop village of Grimaud, but found a hotel in the town with two available rooms to their liking - and relief. 
     Tony planned a round of golf or two at a club not far away. It was halfway up a large hill overlooking the sea on the way to St Maxime, further along the coast. The golf club possessed an excellent restaurant, both indoors and out, overlooking the practice pitch, surrounded by a well kept garden.
      Harry would drive his friend there and perhaps begin his book. 'Yes!' he thought. 'That's just the place to begin. We could have a nice lunch first and while Tony hits the ball around the golf course, I'll write the first chapter. Couldn't do it on an empty stomach of course. No, that wouldn't do at all.'
     Harry started to think aloud, before Tony turned and asked him with a quizzical look on his face. 'What are you thinking up now, eh? I know that mind of yours is ticking away merrily. The next glass of wine I suppose.'
     'As a matter of fact, no! You're quite wrong. I was thinking I might begin my novel tomorrow when you play golf.'
     'I've heard all that before,' smirked Tony, with a slight shake of the head.
     'You can mock all you want. Just wait and see,' Harry retorted, indignantly.
     'I'm waiting,' replied Tony, eyes lifting heavenward. And I've been waiting years! What time shall we leave tomorrow?' he asked, changing the subject.
     'Not too early. Perhaps after a mid morning coffee.' Harry sipped the last of his wine. 'Think we should return to the house, its getting late - and before it fills with people again!'
     'Yeah,' said Tony, extricating himself from a low chair. 'Let's get going, before I seize up completely. What a pity we don't get any younger. Might be helpful sometimes.'
     'Not sure I'd like my time over again. But there again...' Harry joined his friend as they strolled back to the house; the sun having disappeared over a watery horizon, the sea glistening with a silvery glow - night clouds drawing stealthily across the sky in gathering darkness, casting deep blue-black hues across the houses and inlets, interspersed with golden streaks from the last of a setting sun.
     After a pleasant lunch the next day, Harry stretched his arms out, flexing his hands. 'Well, no time like the present...! Hmmm...' he muttered. 'Now for Richard. He lead a complex life, did Richard III - and what a way to lose your life - but where to begin. At the beginning I guess - when he was young and living up north. Hmmm...,' he murmured again.    
     Gazing upwards, pen in hand, as if for inspiration, Harry wasn't one to use some modern tablet for writing. It had to be by his own hand.  He started writing, mumbling as he went. 'To begin at the beginning... Nope! that won't do. When was the beginning I wonder? Or rather, when and where do I start with his life more like? Hmmm...'
     He continued on for some time, writing sentences, pausing, thinking, writing some more - then firmly laid the pen down on the table, beside his glass of delicious red wine. Harry took a large sip, savouring its flavour on his tongue and thought some more. 'Oh dear, this will never do,' he muttered over and over. 'There are still a few aspects of Richard's life I don't know enough about - even though I've studied it for years, researching.'
     At that moment, Tony saved the day, or rather eased Harry's frustration. He strolled toward the table they'd shared for lunch, wiping his brow with a large white handkerchief. 'Whew! It's a bit hot out there.'
He sat down opposite Harry and ordered a cold beer for them both from a rather pretty waitress, with bright blue sparkling eyes - a pleasant personality to go with her looks.  His friend felt in need of something cold and thanked Tony.
     'Ah, just what I needed. Thanks old friend!' Then remembered he was driving, but thought nothing more about it.
     'Enough of the old eh? I know we are getting on, but I can still beat a few of the youngsters on the golf course.'
     'Good for you!' smiled Harry, encouragingly. 'Onward and upward soon, huh? We can continue along the winding coast road as planned. I hope Miss Madam will cope. What do you think? Is she up to it?'
     'Not sure if she's trustworthy anymore,' mused Tony. 'She's landed us up the creek without a paddle a few times. Perhaps we could try one more time.'
     'I'll be sure and give her firm marching orders the day after tomorrow. We could buy a freshly roasted chicken at the market and take it along the coast for a picnic. Remember when we did that the last two times? They're always moist and delicious and so popular with the locals. They must do a roaring trade on market days. People have to queue up early before the chickens disappear. I love the way they roast the potatoes underneath at the same time.'
     'Stop! You're making me hungry all over again,' laughed Tony.
     'You can't possibly be hungry after all you've eaten at lunch time?' remarked Harry, frowning at his friend incredulously, as the young waitress appeared again.
     Sipping his beer, Tony reluctantly waved her away with a smile, watching with one eye how she swung her hips to perfection. He pulled a face, eyes looking up - when Harry noticed that look, realizing only too well how charming Tony could be with the ladies. He had such a lovely manner with them.
     'She's far too young Tony. You should be ashamed of yourself at your age.'
     'I know, I know! Just looking.'
     'Sometimes I think you forget how ancient we both are,' grinned his friend.
     'Speak for yourself old boy!' replied Tony, indignant. 'We'd better think about returning to Port Grimaud soon, before we're tempted to order another drink from that waitress. Don't forget you have to drive, huh?'
     'Haven't forgotten,' retorted Harry, looking over toward the door where the waitress had disappeared; then stood up a little too quickly. 'Awe...' he uttered, one hand placed on his forehead - appearing to totter slightly.
