Divergence 01

This is a 3 part tale, which is a little different than most on this site. There is some cultural and architectural detail so feel free to skip if this is not your bag. Please allow an engineer some license if the architectural detail is not quite believable. Any relationship of characters in this story to actual people is entirely coincidental.

DIVERGENCE 01

A Fork in Our Tale

By crikey, I godda say, that was one tough horrible night, worst night ever, fuckin' horrible! And up until then, the night had gone so well. A building designed by our team had won the EU prize for contemporary architecture and the old man, our boss, had received the Grand Prix National de l'Architecture, a lifetime achievement award. It had been a glittering night and our group had retired to a bar with some of our friends to wind down the celebration. Then next minute, this!

My French wife, Justine, announced she was divorcing me, the bitch.

Boom! I was aware we had some problems but nothing that would lead to this, the nuclear option. I was ambushed in the most humiliating way. I just froze, I only heard that she was divorcing me, the reason? Because our careers were diverging, we were no longer able to support one another. The rest of what she said was just words. I was too numb to comprehend.

I was transfixed on her beautiful birdlike face as she leant forward earnestly explaining the logic of it all. There she was, her bright red lipstick, hoop earrings, her dark chestnut wavy hair pinned back behind her ears. The staccato gesticulation of her fingers were punctuating her justification. I was besotted with the beauty of who I had fallen in love with. A break-up could not be possible. For me, we were a team destined for eternity. This could only be a dream, a nightmare and I could not hear her, could not reply, the words just flew past me, leaving me stunned in denial.

I suppose I had better explain. It was all so long ago. I will give you some background.

Growing up, I became obsessed with becoming ambidextrous. And I achieved it. Over the years it became my quirk. I mean, I became really ambidextrous, not just being able to brandish a cricket bat with either hand, or not just writing with either. I could write two different stories with each hand simultaneously. My parents thought it was a hoot and used to brag about it with friends and I would be dragged out to parties to perform. Apparently a great grandfather on my mothers side could do that. He was a teacher and when the school kids saw him doing that they thought he was some sort of weird genius. For a while it remained a party trick but eventually developed into something more serious. I found a way of using it in my profession.

I am an Architect, right. After graduating in New Zealand I enrolled at UCLA for the purpose of studying parametric architecture and so I moved to the States from New Zealand. Some cynics call parametric design, architecture by algorithm but it is more than that. Being a maths whizz as well as having some talent in architecture the whole idea appealed to me. After some extended post graduate academic achievement I joined the top practice in LA doing this style of architecture. There I teamed up with an IT whizz, incidentally a fellow kiwi, who specialized in architectural software. He was Nick Millson, a tall, dark, and slightly nerdish character. Cool nerd, I suppose you'd call him, with long hair and an obligatory man bun. We considered ourselves as kiwi as, bros from the antipodes and became close friends. It was natural then that we started to develop a few ideas together. Nick commanded his own group of software developers that could turn ideas into reality.

I have always been fascinated in the art of the possible. I am attracted to expressive architecture that has meaning, is engaging, and reflects the culture of its context. I like to create something that is distinctive that has a wondrous quality. I like to live on the edge but the systems that Nick's team and I have created are to ensure it is not the bleeding edge.

Now you must understand architecture is like a juggling act. Juggling different parameters that often conflict. These might include the practicality and function of the client's operation and the long-term financial benefit for them. Then there are all those things that are part of building performance, including structure, environmental control and of course aesthetics. There is never one true solution and never a perfect solution. We look for the optimal solution.

Architects need to think in an iterative way. They circle the problem, improving the solution in each orbit. Engineering requires linear thinking to find the perfect solution but that is only one parameter the architect has to juggle. Engineers like constructors are all about making their own lives easier, which does not always align with the clients needs. Engineering is therefore subordinate to the overall architecture of the building. Architecture must be borne from the client's functional aims and needs.

Everybody at this time was obsessed with AI and how it was creating cookie cutter architecture. Some were suggesting that we would no longer need architects to do the creating. There was fear in this. Where was the human quality in the creation?

This is where my ambidexterity gave me an edge. I had the talent for being able to draw two freehand perspectives of the same building simultaneously.

Nick and I set up a system using a very large intelligent touch board where I did this and using AI created a full dimensional model of the building. The model was then able to be rapidly modified.

How it worked is that we had a series of apps that, in the beginning, set up the parameters for the design.

I would initially draw ideas on the intelligent touch board, then we would subject my ideas to the parameters and that would automatically adjust my 3D model. Then I would re-adjust the model and the process would be repeated after a number of iterations. The computer would record automatic scores for each solution and using statistical analysis determine the optimal solution.

The premise was that I was imbuing the AI approach to design with human creativity and sensitivity for the clients needs. Because I was seen to be initiating the concept I was seen to be dominating the AI process.

Was that really true? I don't know. But when you are conceptualizing a design in real time in front of a client it has that 'gee whizz wow' effect. Using AI algorithms, extraordinary designs became functional, buildable and structurally sound. The designs could be fantastical but they were workable so if the client loved them, they happened.

What we did require was financial backing as there had to be significant investment into presentation hardware but particularly 3d printing. Our methodology was built around Rhino 3D and grasshopper to create the complex geometric geometries. We had plug-ins for setting the parameters and structural and environmental analysis but the key was Nick and my plug-ins that provided the feed from the shapes I was drawing on the touch board.

Finally, we printed the complex Voronoi and lattice patterns and shapes using SLS (Selective Laser Sintering) with our own bespoke plugins as much of our architecture was kinetic.

Our suite of software plugged many gaps in what was currently available, replicating how architects solve complex problems and making the process much more seamless in its interactivity with other disciplines.

With our backer's assistance Nick and I became sort of hired guns. We could find a place with top global architects and as a result we moved from LA to London and then on to Dubai enhancing their designs to new levels.

So, what does this all have to do with Justine?

Nick and I had written academic papers on our method and so there was always interest from universities. So when we arrived for a project in Bordeaux, France, there was inevitable interest from local universities.

The lead architect on a given project always liked us to work with them at the earliest opportunity. In that way they could get the most benefit from our method. The visual effect of what I could do in front of the client as they talked about their needs and company culture astounded them. If the lead architect happened to be in competition with other architects for a given project we would inevitably make them a winner.

Knowing we were coming to Bordeaux, a local university invited us to give a lecture to their staff and students. We never refused such invitations, if we could, because the academic exposure helped vindicate our method. Our credentials would be verified by the scrutiny we received when demonstrating and presenting the theory.

Nick arrived at the lecture theatre first to set up the hardware with university technicians. I followed and as I stepped onto the stage I noticed Justine among the students below. She looked up, giving me a long enigmatic sultry smile, her dark eyes meeting mine. At that point she was a complete stranger and for me there was an instant visceral reaction.

Possibly in retrospect it was love at first glance. Seeing me stare back she responded becoming coy. She looked young and I imagined she was a student so when I was introduced, I was amazed to find she was the staff member who would introduce us at the lecture.

Justine initially graduated with a diploma from the Malaquais in Paris, continued, achieving a masters degree qualification at the confluence institute for innovation and creative strategies then returned to Bordeaux where she was awarded a doctorate. Unbeknown to me, she as a member of the staff, knew my work, and was instrumental in inviting us.

At the end of the lecture, I found myself in intense discussion with her in the staff club. Justine's English was excellent, fortunately, because my French at that stage was negligible. I also discovered she had an irreverent sense of humour. That and her heavy French accent sent me into paroxysms of giggling, in turn setting her off. Straight away I had a sense of connection, and I think she, the same.

My next surprise was that as an associate professor she also was also a member of the architectural practice I was commissioned to assist. We would be working together.

Much of the conversation surrounded my presentation. She was straight to the point suggesting it was a circus trick and ambidexterity was not something she could expect from her students. I was a little embarrassed in admitting it was but it had an impact with clients as they watched magical shapes turn into feasible projects. I explained the magic was in the application created by Nick and his team and the board could actually be simultaneously operated by two or more participants, drawing in concert, not just me alone. It did not necessarily need one ambidextrous individual.

The trick was being able to expand creative potential. Justine became very excited by this and suggested running workshops with students as a way of exploring our own working relationship.

I was beginning to see a future with this woman. Her enthusiasm was infectious.

Probably what I have said so far would be dead boring for some of you but there is something you should know from the outset. Architecture was not only my profession, it was my life, my calling, if you will. I did not aspire to be anything else but 'the Architect.' The significance of Justine is from what little I knew of her, she shared the same dedication to the profession like no other woman I had met. So to continue on with this story you need to be just a little interested in the topic.

I digress. Back to the story. For some reason there remained only the two of us in the staff club and we both seemed unwilling to let the conversation drop, therefore we left and caught a tram to the waterfront and taking advantage of the warm balmy evening strolled along the waterfront, continuing our conversation.

She quizzed me on my background, even commenting on a few personal details that seemed to interest her. I learnt that she was part of an avant garde arts-based group. It was already well known locally. They had been given a disparaging label as the Le Nouvelle Boheme, called Neo-Boheme for short. The name came about largely because of the way they dressed and presented themselves in public. In English they would be the new bohemians. Instead of regarding the term as an insult they embraced it and proudly celebrated it. They were happy to be the Neo-Bohemes.

The movement encompassed all forms of arts, poetry, writing and visual arts in a typical French intellectual and philosophical manner. Its premise was to embrace and expand AI in a way that their product truly reflected human creativity beyond the capability of AI itself. They were establishing a manifesto to cement this. In France architecture is regarded as a pinnacle in the arts, so for Neo-Boheme our software gave a methodology to include architecture in their philosophical aims.

Their output was in many forms whether it was in performance, environmental installations, what have you. In architecture their touchstone was Gaudis' Casa Battlo, typically mixing culture, myth, animalistic and natural forms.

Their music sampled diverse and often impossibly obtuse historical music such as Captain Beef heart's, Trout Mask Replica and wove it with naturalistic sounds and intricate polyrhythms. A favorite was French musician Pone and his sampling of kate bush into a composition called Kate and Me. Typically for Neo-Boheme, part of the attraction would be that he had motor neuron disease and composed it entirely using eye-control software.

Justine was promoting the Neo-Boheme promise through architecture and she was an acknowledged leader of the movement. But like any French idea or philosophy it would be challenged and there would be detractors. Justine's standing and her resolute promotion of what we could bring to her movement impressed me greatly. She would be a force to be reckoned with.

Justine had read Nick and my papers and saw the potential of our method as a means of ultimately expressing their aims in the public arena. For this reason, she saw an opportunity to include us on the architectural team that was pursuing a commission for the design of an international arts and events centre in competition with others. She subsequently convinced the old man leading the team, an internationally renowned French architect, to include us. She was the sole reason that Nick and I were there.

Eventually we settled into a restaurant and continued our evening there. I learnt a little about Justine's background. It was a wealthy one. Her family had a long-standing ownership of a chateau in the Pomerol district. They produced wine with an international reputation under a strict appellation. She was the second eldest with two brothers, the oldest was being groomed to take over the Chateau.

I told her about my moderately well-off background in New Zealand, with a sister and a brother. My father was an actuary from where I got my mathematical brain and I was introduced to architecture through an uncle on my mothers' side. He was a director in one of the country's largest architectural practices and mentored my early years encouraged by my mother who was an interior architect herself. They gave me my creative brain.

At one point, completely out of the blue, Justine asked me if she could have a selfie. She then became embarrassed, "Oh pardon, excusez-moi.. oublie ca. I.. I," Babbling in French, I cut in.

"Hey, no problem, it would be nice for me too. You have your phone?"

She was still embarrassed but was in a corner so she rummaged in a small bag she had and brought out an i-phone. It was an excuse to put our heads close together as she composed herself and, it may be a cliche, but I must admit my heart seemed to flip at her closeness, her perfume and just a hint of desirable womanly aroma.

I asked her if I could have a copy and she agreed, asking me for my personal number. She was a little tentative, perhaps having second thoughts realising she had just met me, I was still for all intents, a stranger. But she must have been confident enough to take the risk.

The outcome was not just the pic but I had her number. I felt an internal triumph.

At the end of the evening, we reluctantly parted. She gave me a peck on the cheek and with a bonsoir mon ami left me standing with heart pounding. I then made my way back to the hotel, my head going over and over about what had just happened and the fascinating woman I had met.

