I have recently returned from some quality time with my daughter Sophie, her husband Steve and the rapidly growing Charlie. We were lucky enough to be invited to my oldest friend "Nita"'s house the other side of Beziers. It is part of what was a wine domaine, since divided into various parcels and sold off separatly.
"Nita", as Charlie calls her, has part of a large farm building, a lovely pool in a delightful fruit and olive tree garden. The incredibly thick walls and old stone floors help to keep one deliciously cool when the searing summer sun beats down on a landscape of Languedoc vines. It is conveniently placed only 15 minutes drive from a long beach. The whole thing was rather spoiling and provided Charlie with a wonderful water playground which she revelled in.
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We had all been looking forward to this little family holiday. Anita is my oldest friend, our friendship dates back to school at the French Lycée in London, frightened to realise that we have known each other for over 40 years, neither of us can believe it until we are rash enough to look in the mirror. 
Having said that, Anita defies the laws of ageing beautifully . She is also Sophie's Godmother and has always felt like a sister and a friend.
The weather was on the whole really sunny and hot. Charlie arrived complete with swimming waiscoat and armbands. Like her mother she turned out to be a complete water baby and within days had discarded all but the armbands, the vice like grip had stopped and she was gaily and avidly jumping into the water or taking off from the steps at the shallow end and racing her father to the deep end.
The clatter of the pool cleaning vent did however raise a frightened scream as it loomed towards her like some monster's open mouth. Other than that she was fearless and very entertaining. It is a family joke that I swim with my head well above the water and never get my hair wet, it is testimony to my love for Charlie that I found myself diving in, being splashed and looking most of the time like Donna Summers on a bad hair day. The half- cast ancestry making it's presence felt and no mistake!
We also heard that Sophie is expecting a boy this time around, which caused delight to all concerned. Although I cannot see myself rushing around with a football, there I do draw the line. Let's hope he has a passion for cooking, that would be a delight!
Balmy evenings were spent on the terrace under the shade of the wisteria being prompted by Steve to take a walk down memory lane.
A special family time, three generations together, I wonder whether Charlie will remember the occasion and the delightful setting we were all able to enjoy as a family.
