They had arranged for a car and driver to take her to the airport, and she turned back to look at the boat that had been so wonderful for them. Her heart ached now that they were gone, and she looked at the boat longingly as they drove away. She had so many questions in her mind now after living with them for almost two weeks, about Phillip and Amanda, and Alex, and Liz and her book. She had been so much a part of their daily lives, and now she was back to her own nomadic life, heading for London on her own.
She checked in at the British Airways counter at the Nice airport, and an hour later she boarded the plane. As she sat in the first-class lounge before that, she texted all of them about how much she missed them, and how much fun she’d had with them on the trip. Alex answered her immediately. She knew that Liz and the girls were already on their plane. Phillip and Amanda were in the air too. And then she had to turn her own phone off and put it away. She was thinking about all of them as her plane took off for London. And she looked somber when they landed at Heathrow, and she was met by her driver from Claridge’s. He took her to the hotel, where she checked in to her usual suite, which was decorated in bright corals and floral chintzes, and she was startled when the phone rang. She had been lost in thought, and she wanted to order something to eat before she left to see the store. She was surprised when she heard Peter Williams’s voice on the phone.
“I just wanted to be sure you got to London safely. How did the trip go?” He sounded happy to talk to her, and it was nice to hear a friendly voice. She had been feeling so alone.
“It was beyond wonderful. I’m so sad it’s over. I hate to wait another year to go on vacation with them again.”
“I always feel that way when my kids leave Maine too. It’s just not the same when you don’t live with them anymore. And it’s such a gift when you can spend time with them here and there.” It was exactly what she was feeling about the trip.
“I think I’m having withdrawal,” she admitted as she looked out the window of her hotel room. She was homesick for all of them, and she wondered if this was how they had felt when she was away when they were young, as though their hearts had been ripped out through their noses. If so, she thought it was suitable punishment for her that she felt that way now.
“Happy birthday, by the way, a day late. It must have been fun to spend it with the kids.”
“It was. We danced till three A.M. We did that several times on the trip. In Sardinia we stayed up till five A.M.”
“You must be a lot younger than I am,” he said ruefully. “The last time I stayed up till five A.M. was when my son was born.”
“Me too. But I went dancing with my grandchildren. You have to stay on top of it for them.”
“Fortunately, mine aren’t old enough to go dancing yet. And when they are, I’ll be in a wheelchair in a nursing home somewhere.”
“I hope not,” she said, laughing at him.
“I don’t want to be the bearer of bad tidings, but the press has been agitating about the child labor issue at the factories in Asia again.”
“I know. I got a memo about it from my office two days ago, and I told them to copy you on it. Do they know anything we don’t?” She sounded concerned. She had tried not to get upset about it on the trip, but it was an issue she always wanted to keep a close watch on. And if they were going to have to make major changes, she wanted to be prepared. The interview she had done before the trip had gone well, but the press was always unpredictable, and they both knew that the tides of public favor could turn at any time.
“I don’t think so. I just think they like stirring the pot, to see what bubbles to the surface. I don’t think there’s anything new. Those countries are always going to be a problem on human rights issues, but we have no solid proof that any