She still couldn't believe that she was sitting on the plane and in less than three hours, she would be in her beloved Paris. Despite the fact that it was not so far away, due to her life plan being jam-packed to the limit, she could not pay the visit there earlier.
She had to fall ill to have free time. In addition, friends had to use a trick to make her forget about work. It was really pathetic when she thought about what had happened to her life. There hadn’t been even a hint of spontaneity in the recent years.
What happened to her? She became the person she swore not to be. Has she grown up? Is this what the life of mature people is like?
Everything in her life had to be carefully planned. At work, she had a plan for any unanticipated situation. Seemingly impossible, but it was so. Working in public relations, she had all the possible scenarios for her clients. Everything had to perfectly work out. She couldn't remember being surprised by anything. Was it professionalism?
Things began to be similar in her private life. No surprise. Just a plan and sticking to it strictly. Even her improvisations were no longer improvisations, but behaviours that had been learned, practiced and perfected.
However, now it was almost half past five in the morning and she was on the plane. In two and half hours, she will be in Paris, which she had fallen in love with at first sight from her first visit there, years ago. She was so happy. So many thoughts were racing in her mind that she forgot about the breakfast she had on her table in front of her.
Next to her sat Matthew who, although they had only been on the plane for 10 minutes, had already fallen asleep. This wasn't his normal behaviour. On his table was also the paper bag containing the breakfast that Mike had bought for them while they were checking in. Looking at his face, she knew that they didn't sleep last night. She was sure these two were partying until morning.
Yesterday Mike and Matthew had a few drinks and were talking about work related issues. She didn't feel like sharing her thoughts about hers, especially since she had been thinking about her job for the past few days. When they had started talking about female colleagues from work, their behavior and appearance, she knew that this was the moment when she should leave their company. Besides, staying with people who were drinking alcohol, when she wasn’t drinking and neither was she allowed to drink, was pointless. She didn't share their enthusiasm, so she quickly packed up and went to sleep. It looked like it was a good decision.
Jo felt comfortable that her companion was asleep. She didn't have to talk. She took his breakfast bag away, folded his table and fastened his seat belt. He was still sleeping sweetly. She was planning to check her emails very quickly, but instead received a message from Mike. He was worried about her and asking if she still had stomach pains or any discomfort. He reminded her that in a few minutes, she should take an antibiotic but eat first. It was almost time for her medication and she hadn't eaten yet. She just replied in a short message to Mike that they were just taxiing to the runway and the plane would be taking off in a moment. She turned off her mobile phone and fastened her seat belt.
As soon as the plane reached the cruising altitude, she unfolded her table and unpacked her breakfast. Peeking into the bag, she was surprised to find a variety of so many things: mineral water, carrot and beet juice, fruit salad, sandwich, yogurt and even a protein bar. As soon as the crew started serving breakfast, she only asked for hot tea.
The view outside enthralled her. The feeling of being so high above the clouds, the expanse of the clear blue sky and the tiny establishments visible from up there, all of that filled Jo with a certain sense of freedom.
The plane landed in Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport at 8.10 am. Jo was so happy when she saw the Concorde plane standing on the apron between the terminals. She took a few pictures of the famous turbojet-powered supersonic passenger airliner with her phone.
"Are you excited?" Matthew asked. He was just finishing his breakfast.
"Yeah. I am so happy! I haven’t been in Paris for almost two years."
"Do you have any specific places in mind where we should visit first? Musée de l'Air et de l'Espace in Le Bourget? Or maybe we should act spontaneously?"
"Le Bourget,” She paused for a moment. “I've been there dozens of times at air shows. To be honest, I think I was there almost every time I was in Paris. Enough. At least for now. I have a few places in mind where I would like to go, but not related to aviation or any museums, this time. Recently, I just missed the atmosphere of the city itself."
