His eyes crinkle as he smiles at me, and he is like some kind of Mancunian saviour in the middle of Monaco.
‘Cheers. Look, I’ll put everything else back, but if you could get the milk for me, I’d really appreciate it. Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how desperate I am for that caffeine hit.’
He offers to pay for the whole basket, but I tell him there is no need. The milk will be sufficient, that’s the most urgent item. In the end, we compromise, and I take the bottle of water too, as I can see the queue behind me is now stretching around the corner.
I take my goods and thank the Mancunian saviour once again.
Happily walking up the hill, taking a big swig of water, I smile as I think how kind the man was and how his eyes crinkled as he grinned. It might have been horrifying to stand there with no money, but what a lovely man to bump into and at just the right moment. Thank goodness for fellow Brits abroad!
By the time I open the door to the apartment, Soraya and Carol are up and about.
‘I was just going to go down to the shops. So sorry I slept in,’ says Soraya as she sees me carrying the milk.
I can’t help noticing how magnificent Soraya looks, even at this time in the morning, as her long dark curls swing loosely over her flowing pink kaftan.
‘It’s fine. It was a long day yesterday, and you drank quite a bit of the champers. You needed a lie-in. You wouldn’t believe what happened though.’
I tell them both about the man in the supermarket, and we all thank our lucky stars that I managed to bring home the milk.
We root through the cupboards and find a couple of fancy mugs with some kind of crest design on them and take our drinks outside to the balcony. The heat hits me once again. It’s going to be a warm day for sure.
The view from last night is clearer in the daylight, and I can see the yachts in more detail. The flags now barely move as the wind has died down, although the smell of Soraya’s fancy moisturiser still manages to waft across to me in the slight breeze.
‘I think this is the nicest cup of tea I’ve ever had,’ I say, taking a big sip.
‘Is that because a hunk from Manchester bought you the milk, or because you were desperate for a cuppa?’ teases Carol.
‘He was just a nice, normal guy who helped a fellow Brit in need. That’s all. It’s the best cup of tea ever because I was desperate for caffeine. Well, and these mugs are gorgeous.’
‘Do you think Gianni would notice if I took one home?’ asks Carol.
‘Don’t you dare,’ says Soraya, glaring at her.
‘You’re lucky Dave isn’t here. He’d have the lot.’
Carol had met Dave on a dodgy dating site after her divorce. I just seem to be surrounded by stories of men like Dave.
‘Has he ever tried to get in touch again after you caught him stealing your undies?’ asks Soraya.
‘No. I made sure I blocked him from everything. Weirdo. I’m done with dating.’
‘Oh, me too. I am so not interested.’
‘I know I’m so lucky with Andrew. We have our moments, of course, but he’s an amazing, hard-working, decent man.’
The three of us lift our cups in a salute to Andrew.
‘To men like the amazing Andrew who spoil their wives and let us tag along.’
We finish off our drinks, and Carol offers to make us another cup. As I wait for her to come back out, I look at the views of the Monaco marina in the daylight. It looks different from last night as I watch everyone hurry about.
‘Look at all those boats. Stunning.’
‘I know. I thought there were nice boats in Swansea Marina, but this is something else,’ says Soraya.
Andrew mentioned in the car on the way to the airport that Port Hercules is one of the bigger marinas in Monaco and it is obvious from the size of some of the boats.
‘Look at that one over there…’ Soraya points to what must be the largest yacht in the marina.
