Falling in Love
Annette looked into his eyes and knew, without a doubt, that she had fallen deeply and irrevocably in love for the first time in her life.
**************************************************
The plane touched down smoothly and Annette busied herself putting away her laptop, notes and earphones into her briefcase. Her work took her regularly between New York, Paris and London, but it was Paris that she regarded as home, despite growing up in South London. There was little time for reflection as she progressed through the baggage hall and passport control and met up with her regular taxi driver, Andre, who ferried her swiftly to her small one-bedroomed apartment in the 17e Arrondissement. There were many more fashionable and lively places to live in Paris, but the relatively low profile of the 17e made it more affordable and as she was away so much, her lock-up and leave apartment suited her perfectly.
As she opened the shutters, letting in the soft morning light, she pressed ‘play’ to listen to her messages. The last one was from Aled. She had only met him once, when he visited Paris for a long week-end, but she had liked his quiet, easy-going manner and gentle approach to life. She listened to the message twice and made a decision to go over to the UK immediately.
She was lucky enough to get a seat on Eurostar on the lunch-time train, and only pausing to unpack and repack she was back in a taxi and on her way. She’d given some thought to what to wear, thinking that her office city suits and smart blouses would look out of place. Settling on cream light-weight woollen slacks, a coffee-coloured cotton shirt and a calf-length camel coat she checked her appearance in the mirror, and hoped that she’d struck the right chord - casual and unfussy. Ankle boots completed the outfit and picking up her overnight bag, checking that she’d got her passport she locked the door behind her.
Almost before she knew it she was on the underground, crossing from St Pancras to Euston for the train north. Despite having an international life style, she realised that she had only been north of London once - to a business meeting in Edinburgh. Who would have thought, she mused that her life would have turned out the way it had. She had worked hard, very hard, and had risen through the world of Public Relations to a high flying job with a seat on the board and wide-ranging responsibilities. She had, of course, had to make sacrifices along the way. The biggest was, undoubtedly, the time she didn’t spend with her only child, Shelley. She had been lucky that her sister and her mum had been on hand to help, but Annette often wondered if she had done the right thing.
She was young, only just 22, when she had met Justin, Shelley’s dad. It had been a whirlwind romance - passionate meetings crammed in between his tours of duty as a pilot in the RAF and her already jet-setting career. She found she was pregnant with Shelley just a week after Justin had died in a horrific training accident. His parents wanted nothing to do with the girl they thought had seduced their son and was after his money. Annette was left to cope as best she could. There had been boy-friends and brief relationships since, but no one had come close to stirring her heart like Justin had and as the years passed and her career became ever more demanding, she, too, became harder to please.
She also realised that what she had felt for Justin was passionate, but not the sort of love that would have endured over the years.
The train drew into Crewe station, and Annette found the platform for the Holyhead train. She just had time to get a coffee before the train arrived, and by now very tired, she was glad it wasn’t too busy and she easily got a seat. She had phoned ahead to ask Aled to arrange a taxi for her from Prestatyn - the nearest station to his home. Sure enough, a kindly taxi driver with a strong accent ushered her into the front seat, ensuring she was warm enough and asking about her journey.
The taxi left the small coastal town and climbed up into the rolling hills, where every turn seemed to reveal breathtaking views and ever narrower roads, until at last he turned off down a rutted track and drew to a halt outside a traditional long, low Welsh farmhouse, nestling in the shelter of green hills.
Aled was at the opened door before Annette reached for the door knocker. Smiling broadly, he kissed her - on both cheeks, Continental style, which made her smile.
“Hello Annette, bach. It’s great to see you.” Annette smiled at him and stood a little uncertainly on the doorstep, not quite knowing what to expect. The one occasion she had met her daughter’s finance had been in very different surroundings. In his own home, surrounded by the land he had farmed since he left school to work on the farm with his father he seemed older, more self-assured and confident. A small, rotund lady appeared behind Aled. Aled introduced them, “Annette, this is my Mam, Megan. Mam - meet Annette”. They smiled at each other and Megan ushered her into a stone-flagged hallway.
“Come on in, bach, you’ve had a long journey.”
Annette picked her way carefully along the uneven flag stoned floor, glancing at the framed photos displayed all over the white painted rough cast walls. She instinctively ducked her head as she went through the kitchen doorway, thinking to herself that she really should have worn jeans and a casual t-shirt and jumper. She felt a bit out of place and very over-dressed! But Megan was chattering away asking if she had had a good journey and was she ready for a good hearty Welsh tea - “We’ve kept it warm for you, bach and the kettle’s on the hob.”
Even as Annette smiled her thanks her attention was caught by the high-backed wing chair drawn up close to the range with its welcoming log fire. The occupant of the chair sat up, turning to see who was coming in, and her face lit up in total delight as she greeted the mother she hadn’t seen for far too long.
“Don’t get up, Shelley”, cautioned Annette. In two or three steps she was at her daughter’s side, crouching down to give her a hug and kiss. Shelley, her face shining with happiness wordlessly held out a small bundle, wrapped in an exquisitely hand crocheted blue blanket. Annette tenderly picked up the tiny, sleepy one day old baby from her only daughter’s arms.
“Hello, my beautiful, precious Grandson”, Annette whispered, as he yawned, looked up and opened his eyes. And she knew with a certainty she had never felt before that this love for her tiny precious grandchild would last for ever.