"Aha. Boulvard Saint Germain, stalls along the Seine, good french food. I think I know what you mean. We will come back here soon as I said.” He had in mind what he had said yesterday. “I will take a week or two off when I will sort out a few things at work. Besides, you can always come over on the weekend if you want. You know that my parents' apartment is always open to you."
"I know. I was there many times. We will see. For the moment, I am so busy. Have to sort out so many things." She didn't want to make promises, she didn't know when she would be able to take some days off.
She had so many days of holidays left, still had almost all from last year. She just had to find a way to organise that. "No museums and galleries this time. Maybe lunch at the top of Eiffel Tower or Pompidou Centre." She teased him.
"Haha. You wish! At this time of the year, the queue to the Eiffel Tower is very long. I don't feel like waiting for two hours just to take the magnificent glass lift to the top."
"You really don't like the lift there. You can close your eyes and I will hold your hands." She couldn't help laughing when she remembered the fear in his eyes in the elevator the last time they were here on a windy autumn afternoon.
"I am a tough guy with acrophobia." Although Matthew gave a valid point to justify his fear, he was laughing too.
"I know. I know that you are a really tough guy."
From the Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport to the city they took Roissybus. During the fifty minutes of travel to the centre of Paris, they passed by the Palais Garnier, and no doubt, Jo fell in love with the place. It was one of the most famous opera houses in the world and also a symbol of Paris like the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame Cathedral, or the Sacré Coeur Basilica. The Palais Garnier was also known as the place of action of the novel Phantom of the Opera written by Gaston Leroux. The book was successfully adapted into various stage and film adaptations.
"Every time I am here, I think about Andrew Loyd Webber's musical Phantom of the Opera." Jo said as she was looking at the beautiful building. The interior was even more stunning; she had been there a few times.
"I think my parents still have a DVD with the musical. We can watch it or just listen to the music tonight." Matthew suggested. "Let's take a taxi to go home."
"Could we walk? Our suitcases are not heavy and it is a maximum of twenty minutes walk to your parents' apartment."
Matthew wasn't thrilled with the idea. His parents' apartment was on Rue de Verneuil, on the other side of the Seine, close to Louvre. In fact it wasn't far but with the suitcases, it was a longer walk and not very comfortable.
"Jo, let's take a bus, just two stops, and we will get off at Louvre. You will have a view of your favourite Jardin des Tuileries and Musee d'Orsay, we will cross Seine. We still have our suitcases with us."
They compromised and took the bus, and got off at Louvre.
It was still early and hence, there weren't many tourists. She wished she had her camera with her. Sighing, she took out her mobile phone and decided to take some photos of the glass pyramids. It was a beautiful sunny morning and the sky was almost clear. The blue reflected in the glass of the pyramids. She had to capture it, even with the phone.
Matthew knew her. Photography was one of her passions. He was patient and thus, waited with her luggage as she walked around the pyramids taking pictures. If she saw something interesting or curious, even a play of light, she would not give up. That was her real character. She would keep waiting and taking pictures until she captured what interests her.
The outcome? The photos she took were amazing. He admired her for that. Sometimes she would spend hours watching someone before catching the expression on somebody's face.
On the way home they stopped at a bakery, near Matt's parents’ apartment. They bought croissants, brioche and freshly baked bread.
"Nothing changed here." Jo looked around the familiar apartment. She used to be there regularly before she was completely consumed by workaholism. She had his parents' permission to use the apartment whenever she wanted, but had hardly travelled for the past few years. Her life was mostly work.
"Yes. Since I remember nothing really changed here. Everything has been the same for the last thirty years." Matthew was laughing. He was tired of the sight, but neither he nor his parents had time to do anything here, except to paint and refresh every few years. "Only the shade colour of the walls changes every few years."
"I did not notice." She joked while standing by the window and looking at the top of the Eiffel Tower. "Besides, I love the fact that time seems to stop here. I have so many memories of that place.”
“Anyway, we should change into less formal clothes and comfortable shoes first. Then we can go for a long walk along the Seine." There was a happy twinkle in her eyes as she suggested. “But let’s have Russian Earl Grey Tea and croissants first!” She exclaimed.