That night I could not sleep. I flicked up our selfies and stared at Justine's face. I had only just met her and yet the sight of her image next to mine seemed to overwhelm my feelings

I kept thinking about her, the way she pronounced my name Christopher with the accent on 'toph'. Nobody ever called me Christopher. It was always Chris. But I liked her calling me that. I mouthed the name. I thought of the expressions on her face, the way her lips moved and the gesticulations of her slender fingers. I warmed at her sheer enthusiasm for us working together. And I especially recalled that look, that first coquettish look up at me with her dark brown eyes.

Fuck, I have never felt so infatuated by someone so rapidly in all my life. I have had my share of relationships, one quite long term but nobody has affected me quite like this. Nobody had been so in sync from the get go and yet she was so foreign and exotic. Wow, just wow, wow, wow.

To me Justine was a natural and understated typical French beauty who reminded me of Audrey Tautou. She had large expressive eyes especially when she wore her glasses. Her eyes narrowed when she was in academic mode, concentrating and expressing herself on some philosophical or architectural concept. She was never a person given to dramatics. Cultured, she could be very charming and eloquent with strangers, supported by her elegance and shy, quiet smile. She could grin in the most radiant fashion and I was to find that grin was usually reserved for me.

Back to my story. I kept compulsively thinking about her over the next day, taking little opportunities through meetings and the general organisation Nick and I were engaged with in establishing ourselves in Bordeaux. That night after drinks in the hotel bar I settled into another potential sleepless night. I had not seen her all day and I had an irrational urge that I needed to for my own piece of mind. As I lay on the bed in my boxers I brought her image up on the screen and propped the phone, trying to masturbate. I suddenly felt sordid as though I was defiling her and pushed the phone away. I decided to ring her in the morning.

And very, very nervously I did. I felt like a 16 year old, terrified of rejection and the embarrassment. I called in from my hotel room early, hoping to catch her before she left for work and I was lucky. We arranged to meet the following night for me to come to her apartment for a meal. Wow! I could hardly believe it. Perhaps it was inadvisably forward of her, but if she was taking the risk, I reasoned, she was feeling what I was.

She confessed she was not a great cook but since I thought I had some talent in that direction we agreed to share the responsibility. I arrived early so that I could see what she had and maybe slip out if we needed extra.

For me it had been a long day. I could think of nobody but her so finally there I was at her door, facing her as she greeted me with a 'Bonjour mon cher' and a kiss on both cheeks accompanied by her blazing smile. One that rendered me speechless.

Her apartment was furnished reflecting her interest in Neo-Boheme arts, there was a kinetic portrait that gradually morphed into different personalities. There were also natural objects that inspired her like a fossil ammonite, a sculptural piece of dried sea kelp. The lights were all provided by standards of various heights, each a piece of Neo-Boheme art in themselves. There was a subtle aroma in the room of patchouli and that would become a fragrance I would always associate with the Neo-Bohemes.

But it was a painting that caught my eye. On one wall was a painting by an artist I recognised, Bill Hammond. It was composed of bizarre human and bird figures that represented the balance of humans and fauna, both interdependent and vital for survival of the natural world. I recognized it as fitting the Neo-Boheme zeitgeist, they were a metropolitan movement trying to relink the alien European metropole with a more balanced natural order. The painting was paradoxically from an artist of my own country, a country that is more arcadian by contrast but beset with similar issues in thought. Both were also borne from a fraught natural environment under threat.

Also significant was that this painting was worth serious money, very serious money. As it dominated the room I commented on it," how come a New Zealand artist?"

"Oh that, it was a present from my father when I received my Doctorat. He knew I would like it."

I took it that it was a coincidence, It was only later that I found out it was a little more than that. One thing was certain this woman came from a seriously wealthy family.

"It must be insured for quite a sum," I added

"Oui, that is why there is a key and digital locks on the door. The place is also alarmed and has cameras."

She smirked as she said this and touched my nose, "So you have to be the perfect gentleman while in here."

"That'll put a dampener on things." I laughed.

"Oh no, I want some love, ardent and passionate, recorded so I will always remember."

"I bet." I gave her a wink.

The meal was simple and there was no need for more. I really cannot remember what we ate, I guess I was distracted. But I remember we slipped into a rhythm around the kitchen. Somehow, we just seem to interact so easily even though I was grappling with an unfamiliar kitchen. I remember I kept glancing at her, I really could not keep my eyes off her. We did not converse much in the kitchen apart from discussing the tasks we were engaged in. I desperately wanted to find out more about her personal life. Being French, she had different cultural expectations to me, so I thought. Therefore I was cautious, worried I might embark on something inappropriate.

I had brought a couple of bottles of wine. Call me presumptuous, as it was a high-risk decision. She would know more about wine than I ever would, let alone quality. What if I picked something that was from a rival appellation?

But no, this gave me the first inkling of Justine's personality. There was not a hint of condescension. She took the bottles, looked at the label and told me something about the grape varieties and the winemakers. I would say she would be an amazing teacher to her students. To me she became the most cultured and intellectual woman I had ever met to date. A European intellectual woman who had every right to feel superior to a provincial like me. But no, she always treated me as an equal. She saw something in my brand of intellectualism that she could learn from and she took it on herself to bring me up to speed with her culture, lifestyle and language.

However she did say later that there was no need to bring the wine. Apparently that is something the French do not do. Another French lesson learnt.

Justine had set the scene; the lights were low with just a little side lighting. Some Neo-Boheme music was playing at low volume, Leonard Cohen sampled singing in French, mixed with sounds like wind blowing in tree branches woven into a slow remarkably erotic soft throbbing sensuous rhythm.

I was captivated by her face as she ate, furtively glancing at her as her cheeks moved over every morsel. She finally caught me out, giving me a smile. I responded by glancing down self consciously. After the meal we continued to sit at the table with our wine. I do not class myself as someone that talks too much but after dinner I found myself commanding the conversation. I guess I was afraid to destroy the atmosphere. I stood, then moved around Justine and put my hands on the back of the chair. I felt I needed to take charge a little and as she stood I removed the chair and gestured to the dishes."Lets just stack those and leave them for later."

We finished stacking and we stood and turned to one another, our eyes meeting. I took her into my embrace and we began to kiss. It felt so warm and uninhibited. She broke the embrace and gave me a coy look nodding toward the sofa.

I have always been comfortable in my looks. I have been called sexy ugly, which I took, not as an insult, but a source of pride. I have a strong forehead and jaw line I inherited from my father. He always said it signified leadership and maybe the idea infected me because I have often taken the leader's role.

Justine sat down demurely on the sofa looking beautiful. In contrast to me, she had that classic French feminine beauty that would not be out of place on the cinema screen or the fashion runway. I imagined her to be formidable with that beauty and her brains to reinforce it. She would not be one for a man to take lightly.

I slid down on my knees before her. It was unthinking and occurred as a consequence of our relaxed conversation but it could have been an act of supplication to her. I was rapidly becoming intoxicated with her. Our conversation at the time was about my home country. She said she and her father had always been interested in New Zealand. She seemed to have a romantic idea about it and its place in the Pacific along with the French territories of Tahiti and New Caledonia. She was surprisingly knowledgeable and my curiosity for the rationale of that large painting by Bill Hammond was resolved.

Eventually she seemed to decide we had been talking too much; she looked down at me, Taking my face in her hands she kissed. She then nibbled my ear and whispered, "Je suis tres excite.... You know what that means, mon cheri?"

"I can hazard a guess," I replied

And with that she slipped her hands behind her neck and undid her halter top, immediately slipping it down and revealing her naked breasts. I was caught in mid breath, forgetting what we were talking about. I dragged my eyes from those breasts and stared into those eyes. There was only one place where this could lead; so there began the intimate phase in our life.

I stood and became conscious that she could not help but to become aware of my arousal. I simply did not care, happy and unembarrassed with the bulge in my pants I slipped onto the sofa beside her; she readily gave herself to my arms as I moved in to kiss her once again. This time the tempo was increased. As our mouths met, I caught a glimpse of her now closed eyes with their long eyelashes. Then it was our tongues doing the necessary talking. Her heady aroma of lust told me her arousal matched mine. I realised I had not felt this passion for a long time. How barren my life had become. It seemed that now I was on the cusp of a profound change in my life with this woman.

Justine had no breasts to speak of but she had large, and as I discovered extremely sensitive nipples. I reached to caress her breasts and she immediately shied. I took it more gently, massaging and squeezing the undersides of her tiny breasts then moving my hand from underneath and gently stretching the nipple. As I did so she sighed and hummed deeply. I was learning as I went, discovering she could become highly aroused by just concentrating on her sensitive boobs. Feeling her reaction, I kept going, withdrawing sometimes when she became over sensitive, trying another tack until I brought her to her first orgasm by gently lapping her extended nipple upward with my tongue. Each stroke took her higher until she crashed over panting.

Settling back, she laid her hand on my crutch. My dick was as stiff as a board. Breathily she whispered, "Avez-vous un preservatif?"

At that stage my French was negligible.

"Eh, what?"

"Er.." She patted my crutch trying to find the right word. I realised what she was asking.

"You mean condom, aah no unfortunately."

"Merde." Was the breathy response. She started to unzip my fly. She pointed at her mouth and my dick as it flopped out"

"Are you good?"

"I'm all good."

She then began a gentle but dextrous blow job. Looking up at me with those brown eyes she murmured, "do you like me to take it deep. I can do that." And with that she almost swallowed my dick whole. It was my first experience and happily, not the last, deep throat from this surprising French woman. And when I gave, I gave in ecstasy and away it all went, swallowed, no mess.

I never got to her pussy that night. In fact, making that kind of love was new to me. She slipped her hands up under my T and fine woollen sweater catching my nipples, then lifted the sweater over my head. We cuddled, exploring one another's bodies without going too far. We would stop, have a drink, converse a little and then return to our love making. I never went down on her but took her to orgasm, maybe three times all through manipulating her tits.

I didn't stay the night. It ended with a discussion, beginning when Justine asked if I had a girl somewhere. I hadn't. I told her that my love life had not really existed for a while. I never lacked when I was younger but I had a long-term relationship ending when I left London for Dubai.

"What about you, do you have another?" I asked.

"Pardon?"

"Boyfriend, husband or whatever." She smiled and shook her head and popped out her lower lip in a pout and shrugged. "Non, non, non, I am free for you if you want. No angry husband is going to come and box your ears," she giggled then she turned serious. "I have no, not for a while." She added enigmatically," For a while I was pressured, I finished it.... I.. I am free now from all that." She had become emotional and sniffed as she composed herself

There followed a silence before she surprised me, "What are you doing about an apartment, Christopher. I have a spare room."

I was stunned. Was this moving a little fast? She seemed to catch my uneasiness.

"I think the expression is, it's with no strings attached. I am offering you. I will feel safer with another person in the house and I like you."

I hummed and ha'd and finally I said, "fuck it why not." And so, it was sealed. I moved in, I bought a bike like hers, moved what luggage I had into the spare room but I never did use the bed.

******

The first night we made love after I moved in was not constrained. It began at the door; she had just closed it and reached up to kiss me. I ran my hands over her sweater, feeling her breasts, feeling her hard nipples through the fine wool, I slipped my hand down to her waist, She was wearing a pair of baggy trousers and I loosened the tie slipping my hand in beneath her knickers and into her soft pubic hair.

She remained passive but said, "What are you doing, Christopher?"

Ah, my name always sounded so sexy when she mentioned it in her French accent and I smiled and looked into her eyes, just saying with a smirk, : Oh I am just searching through the undergrowth looking for something nice."

"Under growth, what is that? I don't know that word."

"Ah bush, yes bush,"

"How's that undergrowth, I feel under growth here that's nice," and she squeezed my erection through my trousers."

We both doubled up laughing. She finally caught her breath saying, "I think we should both go to my bed before my clothes are ruined."

I said, "Are you OK with this? Weren't we to have separate bedrooms? "

She gave me a pout," You do not want to sleep with me?"

I sputtered, thought for about two seconds and said, "Hell yes."

And we did.

First she scuttled into the ensuite to douche herself. She was always fastidious about that sort of thing I was to discover. I was coerced into it as well. There would be no anal play if I did not do it.

I found she was uninhibited when exposing her body. I thought of it as built for speed; she was slender but had a perfectly formed butt and long legs. She had a full bush only slightly trimmed. She worried that I might not like it but when I said I loved hair pie. She thought for a second about what I had actually said, then broke into convulsion of giggles.

We lay down in the bed and cuddled then I took her in the missionary position, face to face, her dark eyes wide open, as I caressed her bush with my dick to open the portal. She was tight but well lubricated as I slowly eased in. I quickly discovered the key to her sustained arousal was her tiny tits. Watching her face in ecstasy was a fascination, quick smiles among shudders and gasps as she was taken higher. She clutched and drove her nails into my back as she began to thrash around and with a gasp she came. I kept moving and gyrating until I followed her. How beautiful she was, flushed staring back at me before grabbing my head to hers, our mouths continuing our sexual onslaught.

