ROAD TO MANDALAY by Rolf Richardson

Author:Rolf Richardson [Richardson, Rolf]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unknown
Published: 2018-08-30T06:00:00+00:00

24

VAL FORNET. MARCH

Alexei and I had discussed her dilemma in countless emails, eventually agreeing she must come to a decision during her week with me in the snow. I had the feeling that, like me, she might be edging towards one of life’s more adventurous crossroads. Have to see.

During the three week interlude between Gudrun and Alexei some things became clearer. Freddie announced he had booked on Cathay Pacific from Heathrow to Hong Kong on 23rd April, followed by an internal flight to Kunming.

According to mum Megan, this had been fixed by Panda, which would no doubt explain the strange destination of Kunming, which Google Earth informed me was a city near the bottom left hand corner of China: a pretty big place by the look of the satellite images.

I’d spent a fair amount of time on the phone to Megan, partly because speaking was her preferred method of communication, but mainly because it would be impossible to keep email secrets from our cyber king.

Freddie had apparently always recognised that going off on his own was beyond him, even with a buddy waiting at the other end. But he had to be weaned off the notion that his mother would be his companion. There was nothing Megan wanted less than to go swanning off to China, so when I had offered to go in her place, she had been delighted. Not so Freddie, who was mentally still almost tied by the umbilical cord of birth.

Megan told me she had been waging a constant campaign to get her son to accept a role reversal: that his designated moggie minder - me - should in fact go with him to China, while mum would stay at home to look after the cat. She was claiming some success in her endeavours, adding that the possible addition to the party of my girlfriend seemed to make Freddie better disposed towards our proposal. Yet another reason for Alexei to join us.

For her ski break Alexei wanted to avoid the scramble over Easter, which came in early April, so had chosen mid-March. This is usually one of the best months, but ‘usually’ isn’t ‘always’, because March that year was something of a weather disaster, with high winds, fluctuating temperatures and poor snow conditions. To drown our sorrows Alexei said she would splash out on an evening at Monsieur Hulot’s, the art deco restaurant where we’d had our first meal together.

Jacques greeted us with his usual bonhomie, patting my back as we went in and whispering: “Congratulations, monsieur. Still with Madame I see.”

The said madame had insisted on a repeat performance and was therefore paying, a bottle of champagne on ice waiting at our table. She was looking especially snazzy in skin-tight trousers, expensive beige top and some sparkly stuff around her neck which I’m pretty sure had not come from a Christmas cracker.

A waiter presented the menus, popped the champagne cork and departed. My beloved raised her glass, smiled, and announced, “I’ve decided.”

“China?”

She nodded. “Time for a change.

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