Although there was very little on his personal life, he wrote pretty regularly about Mork. A recent post of his left me with the urge to comment, I didn’t agree with his point of view and was wondering how to put my argument in a pleasant way when I had the idea of using another identity. I could use a pseudonym, but what should I call myself? Then I thought of our conversation on the way home the evening we visited Geraldine, I’d call myself ‘The Loose Woman’! So I left my comment, grinning to myself, wondering how he would respond.

Katie phoned me during the evening, as I knew she would. I told her that she was worse than her grandmother. She was cross that I’d been let down, I think she wanted him to sweep me off my feet or seduce me in the pool or something. I informed her that I wasn’t a teenager with uncontrollable urges and I hoped that Luke wasn’t either.

The next morning, before I started to work on my postcards, I checked the comments on Luke’s blog and was delighted to read his witty reply, to which I responded. I decided I was going to make mischief. He’d written another post about football, of all things – I didn’t really have anything to say there, so I started work.

After lunch I was tackling a pile of ironing which needed urgent attention when the bell rang. I was surprised to find Mork patiently sat in front of the door holding a piece of paper in his mouth. I asked him if the paper was for me and he turned to see if his master was going to answer, when he saw that Luke wasn’t there he went to look for him. I could hear Luke whispering loudly, he was hiding behind the wall;

“Go back stupid dog and give Emily the paper” Mork didn’t understand the game and came back to me but wouldn’t let go of the paper. I wasn’t sure I wanted it anyway as it was looking rather soggy by then. Eventually Luke stood up from behind the wall laughing and told me that the note was to ask me if I’d like to go for a walk with them. I was glad to be rescued from the ironing and agreed to go. We did managed to get the piece of paper from Mork but he didn’t give it up without a struggle.

We didn’t see too many people on the walk as it wasn’t quite holiday time, but Mork was much admired by passers by and he was very polite with them. While we walked, I tried to ask Luke how his writing was going but he explained to me that he didn’t like to talk about the work in hand. He answered all of my questions about books he’d written in the past, I always wondered what happened to the characters next. Sometimes he could tell me what might have happened to them, when he couldn’t he asked me what I thought came next. I think that we both enjoyed that game. The afternoon passed all too quickly for me, then it was back home to my ironing.

Over the course of the next few weeks I continued leaving witty comments and generally playing up and flirting on his blog. I think I was very lucky not to get banned. I was very careful not to leave my real identity and thoroughly enjoyed my anonymity. I continued to meet Luke in the village and we occasionally went for long walks with Mork together and once or twice into town during the long hot evenings to sit at a café on the port and observe the tourists. I had to watch what I said sometimes, so as not to give the game away that I was reading his blog and thought I was getting away with it. However, one morning I met them on my way back from the post office and as I was talking to Luke, I realised that I hadn’t used my pseudonym. He could see from my face that something was wrong so I invented a problem at home – I’d left a ring on top of the cooker switched on – and dashed off. I heard him call out after me;

“You mind you don’t get burnt”.

I turned on the computer hoping that I could get to the comments box and delete the comment before he saw it. After deleting the comment I scrolled down to re enter it as “The Loose Woman”. He’d already seen my comment and answered it, thanking me for revealing myself – so that was why he shouted after me!

A few minutes later the phone rang- who else could it be but Luke? Wanting to know if I’d turned the cooker off without burning myself, he was laughing as he spoke. He told me that he was glad that “The Loose Woman” was me and he remembered where I had got my pseudonym from. He’d also looked up my profile and checked out my blogs.

He complimented me on my style of writing!

Emily arrived on time and I went myself to let her in at the gate. She was beginning to look tanned, it really suited her. After she’d made a fuss of Mork and I’d introduced her to Madame Espoir, my housekeeper, I took her for the guided tour. We started right down in the bottom cellars and worked through to the top of the château. I’d managed to find out quite a bit of the history of the place since moving in and she asked lots of questions, so it took us a while to get round.

She wanted to know about everything. She appreciated the way in which I’d had the rooms decorated too, it was good to know that someone did. I had the impression that she would have been quite happy to shut herself up with the books in my study for the rest of the day.  There was a moment’s awkward silence when I showed her the bedroom that Suzie had chosen as her room on the rare occasions that she’d put in an appearance. The master bedroom where I slept was the other end of the corridor.

