Free Two Days in Biarritz by Michelle Jackson

She took it from her pocket and was thankful for caller identification. She switched it off immediately on recognising Annabel’s number. How could she talk to her ever again?
    It was hard to remember back to the ferry trip across St George’s Channel – twenty years was a long time. If only she hadn’t gone off with that French youth! And to think her father must have known then of her own promiscuous activities and condoned it . . .
     
     
    Annabel was in the tiny shower when Kate turned the handle on their cabin-door the next morning.
    “I’m so sorry for disappearing all night,” she sa id sheepishly through the tiny bathroom door.
    “That’s okay,” Annabel called out. “I’d a great night’s sleep.”
    “Annabel, I think I’m in love, that guy is the most delicious creature that God created.”
    Annabel stepped out of the tiny bathroom dripping water and drying her hair with an off-white towel.
    “What about poor Shane?”
    “Annabel, what Shane doesn’t know won’t hurt him – anyway I keep telling you that ours is a non-jealous type of relationship.”
    “You mean, he’s so crazy about you, he’ll forgive any little misdemeanours you’re likely to get up to?”
    “Annabel , you make me sound like a slapper” Kate berated.
     
    The appalling nerve of her! When all this time Annabel was the slapper. She wanted to go to Annabel roar and shout and scream at her but decided that it was best for the moment to let it all settle down – until she figured out what to do. 
     
     
    * * *
     
    Back in Biarritz, Annabel gave her key slowly over to the receptionist and paid her half of the bill. Her head throbbed and her stomach ached and she realised that it was more than a hangover that had her feeling this way.
    “I hope you had a nice stay?” the receptionist beamed.
    “Lovely, thanks,” Annabel gave a wry smile in return. “Could you call me a taxi for the airport, please?”
    “Of course.”
    Annabel waited in the small foyer where only two nights ago she had stood with her best friend and the two surfers. If only she could turn the clock back. She vaguely remembered Nico putting her to bed the night before but wasn’t bothered about him. She was no longer concerned about any guilt she might carry home after her indiscretion. All she cared about was Kate and explaining her story properly – without the influence of alcohol. If Kate realised how much Annabel adored her father maybe she would feel differently. There was nothing sordid about their love affair and they both did what was best for their loved ones in the end. Surely Kate could see it from their point of view?
    A taxi driver entered the foyer and the receptionist pointed over in Annabel’s direction.
    “Bonjour,” he said with a nod of his head and took her case with courtesy.
    Annabel sat silently in the back of the Mercedes Benz all the way to the airport. She was used to travelling in Mercs – Colin always had one as his company car. She was going back to the life she knew so well. But everything seemed different now. She’d had a brief sample of what she was missing all these years, the other night with Nico. That passion was never there in her relationship with Colin – and now the thought of making love to her husband again sickened her right through to the pit of her stomach. She would love to have the guts to do something about it but it would mean giving up so much – security, position, comfort. At the moment though, none of those seemed very important. All that really mattered was Kate, and making amends to her.
    The car pulled up to the Departures Hall and Annabel paid the driver his dues. The airport was so small and convenient that in only minutes she was passing through the tiny duty-free, after checking her bags in.
    “ Madames et Monsieurs, votre vol au Dublin, est près á l’embarquement ,” a voice called over the tanoy.
    Annabel joined the small queue. Most of those around her were business people