‘Why do you bother with a home base? Why not stay?’
He gives me a rueful smile. ‘Well, Olivia expected me home at some point.’ He stops short, a frown marring his features. ‘Or… maybe she didn’t. Either way, now things are different. I could live a more itinerant life, but would I yearn for home? I’m not sure. As much as I enjoy my work trips, I also like my own bed, my own space. Did you ever miss having a home base? A place to land, family around to love on you? I guess you must have, to have decided to settle down?’
I smile as my family and close friendship group spring to mind. ‘Well, I always visited home a lot. There were family functions I couldn’t miss, or a friend’s wedding, so those visits shored me up, and they reminded me that it would always be there and so I didn’t need to be. Does that even make sense?’
‘Perfect sense. You could dip in and out when you like and still get the benefit of living on some island paradise.’
I grin. He gets it. It’s unusual. There’s always pushback when I talk about how I live, like people want to pick holes in my story, as if I can’t possibly enjoy not having a home to go to. A mortgage. Or at least the dream of one.
Sure, I suffer bouts of homesickness, but they don’t last long and a quick call home usually eases it. It’s not like I’m pining for bricks and mortar; I’m pining for my family, or for a deep and meaningful conversation with Freya.
Princess throws herself back between us.
‘Am I interrupting?’ Her witchy cackle rings out.
I shake my head at her theatrics. ‘Not at all. We were talking about our travels and where we call home, or would like to.’
‘Ah, you’re both nomadic by nature! I suppose the three of us are. Isn’t that something? To find others so similar?’
It is, but it doesn’t surprise me, since according to Sabrina this trip has been offered at a discount to many travel industry insiders. If not for that, then I’m sure Jasper and I would not be sitting here right now, as the cost for a ticket on the Winter Wonderland Express is somewhat prohibitive for the average Christmas holidaymaker.
Just what type of tourist is Jasper when he’s not working? Spontaneous, I bet. The sort of person you’d call when you’re suddenly inspired for a last-minute road trip to visit some crumbling ruins, or when you spot sale airfares and know they’ll say yes without hesitation. I sense he’d be up for any adventure, and take it all in his stride.
‘Yeah, it is,’ Jasper agrees. ‘What about you, Princess? Where do you call home?’
‘I’m from the Philippines originally. Now that I’ve retired, I’m a rolling stone, but when the urge for my own bed calls, I visit my castello in Tuscany with its verdant rolling hills and vineyards as far as the eye can see. Or if I’m feeling energetic, I have a loft in Tribeca – I enjoy the New York nightlife, jazz clubs, nightclubs. My villa in St Lucia is perfect when I’m in the mood for sunshine and cocktails. My condo in Manila is fun when I’m craving Filipino food like sisig or adobo.’ She waves her hand as if it’s nothing. ‘I have a few other abodes here and there, but I don’t want to come across as pretentious.’
At that, we burst out laughing.
‘Are you ready for a whistlestop tour of Paris?’ Princess asks.
‘Ready,’ Jasper confirms. ‘I’d love to find a gift for my mum for Christmas if we have time.’
Loves his mum – check. Actually, no, I’m not checking boxes for Jasper!
‘Would you mind switching with me?’ Princess gives Jasper a coy smile. Switching means Jasper will be seated next to me, instead of opposite.
‘Sure thing.’ Jasper switches and Princess’s eyes sparkle with amusement. I give her an almost imperceptible shake of the head, so she knows I’m not interested. I’m sure she takes absolutely no notice.
As we zoom around Paris, Princess has us in fits of laughter, sharing stories of hijinks she got up to around the city on previous visits, most happening in underground clubs – she’s got the energy of a teenager and it doesn’t ever seem to ebb.
Princess has paid some kind of premium for tickets as we’re whisked in an elevator to the top of the Eiffel Tower, which is not for the faint of heart but the stunning view of Paris below is worth it. We’re back in the car and taken to the next stop.
Once again we skip the queue at the Louvre with a private guided tour to visit the Mona Lisa. I only wish we had more time at each sight, but it’s enough to whet my appetite for an extended return trip. ‘She’s so tiny!’ I whisper to Jasper, who is shoved in close beside me due to the crowd pushing us forward.
‘Tiny but powerful,’ he agrees, cocking his head to survey the small painting as the crowd push forward, a sea of arms holding phone cameras aloft.
‘I see power too,’ Princess agrees.
Jasper puts a protective arm around me when a burly man gets too close. ‘The hint of a smile shows her quiet determination. She’s a woman who has faced many challenges but persists and ultimately prevails.’
When I gaze back at Mona Lisa with that in mind, the painting changes; a different history takes shape. Was she a mother, a wife, a woman who suffered heartrending loss but persevered? Questions that will never be answered but that make the artwork sing its own sweet melody; it becomes not just an object but a story.
This is why I love touring with people. Jasper’s comments have changed the way I view the painting. Art is subjective and up for interpretation and now I’m lost imagining a world this woman once walked.
Sainte-Chapelle is next. Sunlight pools through the stained-glass windows, colouring us in soft rainbow prisms. It’s like being in the belly of a kaleidoscope. Jasper’s mouth is agape, as if he can’t quite believe this is real, and the sight of it makes me stifle a laugh.
‘What?’