The road wrapped itself around the village like a belt pulling in the terraced houses that seemed to be clambering to fall over the edge.
As he paused to admire the view across to the mountains Anthony took a deep breath and pulled in his stomach.
Five years of sedentary work had taken its toll in more ways than one.
He felt his shoulders relax and he closed his eyes, relishing the feel of the warm Mediterranean spring sunshine on his face, the sweet, woody smell of pine and lavender fill his lungs.
He looked up at the walled gardens and took in the lush, rich blooms of the Bougainville cascading down and the memories came flooding back .
He imagined he could hear the silver sound of Sophie's laughter on the breeze and he turned to look at the village.
Once, he'd told her that he thought he'd been re-incarnated, that in a previous life he must have lived here, spending long afternoons in a cool bedroom, watching the sunlight push itself through the shutters, the linen curtains sway in the heat, as he traced a sun-tanned finger along her back.
She'd rolled him over and kissed him and then with one fluid movement had wrapped him tightly to her with the silk white sheet.
Afterwards as they sat on her small terrace watching the sun go down over the mountains she'd told him that she didn't believe in re-incarnation, what could be the point of it if you couldn't remember your past life, how could you possibly improve yourself? No, there was just one life and you had to live it to the full, there were no second chances.
A scooter rushed passed him and Anthony jumped. He continued his walk to the top of the village. He hadn't let himself think about Sophie for so long and his heart was now beating fast and his breath coming in gasps that had nothing to do with the steepness of the road.
It was his mother, Betty, who had told him about the reunion. One of the former students on Anthony's course in Avignon, Jean-Paul, had got in touch with her. Jean-Paul had written that he was organizing a reunion and wanted Anthony to be there.
Betty had discovered Facebook at the age of seventy. Her sister, Joan, had gone to live in Australia with her daughter, Claire, who'd married an Australian. Claire had set them up on Facebook to help with Joan's homesickness. At first Betty was hesitant but now she was enthusiastic, saying it had enriched her life enormously and she was back in touch with all her old school friends and now she'd bought a smartphone she could talk to Joan any time and had seen Joan's house, the beach and the view from Sydney Harbour bridge.
Anthony was afraid of all social media.. He'd always been a serious child, apparently taking after the father that he never knew. Naturally gifted at academic work and useless at sport, he had put all his energy into his studies. He'd had no time for parties or friends and his mother seemed relieved that she didn't have to worry about him the way Joan did about Claire, who was always at discos and then failed her A levels. The teachers at Anthony's school had insisted he tried for Oxford to study Law. They said he had the perfect qualities of detachment and logic. They could see him destined for a brilliant career. It was his mother, who at the last minute had suggested he could add French to his degree course and spend some time in France. She said that she'd been there on holiday as a young girl and would never forget the warm balmy evenings, the heady scent of lavender and pine and the cascading Bougainvillea.
Anthony took her advice and after brilliant exam results he went to Avignon to specialize in European law.
The meeting place for the reunion was in the little square at the top of the village at the Cafè du Pin. There were a few people sitting on the chairs outside the cafè and as he approached Anthony recognized Jean-Paul who stood up and walked towards him.
'Anthony, mon brave, how wonderful to see you! You are looking good, handsome as ever. '
He pointed to the group round the table,' Do you remember Vadim, Pablo and Liu?'
They all shook hands and smiled at each other, Anthony didn't remember any of them, his time had all been taken up with Sophie.
Jean-Paul pulled out a chair.
'Come and sit down, what would you like to drink? We are waiting for the others here and then going to the restaurant La Pomme du Pin. Do you remember it?'
Anthony shuddered, how could he ever forget 'La Pomme du Pin'? It was where he'd last seen Sophie. It was where he'd made a fool of himself. It was where he'd lost his chance of happiness. He'd asked her to marry him, to come back to England and make a life there with him. She'd bowed her head and he could see tears dropping onto the table. He could hardly hear her words as she told him that she was like the Bougainvillea growing round the walls of the village. she needed the sun and the sounds and the smells of her home. Anthony could still hear the noise his chair had made as he'd rushed away from the restaurant without turning back. He'd been so sure she would have said yes, that she'd have followed him to the ends of the earth.
Jean-Paul was greeting all the newcomers and Anthony listened in amazement at how they all knew everything about each other.
'Hi Vadim, I saw your photos of Madrid on Facebook, and the ones of California on Instagram were so cool. I've always wanted to do that hike.'
'Hey Pablo, congratulations on your award, and your trip to Cambodia was amazing, I had no idea their tourist industry was so advanced. Drinking champagne on a boat, hey!'
Jean-Paul came and sat beside him and spoke quietly in his ear.
'Sophie will be here soon. It's market day and she has a stall. It's really successful. She's got a website and customers from all over, but she'll never give up her stall. She says it's where her senses come alive. It's how she keeps in touch with people's needs and desires. You know how she always had a passion for texture and design. She's just landed a contract to do the interiors for a famous tennis player who's opened a hotel in Monte Carlo.'
Anthony gripped his hands together to stop them shaking and tried to smile. He knew so well about Sophie's love of all that was sensuous, soft velvets, cool linens, silk and satin and her passion for the colours of her Mediterranean home, the warm sand and terracotta, the lavender and the pine. He realized Jean-Paul was still talking.
'How about you Anthony? I heard that you were a very successful lawyer in the city.'
Anthony decided to be open, there was no point in pretending.
'You could say I was successful, for a while, but then I had what used to be called a nervous breakdown and now is known as post traumatic stress syndrome. So now I work freelance from home, translating documents into French.'
He left out the bits about how he'd sold his soul and worked all hours, decamping from the office to night clubs with all his colleagues, trying to find another Sophie, to find the sensations that she had awakened in him.
He didn't say how it was the child abduction cases that had broken him in the end, the sight of a grown man howling in agony as he told how his wife had fled the country with their small children. and now he couldn't kiss them goodnight.
Jean-Paul nodded and there was understanding in his eyes, he put his arm round Anthony's shoulders and said almost in a whisper,
'She loves you Anthony, there's never been anyone else but you.'
There was a loud burst of laughter and Jean-Paul stood up to gather the crowd together, to move to the restaurant.
Then Anthony saw her, standing on the sidelines, looking straight at him, smiling. He felt as though time had stopped, it was like everything suddenly came into sharp focus and Sophie was right there in the middle of it. Anthony couldn't take his eyes off her, he knew that nothing else in the world mattered to him anymore except her.
He held his arms out and she ran into them and then he was burying his face in her hair and breathing in the familiar scent of jasmine and lavender and something that was only hers, and kissing the skin on her neck which tasted of the sun.
His voice was low and there was all the joy of his heart when he spoke, 'I've missed you so much.'
She broke away and there was mischief in her eyes, the smile he loved so well playing around the corners of her mouth,
'Do you remember the question you asked me in 'La Pomme du Pin'? What about giving me another chance to get it right?'
'Do you remember when I asked you if you believed in re-incarnation? Well, I think I was right. If you want me to, I want to spend my new life here, with you, Sophie ...'
