Coleman - A Springtime to Remember

The Palace of Versailles is legendary and awe-inspiring. After numerous visits over the years, I hope with all sincerity that my descriptions throughout have done it justice.

So too, in sharing some of its history; but this story, including the characters I have created, is the product of my imagination.

I would like to pay tribute to those who have been involved in its long and colourful history. Its a place I think about often, in between visits, and I have no idea why I feel such a deep connection to it. But I do.

It was on one such visit, on 12 June 2018, that Lexie and Ronan first spoke to me.

A few months later, during a rather stormy English winter, I found myself transported back there. It is, indeed, a place to inspire both the heart and the mind.

Once upon a time there was a little girl who had a very big dream.

How big? Little Maisie stares up at me questioningly. Surrounded by a mantle of shadows in the darkened room, only the tiny shaft of light seeping in from the landing allows me to see her baby-blue eyes. Shes determined not to give in to sleep, but its obvious shes fighting a losing battle.

Maisie blinks in rapid succession and already her breathing is beginning to slow.

Hu-u-u-uge. The sound of my soft whisper fills the air. And she promised herself she would never, ever, let anyone deter her from trying her hardest to make everything she wished for come true.

I glance down at my darling niece and catch a fleeting glimpse of a smile before sleep finally whisks her away. Hesitant to make a move for fear of disturbing her, I decide to sit for a while, fascinated by that perfect little heart-shaped face. It tugs on my heart strings as I realise how much Im going to miss her this spring.

As Im about to ease myself up very gingerly off the bed, to my complete surprise her little voice suddenly rises up out of the darkness.

When you come back you will tell me all about your adventure, wont you, Auntie Lexie?

I reach across to smooth a few strands of hair away from her warm little cheek.

Of course, I will. And it will be a story of palaces and kings and magical gardens that stretch out as far as the eye can see. Now go to sleep, beautiful girl, and keep a tight hold of Mr Panda, because he will keep you safe until I get home. She snuggles her rather threadbare companion even closer.

Stooping to plant a kiss on her forehead, I notice shes fallen back to sleep. Its hard not to feel sad, because when I return, shell probably have grown another inch and I will have missed so much. Even a few months can see so many changes in a five-year-old and shes growing up way too quickly. Maisie is an old head on young shoulders, and takes after me, rather than my sister, Shellie. Much to Shellies annoyance.

I creep out to find my older sister in the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast bar leisurely reading her Kindle.

That was quick, but Maisie was exhausted. Swimming always has that effect on her. Shes going to miss you, you know.

Shellie holds up her empty coffee mug and shakes it at me. I nod, sinking down onto the stool next to her as she jumps up and heads in the direction of the coffee machine.

I know shes only a phone call away, but it wont be the same. Shes my little buddy. You made a special one there, sis.

Shellie laughs. Well, I might not have attained the lofty heights of ambition and fame that my baby sister and my older brother have, but this is the life I wanted, so Im happy.

I studiously ignore the reference to our estranged brother, Jake. Success often comes at a price and, in his case, it went to his head. I guess family doesnt mean much if your ego tells you that youve outgrown the people who love you.

Reining in that little surge of anger his name always invokes, I watch Shellie as she moves around the kitchen. With baby number two due in seven months time shes in her element. I know shes impatient, ticking off each precious day on her calendar at the thought of giving Maisie a sibling. Shellie is a mini version of Mum, whereas Jake and I take after our late father, Paul.

Chrissy, our mum, has always been the rock of the family because Dad was often away travelling, or home working late in his study. They were a team, though, and she was a bigger part of his success than most people realise. And because they were both happy in their respective roles, I cant remember them ever having a cross word.

Dad was someone who grabbed every opportunity and was determined to live his dream. Was he a little self-centred? Well, yes, I suppose he was, because as soon as he was away, it was as if we didnt really exist for him. But on his return, Dad would thrill us with stories that captured our imaginations and fired our enthusiasm.

Dad was lauded as one of the top wildlife photographers of his generation, and he lived for the thrill of capturing that perfect shot. With a long list of magazine articles and natural history programmes to his credit, he was always in demand. The fact that he died while doing something he loved seemed fitting in a tragic sort of way.

I remember the day of the fateful call and the phone falling from Mums ear as she struggled to take in the devastating news. Dad had a massive heart attack while filming on location in Tarangire National Park, in Tanzania. If only it had happened in the UK, maybe we could have

You havent heard a word Ive been saying, have you, Lexie?

Shellie appears in front of me, proffering a mug of steaming coffee and one of her delicious, homemade chocolate and beetroot brownies.

Sorry. My head is all over the place right now. So many last-minute things to do before I fly out tomorrow.

She eases herself up onto the stool alongside me, frowning.

No regrets? I mean, youre always heading off somewhere or other, but this is the longest stint in one go. I know theres a lot at stake for you personally on this one.

I burst out laughing. A lot? You could say that. Im sinking every penny Ive saved into this, and its my one-time shot.

Absent-mindedly, she scoops the long blonde hair back from her face, yanking a scrunchy from around her wrist to pull it into a ponytail. Ive always envied her hair, another gift bestowed by Mum, and my short, feathery look is about all I can do to tame my wavy mane. Taking after Dad doesnt come without its drawbacks.

You arent regretting this project?

I shake my head. No. I dont want to be just a TV presenter any more.

She smiles. Your chance, at last, to be a producer, too. You just like being in charge.

The smile becomes more of a smirk she knows me so well and yet her comment puts me on the defensive.

Well, you know that I love gardening programmes. You can blame that on Grandma. All the time I spent with her in the garden as a child. And teaming up with cameraman Elliot Nielson is a dream come true. Elliot has great connections and has filmed at Versailles before. Fingers crossed, between us we can do the business.

In fact, Elliot is setting out to make a big name for himself and his work already commands a lot of respect within the industry. But this project is a huge risk for him too, because, while in theory we have interest in this mini-series of documentaries were going to be working on together, theres no signed contract yet. The reality of the situation is that no TV network will commit until we have something to show them, which means using our own money, and putting everything on the line.