I knew that she would find the roof amazing, though she was disappointed that the lookout tower was only a ‘false’ one, added several years after the original building. It was a clear day so we had a perfect view of the island and watched the yachts sailing out from the port.  She likened me to Edward Scissorhands all alone in my château, looking down on the world.

We went back down to have a swim before lunch. Emily just started to strip off, she was wearing her swimsuit under her clothes. She was slim and had looked after herself, I knew that she had a daughter so her stomach wasn’t as flat as a younger woman’s (Suzie’s?)
would be. She also had a few veins on her legs. Since marrying Suzie, nearly ten years before, I hadn’t really bothered with other women that much. She blushed when she realised that I was watching her. I pulled off my t-shirt and wondered what she thought of me.

Madame Espoir came out of the château at that moment with the phone. I took the call round the side where there was more shade – the sun was becoming quite hot. My publisher was in Paris for a few days and wanted to finalise arrangements for my new book so I had to go on that day of all days to sign some papers. Damn! I went inside and quickly checked the train times on my computer and I had just the time to catch the next train if I left straight away. I had two minutes to change, apologise to Emily who was already enjoying herself in the water and I was off.

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In the middle of June the weather started to behave itself, the sun shone and the days became much hotter as they usually do here. I assumed that Luke would have forgotten about the swim and lunch by then, so I put it out of my mind. Anyway, there was always the beach, on the days that the tide was in during the morning I enjoyed going off to swim on my own. The water was very cold, but it was lovely to have the beach almost to myself.

Luke hadn’t forgotten. He explained that he’d been busy with the organisation of the book tour, but now he had a few days to himself so would I come for a swim and lunch and he would give me a guided tour of the château at the same time – tomorrow? I was really pleased to accept, so we arranged a time and went our separate ways. On the way home I felt really pleased that I had been swimming regularly, I wouldn’t disgrace myself by only managing half a lap as I don’t swim very well.

The next day found me speaking into the little box beside the château gate, a woman’s voice answered me in French. I was a little disappointed as I was hoping we would be alone. Luke came to the gate to let me in and explained that Monsieur and Madame Espoir looked after the château and grounds for him. After I had met Madame Espoir and made a fuss of Mork, of course, Luke took me on my guided tour. We started down in the cellars which were very cool and in the past must have housed hundreds of bottles of wine judging by the alcoves in the walls. While we went through the rest of the rooms, he gave me the history and told me any anecdotes that he knew of. It was interesting to visit his study, the walls were lined with hundreds of books and amongst other furniture there were two big desks, one covered in papers and books and the other was obviously for Luke’s computer. I could have stayed there quite happily for hours exploring Luke’s library.

He’d organised the redecoration of the château himself, he explained, as Suzie hadn’t shown much interest. I told him that I thought that if his writing career dried up perhaps he should consider interior decorating. There was a hint of the East in his choice of furnishings and decoration and the rooms felt comfortable and warm, not grand and cold as large rooms sometimes do. Then we visited the upper floors. He didn’t say anything, but it wasn’t difficult to see that Suzie had her own bedroom. I really felt sorry for Luke when I saw one or two of what must have been her belongings arranged in a room a long way down the corridor from the master bedroom.

“Now for the roof.” He opened a trap door at the very top of the house with a flourish and we climbed the three or four steps up to the outside and bright sunlight. It was strange to look down onto the trees in the park and I could see Mork rolling around on the grass in the garden below. I knew that there was an observation tower on the roof, it could be seen for miles around, and imagined climbing a winding staircase up into it. It wasn’t like that at all. It had been added to the roof later, Luke explained. It was entered by a door at the side, another half a dozen steps led up to a small platform where there was room for three or four people to stand and look out to sea. There was a pair of binoculars on the window ledge.

The view was magnificent, looking across the water we could see the island. It was a clear enough day to make out the houses and the ruins of the abbey. Luke handed me the binoculars so that I could see even more detail. A few yachts with their whiter than white sails added contrast to the blues and greens of the sea and sky. Looking to the right I could see the park and noted that the path I took would be easily observed from here.

