"Are we expected to drink all of this wine? You'd have to carry me out if I drank half of that."
"They are still pretty generous, but you'll be pleased to know that, since they brought in breathalysers and fairly strict legislation, the truck drivers don't drink very much these days. When I was a kid coming to France with my parents, my dad wouldn't drive after lunch if he could avoid it, because he reckoned half of the drivers were pissed out of their minds. Happily, it's a lot safer now, and you'll be pleased to know that I shan't have more than one glass with my lunch. If you want to drink more, feel free, but don't get to the stage of me having to carry out, I've got a bad back."
"Fair enough, I don't like to drink too much anyway."
As they were eating their meal, Kate agreed with Mark that the food was excellent, and that she shouldn't have been prejudiced just because it was a truck stop. She had had experience of greasy spoon type establishments in Britain, and had assumed the French standard would be the same. To be fair, the standard in Britain has improved since her youth so she wasn't really making valid comparisons. Anyway, they both enjoyed the meal, and afterwards they returned to the Range Rover and continued their journey.
Kate was very relaxed and comfortable in the leather seats, and was reflecting on her life. She was the only daughter of a prosperous middle class couple and had had a good education through a private school and university, finishing with degrees in Maths and Accountancy. She had joined a major company of Accountants, where she had worked for David Fox, who was three years her senior, and whom she had married when she was twenty five. They had a comfortable marriage, not over exciting, but they were able to live very well on their generous salaries, augmented by bonuses that they earned as a highly successful team. However, after about fifteen years it all became a bit stale. They had hoped for children, which just didn't arrive, though they never tried to find out why; Kate suspected David was infertile but he refused to be tested. Eventually she was advised by a friend that he had been seen with another woman and she demanded of him if he was having an affair. This he vigorously denied, and it was during the aftermath of this that he had suggested buying a holiday home in France.
This hadn't been entirely successful. As many owners of second homes find to their cost, any holiday time tended to be spent on maintaining the house and garden, which could be even more stressful than having carried on working. Nevertheless, they did have some pleasant times in their French retreat, particularly after they decided to pay someone to do the maintenance for them, and they used it as a base for touring the surrounding countryside. Even so, the marriage was only staggering along, and Kate was convinced that her husband was playing away, though she didn't go to the lengths of finding a private detective to check. As she was near to talking about divorce, David became ill with what was eventually diagnosed as pancreatic cancer, and she then supported him through his illness to his eventual death just after his fifty third birthday.
After the trauma of his illness and death, followed by the pain of sorting out his financial affairs, which were far more complicated than they might have been, she had decided to come and live in the holiday home at least for a few months while she cleared her head and decided what her future life would be. She had been introduced to All Ensemble, a group of expatriates living in the area near her and had started joining in some of their activities, including the walk where she had met Mark the first time, and had rashly suggested joining him on holiday.
Now she was actually with him, in his car followed by the mobile holiday living arrangements, and she was beginning to wonder how stupid she'd been to recklessly go to an unknown destination with a man she barely knew. As they would obviously be living and sleeping in close proximity, would he expect that she would be willing to have sex with him? And would she? Her sexual experience was not particularly extensive. She had been quite shy as a young woman, and had lost her virginity to her uncle. He didn't exactly rape her in a technical sense, as she never actually told him not to penetrate her, but neither had she encouraged or welcomed the activity, which she found not particularly pleasant. When he ripped through her hymen, her vagina was dry and consequently his passage was quite painful. This experience rather put her off the whole idea of sex, though she did partake in a couple of not exactly painful, but not desperately enjoyable sexual activities while she was in university.
She had been going out with David for quite some time before she finally allowed him to take her to bed, where, although he wasn't the most adventurous of lovers, at least he had enough technique to ensure that, while sex with him wasn't rapturous, it wasn't too unpleasant either. The last few years of her marriage had been virtually sex free. He had shown little interest physically, and she really wasn't very interested. She didn't care enough to find another man, neither did she get much pleasure from masturbation. So now she had got herself into a situation where she would be sharing sleeping accommodation with a man who could well imagine that her willingness to go on holiday with him implied her willingness to share her body with him. She resigned herself to the probability that this might happen, and thought that, as long as he didn't try anything very kinky, she could tolerate this as a payback for getting a surprise holiday.
