Madeleine (7 page)

The others all confirmed that they were on for it and in the end I was persuaded by the enthusiasm of Gerry and our friends that it would be fun (at least, it would be once we got there). The party would consist of David, Fiona, Lily, who was two, and Scarlett, nearly a year old; Matt and Rachael and their toddler, Grace; Jane and Russell with Ella who, coming up to four, was almost exactly the same age as Madeleine, and Evie, another toddler; the five of us, and Fi’s mum, Dianne. As all the children except Sean were girls, he was going to be a bit outnumbered, but at least they would keep him in touch with his feminine side!

Madeleine was so excited about going on a plane, and about going on holiday with her buddies. At nursery she was full of it. When I went to pick her up the girls who looked after her there would comment, ‘I hear you’re going to Portugal!’ or ‘Someone can’t wait for her holiday!’

It was the first in a series of apparently minor decisions I’d give anything to change now.

4

THE HOLIDAY

On Saturday, 28 April 2007, Fiona, David, Dianne and the girls arrived at our house before 7am (the others, who were based down south, were flying separately from Gatwick). As soon as the kids wiped the sleep from their eyes they were giddy with excitement. In the people carrier we’d pre-booked to take us to East Midlands airport the chatter and laughter escalated and by this stage even I was feeling quite up for it. We all had breakfast together at the airport, everybody in high spirits.

Boarding the aircraft, Madeleine, her princess trolley-bag gripped tightly in one hand, perhaps over-ambitiously took hold of Lily’s hand with the other and tripped, clattering her shin on the sharp front edge of one of the metal steps. Even that wasn’t enough to spoil her holiday mood. She handled it so bravely, letting out only a momentary whimper in spite of the large bruise that appeared almost immediately. The flight was otherwise unremarkable. With each other for company, the children were easily entertained. At the risk of sounding totally biased, I must say that Madeleine behaved perfectly. Her sore leg forgotten, she spent the flight chatting away happily, reading and colouring, as she’d spent many previous journeys.

We found the people carrier plus driver we’d pre-booked to meet us at Faro airport and arrived at the Ocean Club resort in the village of Praia da Luz at around three. After checking in we were driven over to our accommodation in a minibus by a Mark Warner rep. Our apartments were in a five-storey block accessed from the front by a road, Rua Dr Agostinho da Silva. There was a car park outside. At the rear, a veranda overlooked a garden, pool area and tennis courts. All of us except David, Fiona and Dianne, who were on the first floor, had ground-floor flats. Matt and Rachael were next door to us in 5B, and Jane and Russell in 5D. Ours, 5A, was on the corner of the block. It was lovely: much nicer and larger, in fact, than we had expected, and well equipped. Though I envied David and Fiona their sea view, being on the ground floor meant we didn’t have to worry about the children’s safety on a balcony.

Later, we were told by the British police that the ground-floor location, access to roads front and side, secluded entrance and partial tree cover made our apartment a prime target for burglars and other criminals. Never once did this occur to us when we arrived. As far as we were concerned, we were in a safe, family-oriented holiday resort.

From the front door of the apartment, there was a kitchen to the left with a hallway leading into a sitting room at the back. On the right-hand side were two bedrooms, separated by a bathroom. The sitting-room area was furnished with two blue sofas, coffee table, TV and dining table and chairs. Glass sliding patio doors gave out on to a veranda, with a flight of steps down to a little gate at the side of the building. At the top of the stairs there was a child safety gate. After the first couple of days we barely used the front door, coming and going through the patio doors and up and down the steps.

The travel cots we’d requested for Sean and Amelie had been placed in the back bedroom. As there were full-length patio doors here, too, and it was bigger and brighter, we decided to put the three children in the front bedroom, knowing they’d only be using their room to sleep in, and to take this one ourselves. We removed the cots and shoved the twin beds together. In the other room, we pushed the beds further apart, positioning each against a wall, to make room for the cots, which we placed in between them.

After reorganizing the sleeping arrangements and unpacking some essentials, we went down to the pool area at the back of the apartment to join the rest of the holiday group – Jane, Russell, Rachael and Matt and their kids had arrived a few hours ahead of us.

At the back the apartments were separated from an access path that ran the length of the block by a low wall, into which gates to the ground-floor flats were set. The pool area on the other side of the path was also walled, so to reach it you went out on to the road to your left, Rua Dr Francisco Gentil Martins, turned right and came back in via an entrance a few yards along. As we were on the corner of the block, our gate led directly on to Rua Dr Gentil Martins.

The weather was pleasant enough, although there was a cool breeze. It was still April, after all. As I am one of those people who really feel the cold (‘Get a bit of meat on yerself!’ my hardy Scottish in-laws are always telling me), when Madeleine immediately wanted me to go swimming with her, I was not exactly keen. But she was so excited about the pool. I took one look at her eager little face and went off to put on my costume. The water was absolutely freezing, but Madeleine was straight in there, even if her voice disappeared for a second or two with the shock of it. ‘Come on, Mummy!’ she called when she’d got her breath back. I tentatively inched my way in. ‘The things you do for your kids!’ I remember commenting to a dad lying on a sun-lounger with his two sons nearby, watching us. I told Madeleine to count to three and steeled myself. It was worth it – it will always be worth it – just to see her delight. Even if it did take us both the best part of three hours to warm up afterwards.

