I want to take her somewhere beautiful, somewhere calming. We could simply stroll along the beach, but I think a complete change of scene is what she needs, so I head for the mountains. I don’t know it well; I’m a city boy really, so I head for the general area of the old hotel where we once ate, on Charlotte’s last day, that first week. And where we once stayed in a cabin during one of her visits.
She’s not eaten since I picked her up from the office and, determined to get something down her, I pack carefully; not too much, but small appetising foods, that might tempt a jaded palate.
The trail runs across the mountain, high above meadows, winding through forest and with the lake sparkling below. I hold her hand, not exactly dragging her, but certainly leading her passively along.
I don