“So you’re a little bit like Edward Scissorhands alone in your château overlooking the village?”

“I suppose I am”

“I’ll think of you next time it snows”

We stood in silence for a few minutes more, deep in our own thoughts watching the progress of the white sails across the water.

“Time for a swim I think.” He said and we went down through the château and out to the pool.

Living close to the sea I had adopted the habit of wearing my swimsuit under my clothes if I intended to swim. So changing for me just meant tying up my hair and peeling off my top and cropped trousers, which I did without a thought until I was aware that Luke was watching me. I studied a button on my blouse and then started to apply sun cream, hoping that he didn’t notice me blushing, it had been a long time since I had been aware of a man other than my husband looking at me in that way. He just needed to take off his t shirt too, so it was my turn to secretly watch. He was tanned and looked pretty fit for his age, I certainly wasn’t disappointed with what I saw.

Then Madame Espoir came outside carrying the phone. Luke walked off round the side out of site with the phone, so I took the opportunity to lower myself carefully into the cold water while he wasn’t around to see what a coward I was. As it happened I slipped so I was thankful he didn’t see my inelegant entrance into the water. It was indeed cold, but as the sun was starting to become really hot, it was pleasant. I was already splashing around on my back when Luke returned. He pulled his t-shirt back on and walked over to the side of the pool.

“I’m afraid I’ve got to go to Paris, If I leave now I’ll just get the next train. I’m so sorry – you stay and swim for as long as you like. Madame Espoir will let you out.” I didn’t really have chance to say much except “Thank you” and “Goodbye” because he was gone. About five minutes later I heard the crunch of wheels on the drive as he left for the station.

I had a good swim and enjoyed the solitude, though I was disappointed that he had to leave so quickly. Later, I drowsily floated on my back looking up at the blue sky, surrounded by blue pool and thought about the morning and about how I had found my feelings going through changes. The biggest problem for me was that I knew that Luke was married to someone else, some of her belongings were still here, yes, but they didn’t sleep together I deduced. I reminded myself that he had bought the château with Suzie in mind. I suddenly wondered what I’d say if she turned up there and then, how would I explain my presence in the pool? A cloud passing in front of the sun woke me up and made me suddenly feel uncomfortably self- conscious, I decided that it was time to go home. I got out of the water, quickly dried myself off, said an affectionate goodbye to Mork and went to find Madame Espoir so that she could let me out.

I could tell by the way she limply shook my hand and looked me up and down that she was disappointed Luke hadn’t bought his estranged wife, Suzie, with him. From photographs and what I’d read in the press, Suzie was young and very beautiful and knew (and got drunk with) all the right people. Luke introduced me to Geraldine and poor Geraldine had to make do with ordinary me, although she appeared to be quite interested when I explained to her how I bought and sold vintage postcards.

As her principle guest was a famous author, no expense had been spared, so we drank Kir Royale (I could hear Katie telling me not to over indulge) and nibbled smoked salmon canapés. Geraldine’s husband had returned to Surrey on business for a few days, so sh had us – though she would probably have preferred to have had Luke on his own – to herself.

She talked non-stop, mainly about literature and the arts and gave me the impression that she was trying to prove to Luke how intellectual and well read she was and “The French” this “The French” that as if her poor neighbours were from another planet. I mainly kept quiet as I hadn’t heard of half of the books and authors (or neighbours) she mentioned and I couldn’t help wondering if she honestly ever read a book just for pleasure of it. Katie and I called them the “what does it really mean?” types. As she monopolised Luke, I took the opportunity to observe him sitting in the chair opposite to me without fear of him noticing as he was concentrating on Geraldine. He was fairly tall and slim and greying at the temples, which coupled with a healthy tan made him look very distinguished. Although there seemed to be something sad about his face I could see laughter lines etched around the corners of his mouth and eyes. I found myself thinking that perhaps he was really more my idea of Mr. Darcy than Mr. Rochester.

I got the impression that he was probably trying very hard not to put Geraldine on the spot as it was becoming obvious that she knew as little, if not less, than me of what she was talking about. Luke eventually turned the conversation around so as to include me and I think that I managed to satisfy Geraldine that I wasn’t a complete waste of champagne and smoked salmon.