Later we lay there and I turned on my side, surveying the landscape of her body, her brow, nose and lips, the gentle undulations of her body and her tits, potentially sexually explosive, like small dormant rising volcanic peaks with the lava plugs of her nipples atop. That week I got to know her body well.

******

It was the following Saturday, while having coffee with Justine, I met her oldest friend, Seraphine. At some point Justine disappeared to the toilet, Sera leaned across the table to me and asked, "what have you done to Justine?"

"What do you mean? I replied.

"Justine is so serious. She does not smile, but now she does all the time. Everybody has seen it. I mention your name and she smiles."

I could only smile in reply, not knowing what to say.

"Voila, c'est l'amore. Both of you. You are in love."

"Oh my god, is it that obvious?"

"Oui, of course, but we love you too, we are happy for you."

I guess that was the seal of approval. That evening I got special treatment from Justine. Her friend's affirmation was important to her.

*****

From time to time I attended Justine's lectures and watched how she gave them. I was fascinated with how she spoke and interacted with her students. She could only be French; she was vivacious, chic and slim. She moved smoothly around the stage like a cat earnestly fixing eyes on some hapless student to probe their understanding of the subject. Occasionally she would glance at me and with a quick smile she would indicate, in French, some aspect of my background.

She approached her vocation with intense sincerity therefore she could seem severe, remote, and cool to some people. However in private she was anything but, and to me she was gentle and warm and very loving. Even when we were in intense discussion she would narrow her big eyes but they would still sparkle with the enthusiasm of what she was trying to express. I found interacting with her uplifting and inspiring.

As Justine's love interest it was inevitable that I got drawn into Les Neo-Bohemes. Besides her university work the movement was her passion. She was eager to share what Nick and I had developed with the movement, especially with its visual and multimedia artists. We held an open session with them at the university and it was determined to install the project's hardware in their electronic atelier. Thereby they had access to touch board and printers including our two technicians who finished and fabricated the model components from the 3D printers.

Justine spurred me to return to my own purely artistic endeavours. As the project was subjected to delays while it sought agency approvals it gave me time to develop ideas that were not purely architectural and Justine was an eager participant. With others taking up the techniques, we aimed at an eventual exhibition in a gallery we had yet to decide upon.

I have to say not everyone in the movement was enthused about a foreign johnny-come-lately taking any prominent role with the Neo-Bohemes but that is a story for later.

The movement blurred all sorts of boundaries between media in their artwork; there was for example a form of audio-visual poetry presented in a form of total sensory immersion. The movement was controversial in their use of explicit sexual themes but it was this that gave them their contemporary edge. There was always political commentary but they avoided being attached to particular political genres. Nonetheless the movement espoused the importance of nature, climate and a sustainable world.

Their dress brought them their name. The most obvious was the use of large Basque berets on which they had monograms. These were not standard but individualistic but actual Basque members usually incorporated the Basque flag.

They typically wore dark colours but often they wore a coloured or black and white striped top. The Neo-Boheme women were regarded as risque in the way they dressed in public. In summer they usually went braless, wearing a coloured halter top, or maybe a low slung bodice held with spaghetti straps exposing the bust in a way that left little to the imagination. As they were braless the effect was provocative but with Justine's negligible bust it was more subtle.

Although to see her riding her bike, wind in her hair, short flared skirt and her light bodice flat against her chest, emphasizing her nipples, was very memorable.

Justine and I spent an enormous amount of time together, the only time we were apart was when she was at university. Much of our time together entailed working with our team on the project I was in Bordeaux for. Our spare time was spent socializing and developing our artwork. We also did a lot of biking in the countryside, to get away from the city and just enjoy nature. Often this was with groups of our friends. Then there were various cafes and bars that provided haunts for us with our friends in the movement.

******

There came the time Justine decided I should meet her family. We had been living together for months and Justine never said much about her family. She did visit them from time to time and she was often on her phone with them but I wondered what she had ever said about me. So, when she brought it up, I was justifiably nervous about it. She had left it months to introduce me. There had to be a reason. Would I measure up? How would they take to me, an obvious foreigner. Would they think me uncouth and provincial and furthermore was I about to whisk their daughter away to the antipodes on the far side of the globe.

We caught the train and were met at the station by her papa. Catching sight of us, he came over swiftly. His greeting to Justine was brief and after kissing turned directly to me, "aah Christopher, Nouvelle Zelande, Les All Blacks eh, aimes-to le rugby, oui? Welcome Welcome. I have been looking forward to meeting you." Then he grabbed me, kissed both cheeks then gestured us toward his merc for the drive up the hill to their chateau.

Well, that got off to a good start. Fortunately, I had played rugby, even though it was long ago at secondary school. I did reasonably well in the backs but I only ever made 2nd fifteen. Of course, like most kiwis I followed the All Blacks and that was enough for him. Bernard, as he insisted I call him, had been a serious player and played in their premier championship. He played troiseme ligne aile, flanker and he had the obvious power build of one.

Bernard loved the all blacks, second only to the French team and he was a fan of the legendary New Zealand flanker and captain, Richie McCaw. " I saw him play, you know, he was the best, the very best. But oh, I watched the French test in Auckland, at the world cup, and we were robbed. Robbed! He could be a very naughty player, Richie McCaw, he had the referee in the palm of his hand."

I had a friend from the word go and it just got better from there.

Justine apologised for his effusive greeting later. She laughed as she said she had probably talked about me so much he probably regarded me as part of the family.

Arriving at the chateau I was presented with a building of blended age. Relatively modest for a chateau it had been tastefully modified as a contemporary building embedded in the old. It was done so well you could imagine it had always been like this. I told Justine what I thought and she beamed with pride as she told me it had been an early project of hers. Apparently the chateau had once been much larger. It had been an abbey but was sacked by the Huguenots in the French wars of religion. You could see the remains of walls around the large carpark. Justine said the oldest surviving section was from the age of Richard Coeur de Lion.

As we drew up in front of the entranceway we were met by Justine's younger brother Sebastien, another rugby player. Bonjour, Bonjour and another kiss on both cheeks. I was beginning to feel very at home with this family. He was still actively playing for a regional team and like his father had the build of a flanker, tall and powerful.

Noticeably absent at the greeting was Justine's mother and her older brother Michel. I was informed that her mother was around the back and I was led around, finding her in the cottage garden. I could see straight away where Justine got her looks from. In her middle age, Madame Lafont was a handsome woman but she stood and looked at me without smiling. I addressed her, "Bonjour, madame Lafont." She simply waved her gloved hands that were soiled from gardening. The implication was they were too dirty for kissing and without even a bonjour turned and resumed gardening.

The obvious snub was palpable, resulting in silence all round before Bernard and Sebastien gathered me up and took me inside for a drink. Justine was obviously highly embarrassed. She made excuses for her mother and brother. Her older brother had inexplicably decided to go out elsewhere.

But Bernard and Bastien made up for it all by fussing around and quizzing me about rugby and what I knew of the wine industry in New Zealand. At one point we went out and had an impromptu game of touch rugby. Another surprise was that Justine had once played touch competitively. It was obvious that Justine was daddy's girl and he was very proud of her. So she joined us in the game.

Later, over an aperitif, Bernard told me about his business interests, which were far wider than the chateau and its estate although largely within the wine industry. He told me that French wine no longer had its place alongside international competitors and many vines had been ripped up and estates closed. He was also worried about climate change and the prevalence of wildfires. Because of this he had become interested in New Zealand. I raised my eyebrows at this and he put one hand on my shoulder. "We should talk more about this, mon ami," he whispered in an almost conspiratorial fashion.

He was very proud of their appellation. He claimed his wine was one of the best in their district. His wish was for Michel, as the oldest, to take over the chateau and its estate and he would concentrate on developing other business interests.

He asked me about what my hopes and plans would be. I explained I was riding high on the back of the software that Nick and I had developed. I thought of having my own practice but I was geared for very large projects and the investment required in it locked me into partnering with some of the world leading Architects. I would need a very wealthy backer and a keystone project to launch me. After I explained this, he was silent. He must have been thinking about Justine's professional future but he did not bring up the subject.

We also discussed the artworks that Justine and I had embarked on. Bernard was an active collector of art and the grounds of the estate had a number of sculptures as well as what was displayed in the interior of the chateau. Bernard sounded enthusiastic and expressed a wish to see our electronic atelier.

Dinner was very formal. Justine's mother was pleasant but not effusive. She seemed at pains to be polite. Bernard and Bastien continued an animated discussion with Justine and I. It was obvious that Justine was relieved that her father and brother and I got on so well.

I could tell by the footsies she was giving me under the table.

Michel did not show and nobody mentioned why, or where he was.

Justine and I slept in separate bedrooms for the night. Something I expected and respected. Her mother was a practicing Catholic and there would be mass on Sunday.

Justine and I did not attend mass. Justine was an atheist, on principle, and I was agnostic. So, we left after breakfast.

While on the train Justine explained that their estate goes back a long way and the family have a very noble background. Her mother claimed that Bernard's family could be traced back to Elenore of Acquitaine through an illegitimate offspring of Richard Coeur de Lion. I doubted it but I do know of a New Zealand family who can trace their ancestry back to William the Conqueror, so it was possible. That would be so long ago, I imagined it was not beyond the realms of possibility that I could be related as well.

Justine said that her mother came from a relatively modest background and could be a snob. She was constantly on Justine's back to marry someone who could lift the family further socially.

Quietly I knew then that I was never going to measure up. Marrying me would not be marrying well in her mother's eyes. Still, Justine showed no signs of being upset about it. She said she had a stormy relationship with her mother. She said she espoused l'esprit de contradiction about her private life, to annoy her mother. I did not think of Justine being necessarily contrary in her arguments but understood her conservative mother might think otherwise.

Unlike her mother, Justine's views were very liberal. It seemed she got these from her father. They were a long standing Bordeaux family. Their staff were treated well, remunerated and very loyal and long standing. Justine regarded them as she did everybody, students and colleagues as equals. Bernard was very paternalistic about his staff, he had an old school belief that he was responsible for them and their families well being. He was not ostentatious and never flouted his wealth in front of them nor, in fact, generally. Wealth was to go back into business or support worthy causes and, as I was to find out, he was very astute.

That week Bernard, true to his word, came to Bordeaux to visit the electronic atelier, formally known as L'atelier Electronique des Nouveaux Bohemes. He was impressed with the set up and the ideas we had been working up. So much so he was willing to invest. We discussed figures and although not deciding on an amount he indicated that it would be considerable.

Justine was ecstatic. That evening she could not wait for us to arrive home. As soon as we closed the door to the apartment, we kissed and clutched at each other, removing garments piece by piece as we lurched toward the bedroom. Justine tore loose and naked scurried around the kitchen and arrived back with two glasses and a bottle of wine. She poured glasses and we toasted Bernard's investment before collapsing onto the bed. Our love making was gentle as usual but Justine was much more animated and vocal repeating "Je t'aime" in a breathy whisper as I went down on her. I inched up from her muff to work her sensitive breast, her legs wrapped around me, gripping me so tightly it took my breath away. We continued our movements in repetition. Our breathing became heavy, locked in unison as we sighed and gasped, then finally Justine came, convulsing and finally settling back croaking "Je t'aime, mon amour... non-je suis folle de toi, Christopher." I did not quite get the full translation but the meaning was clear.

'Mon amour' became a moniker for me replacing mon cheri. When I remarked on it as we sat on the bed sipping wine she playfully remarked " oh so you object, maybe I should say "mon chou." I asked for a translation, and burst out laughing when discovering I was being called a cabbage. And as a result I got mon chou when she was teasing.

So, life became bliss. The project was going well, albeit in fits and starts, and when it wasn't our artwork was developing. Occasionally I had to travel. It might be to the old man's head office in Paris and that trip usually included Justine. Others overseas were required for concluding work in Dubai and London. However travelling alone was a wrench and I missed Justine terribly in the short times I was away.

When alone in our apartment Justine often spent the time naked and it was not long before I did the same. Justine had modeled nude for art school drawing classes in the past, making her comfortable with her own body. She spoke of her modelling as a matter of fact, as an extension of her professional character. She was not one to sleep with artists. She had done it to challenge herself, not for any carnal desire. Yes, maybe there was a bit of exhibitionist in her but she was restrained, there were limits and there was decorum.