     'Harry! Are you alright? What's the matter eh, old friend?' Tony was looking anxious at Harry, slumped beside the table.
     'I'm...fine, Tony... honest.'
     'Well you don't look so good. Have a seat for a while. There's no rush to get back.'
     'Think I will,' answered Harry. Give me a moment. I must have got up too quickly after that beer. It's not like me at all.'
     They remained another thirty minutes while Harry recovered and felt able to drive back safely, before walking slowly to where the car was parked. It felt hot when they entered and after starting the engine, Harry turned on the air conditioning. 'Ahhh... that's better,' he sighed, resting his head back briefly.
     Tony still wasn't convinced. 'Harry..., are you able to drive alright? We could order a ta...'
     'I'm okay now Tony. Don't worry,' Harry assured his friend.
     Before he pulled slowly out of the car park, he 'programmed' Miss Madam to get them back to the house, just in case. Although they knew the way quite well, Harry thought it a good idea. After all, they both had been drinking a little.
     They continued along the main road, back toward Port Grimaud - all was going well. Miss Madam instructed Harry in no uncertain terms, "At the next roundabout, take the second exit." Then shortly afterwards - "take the second exit at the roundabout.
     'Alright, I hear you!' said Harry.
     "I hope you do!" replied Miss Madam.
     'Blooming cheek!' Tony frowned, looking over at Harry who was concentrating on his driving.
     "I think he needs to be sure," stated Miss Madam, "He's been drinking you know!"
     Harry gave a little chuckle. 'She's right you know,' he said to Tony, who's eyebrows had shot up.
     "Of course I'm right!" stated Miss Madam, sounding  self-assured and a little dictatorial. Then she announced, "continue on for three miles, preparing to bare left." 
     'Hmmm,' thought Tony. 'What do we do now?' not really believing Miss Madam.
     Harry was only half listening as Miss Madam soon gave further instructions. "At the next intersection four hundred yards on, bare left."
     Harry was at the intersection before he realised it and confirmation exactly where he needed to go, not at all clear. Miss Madam suddenly said, almost shouting, "now do a U-turn!" Suddenly he was confused, the intersection having several options. 'What now...?' He thought he'd missed the correct turn and swung the Mercedes quickly over to the right, noticing almost too late, it was hanging over an embankment with a sheer drop below - so turned the wheel in the opposite direction. It only just saved them from complete disaster. He was holding his breath, almost frozen.
     Tony was clinging tightly to the door handle by now, his right foot flat to the floor as if applying imaginary brakes. 'Oh my God! Harry, what are you doing?' He swore blatantly, not caring who heard - but his friend was silent for the moment.
     Harry was able to bring the car to a stop on the side of the road, heaving a sigh of relief they were still alive. 'Bloody hell! That thing,' he pointed to the dashboard, 'will get us both killed one day.
     "It wasn't my fault!" Miss Madam corrected. "If you'd have done what I instructed, this wouldn't have happened."
     Tony grunted, still holding on tight to the door handle, unable to let go yet.
     'What does she mean?' Harry muttered, turning a pale shade of pink, then an odd milky white.  
     'Phew!' Tony replied, still short of breath - slowly recovering from their ordeal. 'I'm not sure Harry, but it's time to turn her off again I think.'
     'Agreed! Think we might stay here a bit longer, while I regain some form of confidence, so we can return to Port Grimaud in one piece.' Harry leant his head on the headrest behind his seat, closing his eyes, when they both heard a loud noise coming from behind.
     'Oh no!' said Tony, groaning. 'I hope its not who I think it is. We could be breathalysed.'
     'But we haven't had masses of alcohol,' Harry replied. Only a glass of wine, then a beer and mainly with food.'
     Tony wasn't so sure they were in the clear and before he said anything else, the police car passed them rapidly and turned left. 'Maybe we should continue more slowly, just in case,' he suggested.
     'Absolutely!' said Harry, gathering himself behind the wheel, before sighing with relief and driving sedately on. 
     Not too long afterwards, they pulled into the car-park area near the house. They were staying for one more day, before continuing along the coast. Harry turned the engine off and sat there for several moments reflecting on the drive back. They had made it safely and later, would enjoy a light supper. No mention was made about venturing to Monroe's pub that night. It had been a close shave and neither wished to repeat the experience.
     Two day's later, soon after the market opened in the town, they bought a succulent roasted chicken, some potatoes together with a few other things.
     They left Port Grimaud, reluctantly making their way north east towards Cannes, Antibes and Nice. Harry had managed to do several hours of research for his novel he wanted to start, as they'd brought several books along with them; both enjoying a certain amount of reading and there were always many books on their to-be-read list. 
     They headed along the twisting coastal road, spectacular in parts, as it passed through small village-like towns, where various houses and villas were scattered around hills, cascading down the sometimes rocky slopes overlooking a sparkling Mediterranean, enveloped in a miasma of charm and almost non-purpose, the weather remaining warm as the sun permeated through the late morning. 
      They took their time, with Harry driving carefully, sedately - the windows remaining down while they breathed in the intoxicating sea air - both reflecting on their journey so far and neither could say it had been uneventful.   
    
    

    

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