'Puzzled'

Episode 36 - Taste of Life

Episode 36 - Taste of LifeYacht ‘Rosalinda’, Saint-Tropez, France, 29 December

Monsieur Moreau unlocks the door. We enter. I note that the interior of his yacht, unlike the ultramodern exterior, displays more conservative style. The colour palette and the choice of yacht furniture, like the classic Morgan of Monsieur Moreau, reflect the taste of a true gentleman.

He shows me around then brings to the deck salon, overlooking the water. If it weren't for the proximity of other yachts, I'd think that we are out in the open sea.

I take my jacket off and sink into one of the deep broad sofas. Domino lies down by my feet.

'How about an apéritif, mon ami?' Monsieur Moreau asks, coming up to a cocktail cabinet.

'Thumbs up,' I reply, studying the photographs, displayed on a shelf by the sofa. From one of them, maman, her head slightly thrown back, a large bouquet of white roses nestled in her arms, shines at me with her dazzling smile.

For a moment, I see her through the eyes of Monsieur Moreau - extraordinary magnetic and beautiful woman whose presence, even on the photograph, fills the room with a sense of love and purpose.

'Have you known my Mum long?' I ask.

'More than twenty years,’ he replies, handing me a glass of Campari[1].

I look at the photograph again.

'Has she been on this yacht yet?'

'No, not on this one, but on the other ones,’ he replies.

'But, how many do you have? I ask.

'Oh, just this one, mon ami,' he says with a smile, 'I meant my previous yachts, this one’s brand new.'

'Monsieur Moreau, I'd like to ask you a favour ... ' I turn the conversation, thinking of how to correctly verbalise what has been preoccupying me recently.

'Yes, of course,’ he nods.

I fall silent, gathering up my courage.

'Can you teach me to smoke cigars, please?' I breathe out.

He looks at me, then takes out his cigar case and puts it down on a black table-cube.

'Monsieur Luke, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you interested in smoking cigars? As far as I've understood, you don't even smoke cigarettes.'

'You see ... ' I begin, 'I'm not quite sure, how to say it ... '

'Well, say it as it is.'

'I think that a man who smokes cigars appears more masculine ... ' I reply.

'Do you wish to say, mon ami, that a non-smoking man is less of a man?' he smiles.

'No, not quite,’ I respond, struggling to phrase my thoughts.

'Perhaps, then, you think that a skill of smoking cigars will make you more attractive?' he helps me out.

'Yes, I suppose you can say so ... ' I murmur, 'You see, what I mean is that I like to experience a taste of life!  

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[1] Campari is an alcoholic liqueur, considered an apéritif, obtained from the infusion of herbs and fruit in alcohol and water. It is a bitter characterised by its dark red colour.