22. My Handsome And Kind Knights Templar
The house in France was a haven and still is. It sits on a crystal mountain on the edge of a national park, its walls hold a peace and a sanctuary. It’s where my parents spent time together without one of them disappearing off to his studio and the other packing her car on a Sunday night. There were guests, but they were nice, the rooms were broad and warm, the garden messy and secret, at night wild boars came snouting about the roses. As a child I’d play on the drive with my busybody men mending potholes. I learnt to swim in the pool, I smoked my first cigarette, stolen from a packet left…
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