Charlene and I took a slow, romantic stroll along the Canal du Midi over lunch. It wasn’t that we were going to sneak away and make passionate love in the midday sun, on a bed of fallen leaves by the water’s edge – not romantic in that sense. More that it was a guy and a girl getting away from the hubbub of the group to spend a little time together, enjoying each other’s company without interruption.
We sat on the bank, Bonjour!-ing at passing cyclists, and talking about our lives. I talked about Liz B, and about Pippa, about Rigby, about Sonya and about Liz. We dubbed her Elizabeth II. Chaz talked about being engaged, and not being engaged anymore. We sprawled and laughed, listening and smiling. It was one of my highlights of the whole trip.
As we walked back up through the terraced garden, our assembled friends were leaning over the top balcony, sizing us up. Have those two, they wondered collectively, been having sexy time? Vinny asked me straight up. I shook my head.
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