We were still shivering when we went off to a ‘welcome’ meeting with the Mark Warner team, who outlined the facilities and events on offer. We booked the children into the kids’ clubs, starting the next day. These provided a wide range of activities, both indoor and outdoor, that varied from day to day: swimming at the indoor pool, ‘ice-cream’ trips, boat rides at the beach, sandcastle-building, games like mini-tennis and the usual arts and crafts, singing and stories.

Afterwards we strolled over to the Millennium restaurant for dinner. The Mark Warner resorts the others had visited before had been quite compact. The apartments and facilities in Praia da Luz were spread out around the village, which meant some of them were ten minutes’ walk away. The restaurant turned out to be nearly half a mile from our base – a bit too far, really, certainly for a gaggle of weary toddlers. As we were only going to be away for a week, we’d decided not to bring Sean and Amelie’s double buggy with us, preferring to travel light and thinking we wouldn’t be doing much walking, given that everything we needed was on-site. So there were many stops and negotiations about whose turn it was to be carried by whom. At the restaurant the staff were very kind and obliging, pushing up several tables so that we could all sit together.

Once we’d eaten everyone was feeling pretty tired, and by the time we got back to the apartment the children’s night-time routine – bath, pyjamas, milk, stories and bed – was an hour behind the normal schedule. Madeleine was very taken with the novelty of sharing a room with Sean and Amelie – at home she has her own – and it was nice to have them all together. She had the bed nearest the door, leaving the one by the window empty. On our arrival we had lowered the blind-style shutters on the outside of the windows, which were controlled from the inside, and closed the curtains. We left them that way all week. This early in the season, the nights were not that warm, there was no need to open a window and we reasoned that having the shutters down and the curtains drawn would keep it cool during the day. Although it meant the room was very dark, the children weren’t going to be in there in the daytime, and at night we always left the door ajar to let in a little light.

With Madeleine and the twins settled, Gerry and I chatted and read for a while before going to sleep ourselves. The holiday had got off to a good start, and we felt mellow and content.

Everyone had a good night’s sleep and the next morning, Sunday 29 April, we woke up bright and early and feeling refreshed. After a quick wash, we returned to the Millennium restaurant, where we joined our friends for breakfast, and then took the children to their kids’ clubs. While our three were having fun elsewhere with their buddies, there would be a rare chance for Gerry and me to spend time together playing tennis, going for a run or just relaxing. It seemed to us an ideal way for everyone to get the most out of the holiday.

We wanted to balance these activities with enjoying our break as a family, and we made it clear to Madeleine that she didn’t have to go to the club if she didn’t feel like it. We wouldn’t have minded if she’d asked to stay with us as we loved her company, but she was far less concerned about being apart from Gerry and me than the other way round. The main thing was that everyone was happy.

Sean and Amelie were enrolled in the Toddler Club for two-year-olds in a building adjacent to a bar and the open-air Tapas restaurant, just across from our apartment on the other side of the main pool. The nanny who was to take care of them there seemed very pleasant and capable. Amelie, true to form, was completely unfazed; sensitive Sean, when it came to it, was initially a bit upset, all of which was situation normal with the twins. The staff had our telephone numbers and we left details of our whereabouts, as we would do for the rest of the week, in case there were any problems or in the unlikely event that Sean failed to settle.

Madeleine’s group, the Mini Club for three-to-fives, was based in a light, airy room above the twenty-four-hour reception. This was slightly further away and it was a few mornings before we got our bearings and found a quicker route there. Ella went too and although until the previous day the two girls hadn’t seen each other for several months, they soon became great pals. Madeleine’s nanny, Cat, I warmed to straight away, as did Madeleine. She was bubbly, smiley, kind and bursting with enthusiasm. It was obvious that she was doing the job because she loved children, not simply as a way of spending a few months in the sun.

After dropping off the children we went along to a ‘tennis coffee morning’. Neither of us is a regular tennis player but before we’d had the kids we’d spent many holidays knocking a few balls around. Perhaps that’s a bit of a casual way of putting it: we’re both pretty competitive so there have been some fierce matches over the years, thankfully all ending amicably with a hug over the net and a post-match beer. So we were keen to get in some tennis on this break and maybe improve our technique a little. We played a few games and signed up for group lessons for the rest of the week, me at level 1 and Gerry level 2 (I must grudgingly concede that he is better than I am).

Soon after midday we collected the children. I loved going to pick up the kids when they were little. The moment when your child spots you and rushes over to throw a pair of tiny arms around you makes your heart sing. It doesn’t happen every time, of course, but I have many special memories of meeting Madeleine at nursery at home. Hurtling across the classroom and into my embrace, she would shout, ‘
My
mummy!’, as if establishing ownership of me in front of the other children. What I’d give to have that again.

Gerry had made a trip to Baptista, a supermarket a short distance from the Ocean Club on Rua Dr Gentil Martins, to get in a few bits and pieces for lunch, plus some cereal, to save us making the trek to the Millennium restaurant for breakfast each morning. We all had lunch on the balcony of the apartment Fi and Dave were sharing with Dianne. Today we’d been able to make a dinner reservation for the adult contingent at the poolside Tapas restaurant. Apparently, this restaurant, a canopied outdoor addition to the bar, catered for only up to fifteen diners in the evenings, and reservations could not be made until the morning of the day in question. Being so close, it was far more convenient than the Millennium. The children could have their tea together earlier, play for a while and then go to bed at their usual time, which meant they wouldn’t get overtired and out of sorts, and we could eat later on.