More Titles ~ 11

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Chapter Eleven

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Anna Margaret and Isabelle were guided towards the exclusive lounge, where they were given day passes. They were also offered champagne and wine, and given a personal hostess.

“Water, please, we are breastfeeding,” said Isabelle. She checked her phone. Five more minutes. The space was surprisingly empty. “How nice, you don’t even have to go out when it’s raining,” she said as she looked at the large screen.

“Would you be allowed to cheer inside?” Anna Margaret wondered.

“Someone was already giving the babies an evil look. I can’t imagine what he’d do if people actually came to do what they’re supposed to do at a race, like cheer.”

“That side of the room is more lively.”

“The non-champagne side.”

Philip texted that the race was about to begin, so they stepped out into the special stands. There were spectators there who did know what was actually going on and who had come for the better seats and not the champagne, rather than the reverse. A German couple greeted them respectfully, as if they knew who they were.

German fans probably did, Anna Margaret thought. They had not been able to watch German TV in France, but she had read about the coverage.

Isabelle spoke German like a native and the couple told her they were from the same Bundesland as her mother. Anna Margaret looked at the water as the others talked about cousins who might be acquainted with neighbours of other cousins.

As long as Frederick did not directly beat the German in the field, the German man was prepared to root for him – and apparently he would have to finish among the first three not to race the German in the next round. More Germans had assembled around them, making appreciative noises as the race unfolded on the big screen, but still out of sight on the actual water.

Frederick looked relaxed. He had only a small lead, but for the last five hundred metres he changed up a gear, and although number two also moved further away from number three, number one was impossible to catch.

Anna Margaret was proud. Alex started to cry at the noise that erupted when a rower with an enormous contingent of fans just managed to sneak into a photo finish with number three. She patted his back and kissed him, as she tried to see if Frederick was looking their way. He did not know where they were, of course, and waving would be totally pointless.

But this result meant that he was racing again the day after tomorrow. She hoped she had got that right. Alex had just begun to calm down when the result of the photo finish was shown on the screen and the crowd went wild again. Poor little boy. “I’m going inside with him,” she said to Isabelle.

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Anna Margaret and Isabelle left the VIP lounge when Philip had texted that all of the quarterfinals had been. He had apparently been looking at how the rest had been doing.

The Frenchman, probably notified by their personal hostess, had appeared promptly when they left the lounge. “Was it not to your satisfaction?”

“It was excellent and I thank you for the hospitality, but my other children are coming down from the public stands now and we want to speak to my brother later.”

“They are all welcome in here.”

“They are children; they would rather go to the beach,” she apologised.

“When is your brother’s next race?”

“The day after tomorrow. We are going to buy tickets when we get to our accommodation.”

“Mais non! Normal tickets?”

“Yes. I am not going to buy VIP tickets for two babies. I’m sorry. Then I’d rather pay for a ticket for someone who can’t afford it at all.”

“I will give you day passes for the semifinals. How many is that?”

“Nine and two babies.”

“Ah, eleven. Just a minute.”

Isabelle gave Anna Margaret a look that said: see, babies pay full price.

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They met up in the restaurant where the children wanted a drink. “Of course,” Isabelle muttered. “Imagine if we’d let them come to the VIP lounge. That’s just not good for them.”

“How was it in there?” Philip wondered.

“Much quieter. Germans came to talk to me.”

“Of course. They know their stuff.”

“Are you on Strava?” she suddenly remembered.

Anna Margaret held her breath.

“Why?”

“Before we went there, we met a young man who follows Frederick on Strava – and Alex too! And Frederick posted a photo of Anna Margaret in swimwear, so I’d really like to know: a) if you have Strava, and b) if you post photos of me on it, and c) if they are in swimwear.”

“I’ll have to think about that.”

“Philip! Really!”

“Darling, if I post too many photos of you in swimwear on Strava, too many people will want to follow me.”

“Philip. What does that mean?”

“That means that you look really nice in swimwear. Why are you fishing for compliments?”

The children returned with the drinks. Alex was snuggling as if he wanted a feed as well, which meant that Anna Margaret was stuck here for another forty-five minutes or so until he woke up again. But it might take that long for Frederick to appear, so that was no problem.

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Alex had indeed fallen asleep. Anna Margaret needed to go to the toilet, but was stuck with the baby, and the older children wanted to go to the house for lunch. Anna Margaret had a feeling that Philip was telling them to stay so he could have longer to think of an answer to the Strava question. He was usually more lenient than this.