At long last, it was time to leave. We tried hard not to rush out of the door like liberated school children and thanked out hostess who insisted that we make ‘our aperitif’ a regular thing. Luke was quick to point out that he would be going to the States soon on a book promotion tour and couldn’t promise anything. When we got a little distance from the house we both started to laugh. She had been trying much too hard to create the right impression.
Luke told me that he would have been perfectly happy with a bottle of beer and a packet of crisps. He asked me what I had noticed about Geraldine’s books. I had noticed, like he had, that they were very impressive indeed, but non of them looked as if they’d ever been opened. What a waste, we both agreed.

He offered to walk me home as it was now starting to grow dark and a huge moon was rising over the back of the village. I pointed the moon out and immediately felt quite embarrassed, I didn’t mean to sound ‘romantic’. Luke said he understood that I was just pointing out the interesting moon and he wouldn’t think that I was a ‘a loose woman’. I liked the way he said that, just a hint of his accent from ‘Somewhere in the North of England’, so I asked him
where in the North he came from.

“Robin Hood’s Bay, my father was a journalist on a local paper”, he told me, and then asked:

“Do you know it?” I had been there years ago and loved it, so I asked him why he’d left such a lovely place to live here. He’d left Robin’s Hood Bay when he went to University to study medicine, the tourists were starting to take over and buy up the little cottages for weekend homes. A lovely place to visit but not the best place to live any more. His parents had moved to a village in the Lake District when his father became freelance after Luke and
his sister were off their hands, so he had never been back again. He also explained to me about buying the château to try and save his marriage, he hoped that Suzie, his wife, would settle down, away from the bright lights of London and Los Angeles . As it happens she’d only visited twice in six months and stayed one or two days before going off to “where the action was”. I told him that I was sorry that it wasn’t working out for them. I was surprised that I was also sorry that he’d brought the subject of Suzie up.

I explained in return, that I’d been widowed nearly three years before and that I was proud that I’d continued to make a living and create a life of my own, enjoying my new independence.

By then we’d reached my house. Before leaving me Luke said that in exchange for suffering Geraldine with him he’d invite me round for a swim when the weather got hotter, he said he might even make me lunch. I assured him that I’d look forward to it, we kissed each other on the cheek ‘à la Française’ and he went off home.

The phone rang two minutes after I entered the house. It was Katie, wanting to know all of the details, so I told her about Geraldine, which made her laugh and not too much about Luke, which irritated her.

It was around this time that another Ex-pat in the village sought me out and invited me to her house for an aperitif one evening. She was a rather gushy type and I felt sure that she was going to present me with a manuscript to look at, so I put her off for a while. Eventually I thought I’d better accept for the sake of peace and quiet. Thinking of peace and quiet somehow brought Emily to mind. Perhaps she would like to come with me so that I wouldn’t feel outnumbered ? So I asked her; she teasingly pretended to think about it, I was relieved when the answer was yes.

It was good to hear from my publisher, Justin, with details of my new book cover at last, but it made me late enough to wonder if Emily might decide that I’d stood her up. She had waited for me so I didn’t need to face the ordeal on my own.

We could both see that Geraldine White didn’t make much effort to hide her disappointment on seeing Emily. I suppose she was expecting me to turn up with my famous for being famous wife, Suzie. Geraldine was on her own as her husband had returned to the UK on business or something like that. She made up for it by talking enough for two. The usual stuff on the arts and how many books she’d ‘read’. Emily sat opposite to me and I was aware of her observing us as she listened to us talking. I got my revenge by drawing her in to the conversation when she least expected it. As it happened, Geraldine didn’t have a manuscript for me to take home after all – unless she forgot about it in her excitement.

Eventually we were released and free to go home. I was relieved to have an excuse available to refuse Geraldine’s invitation to make the aperitif together a regular thing as I had my book tour coming up. When we were out of earshot of Geraldine’s house we both started to laugh.

Emily had noticed, like I had, that non of Geraldine’s impressive collection of books looked as if they’d ever been opened.

