‘Somehow I think you’re doing yourself a disservice. I would have thought that someone who’s gone through what you’ve been through has had more than their fair share of experiences.’
‘Experiences of facing death, yes, but not of living. I haven’t been anywhere, I haven’t done anything,’ Emma said, almost in a whisper that sizzled with emotion. Her head dropped, as she felt the little hope she clung to fizzle and die.
Ben leaned over and, hooking his finger under her chin, lifted her head so she had to look back at him. ‘I thought we had just agreed that you hadn’t given up on life yet. There’s still time to make those experiences happen and write about them.’
Emma dropped her eyes and tried to lower her head but Ben’s hand remained firmly in place. She turned her head to escape him. ‘Time to write about them, perhaps, but not time to experience them too,’ she said softly.
Ben took his hand away and Emma’s gaze came back to meet his. ‘Tell me what I have to do to stop you simply frowning at that computer all day and make something happen,’ he demanded.
‘I need to do some research, I suppose,’ conceded Emma. ‘Trying to decide on the plot is hard enough but I can’t even describe the places I want to go to.’
‘And where do you want to go?’
‘Everywhere,’ Emma said, as if it would be that easy. Her imagination was supposed to be limitless but her experiences weren’t. ‘I’m on my way to New York but I don’t want to stop there. I want to see, I don’t know, the Seven Wonders of the World and then some. But in reality I haven’t been further than Spain.’
Ben grimaced. ‘I don’t want to burst your bubble, but I’m afraid the only one of the original Seven Wonders of the World still in existence is the Great Pyramid at Giza.’
‘See! I don’t even know where I can go.’
‘May I?’ he asked, turning Emma’s computer towards him.
Emma watched as he tapped a few buttons. There was a look of concern on his face that didn’t fill Emma with confidence.
‘It doesn’t have an Internet connection,’ he complained.
‘Because the bistro doesn’t have WiFi,’ Emma said, making a note to develop that thought later when she was a little less preoccupied.
It was Ben who was wearing the frown now as he returned his attention to Emma’s laptop. Emma watched him work his own magic tapping away at her keyboard. He was too deep in concentration to notice that she was staring at him. ‘Voila!’ he said after a couple of minutes of concentrated effort. He turned the screen back towards Emma to show her that he had miraculously connected to the Internet.
‘How did you do that, or shouldn’t I ask?’
‘I’ve got a wireless connection upstairs. Well, technically, Steven has, but he won’t mind. I’ve logged you onto the network, so you’re in!’
Emma felt a pang of guilt as she was reminded that Ben and Steven had become the new residents of the flat above the bistro whilst her sister was now technically homeless. She briefly toyed with the idea of trying to persuade Ben to squeeze in another lodger who also happened to be his landlady but she reined in her predilection for solving other people’s problems and returned her attention to the problem at hand. ‘Now what?’ she asked.
‘The Traveller’s Rest is aptly named in my case. Here, let me take you on a journey of discovery.’
Ben had logged into a photo-gallery site to access his online photo albums. Emma braced herself to be bored to tears by a collection of holiday snaps of drunken friends with cheesy grins and bottles of beer, posing in front of an assortment of bars or sprawled across nondescript beaches.
‘New York!’ she gasped. Even with her limited experience she recognized the Manhattan skyline.
‘Apparently, the design of the Statue of Liberty was based on the Colossus of Rhodes, which was another one of the Seven Wonders of the World.’
Emma was too engrossed in the photographs she was flicking through to be impressed with the wealth of Ben’s knowledge, which he was determined to share. ‘These are amazing.’
And they were. His collection of photographs marked a journey that had stretched to all four corners of the globe. They were a mixture of panoramic views and colourful close-ups, breathtaking scenery, wildlife in motion and wizened locals, all taken with the kind of precision that needed an artist’s eye to choose the right lighting, the right focus and the right moment. They were photographs that wouldn’t look out of place in National Geographic magazine.
‘I was a bit of a photography geek for a while.’
‘You should take it up professionally,’ Emma told him.
Ben shrugged off the suggestion. ‘It came in useful during my travels but it was only ever my second love. My first love is food.’
Emma was starting to warm up at last, so she shrugged off her coat and settled back in her seat as she turned her attention to Ben’s life. ‘But you could really make something of your life,’ she insisted, all thoughts of not interfering long gone.
‘I am making something of my life,’ corrected Ben. He tried to look offended but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth gave him away. ‘I travelled the world to discover new cuisines. Now don’t laugh, but goat’s cheese and chutneys are my speciality. I’m experimenting for now but my long-term plan is to go into partnership with a farm and sell my own produce.’
‘But …’ began Emma.
‘But we were sorting out your life, not mine,’ he said.
Emma nodded obediently, having the good grace to let Ben keep his own dreams. ‘You’re right. I’ll have a proper look at your photos. Seeing the world through your eyes is better than not seeing it at all and I suppose there’s always Google Earth.’
‘How about a trip to the museum? It’s not exactly travelling the world but it has to be better than relying on a computer for all your inspiration. The World Museum has tons of exhibits that might give you more ideas. You can take a notebook and I’ll take my camera.’ The enthusiasm in Ben’s voice was being exaggerated to make up for the lack of reaction from Emma.
‘I’m not sure,’ Emma replied, not quite knowing why she was unsure or at least not acknowledging that it was more than Ben’s offer attracting her.
‘OK, I won’t push but if you’re at a loose end on Sunday, give me a shout.’
‘Thank you, Ben,’ Emma said, and she felt her heart lighten a little.
‘Any time,’ he said with a wink.
‘Any time except maybe now,’ added Emma. Louise had appeared and was busily looking for her wayward chef. Dutifully, Ben disappeared back into the kitchen and as Louise made her way over to join her sister, Emma felt ready to face a world where she would choose her own wonders at which to marvel.
Kate Barton had made the transition from forties to fifties with effortless ease. Her blonde hair was clipped back in a tight French bun as always, her makeup immaculate and her dress understated but somehow still making a bold statement. I felt a familiar sense of awe. This was the woman who I had aspired to be and, once upon a time, I had felt I was getting close, but now the gulf seemed unassailable.
‘More champagne?’ she asked.
I looked down at my empty glass; nerves had clearly got the better of me. ‘Maybe I should keep my head clear,’ I told her. I wanted to pinch myself but, with the view I could see out of the window,