In the meantime she had made an account for herself. She found the option of finding Facebook friends on Strava – she only had family as friends, so that should make it easy enough to see. She looked smug when she saw nearly all of them, except Isabelle, Aurelie and Charlotte. She sent requests to follow Frederick, Alex and Philip.

“That was quick,” he commented a few minutes later.

“You didn’t accept it, though,” she noted.

“Not yet.”

“Is there so much to remove?”

“Or add.”

“But it’s me,” said Anna Margaret.

“And you two are in cahoots.”

“I’ll wait until Frederick gets here.”

Isabelle had been managing her older children. “What are you on about?”

“Philip is on Strava and I sent him a request to follow him, but he refuses to click on it.”

“Means I also refuse to click on remove this request,” he pointed out.

“I’ll ask Frederick. We’re married. He’ll show me.”

“I’ve been married to this man for almost twenty-five years and he still won’t show me,” Isabelle cut in. “Aren’t you expecting a bit too much?”

“I can’t help that you still don’t know after twenty-five years,” Anna Margaret shot back.

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Frederick appeared a while later, his hair still wet from showering. First they congratulated him on his race, which he waved off as not that spectacular. He got himself a chair and set it next to his wife’s. Alex was still sleeping, or else Anna Margaret would have looked for a quiet place to greet him. Now she had to make do with him putting an arm around her and whispering in her ear. It was enough for her.

“You’ll never guess what happened,” said Isabelle. “Anna Margaret and I got upgraded to the VIP lounge for free.”

“Why?”

“Someone recognised us and reported it to the management, I suppose.”

“Won’t everybody recognise you by now?”

“Someone who follows you on Strava did.”

“Oh, nice.”

“Oh, nice,” Isabelle repeated and looked at Anna Margaret, who was supposed to jump in with a question. But there was no response there. She continued herself. “It seems you post pictures.”

“Yes.”

“Of your wife in swimwear.”

“Yes.”

“You’re not even embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed about my wife in swimwear, no.” He moved his hand so that only Anna Margaret noticed.

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“Why!” Frederick called out suddenly. “Why do 47 people suddenly want to follow me on Strava?”

“You only have to accept one,” Anna Margaret pointed out.

He scrolled through the names. “Done.”

“Thank you. See, that’s what nice husbands do.” She gave Philip a smug look.

“I’m only your brother-in-law,” he responded. “And my wife hasn’t requested to follow me on Strava.”

“Did I miss something?” asked Frederick.

Anna Margaret gently transferred the sleeping Alex to his arms, because she now really needed to use the toilet. She would leave it to them to sort it out. The people at the next table were looking at her too curiously, she noticed. They were probably surrounded by countrymen again. Which was not odd, given that they only had one boat to watch in the entire session and they would be free to eat, drink or stalk well-known people afterwards.

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Anna Margaret saw that Isabelle was also taking a break when she came out of the stall to wash her hands.

“He’ll be coming back with us, won’t he? He’s free tomorrow,” said Isabelle.

“Have you asked him just now?”

“I thought you might have agreed on something.”

“Not yet.”

“The children are already going with Philip. We can’t split up in six groups, or we’ll be told off for not taking our security seriously. You need to do something about that.”

The toilet was perhaps not the best place for that, Anna Margaret thought. “I’ll look into it next week.” It was not much of a promise – she would be up against people who had completely different ideas. “Would be better if you came along, though, to clarify your viewpoints.”

Isabelle quite liked blowing people over with her viewpoints.

They returned together to find Frederick holding two babies and all the chairs taken up by other people talking to him. They stood waiting while people were asking Frederick about his training regime. Someone offered them a seat, but they declined.

“Oh, there’s that little Frenchman again,” Isabelle said in a not so low voice. “Are we doing something strange again? Tomorrow I’m going to wear a hat.”

“I think he’s got spies. A hat won’t fool him.”

“Everything all right?” asked the Frenchman with a little bow. “Would you like me to get your a chair?”

“We are absolutely fine,” Isabelle assured him.

“Oh, that is the prince.” He gave another little bow. “Is he also fine?”

“Very fine,” said Anna Margaret.

The Frenchman clearly did not understand how they could all be fine in this situation. “Do you not have security?” he asked in a low voice.

“Outside the gate,” Isabelle answered. “Because I’m sure your organisation has it all perfectly under control in here.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Thank you.”