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Annette looked into his eyes and knew, without a doubt, that she had fallen deeply and irrevocably in love for the first time in her life.
**************************************************
The plane touched down smoothly and Annette busied herself putting away her laptop, notes and earphones into her briefcase. Her work took her regularly between New York, Paris and London, but it was Paris that she regarded as home, despite growing up in South London. There was little time for reflection as she progressed through the baggage hall and passport control and met up with her regular taxi driver, Andre, who ferried her swiftly to her small one-bedroomed apartment in the 17e Arrondissement. There were many more fashionable and lively places to live in Paris, but the relatively low profile of the 17e made it more affordable and as she was away so much, her lock-up and leave apartment suited her perfectly.
As she opened the shutters, letting in the soft morning light, she pressed ‘play’ to listen to her messages. The last one was from Aled. She had only met him once, when he visited Paris for a long week-end, but she had liked his quiet, easy-going manner and gentle approach to life. She listened to the message twice and made a decision to go over to the UK immediately.
She was lucky enough to get a seat on Eurostar on the lunch-time train, and only pausing to unpack and repack she was back in a taxi and on her way. She’d given some thought to what to wear, thinking that her office city suits and smart blouses would look out of place. Settling on cream light-weight woollen slacks, a coffee-coloured cotton shirt and a calf-length camel coat she checked her appearance in the mirror, and hoped that she’d struck the right chord - casual and unfussy. Ankle boots completed the outfit and picking up her overnight bag, checking that she’d got her passport she locked the door behind her.
Almost before she knew it she was on the underground, crossing from St Pancras to Euston for the train north. Despite having an international life style, she realised that she had only been north of London once - to a business meeting in Edinburgh. Who would have thought, she mused that her life would have turned out the way it had. She had worked hard, very hard, and had risen through the world of Public Relations to a high flying job with a seat on the board and wide-ranging responsibilities. She had, of course, had to make sacrifices along the way. The biggest was, undoubtedly, the time she didn’t spend with her only child, Shelley. She had been lucky that her sister and her mum had been on hand to help, but Annette often wondered if she had done the right thing.
She was young, only just 22, when she had met Justin, Shelley’s dad. It had been a whirlwind romance - passionate meetings crammed in between his tours of duty as a pilot in the RAF and her already jet-setting career. She found she was pregnant with Shelley just a week after Justin had died in a horrific training accident. His parents wanted nothing to do with the girl they thought had seduced their son and was after his money. Annette was left to cope as best she could. There had been boy-friends and brief relationships since, but no one had come close to stirring her heart like Justin had and as the years passed and her career became ever more demanding, she, too, became harder to please.
She also realised that what she had felt for Justin was passionate, but not the sort of love that would have endured over the years.
The train drew into Crewe station, and Annette found the platform for the Holyhead train. She just had time to get a coffee before the train arrived, and by now very tired, she was glad it wasn’t too busy and she easily got a seat. She had phoned ahead to ask Aled to arrange a taxi for her from Prestatyn - the nearest station to his home. Sure enough, a kindly taxi driver with a strong accent ushered her into the front seat, ensuring she was warm enough and asking about her journey.
The taxi left the small coastal town and climbed up into the rolling hills, where every turn seemed to reveal breathtaking views and ever narrower roads, until at last he turned off down a rutted track and drew to a halt outside a traditional long, low Welsh farmhouse, nestling in the shelter of green hills.
Aled was at the opened door before Annette reached for the door knocker. Smiling broadly, he kissed her - on both cheeks, Continental style, which made her smile.
“Hello Annette, bach. It’s great to see you.” Annette smiled at him and stood a little uncertainly on the doorstep, not quite knowing what to expect. The one occasion she had met her daughter’s finance had been in very different surroundings. In his own home, surrounded by the land he had farmed since he left school to work on the farm with his father he seemed older, more self-assured and confident. A small, rotund lady appeared behind Aled. Aled introduced them, “Annette, this is my Mam, Megan. Mam - meet Annette”. They smiled at each other and Megan ushered her into a stone-flagged hallway.
“Come on in, bach, you’ve had a long journey.”
Annette picked her way carefully along the uneven flag stoned floor, glancing at the framed photos displayed all over the white painted rough cast walls. She instinctively ducked her head as she went through the kitchen doorway, thinking to herself that she really should have worn jeans and a casual t-shirt and jumper. She felt a bit out of place and very over-dressed! But Megan was chattering away asking if she had had a good journey and was she ready for a good hearty Welsh tea - “We’ve kept it warm for you, bach and the kettle’s on the hob.”
Even as Annette smiled her thanks her attention was caught by the high-backed wing chair drawn up close to the range with its welcoming log fire. The occupant of the chair sat up, turning to see who was coming in, and her face lit up in total delight as she greeted the mother she hadn’t seen for far too long.
“Don’t get up, Shelley”, cautioned Annette. In two or three steps she was at her daughter’s side, crouching down to give her a hug and kiss. Shelley, her face shining with happiness wordlessly held out a small bundle, wrapped in an exquisitely hand crocheted blue blanket. Annette tenderly picked up the tiny, sleepy one day old baby from her only daughter’s arms.
“Hello, my beautiful, precious Grandson”, Annette whispered, as he yawned, looked up and opened his eyes. And she knew with a certainty she had never felt before that this love for her tiny precious grandchild would last for ever.
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