joking, I don’t smile in return.
‘Listen Florian, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to make a move.’ I rustle in my bag for my purse and pull out a few notes. ‘I had a call from a friend and it sounded urgent. I’ll have to cut dinner short.’ I unobtrusively place some money on the table and he watches with a sour expression. We both know it’s a lie but seeing as he’s already pretty much finished his food, I’m fairly certain it’s not going to be a problem.
‘No wonder you’re single if you keep running out on dates,’ he retorts, cool and collected, sitting back in his chair and surveying me with narrowed eyes. ‘But I think it’s obvious you aren’t my type anyway.’
‘Yes, I gathered that.’ My smile is tight, and I refrain from responding that I’d rather eat my elbow than waste another minute with him.
With that thought, I acknowledge that this date is about to set the new tone of my life going forward. No more wasting time on the wrong options, waiting for lighting to strike – it’s time to make things happen. I may not have control over when my Mr Right appears, but I do have control of chasing my dreams and finding my happiness again.
I pick up my bag and push back my chair, noting this time that he doesn’t stand but instead reaches across and helps himself to the seared duck breast on my plate. No shame at all.
He barely looks up as I say goodbye, but just mumbles an inaudible response.
Feeling relieved that I’m not forced to spend the remainder of my Saturday evening suffering his company, I make my way out of the restaurant, smiling to myself. For the first time in a long time, I’m enlivened and fired up about something.
‘Time to go on an adventure, Everly,’ I whisper, walking out into the surprisingly cool evening air.
Because if not now, then when? It’s time for Everly Carter to make shit happen.
First stop, Zurich.
*
Why on earth, given all of the countries I could have chosen, did I choose Switzerland? It’s not that I’m regretting it, as I heave my far too heavy suitcase onto the baggage check in at Luton airport – I’m just wondering why I didn’t book say, Italy or Spain or even Portugal? Basically, anywhere cheaper and sunnier.
But it’s famous for its luscious chocolate, I tell myself reassuringly as I try not to think about the extortionate cost of my inner-city hotel room. Besides, Switzerland is every skiers dream!
Although therein lies the problem; I’ve never skied and I’m wondering if my end-of-holiday two-night trip to the nearest mountainous resort Laax, is going to be a total disaster. It was only after discovering that the mountain I’ll be skiing on is called Crap that I began to question the entire, insane, whimsical idea. What the hell was I thinking? The Mediterranean would have been so much easier. I haven’t even had time to plan what I’ll do for the first three days of my trip in Zurich.
If it wasn’t for Florian and his insults prompting me into booking a random flight, would I even be here? I catch myself sharply and take the Swiss guide book I bought yesterday from my handbag. I briefly flick through and observe a beautiful looking city in the north– words jump off the page at me; vivacious, chic boutiques, Italian speaking, lakeside… What’s to stop me day-tripping there? Absolutely nothing, I think to myself as I feel my pulse quickening.
It’s been so long since I did any solo travel, partly due to spending years in a relationship with stock trader Jay. The cheeky, charming, honey-haired banker that had once set my world on fire. We had so much fun in those years and holidays were a regular occurrence for him – he was always off with the lads but occasionally we’d have our own breaks, albeit mainly to places that Jay had chosen. Being flash with the cash was one of his downfalls, but then he had it to burn so the likes of Cannes, Dubai and Monaco became the places I grew to know. I can’t say I was overly enamoured with spending the majority of the time at swanky restaurants or champagne bars – I’d have preferred to explore a bit more of each country. Yet being in love with Jay was enough for me to forgive that side of things. He’d looked at me like I was the only woman in the world. I was his ‘Everly everything’ as he often said.
Except I wasn’t, was I? Because now he’s married to a woman called Sarah and they have a son called Jay Junior. Asshole.
The day he broke things off is still a blur of tears and heartache, even now. It had stung that he’d decided to offer me a sum of money to move out. It was his house after all, as he’d tactlessly put it. Never mind the fact I’d paid my share of the mortgage and bills for years, or that I’d lovingly decorated it to make it our home. The small upside was that the money served as a deposit to buy my own tiny flat and start afresh.
Laughably, I still have my ‘get over Jay’ list of destinations I had made to give me something to focus on after our split. But not a single one is ticked off…
Still, I guess that is what being single with a hefty mortgage, demanding work schedule and lacklustre lifestyle does for you – especially when you’ve been doing private tutoring throughout the holidays to help pay the bills. I’ve been working to live which wouldn’t be so bad if I still loved my job and life. But let’s be honest, I’d quite happily trade my lot right now for a more vivacious existence. I desperately need some kind of change. And I really want to feel like I’m contributing more to the world than I currently am. You know, making a profound difference in some way. Sure, I’m no Mother Teresa, but I can’t help feeling that I could be doing something more with my time and energy. But where do I start? It’s not exactly easy to go off on a carefree charitable venture when you’re already overworked and teetering on the breadline.
Sighing, I concentrate on my guidebook and get lost in option after option of Switzerland must-sees. By the time the tannoy announces that my flight is ready to board, I’ve made an action-packed list as long as my notebook on things I’d like to do. I figure that, as my impulsive decision to choose a last-minute holiday has already cost me an arm and a leg, there’s no point holding back on entertainment whilst there, even if it is going to be courtesy of Mastercard. Sometimes, it’s important to speculate to accumulate. Especially if I want to feel inspired by life again and find a new way forward.
Thanks to a bit of Googling, I manage to fire off a quick email booking myself lessons with a ski-instructor called Elena. She looks rather normal and friendly from her website profile and by the time I take my window seat on the plane, I’m already forgetting my earlier reservations. Something inside me is telling me that this trip to Switzerland is exactly what I need; a week away to sort out what I really want from life. I’ve been trying to control everything for so long, from work, to money, to men and yet nothing seems to be working in my favour. Maybe it’s time to throw caution to the wind, stop holding the reins and open myself up to letting go and inviting in the unexpected.
I rest myself happily into my unforgivingly hard budget airline seat and watch as the first droplets of rain begin to glide across the small window next to me. It’s a typical gloomy, wet and grey day in the South East and I can’t help but feel excited at the promise of slightly less depressing scenery where I’m bound for. Fine, I’ve never really been into mountains and snow … but it’s got to better than rain, right? And worst-case scenario, even if this trip doesn’t bring me answers to feel more fulfilled by life, I’ll still get to sample Sprüngli chocolate delights and authentic Gruyere cheese fondue. Yes, I tell myself with a certain smile. Switzerland is going to be the answer to my prayers.
It doesn’t even feel like minutes later when the aircraft engine fires into action and the small splashes