Hearing her, Matthew knew that he had a very long day ahead of him. He wished he had slept last night. Now he had no choice, he had to pretend.
“We already had dinner; Martin took care of our meals today.” Jack informed them.“Good guy! He also brought food for us.” Patrick realized that they had such a good time that he didn't even call and thank them for the catering. “I should call and at least say thank you.”“I already did that. We will have the catering all week.”“Sounds good, but I wish I could make use of the kitchen here too.” Patrick had some plans.“Why don't you spend your holidays far away from the kitchen? There are so many beautiful places to visit around. Besides, I'll take care of Mike.” Jack really wished that they would have a good time.“We cannot burden you with caring for him. We have to get a nurse tomorrow. And you should travel with us.”Jack was glad to hear that he wouldn't have to babysit Mike even though that one didn’t cause him any problems throughout the day. He had a great time with the bunch of big kids, and he wanted to spend some time traveling around too.Besides, his boss had clearly mar
Jo was extremely happy to see the hammock outside in the beautiful surroundings. She immediately started walking towards it.Behind her were Patrick and Matthew. When they made sure that she was comfortable, they started to unpack and unfold the garden furniture.In the next half an hour, they had dealt with most of the setting up. The patio immediately changed its face to an elegant and, above all, a comfortable place to relax. A few wooden deck chairs with a low table and umbrellas were placed near the swimming pool.The guys also put a long wooden table with eight chairs under an electric marquise, parallel to the glass wall of the villa and of course near the kitchen and dining room doors.“The table looks so good!” Jo commented from the hammock.“I feel like I am on a boat.” Matthew joked.“The owner loves sailing, so you are right. Only the wooden steering wheel is missing.” Jo laughed. She also noticed so many things related to marine life.“A wooden steering wheel sounds good.
”Are you worrying about Mike?” Patrick asked, seeing consternation and some kind of sadness on Jo’s face.“No, I am not worried about that asshole. He deserved it.”“Nobody deserves anything like this, badass.”“That’s not what I meant.”Patrick looked at her expecting some more explanations.“He shouldn't have gone out with you the previous day. He knew it perfectly well, so it was one hundred percent his fault. So, in that sense, he deserves it.”“I agree, but still, he is a man. You don’t understand male pride, badass.”“I understand him more than you can imagine. It’s just his fucking character.”“All of us, we have ‘interesting’ personalities, badass. For most of the people around us, we are assholes.”“I am not questioning it, Pat.” She hesitated for a moment. “But this fucking macho is one of his kind...”Patrick was speechless. He couldn’t argue with that. While he had a lot of understanding of the people around him, Mike was still a special case to him. But still he tolerated
Right after breakfast, Jack took Mike to the clinic. The atmosphere instantly relaxed inside the villa. They were still sitting at the kitchen table with tea and French pastries and discussing how to teach their dear friend a lesson.“You are a poor teacher, Matt.” Jo said, very disappointed with her friend. “These pancakes are awful.” She winced as she ate, wondering where Mike went wrong with that very simple task.“Am I really a poor teacher?” Matthew mocked in a slurping voice. “Or maybe our friend is a bad student? Did you consider that?”“Could we leave aside his cooking skills, guys?” Patrick exclaimed. “The main thing is that the guy can cook, so he will not die of hunger. That’s what matters!”“Really? Did you try that?” Jo pointed at the pancake.“No, and I'm not going to. I watched the anguish when Jack was consuming it. In general, he is not very picky about food so it must be eatable.”“Well, you have to try it.” Jo wanted to force him and put a piece of pancake on a fork