Justine spent a lot of time naked padding about the apartment going about her everyday tasks. With voyeuristic delight, my eyes followed her. There was no shyness and she would glance at me from time to time coyly smiling. It was a huge tease and she knew it, so over the week she got taken while holding the vacuum cleaner, over the kitchen bench, and once in the closet.

We kept a pair of Japanese Yukata by the door in case we had unexpected visitors. Nudity was not something we shared with visitors. It often led to spontaneous lovemaking especially when Justine was doing her yoga. Eventually when visiting the chateau we shared an attic bedroom that had a private deck. It was one of our favourite places as it had an expansive view across the valley and its vineyards. On fine days we would regularly spend time on the deck working on our allover tans.

Justine had a number of quirky sexual endearments. She called them her Petites fetichismes.

One was when she thought she was not getting enough attention I would find her sitting on the sofa, perhaps with a glass of wine with her skirt pulled up and no knickers. It happened frequently and without fail would have me turned on. If she had prepared herself her womanly bits would be swollen and be making themselves prominent with the wooly mass that was her bush.

Another one was that she would help me pee. She would stand behind me with her arms wrapped around so she could reach my dick as a urinated. When we were out camping she began seeing if she too could pee standing up. It began a bit messy but she established a technique and we would occasionally stand together as we went. One day we got into a pee fight like a couple of kids. I was never going to lose because I had the greater fire power. Then one time we got sprung, caught by a couple of friends we were camping with and after that we became a bit of a legend for it..

Her other quirky desire was for me to remain in her after we had made love. She liked the feeling of my cock inside, connected. We often went to sleep like that. She would also pounce on my morning wood before I was awake. Sometimes it would turn into making love but even with a rigid hard I was not always in the mood. No matter what, she would have it inside her and we would just lay there spooning and cuddling with the warmth of our connection. One morning while we were attached she said that I was the first man that she felt utterly safe with. She said that she knew I would always be there for her and I gave her great peace of mind. At the time I felt that was the greatest complement someone had ever given me. If only I knew what was to come.

She introduced me to a sex position she called l'huitre viennoise. We would often do it after yoga. She would arrange herself on her back with her legs back. She would hook her arms through legs and were folded so that her hands and feet were behind her head, framing her face and a stupendous butt display. She would smile at me coquettishly and with a come hither raising of eyebrows invite me in. Before me her vulva and anus were spread, appearing like a pink, wet exclamation mark fringed by her unruly bush. Oh god, that turned me on having to decide an aperture to enter.

To me it was our very special thing. She felt the same way and she called it,"C'est notre delire." I had never done anything like it with anyone else. Gosh, I didn't if anyone I knew would have been capable of it.

******

Sometimes we worked late into the night in the electronic atelier and we would buy-in food. There was even a small suite there where we could stay overnight. Much of our work on our artwork was done this way. One night when we were working late and alone on the design of our artworks we ate our dinner accompanied by some wine we had there at the time. Perhaps we overdid the wine but as we were alone Justine and I began making out. When we began shedding clothes Justine had the idea of firing up the touch screen and pressing our naked bodies on it to see what effects we could bring up. We undid the touch board from the cradle and laid it on the ground so we could get a better effect; this led to us making love on the board. The act of doing so was extremely erotic and exhilarating. Laughter turned into serious lovemaking. The inspiration led to us working at it all night resulting in some serious cleaning up in the morning but the effects generated through the board became intrinsic to our finished work.

We were together as much as we could. We preferred to eat in and despite our lack of culinary skills we prepared our own meals. We worked so well together in the kitchen. Justine purchased a couple of recipe books' She translated the French recipes while I prepared vegetables or clattered around with pots and cutlery. Then there were trips away with our bikes when we needed a break. We had panniers on the bikes so that we could take our tents and sleeping bags and camp out where we could, up canals and around the countryside.

The first time I met Michel, it was at the chateau and it shook me a little. He was arrogant and the total opposite of his father and brother. He was tall and slim, and thoroughly handsome. Like Justine, he obviously took after his mother and clearly her favourite. I only met him briefly as he was leaving. Justine tried to introduce me and he just looked down his nose. He sneered in strangled English, "alors, Nouvelle Zelande, eh, you must be a king with all those succulent filles in their grass skirts."

I had to bite my tongue, the absurd display was infantile as it was astounding, a monumental contrast to the grace and decorum of Justine. I just glared, and self satisfied he turned his back and left. I could not believe his condescension and ignorance. But he did not care, he was only interested in offence.

Justine was livid. Nothing more was said that evening but when we were about to leave on Sunday, I overheard a heated argument between Justine and her mother. They were speaking in French but I picked out the name Philippe several times as well as Michel.

Justine was still spitting when she returned to me but she gave no explanation. She was silent on the return journey on the train so finally curiosity got the better of me and I asked her what it was all about. Justine and I had said very little about our past romantic attachments and I was taken aback when she explained that she had once been Philippe's fiancé and had broken off the engagement. Her Mother and Michel had never forgiven her. She said she could not stand his arrogance. Philippe was heir to one of the largest states in the Medoc district. It also had one of the largest chateaux situated on a prominent hilltop. To her mother Philippe would be a match made in heaven. He had been school friends with Michel. Her mother saw the marriage as elevating the family. Her father Bernard, detested Philippe. He didn't think the family needed elevating, he was doing very well with his business dealings, Madame ignored his business and never really understood it.

Bernard poured scorn on Philippe's family who were wholly invested in the estate and frittered their diminishing profits on the shallow accoutrements of wealth rather than ensuring their future. Of course, madame was impressed by the optics of wealth oblivious to their shaky foundation.

I understood her explanation but was unnerved by the fact that she had been this shithead's fiancé. The two just did not seem to go together. On her part the encounter seemed to affect Justine and she was uncharacteristically moody for days after. We did not go back to the chateau for at least a month.

That did not stop Bernard from contacting me and inviting me to attend some premier rugby matches with Bastien and him. This became a regular event. I also turned out to watch Bastien in some of his games. I was happy not to see Michel again. It was clear that Philippe and Justine's relationship would not be a talking point. I did try to learn a little more but it was sternly rebuffed. So, for me Philippe remained a mystery and a little glitch in our relationship I could never shake.

Justine always came with us to the rugby games. It amused me how excited she would get. The normally reserved, thoughtful Justine would be yelling in a second, as the game waxed and waned. She could be relied upon for some choice words for the ref or opposition when the game was not going her way..

A tour was coming up by the French national Rugby team to Australia and New Zealand. Bernard approached me with an invitation to join Bernard and Bastien on a supporter's tour. Bernard said he had always wanted to visit New Zealand. He was keen not only to follow the rugby but visit the wine growing regions in both countries. He also said he would be honoured to meet my family if he could. So, it was planned and Justine's mother would go as well but not Michel who would look after the family's interests while they were away. Justine was overjoyed with the plan as she had never visited New Zealand. Madame not so much, but said nothing.

The tour was nearly a year away so in the meantime there was the continuation of the project and of course our exhibition. Justine and I were not the only ones showing as it was an exhibition interpreting the Neo-boheme movement and was to be called "L'esprit des Nouveaux Bohemes."

Another member of the project team, Gaspard, was showing as well, but the exhibition included a spread of artists that were diverse as were the works. The main centre piece of the exhibition was an installation devised by Justine and me, entitled "Immersion Totale." It was of course a parametric structure you had to move through entering and leaving through two separate sliding glazed doors. The interior was glazed but the glass level of transmission and opaqueness was constantly modified revealing some fantastic kinetic lattice winding around the interior like some deep-sea monster.

The first gallery where it was displayed was modest and situated in the Bordeaux old town but it was considered radical and caused a stir. Some of the pieces crossed the norms of what some considered decency but their reaction was to our favour. The publicity sparked immense interest and it eventually became a travelling exhibition through several European cities reaching London and New York. For the travelling exhibition Justine and I produced a book explaining the movement and the pieces in the exhibition. This book would link Justine and my name in perpetuity to the Neo-Boheme movement. I know some members resented us for this. Within the book was a short paper written by Justine, laying down the manifesto and its rationale. There was another by the foremost Neo-Boheme philosopher, Pascal Lapeyre, laying down the philosophical basis for the movement and its manifesto.

Bernard's investment paid for our exhibition centre piece and the travelling exhibition repaid his investment many times over. He could not have been happier in his investment as he was for us. Unfortunately, it did not go down well for some members of the movement who regarded me as a foreigner and not a bona fide member. An attitude that would come back to haunt us if not destroy us.

Meanwhile Justine and my relationship remained as strong as always. We continued to stimulate and feed off one another intellectually and our intimate life seemed totally in sync, at least to me. Justine was a person of integrity and a deep thinker. She was not someone given to flights of fancy. Her thoughts and actions were always considered. She was always considerate to me and I hope I was likewise to her. We shared life domestically and our daily household tasks were tackled together. Our arguments were always intellectual, never personal and it took a while for me to adapt to her willingness to take the devil's advocate even when that line was totally absurd. She forced me to think more deeply about those ideas and beliefs I tended to take for granted.

We began planning our future lives together, meshing our aspirations. We even started talking about what sort of family we wanted. We had been exclusive from the word go. I had always assumed the case and we had not discussed it. I had started thinking about marriage and was not sure that Justine saw that in our future. I introduced the topic while discussing infidelity. She was not of the French ilk that she would ever accept infidelity and neither was I. We both agreed we were fundamentally monogamous. She did not want complications messing up her life. Keep our marriage simple, she demanded. That way we can concentrate on our careers. In discussing this she confirmed that in her mind we had never been anything else but exclusive and had trusted me implicitly and I reassured her that the trust was entirely mutual as I thought exactly the same way.

As a result of that conversation, I decided to propose to her. The trip with the family to New Zealand was coming up and I had an idea about how I would do it.

******

Bernard and Marie flew into New Zealand and at the air terminal in Auckland were met by my parents. My father was now semi-retired and was living on a farming property he had invested in along with some co-owners. My parents also had a holiday home in the coromandel and an apartment in Wellington, which they offered to Bernard and Marie as a base as they moved around the country. There were to be three rugby tests in New Zealand followed by two in Australia. There were three weeks before the tests started enabling Bernard and Marie to tour the wine regions. Justine and I flew in just before the tests. I discovered my parents and Justine's getting on extremely well, Madame seemed to have thawed and, just maybe, she saw me in a different light. My sister and brother immediately took to Justine, she seemed so exotic to them.

The games were fantastic. The All Blacks won both of course but not without a knock down dragged out fight, as games with the French always are. Justine's family screamed the whole match and according to Bernard the French were robbed again but there would be no hard feelings. Bastien looked ridiculous in his rooster shaped headgear but nobody cared. Marie and Bernard wore blue berets and red and white ensembles. All the family had the French flag on their cheeks. Justine, as beautiful as always, had her large red Basque, Neo Boheme beret, stripe top and silk foulard. Each time we left the stadiums after the game, I would have "Allez la France," ringing in my ears. As I was wearing my black All black supporters rugby sweatshirt we got a number of comments as we walked arm in arm around the concourse, particularly the one I got as we were leaving, that I wouldn't be getting it tonight after that game.

Justine, her parents, Bastien and I all spent a pleasant three days at my parents holiday house. Although midwinter we were lucky to have three glorious sunny days. The house was not large. It is what is called a bach in New Zealand, and it has a deck overlooking a small sandy bay. We decided to give Justine's parents a kiwi breakfast. The morning was calm and warm enough so we had it outside around a wooden slatted deck table. Justine and I fussed around in the kitchen to serve up scrambled eggs, avocado, tomato, bacon and vogels toast. It was accompanied by Feijoa and orange juice and some fruit. And of course there was coffee for them and tea for me.

Sitting there, Justine and her maman both wearing stylish sunglasses in the bright sun, both had radiant smiles and Justine was looking so much like her mother. This was reinforced when we were on the way to Wellington we called into some thermal pools. Both elected to wear only their bikini bottoms in the private pool but I was amazed how similar they were. Sure, Marie had filled out a bit and she had larger boobs but when younger she would have been Justine to a tee. Perhaps that was in temperament as well, Justine could be as obstinate as her mother when she had an idea in her head that she had thought through.

Seeing Justine's Mother on that deck with her broad smile made me realise that finally I had broken through Marie's prejudice. She loved being on that deck that day and I like to think she had finally found some love for me.

In that period of my life, I have to say, I was the happiest I had ever been. I was with the woman I loved, the family I loved, and the French family had come around to me and accepted me. Or so I thought; Michel was not with us then.

