Croissants and Jam by Lynda Renham

other man and says something in French and again I curse for not taking more notice in my French classes at school. He tells me it will be fine, and motions to me to get into the car. I close my eyes. Thank God. I make a decision not to move from the car until we are in Rome and also not to look at, or think about Christian anymore. I am on my way to get married, and in a few days I will be Mrs Annabel Lloyd and I cannot wait. I offer to drive and he accepts. I hand him the map and we set off again. Of course, I have no idea that the British woman will later tell the police that I was the one behind the robbery and have probably kidnapped Christian at knifepoint. I ask you, who would believe that?
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
        I drive for about two hours while Christian the builder sleeps. In fact, I am beginning to think that sleeping and eating is what he does best. The Lemon is a bugger to drive and thankfully he sleeps through my gear grinding and cursing. The roads are deserted and I cruise along admiring the scenery, passing fields of lavender and sunflowers. Golden rays of evening sunlight pierce the tree-lined road. I pass an old stone farmhouse with faded green shutters and spy an elderly couple sharing a bottle of wine in the shade of an olive tree, and try to picture Simon and myself doing something similar in years to come. Of course the vision fails to materialise somehow and I feel quite mournful. I really cannot believe I lied so easily to him. That really can’t be right can it? What if I am only marrying him because I seriously cannot bear the thought of being left on the shelf? No, that isn’t true. I care about Simon, I know I do. Yes, but of course, the question is, am I in love with him? Oh dear, I am driving myself mad with all this thinking. Of course, I am in love with him otherwise I wouldn’t have got engaged to him would I? Then again I suppose I would, if I was afraid of being left on the shelf. As the sky starts to change and dusk starts to fall I begin to feel a little like Thelma out of the film Thelma and Louise . Well, I was kind of involved in a crime so it does seem fitting. I pop square after square of Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut chocolate into my mouth and feel like quite a rebel. I have been a reformed chocoholic for the past few weeks after Kaz had told me that every square was equivalent to one inch on my hips. I stop once to check my phone only to find the battery has died, which explains why no one has called. Christian’s phone goes off several times but he does not wake up. I resist the impulse to look at his sleeping face. I have no idea what the time is but it is getting dark. I hear him stir and then let out a loud groan. He stretches beside me and hits me in the ribs.
        ‘Ah, sorry, there is not a lot of room in this car is there?’ he says lazily and yawns.
    I move slightly so our knees do not touch. I see him check his watch from the corner of my eye. He yawns again, looks at his phone and then asks me the question I had been dreading he would ask.
        ‘Where are we?’
        ‘No idea,’ I answer honestly and wait for him to explode.
    He stops reading his text and stares at me. I continue looking ahead unblinking. Okay, so I should have woken him and I did try. I called his name several times but he didn’t respond and there was no way I was going to touch him. I vaguely remembered him saying that the road I had been driving on was the one we needed, so I presumed it was fine. He fiddles with his iPhone and looks at the map. Don’t you dare shout at me, I think aggressively, just don’t you dare.
        ‘How long have you been on this road Bels?’ he asks softly but I sense he is trying to control his annoyance.
    I shake my head.
        ‘What does that mean?’ he snaps.
    I see a lay-by ahead and pull into it.
        ‘It means I have no idea,’ I shoot back.
    There is a stunned silence. He struggles to turn the