Dinner in Cannes

Français : Le phare de Nice (Alpes-Maritimes, ...

So there I was diving into the deep sparkling waters of  the Mediterranean. The sea was transparent, the weather perfect with that azure sky only the French Riviera can offer. I was swimming towards the palm lined, sun-soaked beach, carried in on the deep roll of the waves. The whole day  lay ahead with the promise of a romantic evening on the yacht, and dinner with the captain. What more could any girl ask?

But what would I wear to dinner? And what about the captain? Why I hardly knew him. My mind was in a whirl as I dipped and dived among the waves.

Suddenly there was a roar.

“Ettie, what’s for dinner?

Well there you go. I was out of  the Mediterranean and back in my dull, dining room, rain streaming down the French windows in one trillionth of a second. I was devastated.

Himself  burst in the door, a grin on his face from ear to ear.

“I’m starving,” he said. ”Just wondering if you’ve thought about what you’re cooking for dinner yet?”

“No darling,” I said. “I was having dinner on board a yacht off  Cannes tonight. I hadn’t thought about cooking for us.”

“Oh,” he said as he glanced down at my page. “So what’s this story about?” He gave one of his discontented sighs.

“I honestly don’t know,” I said truthfully, “you see I had just dived in.” 

© Et

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One thought on “Dinner in Cannes

  1. Love it Eithne! I was swimming (or should I say treading water) with you in the Med just before you cruelly brought me back to a reality I can relate to and made me laugh!

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