When the parents left for Australia, Justine and I stayed on and flew down to Queenstown to go skiing.

On the night of our arrival, I had booked us into a Michelin star restaurant. We had a window overlooking the lake, which was reflecting a gorgeous full moon. The mountains behind were snow covered, bathed in the ethereal light of the moon. The scene could not be more magical. The food, the wine, everything was perfect. I kept my powder dry however. I did not want a spectacle in the restaurant and as the night was so beautiful I suggested we rug up and go for a walk along the lake side. I had the ring in my pocket, a couple of plastic glasses and two bubbly piccolos.

We sat down on a seat; it was so cold we could see our breath rising and swirling as we spoke. We snuggled into one another to capture the mutual warmth of our bodies. I had brought a car rug for extra warmth. Under the blanket I ran my hands up under Justine's jersey and merino under layer feeling her breasts and working her nipples. She undid my belt and felt for my stiffening cock. We could not be warmer on a cold night.

The lake was calm with the light of the moon leading across the shimmering water to us. It seemed the right time to make my move. My lead up was nonchalant, remarking, "you know on nights like this, it makes me think that marriage would be an excellent idea, don't you?"

"She simply replied, "Of course, why not?" and snuggled into me. My arm pulled her in as she continued to massage my cock. " Then I'd better give you this." I pulled the little locket containing the ring. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife mon amour, 'til death do us part and to love and to hold. Would a sophisticated French lady accept a kiwi bloke?"

She was a little bit confused with the way I had introduced it, until staring at the open locket and realising exactly what I was doing.

Then suddenly her hand left my cock and with both hands clasping her face her reply was direct. "Ooh la la! mais oui, yes yes yes, je t'aime!" Then she crushed my mouth and collapsed me onto the park seat. I struggled to un-attach the ring and Justine took an exaggerated pose, ring finger out and I attempted to put it on. "I hope this fits, unless your finger has fattened up since the last time we tried rings."

It did. Then out came the piccolos and plastic glasses. We toasted our future before hastily retiring to our hotel room. We walked briskly back to the hotel hand in hand, with Justine's fingers entwined in mine, with me conscious of her new ring against my skin.

In our hotel room, I lay undressed on the bed when Justine emerged naked from the bathroom, she glided across and stood in front of the floor to ceiling window staring out across the dipping moon lit waters of Wakitipu and the mountains beyond. The crystalline moonlight bathed her body, a picture of perfection like some silver marble Greek statue, I got up and moved across to stand behind her, running my hands up her body until I enclosed the small firm mounds of her breasts in my hand, her tall nipples tight between my fingers.

She reached down and grasped my penis and nibbled my neck then peering back out to the view whispered, "I love you Christopher, I love this place. Some day we will live here together, I want to be with you forever.'

I couldn't think of any finer words, and whispered in reply "Je t'aime Justine, we will." The night was perfect.

The following day's skiing was a struggle after that and we collapsed with exhaustion in the night but both of us could not be happier.

I was on top of my world. I was untouchable and nothing could go wrong.

*******

The proposal came as a surprise to Justine but we had discussed the possibility in the past and she must have thought that this trip was the perfect time. Happily, she had immediately agreed. I had been so certain that she would. I had not thought of the consequences if she had refused me.

However, I had previously discussed it with her father who said he would talk to Marie, her mother, when they had left for Australia. He had no problem in fact he was effusive about it.

We heard nothing from Australia and I was a little apprehensive that Marie would not be pleased after we returned to France. I need not have worried. Surprisingly, although not as effusive as her husband, she was actually quite gracious about accepting me as her daughter's fiancé. There was no talk of Philippe again and no such silliness. In fact, she expressed how much she enjoyed the trip and the generosity of my parents. They had taken full advantage of it, including the time spent at my parent's holiday home.

They had also made the most of the tour of the wine regions and Bernard mentioned that he was considering purchasing some land, but he was non-committal about the details.

Only one thing spoiled it for us and that was Justine's brother's ugly response to the news. While I was visiting the Chateau shortly after the return he caught me alone. He was apoplectic trying to express himself in English, "you.. you stupide. This is a big mistake. This marriage.. Je m'en bats les couilles! Aaah foutre! It will never happen, I tell you. I will stop it, you will see. She was always meant for Philippe!"

With that outburst, he shoved me and stalked off. I was totally taken aback; I was not expecting it at all. I had hardly ever spoken to the man. I mentioned it to Justine who frowned fiercely. She angrily said she would speak to him. I would love to have been a fly on the wall at the encounter. She said nothing about his comment on Philippe. When she reported on their encounter, I brought it up again, her reply, "Take no notice, it is his fantasy. It was all in the past, forget it."

But I couldn't forget it. She refused to say any more. It was unlike Justine not to be totally open about something.

After this incident Justine seemed to change. I can't put my finger on how exactly. It was my intuition, I suppose, she just did not seem quite so enthusiastic about the wedding. On the positive side relations between Marie and her daughter seemed to have thawed. They were no longer constantly arguing with one another and at worst were reasonably civil.

Following our engagement I found myself invited to attend with Justine parent's various functions, dinner evenings ballet and opera. And such like. I enjoyed learning a lot on the way and improving my French. I thought it meant that I was now accepted by Marie and took personal pride when she introduced me to her friends as her daughter's fiancé.

The cultural events certainly provided some contrast from the fringe theatre and the obtuse multimedia poetry events of the neo bohemes. It was a relief really. Even though my understanding of French was improving, I have to admit I struggled with understanding a lot of Neo-Boheme performances. Justine would always come away fizzing with enthusiasm and eager to explain everything to me. I politely faked enthusiasm but really going with her parents to more traditional performances was something a little more familiar for me..

I marvelled at the contradictions in Justine's family. The rugby man he was, Bernard was no arrogant sportif. A muscleman maybe but not a muscle head. He had his sensitivity; he would not be ashamed to be seen with tears in his eyes as his emotion rose as he attended an opera.

He was also a man of considerable intellect and business acumen. It seemed that Justine responded to this side of his character. Although she had been sporty in her younger self, she was not attracted to the jocks of this world. It seemed she was attracted to someone she could intellectually spar with. Someone who she trusted to critique her ideas without competing with her. She was in no way submissive; she held her own and responded with mutual respect.

Eventually Justine and I wed and it all went well. There was a slight dampener in that Michel would not attend, finding some event he and Philippe were to attend that in his eyes was more important. But we expected something like that. Justine did not seem stressed about it.

The wedding was held at the chateau. It was very small. My family arrived from New Zealand and there was room at the Chateau for them all to stay. The Chateau was large with a private cloistered courtyard. It was too large for Justine's family and it had been converted to be used for such events and the accommodation provided two BNB units.

With Justine's mother the only one in the family who was a practicing catholic and Justine's views on religion it was never going to be a big church wedding. Marie did wistfully express to me early on that she would like a big church wedding for her only daughter. I suspect she thought I might convince Justine but the thought of me converting, let alone trying to convince an adamant Justine meant it was never going to happen. Still, Marie was reluctantly accepting and bowed out gracefully on the subject.

Nick and Sera were our witnesses and my sister's daughter provided some colour as a flower girl. A civil ceremony was held at the local village hall, la maire. We exchanged our rings there then rather than having a religious ceremony we returned to the chateau and celebrated with a few friends and the family.

We did not have a grand honey moon. We simply drove down to Cassis on the Cote d'Azure in Justine's father's Merc. We stayed in a boutique hotel for a few days, hiking the cliffs and swimming the brilliant turquoise secret bays. After that we drove down toward Barcelona. I had never visited Barcelona and to visit was special for us both as the home of Gaudi the godfather of parametric architecture. So it became a sort of pilgrimage for us taking in the various works by Gaudi and his Catalan modernisme contemporaries. The highlight for me was the Casa Battlo. The vision of an iridescent St George slaying the dragon embedded in the building inspired our art work. In essence we were taking the vision and making it kinetic. My dream was to turn such a kinetic vision into a living building.

Along the way to Barcelona Justine had booked us into the Jardine'Eden resort in Heliopolis, Cape d'agde. Now this is billed as an Hoteliere naturiste. This was at the insistence of Justine. Cape d'Adge is the world's largest naturist resort. I had no idea until I arrived there and, I have to say, I was shocked. Apparently, the seaside village was the nudist capital of the world. It was nothing for Justine to wander around nude in our apartment but her relaxed ability to wander about nude in a public setting was a surprise to me. Of course, I reluctantly acquiesced as I have always been a little shy about my body. The result was I spent the time there walking around like a partially open pocket knife. It was one thing to walk about naked at home but this was a little stressful for me. Initially I felt jealous of others glancing at Justine's body but in the crowd we were ignored. I eventually adjusted to it and relaxed. The first night Justine had us booked in for a couple body massage. As well as relieving stress it seemed to get rid of most of my mental inhibitions I had at my arrival.

One incident stood out on the first evening. I was fussing around unpacking. Justine was sitting in a small armchair doing her old trick for attention.

You got it, she had taken her knickers off, pulled up her dress and spread.

Of course I stopped what I was doing and we ended up making love on the carpet. Afterward she was back in the chair cleaning up her creamed snatch with a handkerchief. She then lay back and spread her legs. I was sitting on the bed staring into her still very dilated vagina. A little cream was still sitting there.

She looked at me and frowned. Feeling obliged to say something I remarked, "behold the portal where our child will emerge."

Justine went silent, and a smile appeared on her face. One that I had not seen before and it was not directed at me. Her head was tilted downward and it appeared to me her smile was her desire for motherhood., as though she was smiling at a newborn.

She finally broke the silence saying, "oui, I would like that, I would like to be a mother. I would do that for you."

I was gobsmacked, didn't quite know what to say so I slipped across and took her awkwardly in my arms and let my actions be the response.

That was probably the most satisfying few moments of our stay at Cape dodge for me. It took a while for my heart to settle down after we had embraced and locked lips. I told her that I loved her so much and looked forward to being the father of our children.

We had a good night.

The following day after a late petite dejeuner we found a private spot in the sand dunes, where we could display our chateau acquired all over tans and cuddle. We actually made love, which seemed like fun in the bright sun. But it was not the most auspicious lovemaking as we had difficulty in dealing with the sand. The whole experience was at the limits of my acceptance of public displays of affection. Justine seemed to find it all funny if not a little disappointed at my reaction.

However back in our suite it was a different story with my libido obviously supercharged by our naked public activities.

In the evening Justine had us booked in for a Turkish Hammam. After having a body scrub and vigorous working over we had just enough energy left for dinner. Afterward we visited a cocktail bar and then we both hit the wall, and retired to our suite for a very deep sleep.

Secretly for me, I thought the whole experience was a downer in our otherwise perfect honeymoon. Justine did not give a satisfactory explanation for the visit but I was at pains not to make any issue about it. I took it as being sensitive.

Over time we had rid ourselves of most of our sexual inhibitions that conflicted with each of our personal sexual preferences but public sex and nudity was not something I was ever going to be at my most comfortable. I worried that it was some kink, some secret yearning of hers that could turn out to be an Achilles heel in our intimate relationship. I took it up with her, she said she was not worried and would respect my shyness. It was something that I would wonder and worry about. After I realised her confidence in being able to express herself naked in public was benign and would not threaten our relationship. She was not putting herself on display and flirting with it. I came to admire her for it and took pride that Justine could be so relaxed that way.

I suppose that was the reason that Justine was enthusiastic about injecting our nudity into our artwork. For me it was paradoxically an entirely different matter than going nude at Cap d' Age as I was not on display, the explicit glimpses of our nakedness in our kinetic compositions was anonymous.

*******

The months following our wedding were our most idyllic. Justine was a gentle woman. Our intimate life was liberal but Justine was not into wild animated sex. Her nipples were the trigger but they were also the monitor. If I was too rough her arousal dissipated. She never tired of me going down on her. She accepted anal play and penetration but she needed to be prepared by douching and showering before we made love. I used to wonder about our anal sex. Something as dirty as that just did not seem to equate with the cultured woman I imagined her to be. She was obviously completely comfortable and experienced with it and always prepared herself meticulously. She used to tease me with it. I have to admit she had a near, if not perfect set of globes, and she would shimmy and twerk them to bring me on. It seemed so much out of character it was all I could do not to prematurely ejaculate. But once buried in the warm inside, the feeling was glorious as she clenched her lubricated butt, as I slid in and out.

No part of the apartment was immune to spontaneous sex but I was not one for being too public about it all. Not saying that Justine did not provoke me at times. I would be initially aroused but would fade, be it at some convenience, elevator or party. Possibly not exciting but I was not built that way.