It was a beautiful evening and the moon was rising from behind the houses. Emily pointed it out first and was immediately embarrassed, so I teased her about being so ‘forward’. We talked, as I walked her home, a little about ourselves and I started to tell her about Suzie and how I hoped that she would settle down with me here. Suzie preferred London and the bright lights while all I wanted was a quiet life so that I could concentrate on my writing. I’d never really talked about Suzie to anyone else at all.

Emily did manage to get a word in edgeways and told me about the death of her husband. She was very proud of the way she had rebuilt her life. Before I left her on her doorstep I invited her to lunch and for a swim when the weather got warmer.

One morning a few weeks after we first met, I received an invitation from Luke.  He had been asked round to drink an aperitif by another English lady who lived in the village and he wondered if I’d like to come along too. He said that he could do with some moral support as he thought that she was a little over the top, to say the least. I pretended to give the idea some consideration and then thought aloud about the date and the time and agreed. We arranged to meet on a corner near to her house as we both lived within walking distance, but from opposite directions.

The evening finally came round, I was quite excited, something which I didn’t let on to Katie when we spoke about it. She on the other hand, gave me lots of advice, such as what to wear and not to drink too much. Anyone would have thought that I was a teenager on a first date. I had tried not to arrive too early, but he was five minutes late, so I arrived at our meeting place first. It was strange to see Luke walking towards me on his own. I’d forgotten that Mork probably isn’t the kind of dog you can take everywhere. Luke had been delayed by a phone call from his publisher about the cover of his next book, he explained to me as we
arrived at the gate of our hostess. Luke winked at me and rang the bell.

“Yes” I replied, “Though I think it was more basting than affection”. We both laughed at that and Mork looked happier too, so I gave him a very careful pat on the head. I was turning to go home to change my muddied clothes when Mork’s owner held out his hand and introduced himself as Luke Hunter, so I told him my name, Emily Toulon, as we shook hands and then we parted. Mork made to follow me and I heard him being called back. I already knew who Luke was, I’d read all of his books.

My daughter, Katie, phoned during the afternoon, so I told her about my meeting.

“This morning I met Heathcliffe”

“Heathcliffe – who do you mean by that?”

“A man with a big dog”

“Oh, I think that you mean Mr. Rochester – what on earth are you talking about?”

So I explained to her how I was pinned down by a Saint Bernard called Mork and rescued by his owner, non other than the famous author, Luke Hunter. She immediately wanted to know if he really was good looking (for an older man) or just photogenic. I told her that he was very charming and polite and to be honest I hadn’t thought about his looks.

“Mork is a magnificent dog” I told her.

“Mum, what about the man?”

I had to think about it for a while, I was out of practise, looking at men in that way, or any way, for that matter.

I couldn’t believe that Mork would behave so badly, he was normally the politest of dogs, I left Etienne and ran over to where Emily was lying on the ground while being enthusiastically licked by Mork. She looked pretty stunned and I helped her up and we checked that she hadn’t sprained or broken anything. I apologised several times, scolded Mork and explained that he was really quite friendly and that she must have made a real impression on him. She joked that he hadn’t been licking her face, but basting it. It was nice that she had a sense of humour about it – Mork could have been in real trouble.

After we exchanged names, she gave him a very careful pat on the head, then we parted company. He tried to follow her. Mork had definitely chosen himself a new friend.

All of a sudden a huge Saint Bernard dog came bounding towards me. I suppose that he was just being friendly, but it was a pretty frightening experience when you’re not expecting it and when he jumped up to say hello, he knocked me flat on my back!  Perhaps it was a good job I didn’t see him coming until the last moment, if I’d have braced myself for the impact it would have hurt more.

There I was, lying on the ground with a huge dog on top of me, licking my face. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and I was completely helpless. Fortunately I remembered reading somewhere that Saint Bernard’s are supposed to be friendly dogs. I couldn’t see much except for dog, but I could hear footsteps running towards our direction and a man’s voice calling:

“Mork, Mork!”.

I really hoped that this was the owner coming to my rescue.  Fortunately it was and the dog, who was apparently called Mork, reluctantly released me. I sat up and felt stunned for a moment, while Mork looked as if he wanted to start licking again, but sat down patiently by my side almost as if expecting me to defend him, waiting to be scolded by his master.