At least, she thought, the body she could offer him was not too shabby for a woman of her age. She had always looked after herself, both in terms of diet and exercise, and consequently she certainly didn't look older than fifty years, and in fact, she could easily have been mistaken for someone nearer forty than fifty. She was quite tall, a few inches short of six feet (about 175 cm for metricated readers), with a figure that was very easy on the eye, and a face that, while not beautiful, was certainly very pleasant, topped with a wavy head of chestnut coloured hair. So, she thought, if he wanted sex, at least she wouldn't be ashamed to get her kit off in front of him. And on that happy thought, she leaned against the side window and gently nodded off.
As Mark was driving he reflected on the possibilities of the holiday ahead. He had been absolutely amazed when she agreed to come, having no knowledge of where or what he had in mind. He barely knew Kate, only having met her a couple of times at the All Ensemble events, and though she seemed very pleasant, goodness only knew what she would be like in close company for a while. He wondered what her expectations were, was she on the hunt for a new husband? Coming away with a strange man on holiday the thought that he might be expecting her to want sex must have crossed her mind. And did he want sex? It was five years since his wife Alice had died, killed in a particularly stupid road accident caused by a driver swerving to avoid a dog that had ran out into the road, causing his car to mount the pavement and to hit her, fatally injuring her. Prior to her death, in fact, even on the morning of her death, they had shared an active and enthusiastic sex life, but since then he had abstained, never having met a woman who attracted him sufficiently to overcome the guilt feelings he had at the thought of being unfaithful to Alice's memory.
Nevertheless,in his early fifties he still had the normal sexual instincts of a man of his age, which he occasionally assuaged with the help of his right hand, and he had began to ask himself whether Alice would have wanted him to stay celibate for the rest of his life. He finally decided that he was undecided, and that he would just wait and see what happened. In any case, he fancied that when Kate found out exactly what sort of holiday he was proposing there could be ructions, never mind sex -- so, fingers crossed.
The weather had been bright and sunny when they started, but as they continued the skies became overcast and it was obvious that it was going to get unpleasant. It was soon pouring with rain, and Mark had to slow down as visibility was restricted even with the windscreen wipers going at full speed. The noise of the wipers woke Kate from her slumbers, but she realised that, despite the atrocious conditions, Mark was well in control of the outfit and she didn't get too excited. It was still raining hard when they pulled into a camp site, and she stayed in the car while Mark went into reception and booked them in. He obviously knew his way around the site and soon was dexterously parking the big outfit.
"Stay in the car, Kate while I unhitch the caravan. I've got a waterproof, so there's no point you getting soaked."
In very short order he had detached the caravan, wound down the supporting legs so that the van was level, then pulled out the extension lead and connected the electrical supply. The rain had eased off a little, but it was still most unpleasant and Kate was happy to climb inside the caravan. By now it was early evening, and with the overcast conditions it was quite gloomy, so the lights were needed.
"I had thought about going out for a meal tonight, but with this horrible weather we're later arriving here than I expected. Anyway I got plenty of supplies in the van, so between us we should be able to produce a meal of some sort. I've got some charcuterie and salad and I picked up a loaf from the boulangerie this morning, so we shouldn't go hungry. Oh, I've got a bottle of passable rosé in the fridge, so we can have a drink and watch the horrible weather. By the way, the girl in reception said the forecast for tomorrow is good, so with luck we shan't be getting flooded."
Kate stood back and let Mark show her where everything was packed away in the cupboards, and they quickly prepared a meal, then sat down with a glass of wine while they enjoyed the food. After the meal they sat savouring the rest of the wine, and chatting inconsequentially, gently probing each other's backgrounds without getting too personal. Eventually Mark suggested that it was time for bed.
"As I said, the bed at this end of the caravan is a bit short for me, but it's quite comfortable and I'm sure you'll be okay. We have to fold the table down and rearrange cushions to make the bed, all the bedding is in the lockers underneath, so we'll need to get that out first. Oh, I should have said that, although the toilet is very civilised and perfectly adequate, it does help if you can avoid using it for anything too serious when possible, if you see what I mean. The camp toilets here are very civilised, I'll show you where everything is in the morning. Also there is a shower in the bathroom, but it's very cramped and the water supply is limited, so again, if you can use the camp facilities you'll find it much easier. Anyway, tomorrow everything will be more clear for you."