But we spent time loving each other that way and never became weary with it. There always seemed to be something new to try, be it toys or light bondage. Spent and blissfully laying there with the post coital aroma of her juices and my semen, the feeling seemed to cement our marital bond.

On Sunday mornings I had time to lie and watch Justine at her yoga. Despite her predilection for wandering the house naked she always had her special gear and for yoga. She wore a light coloured two piece set with tiny barefoot pumps. I would lazily watch her body in a slow writhe as she moved from one asana to another. Her yoga seemed to be like erotic slow motion ballet to me. She was aware of my voyeuristic delight and responded by smiling and being a little theatrical about it all, her early ballet training coming to the fore.

Eventually she got sick of me watching and decided I could call her asanas, so she gave me a list. She wanted me to call them in french because that's what she was used to. Therefore I might call Inspirez, La posture du chat et de la vache expirez. That is inhale, cat and cow position, exhale. Then on it would be on to warrior 1 to warrior 2, inhale, exhale slowly as she moves to prayer position etc etc. My favorite was la posture de la grenoouille, the frog position. That one could make me really horny.

That episode came to a head when on impulse I suddenly hopped on board her half way through her cow asana. It was the bum sticking up, I just could not resist. It did not help that I had pulled down her pants and had my hard on her bum crack.

Shit did I get yelled at. ""Imbicile, Pervert!" She called me 'pervert' often as a sort of endearment, putting the stress on the English 't.' It always made me smile. I rolled off and she pounced on me knowing I was ticklish. After she had rendered me helpless she put her face close to mine, saying. "Don't give me frights like that. From now on you can do yoga with me. No more mischief."

As a result of that little incident, as ordered I accompanied her in yoga but that was not half as much fun as just watching her.

We used yoga to keep fit along with running regularly or riding our bikes. Always, she would have a suit of clothing tailored for the occasion when it was exercise, be it yoga pants and lycra or whatever it took to look chic and professionally fit.

******

Meanwhile work on the project continued at a pace. It was now under rapid construction and would be finished in the next year. I was having to look to my next project. Our backers had negotiated a deal with the Chinese in Shanghai. It would be huge, a tower higher than the Burj Khalifa in Dubai and making it the tallest building in Asia. It had its own urban district including a festival hall and an entertainment park at its base.

This would be a major shift in Justine's life. She planned to take a year long sabbatical. She would be on half pay but as she would be part of the project as well as using it for academic purposes, her income would be supplemented. Beyond that first year our thinking was vague. She thought she may come back and after a short time, resign her position.

We were talking about children and we settled on three. Justine wanted a family. Coupled with that there had been a great response to the exhibition and we toyed with the idea of creating our own exhibition in the future. If we established a private practice we could indulge in our artwork while juggling our family aspirations. The fly in the ointment was that I would be contractually tied to the Chinese project for at least three years but the financial reward would be enough to set us up on our own with a fully equipped electronic atelier.

As the time grew nearer Justine became understandably nervous about leaving France. Nick and I began flying out for short periods laying the ground work for our commission and assembling the team. The team would include European and US interests as well as Chinese in a grand collaboration. Our engineers were a global British firm. Nick and I had input into establishing the team but were less centrally involved with the financial negotiations. For our final trip I was away for a month. Justine did not like us being apart so it became a strain on our marriage. She would always sulk a little when I left.

About this time, I was back in France for about two weeks and was staying at the Chateau. Justine and Marie had left to go shopping. I happened to be somewhere near the front door when the chimes were rung. Having nothing to do I was curious who had arrived because there had been the throaty roar of a vehicle coming up the drive and the skid of a sudden stop in front. One of the staff answered the door and was talking with the man who had arrived. The conversation was in French but I heard Justine's name mentioned a few times so I stepped out to greet whoever it was. There stood an immaculately groomed and very suave guy at about my age. He was tanned and had blonde wavy hair cut short. He wore a tastefully conservative open necked shirt, slacks and loafers. He raised his eyebrows when he saw me and obviously knew who I was but was not expecting me to be here. I had never met him so I immediately enquired. "Bonjour, were you looking for Justine?" The staff member turned to me rolling her eyes and shrugged then left us.

He appeared to be taken off guard then turned on the charm and replied speaking in perfect English, "Ah Bonjour, you must be Christopher, charmed to meet you. You may have heard of me, I am Philippe, Philippe Dupont. I did not know you were in France, I thought you were in China or somewhere. Ah.. no, I am not looking for Justine, I was looking for Michel, is he in?"

Despite his smoothness he seemed to colour somewhat. I sensed he was a little embarrassed. I figured he knew exactly where Michel was.

" He is not here; he would be at his town office this time of day."

"I am very sorry, I should have known. It was nice to meet you, au revoir."

And with that he abruptly turned, walked bristly to the late model Porsche Carrera Cabriolet parked in front and with a slight wheel spin roared away.

When Justine came home, I asked her why Philippe would be looking for her. I described his demeanour and wondered what his intention was. She seemed as perplexed as I was. She suggested that he might have been there to visit maman. She said maman loved him and always wanted us to marry. They have a mutual affection and he has dropped in just to see her in the past.

I said he didn't mention her but he did mention Michel.

"That's odd," She replied, "He knows more about where Michel is than we ever know'"

I knew Justine had a history with him and although it crossed my mind that his actions were suspicious the fact that they had been friends meant perhaps it was just an innocent enquiry. Still, he had been evasive indicating he was a little guilty about what he was up to. I consigned the incident to memory but for the first time I felt a little wary about Phillip's history with Justine.

I also had to wonder about this "mutual affection." with Marie. I suspected he held a torch for Justine and that was an excuse to drop by to keep the connection with Marie and keep tabs on Justine.

******

Finally, it was time to move. Justine would come with me so that we could settle into the apartment supplied to us by the consortium, then she would return to France to finalize leasing out her apartment and the shipping of our personal gear. Nick would be with her to organise the technical team from France, having already shipped our specialist gear and acquired what we would additionally need in China.

The whole process was well organised, then it wasn't. Once we were all settled in as a team with our domestic and work accommodation all in place, the global politics shifted under our feet. The US government decided to punish the Chinese for what they saw as a threat. Measures were taken to redress a trade imbalance and then began a tit for tat action between the US and China.

We were collateral damage and the Chinese reneged on our agreement. Our backers hastily renegotiated the contract. In the end it came down to our IT. The Chinese wanted that badly. From our backers point of view, with the advance of technology ours would eventually be eclipsed by other developing software and methods. Previously we had seen our collaboration with the Chinese as a way of building upon our current systems.

That would no longer be the case. Our backers were hard nosed enough to negotiate a settlement with a healthy return on their total investment in us but they would step back leaving us high and dry. Meanwhile the Chinese would use our team only for training their own and from there our entire team except for Nick and I would be dropped. The whole thing was devastating.

Nick and I would remain to run a Chinese team. We retained our copyrights on our source and object coding but there was nothing to stop them writing code to replicate similar outcomes. Of course we had a patent on our particular type of touchscreen that the Chinese respected while we were working with them.

Originally Justine was to be employed by the project as well; now she no longer was. Furthermore, without the backing of the Chinese corporation the Government would not allow her full time employment.

Since Nick and I were the only foreigners now directly employed we were assigned another foreigner as an interpreter. She was Japanese and her name was Setsuko. We would call her Suki. She was extraordinary, she had trained as an engineer but was a heck of a linguist. She could speak seven distinct languages fluently and had a working knowledge of others with their dialects. Apart from English they were all Asian.

Justine was at a loose end so Suki paid her to teach her French, Spanish and German. As a linguist Justine was no slouch either adding Basque and Italian to her mix. It was enough to make an antipodean inadequate. Justine did set about coaching me in French and occasionally I would bamboozle her with my little knowledge of Māori but my language abilities ended there.

Justine was able to score some guest lecturing organised with a couple of local universities but she was not allowed regular employment. Suki, Justine, Nick and I became a tight knit team. Us against the Chinese. Suki and Nick fell for one another and before long Suki moved in with Nick.

Once the Chinese had been trained by our team and the wider overseas team dismissed it came down to Nick, Suki and I working intensively on the project. Suki spoke Mandarin and Cantonese so was with us constantly and as an engineer could oversee work directly. We worked long hours. We reported to a chain smoking arrogant bastard who we could barely manage. He would constantly shout and snap at us but he could not get rid of us so in the end we just barely tolerated each other. The Chinese did not make us welcome and that added stress to our work. Three years working with people who really did not want us to be there did not give us anything to look forward to. To add insult to injury we lost our name association with the project. We would just be cogs in the wheel and others would get credit for our intellectual property.

With no steady work Justine would sit in our poky apartment over a computer undertaking continuing education and writing theoretical papers. It was no wonder she was getting cabin fever. My stress at work did not help the relationship. We did not get a lot of free time so we tried to make the most of it when we could.

It was not surprising then that Justine became agitated with me. She became unhappy and uncharacteristically niggly. She too was obviously stressed having no work that was fulfilling her. I was under pressure, as l was working against impossible deadlines.

On top of all this Justine was becoming homesick. She would bring up her life in France constantly. We had our first serious arguments borne out of her frustrations and finally she felt that she had to get away and went back to France for a month.

That was a huge decision as I know how she had previously hated for us to be apart. When she arrived back, we had a serious discussion about our future. Unfortunately, because our backers were pulling back, my negotiated income was a lot less than anticipated. Nick and I were looking at alternatives. When Justine went back to France, she was looking at potential projects that we could collaborate on and came up short. We found that Asia and the middle east were the only areas with the kind of projects that would support us.

Things grew to a head when Justine was contacted by Bernard announcing that her mother, Marie, was gravely ill with cancer. Justine packed up immediately to return to France to support her mother. Justine's stormy relationship growing up with her mother invoked a great deal of guilt and Justine was initially inconsolable. It was a forgone conclusion, she had to go.

This all occurred toward the end of the year. I was advised that since our project in Bordeaux had been completed that year, it was being put in for an architectural award. The award ceremony would take place about a month after Justine returned to France. The plan then was for me to return and spend a couple of weeks there and we could rejig our lives going forward. I was contracted for another two years with the Chinese so we would discuss a strategy then, depending on the health of her mother.

As we had done when she had returned for her first sojourn back in France, we would call every day at a suitable time. The time difference was difficult for us. I would make some time around midday for her to call me early morning, her time. The time difference created an interference in Justine's life, as a result the regularity dropped off and sometimes it was difficult to make contact at all. On my side I kept a strict discipline of calling but, I guess with her mother and whatever was happening it was more difficult for her. She always seemed to have a good story. Knowing I would be over there soon I just hung on so that I could get back to France and work things out.

Getting back had problems. My own commitments meant that I would arrive in Bordeaux a day before the award ceremony. My plane was delayed and I missed a connection so by the time I had reorganised my trip from Charles de Gaulle to Bordeaux via train, I arrived in the afternoon of the awards.

So, the evening did not go well as I arrived not having slept and very jet lagged. Justine had leased her apartment out so she booked a hotel stay for us for two nights then we would return to the Chateau. She stayed the first night alone.

That brings us to that horrible, horrible night.

It was already late when I arrived. Justine met me at the railway station. She seemed on edge, twitchy. As we were in a rush I was not surprised. I asked her how her mother was and she just shrugged and said "the same." We went straight to the hotel and I quickly changed into my suit as Justine completed her dressing and makeup. She had a plain red cocktail dress with a floral silver broach I had bought for her in New Zealand. We made the venue just in time to meet Nick and Suki who led us to our table and meet the others.

Despite my tiredness the evening went really well until it didn't. I was particularly proud when we got our main award. The old man was giving his speech and he called me up for my work, getting me to stand while everyone clapped.

It was after the award when everything turned bad. A few of us went to a café to meet up with our friends. There were a few from Neo-Boheme and some others from the practice who were not included in the group at the awards. Sera was there who came along to join in on the celebration. Everyone was a little jaded as we were coming off the high of the awards and a fair bit of alcohol had been drunk.

I noticed that Justine still seemed restless and on edge, she snapped at me a couple of times, which was a first for her. She never did that when we were out with others. It put me on edge. I looked around me. We were under an awning as it was outside. There was street noise and slashing lights with passing traffic. There was music playing from the café, some jazz funk seemingly at odds with the atmosphere.

Nicki and Suki were there. They planned on spending some time in Bordeaux and then travelling down to San Sebastian. Nick was a keen surfer and planned some time surfing on the Atlantic coast and he wanted to take in Nazare, Portugal, on a kind of a surfing pilgrimage to the place that boasted the largest surf in the world. I had him on, saying he wasn't to surf there because we needed him back in Shanghai. He suggested he might catch a wave back to Shanghai if he caught one large enough.

