Blue Sky Adam (Adam Series) by McDonald Anthony

Author:McDonald, Anthony [McDonald, Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction & Literature
Publisher: BIGfib Books
Published: 2010-09-06T14:00:00+00:00

FOURTEEN

Stéphane said it was a pity that Adam and he had made separate plans to be away over Easter. They had made those plans – Stéphane to visit friends on the Ile d’Oléron and Adam to travel to England – without knowing that their nearly extinguished sexual relationship would be fanned into a new blaze by Adam’s guilt-induced embracing of Stéphane as he struggled at the piano. Adam thought, though he did not say, that perhaps it was not a pity at all.

But his visit to England proved disappointing. He didn’t manage to see Sean, who was up in Newcastle – so he rather wildly invited him to come across to France in a couple of weeks’ time instead. As for Michael, Adam just about managed to meet him over a pint or two in London. Where, in a vast high-ceilinged pub on the Strand they found that they no longer had much to say to each other. And that was all. There was no invitation to Michael’s new flat, no arrangement to introduce Adam to … what was her name? Melissa. That was life, though. Old friends grew up and grew apart. His mind went back to a snowy dusk in February and two ships’ courses diverging off the Isle of Wight.

He fared little better at his parents’ home. His mother fretted the whole time about how he was going to make a living, how he could afford the upkeep of his big house in the Gironde, about how lonely it must be down there. In the end he couldn’t wait to get back to France. Life might be complicated there, but he knew now where he wanted to be. At least his visit to England had clarified that.

Adam found his spirits rising during his return journey, even though he was going back to an empty house, to money worries and to a set of personal relationships of which he seemed to be making a total mess. But the weather was working its usual French springtime magic, turning perceptibly warmer after his TGV crossed the Loire; the sun shone on a countryside that had greened noticeably since he’d left it the previous week, and when, just south of Angoulême, they ran past the first village that was all roofed in those red Roman canal tiles that whisper, south, south, south, to any traveller who goes in that direction, Adam experienced that feeling, like a playful punch below the diaphragm, that says, coming home.

As the train, entering the vignoble of the Pomérol, began to slow in readiness for its Libourne stop, Adam saw that another change had come about during his few days away. In all those acres of vineyard, on all those small black vine-stocks protruding from the earth and tied to wires, the buds were opening into fresh green burgeons, all winking away like emeralds in the sun. Arriving by taxi at the Grand Moulin, Adam was gratified to find that his own vines too were putting forth minute rosettes of leaves.

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