Mike was the first to get up. He was not able to accept ‘the doing nothing’ state and being attached to one place, to his bed, any longer.Slowly, without making any noise, he trodded downstairs. It wasn't too complicated with the help of crutches.He found the perfect order and plenty of food in the kitchen.‘These stocks were made, probably with me in mind. They want to leave me again." He assumed looking at the refrigerator full to the brim.He decided to prepare something for everyone. His skills were far from Matthew's, but after all, he could prepare something nonetheless.He made pancakes, and a typical continental breakfast: fried bacon, sausages, black pudding, some stewed mushrooms and tomatoes. He also made a smoothie out of whatever greens he could find in the refrigerator.“Good morning!” Patrick’s voice disrupted his work on the fruit salad.“Good morning.” He wasn’t happy to see him. “Did you sleep well, man?” Mike asked ironically. He really wanted to ask if he had goo
Mike felt much better after a nutritious lunch. There was no sign of a hangover; the only thing that bothered him, even after strong painkillers, was the ache in his ankle.He was changing the ice packs, and putting on more anti-inflammatory creams, but it didn’t help much. As soon as he was trying to put his foot flat on the floor, he saw ‘all the stars in the sky’ from pain.He didn't know if he would trigger the alarm again by opening the bedroom door, and he didn't feel like testing it.He went out onto the terrace a few times, but it was too hot to stay there.‘Why do I have to sit alone, in a deserted place like that?’ He thought. ‘I didn't have to travel so many kilometers to be accompanied only by empty walls. Did I?’ He wondered looking around the empty room.‘It is no different from my everyday life. Should holidays be like that? Do I deserve it?’ Hundreds of thoughts swirled in his head.Despite his exhaustion, he couldn’t sleep. There was no TV in the room, and watching mo
Mike was lying on his stomach with his head covered with a pillow, asking the heavens for silence. He had never imagined in his life that he would ask for such trivial things. He didn't know for how long he prayed, but he was at the end of his tether. Even if he wanted to leave the house to relocate somewhere in the garden or on the terrace, to not hear the alarm, he was not able to move that far jumping only on his uninjured leg.‘I know it's my fault, but why doesn't Jo have any pity on me? I always thought that she was an angel with a golden heart, but why is she heartless now?’ He made assumptions. ‘She knows I have a goddamn hangover. Plus, I smashed my ankle. Isn't it enough punishment for me to be here, in the middle of nowhere, alone?’Mike thought about so many things looking for a solution and he was really desperate. Finally, some clue appeared in his sore brain. He recalled that when Jo was taking a shower, there was absolutely no noise outside, so there must have been g
Mike was really pissed off. He screwed up his vacation, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had to accept and bear with it. As soon as he heard that the car drove away, he got up and jumped on one leg to his suitcase, and pulled out clothes which would be less obstructive in his general movements like, a loose T-shirt and short cotton shorts. He hung his ironed clothes on the armchair standing next to the bed. He returned to the bed and unwrapped the bandage. His ankle didn't look the best. The hematoma was visible on the entire surface of his ankle, despite the already quite large swelling. Considering the state of his injury, he was sure that the best solution after all was to stay at home. He lied down, tipping from side to side impatiently for a while, but couldn't fall asleep. Too many thoughts swirled in his aching head. He got up and decided to change the atmosphere of the semi-dark room a bit. ‘Damnit! It's so dark here!' He muttered under his breath and opene
As soon as Jo realized what had happened, she lost her good mood. ‘It was predictable! Will this asshole ever grow up?’ She cursed under her breath. She felt guilty about letting him come out of the house in such a bad shape at all. She blew into Mike's bedroom, without even knocking the door beforehand, like a hurricane with a destructive force. She was ready to deal properly with her rebellious, bullish friend and all his faults, who tried to disguise from her the fact that he had sprained his leg. The image she saw right after opening the door made her feel sick, as she predicted. She was truly disgusted. Mike's hair was still wet after the shower, and his face was perfectly shaved. He was dressed in a white polo shirt, perfectly ironed, and baggy khaki cargo pants. He was sitting on the bed with his left leg propped up on the bed. His pants were rolled up as he was bandaging his ankle. On the bed, she also noticed a tube of very strong painkiller ointment. “What a fucking as