Then there was Markel. He was an architect from Bilbao and a core member of the team. He looked like Trotsky reincarnated. He was also involved with the Neo-Bohemes and had submitted to the exhibition that was still finding its way around Europe. He was also a talented musician playing banjo and throat singing, part time with a folk metal band.(To the disgust of others in the Neo -Boheme, I might say.) He wore a Basque beret in the Neo-Boheme manner; his beret monogram featured the Basque flag. He seemed almost asleep, idly contemplating a glass of absinthe he insisted on drinking. Gaspard was there. He was an old friend of Justine, they had been alumni together at the Confluence Institute and he had taught there for some time. Gaspard wasn't his real name but he had bright red hair, which he wore in a close burr on his head giving him the appearance of a French children's stuffed toy fox named Gaspard.

He was in a menage de trois with two women who were sitting next to him, Helene and Consuela. All three were foundation members of the Neo-Boheme. Consuela had on a black and white striped top with a red neo-boheme beret over her short black hair. She was sitting on Helene's lap with her arm around Helene's neck smoking a Capitane and the reason we were outside in the first place. Helene had an extraordinary haircut; it was a black thick french flared bob, sticking out like a parasol complete with a low fringe. These umbrella-like cuts were typical of many Neo-Boheme women but Helene's along with her goggle-like glasses made me think of her as an alien. She wasn't too keen on me either.

The menage de trois started out when Gaspard was living with Helene but he had a secret affair with Consuela and when Helen found out she kicked out Gaspard and began a sexual relationship with Consuela moving in with her. Eventually they allowed Gaspard back. He was apparently very happy to do that.

There were others but these were the key members of our table when the terrible conversation started.

Apart from Markel and I, the rest of us were hovering over glasses of beer. I had a glass of the best chateau red and was idly swirling it without any real intention of drinking it. I was just too tired at that point.

The evening's crisis began when Helene turned to Justine, speaking in French. At this stage I was becoming reasonably good at French, probably more understanding it rather than speaking it fluently.

Helene was speaking forcefully and rapidly in a low voice and I could not quite understand exactly what she was saying but it sounded something like, "Justine when are you going to tell Christopher, go on, do it now and get it over with."

Justine looked horrified, glancing backwards and forwards from me to Helene. She then started in on Helene saying, "shut up, keep out of my affairs." But Helene kept at her.

At that point I stepped in, saying, "come on guys, there aren't any subtitles here, what's going on. What is it you are going to tell me Justine?"

At that stage I was blissfully innocent, it did not sound good but I wasn't expecting how bad it could be. "Justine put her head down and without looking me in the eyes said "I am going for a divorce." That's all she said.

It took a while for that to sink in. I looked at her aghast. I could not believe what I had just heard. She couldn't be serious. But the way she looked back at me, her big eyes beginning to glisten, I realised then she was serious. "What's that? Are you unilaterally wanting to end our marriage." There was a chorus of gasps from around us. Most seemed to be surprised except for Gaspard, Helene, Consuela and Markel, the core members of Neo-Boheme.

I looked at Sera, Justine's best friend for some kind of support and she shrugged, looked pained and started to cry. Nick put his hand on my shoulder.

I was stunned, I literally couldn't speak. People shifted away leaving me to talk with Justine. Or rather Justine to talk to me. I was like the proverbial stunned mullet, I was dead tired, jet lagged and could not comprehend what was going on. Justine started on an explanation leaning across the rectangular table as I sat upright, back in my chair. I was fixated on her mouth and her red lipstick as she rapidly tried to explain everything. I couldn't hear her words, they just flew right past me.

Helen returned and stood over me then quite deliberately spoke in English. "Justine, cut him loose now. C'est fini, C'est un boloss. If you are afraid to leave with him, come with us." She did not get to finish what she was saying. Justine's reaction was explosive, like the Krakatoan eruption, she turned on Helene. I have never heard Justine like that, I did not know Justine could be so foul mouthed as she ripped into Helene. Dechete! Grosse Merde! Helen backed off, gathered up Consuela and Gaspard and made a hurried exit. Gaspard looked back at me. He was obviously embarrassed. He and Markel were our closest friends in the Neo-Boheme as well as an integral part of my team. Helen yelled at me as she left "Bidon!" I was obviously consigned as a fake.

Sera rushed over and hugged Justine's shoulders, Markel finished his Absinthe in a gulp and tried to join them but was pushed away by Sera and quietly left.

Justine began sobbing almost hysterically, another first for me. She eventually reached out and held my hand. Standing, I joined her and she nuzzled into me and kissed my neck. "Let's go back to the hotel and I'll explain." I was totally confused. "Can we leave it until morning? I couldn't handle anything right now."

We got back to the hotel and I collapsed with exhaustion, the stress of the conversation, the jet lag, take your pick.

At least I had a good night's sleep. I don't know how Justine slept but when I awoke in the morning, she was already awake. I lay there thinking before I let her know I was awake. I was thinking about the night before, what I could comprehend and the reactions of the others.

I felt the Neo-Bohemes had something to do with it. I knew many of them resented Nick and me as people who were not true Neo-Bohemes and foreigners. They seemed to think that we had somehow hi-jacked their cause with the exhibition.

Justine had explained some of this in our telephone conversations while we were apart. When the exhibition opened in Berlin the Germans had wanted Justine and I to attend and to give a keynote lecture in a symposium they were having on the movement. Some of the movement were so angry that Justine was compelled to decline. I felt I had to attend because Justine and I had produced the publication as well as papers on the subject. Because our installation was the most talked about exhibit, the Germans regarded us as central to the movement. This in turn further incensed those who resented my involvement.

It was a two edged sword for me as I had planned to use the publicity to advance Nick and my next professional move. Since our American Backers had abandoned us we needed to look for someone else. Unfortunately the publicity from the exhibition did not provide that avenue.

I wondered whether the movement had somehow got to Justine. Yes, I would eventually find out it did, but it was much more complicated than that. It was only a factor as I would learn from our conversation over breakfast.

As soon as Justine realised I was awake she leant over and kissed me. "J'taime." She whispered.

"And I love you," I replied, "So what's going on?"

There followed a silence that frustrated me, so sighing I said, "OK, I'll call room service, we'll get breakfast and we can talk this through."

We finished breakfast avoiding the subject before I took the initiative. "OK you acknowledge we love each other then why are you taking this action unilaterally."

She replied, "our careers are heading in different directions."

"How so?"

"Your career is supporting global architects on huge projects. Mine is academic with a more modest practice. We are not coming together on this."

"That's only because the Chinese reneged and we will not be financially set up for the practice we want. We are looking for another project to achieve financial independence."

"And who is backing you this time?"

"OK, OK we are working on that. But what about us? We talked about having children, we can advance that in the meantime, perhaps."

"No, we don't have a stable situation." Then Justine dropped the bomb. "Anyway, I have applied and been offered the position as a full professor and I accepted."

"What the fuck!" I was ambushed with that one.' How come you did that without consulting me!" I had never shouted at Justine before but I did that time and it shocked her.

She shouted back, "Because I decided on divorce."

I buried my head in my hands, "Why, why.. why for god's name."

"You know, we have been drifting apart since we went to China. One thing after another has driven a wedge in our marriage."

"You've never said that before. I know you were having a hard time. We were always discussing it. You never said it was driving us apart. That is not how I saw it. If I knew that was the problem I would want to fix it."

"But I saw it that way. I thought you understood. It was absolutely obvious."

"Maybe to you, I don't know.... So you have utterly made up your mind."

" I am sorry Christopher. Our careers are driving us apart. Please understand I am doing this because I love you. I need to set you free to achieve what you have always said you are made for. I would simply hold you back. You could never be satisfied with a small practice in Bordeaux. It is simply not you."

What she said seemed to make logical sense to me and on that spur of the moment I lost the will to fight for us. In retrospect it was a big mistake but she immediately made me think of Natalie. The thing I was missing at the time was that I was never in love with Natalie in the way that Justine had consumed me. If I had just realised the significance of that in the moment maybe our whole lives would have been different. In electing not to fight for her I doomed both of us to heartache.

"It happened before to me, you know. Splitting a relationship because of our career paths."

"You've never said. Who was it?"

"Natalie. I never told you about her because we never talked much about our past relationships. Maybe that was a mistake. Natalie and I were together for a couple of years. It wasn't a hard break up. I realise now that I was never in love with her like I am with you. I suppose we drifted apart but it was her career in the end. She had to move to Australia. There was not enough of a bond to sacrifice my career to join her. Anyway we had never really talked about a future together. She wasn't into architecture. She told me in the end that I worked too much and to remember that with my next girl. She wasn't unkind about it. We never, like, argued ever really. "

"Where is she now?"

"I have no idea, still in Australia for all I know. What about you? Is another love interest a factor here. Philippe maybe. You have never said anything about your relationship with him."

"I know perhaps I should have explained. But no I would never do that. I would never cheat on you; you must know that."

"You are right, I have always trusted you but you must understand hitting me with this out of the blue has shaken that trust. It was an ambush that I was totally unprepared for. I just feel confused and I really don't know what to think or say. What about your mother? She detested me initially. I know she is ill but has she put pressure on you?"

"I admit maman is a factor, but only in the possibility of her dying. It has put my own future into focus. The opportunity came up for the professorship and that is a dream for me. I decided I need to be independent to fulfil that dream. Besides, it enables me to reconnect with maman and help her. She needs me. Yes maman discouraged our relationship in the beginning but she did come to like you."

We talked round and round about the subject but when Justine makes her mind up about something you know she has put a lot of thought into it.

"Why did Helene set out to humiliate me?"

"Because she has always hated you and she was given the chance to be cruel. I hate her for it but then I have always been wary of her, I don't know how she found out I was planning to divorce you."

"Surely Sera wouldn't tell her."

"No never, but I think I know. Helene knows Philippe. I suspect Michel heard it from maman and told him..... The more I think about it, that's what happened."

I would often wonder whether there was someone else involved but there was no evidence. Although I said my trust in her was shaken, in fact I had always admired her integrity. To me she always seemed straight up and down; never a liar. I did understand how people can diverge, I mean, it happened with Natalie but the thing was this time it was upsetting me emotionally. I had taken the step to marry her. I had never considered that with another woman, even Natalie, and now that huge step for me had been thrown back in my face.

I wondered about their relationship and it dawned on me that her feelings about her mother were the seeds of the problem rather than her mothers interference. Eventually I came to realise that after all her years of battling with her mother, faced with the cancer she fell into an obsessional desire to please her, including satisfying the desires her mother had for her in the preceding years.

That day we travelled out to the chateau. I felt embarrassed meeting her parents and Bastien. Bernard pulled me aside at one stage to tell me he thought she was crazy. He said her mother being ill probably caused it. "Justine always fought Marie from a young age, I thought Marie was jealous of Justine and Justine just responded with being contrary about everything. I think she is now overcome with guilt."

He said Justine is quite clear on his views and he regrets the awful decision she made. He said he will always remember me with affection. He lightly punched my arm. "Le Rugby... eh.. all blacks." He gave a thumbs up. The last thing he said intrigued me, he said enigmatically, "I don't think this will be the end, I have a strong suspicion our paths might cross again in the future."

I stared at him, "What do you mean?"

"I can't say but I have plans of my own. Just forget I said it for the time being. There cannot be promises."

Marie looked drawn when I saw her. She was walking around but obviously feeling the effects of chemotherapy. She was wearing a bandanna and gave me a wane smile. She never mentioned the impending divorce. She asked after my parents and how the project was going in China but although she was gracious she didn't feel up to discussing much.

It was breakfast the next morning that forced my hand. I was sitting alone at the table. Justine and the others were somewhere and Justine had told me to go ahead without her.

Michel walked in, grunted bonjour and sat down silently having a cut baguette, some ham and his orange juice. He glanced up occasionally. It was his smarmy smile that got me. I decided then to cut and dash. I would change my tickets and head back to China as soon as I could..

I gave Nick a call. He commiserated with me and said it was probably the best. He could not believe how cruel Justine was and said he never in his wildest dreams would imagine she would do such a thing. I then started to say that maybe we are culturally too different; a sophisticated French woman and me, a kiwi lad. He replied, "Fuck don't say that in front of Suki. I think that's shit. If Suki and I can do it, so can you too." He then got Suki on the line

Suki began by saying I should stay and fight for her. I said " No Justine can be obstinate when she has made up her mind. She seems to have a lot of people lined up behind her."

I then stuck my neck out and contacted Sera. Sera was initially annoyed that I rang her declaring that she is Justine's friend first and foremost. I replied that I understood that and she is free to tell Justine about my call. I just wanted to hear Sera's point of view. She softened and went on to say that she liked me very much and did not want us to split but she understood Justine's determination in her career. Then unsolicited she went on to say, " Justine has been under a huge amount of stress with her mother and some Neo-Bohemes who wanted her to lose you. But don't ever think there is another man involved. Justine is not a cheater. Justine loved you and still does. She will be devastated, I know, but she sees no other way."

Well, I guess Sera had the last word. When I announced I was leaving early Justine broke down but she still didn't back down. We slept together the last night, or tried to but we didn't make love. Justine did make a half-hearted attempt but I was frozen. I was too tense.

In the morning, as I left, she was uncontrollably sobbing, she kept saying that to remember that she loved me but this was the only way. This was the second display of waterworks from someone I never thought of as being that emotional.

Thankfully Michel left us alone but Bernard, Bastien and Marie came out to wish me well and were unified in wishing it had turned out better. Justine couldn't bear to come to the station with me. She stood at the door sobbing uncontrollably, hiccuping with eyes and nose running, trying to compose herself. I reached for her but she waved me away and ran inside. I stood bereft until Bernard patted my shoulder affectionately, to leave.

I didn't look back when Bernard drove me away. We were both silent as we headed to the station, Bernard just stared grimly ahead. The final words Bernard said to me as I boarded the train was "Au revoir, mon bon ami, and I mean it."

I had plenty of time to think on the plane. She was a total contradiction on our parting. She did not want me to leave and did not want me to stay. She obviously loved me but there were forces inside her that stifled that love. There seemed no will to work a mutual solution to those devils in her that were driving her from me.

I realised how little I knew about Justine's past relationships. It was a puzzle as she was always very open about anything else. It was something I did not push and took it all on trust, I guess. I remembered that meeting with Phillipe. He was obviously still sniffing around. I believed everyone when they said Justine would not cheat but I did not trust Philippe. I was certain he would try something.

On the plane, I was neither grieving nor hating her, just numb really. I could not get my head around the fundamental point. She loved me, that seemed obvious to me, but she had to divorce me. How could a person be as distraught as she was and push me away. Was there something about women or the French that I was missing. I suppose my logical mind accepted her logic but emotionally the whole notion did not gel. In the end I weighed it up. Obviously the thing with her mother is the major cause. If her Mother dies maybe she will come around. I wasn't comfortable with the thought, it was like wishing someone dead, but it did seem like the only semblance of hope for our relationship.

Even when I arrived back in China. I don't think I ever believed that the split was permanent. It just did not seem credible. Sure I got angry from time to time, and anger could consume me for a time. I coped by joining the hash house harriers and every Sunday pounded along for miles with the group in and around Shanghai to work it all off.

Justine and I stayed in touch as we worked through the divorce. We decided to do it through the process of mutual consent. This meant we would be free in a matter of weeks. I still did not fully understand the need. Every time we were on the phone together, she would end with telling me she loved me and me, her. I talked with Nick about it when he returned. He suggested I just do it as we could still get back together if we decided to.

To add a note of unreality to it I did not have an appropriate lawyer so Justine got me one.

A couple of months after I had returned to China, I was back in Bordeaux for some left-over business. This enabled me to check in with the lawyer and finalize the paperwork for the divorce. This was the least painful part. It was easy, we had no children and few chattels to quibble over.

I contacted Justine and we met for coffee and at a cafe. My heart was pounding as I approached the café. She was sitting outside smoking a cigarette. I stopped. I never knew she smoked. She never did with me. She saw me and hastily stubbed it out. I never smoked myself and hated the habit. I didn't understand why people did it and when I saw her smoking I felt angry about it. I know, now, the stress she was under and that's when people are drawn to smoking, but I have never felt that. Anyway, it created a barrier for me as I sat down. We were incredibly polite with one another and skirted around anything contentious. I noted a cold tone in her voice that did not give me any confidence. She sounded stiff like she was angry about something but her words did not match that.

I had this grand idea that we could start a reconciliation but when she mentioned that I would soon receive notification of the divorce I was deflated. Then she mentioned that she was now back in her old apartment. She had arranged for the tenant to move. She had organised that before the award night. Then we just talked about inconsequential things. She told me how her new position was a challenge but she was enjoying it. I really did not want to know that but I said nothing and just endured her self-congratulations. In the end I still felt numb. She looked at me and realised I didn't want to hear. Then she looked down and mumbled "J'ai merde."

"What," I replied.

"I screwed up, didn't I?"

"You sure did. But there's no going back. What's done is done."

I had arrived hopeful and I left as numb and confused as I had been previously.

Whatever ideas I had for reconciliation, they were effectively killed by circumstances. I was overtaken by hopelessness. The only way out of this was just to look resolutely to the future. Put the experience behind me. I am normally optimistic and my view in life is that when the going gets tough the tough get going. There would be others, this relationship was just a rehearsal. Then again who was I kidding?

******

Afterward we continued to exchange phone calls until the final notification of the divorce came through and we stopped. We didn't discuss stopping, we both did not think to call, I suppose. Her last words to me were "au revoir mon amour," and rang off leaving me hanging without being able to say goodbye.

I ordered and had delivered a red rose on St Valentines Day. I got no response

From then on, there was absolutely no communication but somehow within me, I could not believe it. I kept thinking she would ring me or mysteriously turn up in Shanghai. Bizarrely I even seemed to see her features in Chinese women on the street.

Despite my resolution to move on I just could not accept in my heart that we were history.

*********

It was Nick who termed the end of my relationship with Justine as divergence. He said that when we arrived in China to find the Chinese reneging on our commission, we were forced to set off in different directions. The marriage wasn't going to work if we were on different paths. I replied it was just the story of my life, it's just that there was a fork in the tale.

I suggested again that perhaps it was the difficulty of bridging two cultures. Maybe you really don't get to know each other in any depth. Nick told me again not to say that in earshot of Suki. We laughed at that and he replied, "In all seriousness I don't have a problem with Suki and between us and the Japanese there is a bigger gulf. You both need to come half way and you are always learning about one another. It is a matter of will from both of you. The key is to not let love blind you but allow it to help you."

I took that as sage advice. Pity it was too late for me.

When my divorce was finally granted, it turned out to be an emotional gut punch for me. I thought by now it was just a bureaucratic piece of documentation but it was like closing a lid on a coffin. I am not a drinking man so it did not affect me that way but the 'shock', yes, it was a real shock. It left me depressed and bitter and when it came to women, I was civil with those I had to interact in business, but beyond that I could be deliberately unkind..

Suki was an exception, of course. She saw how unhappy I was and invited her sister over from Japan for a 2-week holiday. Suki and her sister Hiroko were like two peas from the proverbial pod. They would shyly giggle together, hand to mouth, secretly talking about us western boys, I imagine. Both wore their hair in bobs. Hiroko's was a little more stylish with streaks through it. They both had flawless alabaster skin, heart shaped face with cherry lips, they moved so gracefully you could imagine them as Geishas. Hiroko was delightful and we began a brief affair while she was there. It was never going to go anywhere although Suki hoped it would. She missed her sister.

Everything about Hiroko was small. Seeing her naked with her black tuft of hair on her mons and tiny tits just like Justine's was erotic but sex with her was not fulfilling. I compared her constantly with Justine and Hiroko was very shy and as we had just met, was not inclined to be adventurous. She was like a porcelain doll that I was constantly afraid of breaking. Sexually I was big for her and I was conscious that I would hurt her. Nonetheless as a companion she was great company, funny and fun loving but with Suki constantly there as chaperone it wasn't conducive to spreading our wings.

I was genuinely sad when she left. I think she was keen to continue our relationship but I confess I did not feel there was a future. There were a couple of awkward video calls and that was it. Suki said that their parents would not like both their daughters disappearing overseas with western men. I think she was just covering for my bad manners, I suppose.

I have to say for the rest of the time I was in China I was not encouraging any kind of relationship except strictly business and transactional. Unlike France I did little culturally. I read a lot on my kindle or online when I had time. Socially I would just drink with the friends I made in the Hash House Harriers. Green bottles of classic steinlager was my tipple of choice. At least it reminded me of home.

The single expats from the hash house harriers I drank with were just a bunch of blokes on the loose, really. Somebody came up with the bright idea of flying down to Hong Kong to sample the working girls there. There was a crackdown in Shanghai and the risks of a foreigner being caught with a girl were probably not worth it.

I had never been part of a gang of guys in my youth. I had been a swat at school. I got by with one or two close friends and it worked for me. But now being part of a mob of 5 or 6 guys behaving badly brought a new kind of thrill. I suppose my bitterness toward women fueled the cynic in me. As an all-boys adventure to Hong Kong Nick and Suki did not originally accompany us. Suki thoroughly disapproved of the group.

I knew of a kiwi mate, Gordon, from university days living in Hong Kong as a house architect for some property taipan and on my first trip down looked him up.

He was still nominally single so he joined us on our nights out, which I have to say advanced my sexual education in ways I had not previously imagined. We drank, we caroused in the bar with the working girls, or whatever we could get away with without being arrested. We had a great time and decided we would make it a regular trip. All of us from Shanghai had in common the restrictive atmosphere of long hours at work, and we were all frustrated singles. Eventually, a couple actually married locals, the rest mostly returned to their home countries.

Before I left Hong Kong after the first trip I visited Gordon in his office on the forty third floor of a ridiculously tall building. Gordon had not known what I had been doing since architectural school and was utterly fascinated. After listening to me he took me to see his big boss, Brendon Chan, to fill him in on my background. Brendon listened but was non committal.

Nick and I had been struggling with our future once the contract ended. We no longer had our US backers or a team. We now had our IT set up and being maintained by guys who would not leave with us when we left Shanghai.

We had practices interested in our talents in south east Asia. Suki helped with that but nobody with the kind of mega project we were geared for, so the phone call I got from Gordon a week after my return was a godsend. His company was interested in some form of collaboration and invited Nick, Suki and I down to discuss how that might work. It needn't be a pitch but an informal way of getting to know one another.

This time we elected to take the high-speed train down. Although that would take longer, the eight hours would allow us private time together to discuss the options we could offer.

When we arrived at Kowloon, we were met by a chauffeured limo who took us to Brendon Chan's private residence on the other side of Hong Kong Island where we stayed for three days working through ideas while enjoying Brendon's hospitality and a private beach. It helped that we had Suki's language skill that would hold us in good stead from Jakarta up to Beijing. We seemed to get on very well personally with Brendon and his senior team. It all felt workable. So different from the Shanghai Chinese.

From then on, the clouds lifted and we saw light. with our work. Our continued isolation in the Shanghai office meant the final year would be a year of purgatory, but now we could begin seriously dreaming and actively planning our future. It just meant juggling our future planning commitments with our day to day work.

Our new position would mean basing ourselves in Hong Kong but that looked good to me. At this time there was not a particular project on offer but Brendon was willing to back us to build a team. Working with Brendon we could either chase projects as partners or work directly for Brendon. Brendon had a raft of development on the go we could be tested on. Although these would be bread and butter projects we would be able to add some individual flair where there was opportunity.

In our last days in Shanghai, one of Hash House guys, Roger, announced he was getting married. It was to be a wedding with his English fiancee on the beach at Phuket. Every Englishman's dream apparently. We all decided to have his stag party in Patpong, Bangkok on the way down, ending up with three days of mild debauchery. Roger claimed he had a free pass from his fiancee, we all doubted that and anyway our lips were sealed, quoting the old trope that what happens in Patpong stays in Patpong. Nick and Suki did not join us as they still did not quite approve of us as a group.

No need to go into details except along the way I was introduced to the delights of ben wa balls. For three days I couldn't get enough of the girls that I discovered who use them. It goes to show you are never too old to be educated.

As well as that it was an excellent send off for the group and I imagine highly memorable for all of us. Roger did get to the beach on time and the general debauchery continued there. As far as I know Roger never gave his new wife any unintended diseases, amazing, since he was the worst of us. Thinking back on it I still wonder at their future, knowing Roger, but I was to lose contact after he left. Just another of our group's growing diaspora.

******

And then the breakthrough came. It was while we were in transition moving our base down to Hongkong. We had lost the Chinese technical team so we were in the process of setting up and training a new team.

There was to be an open competition for a massive waterfront project in Wellington, New Zealand. There had been an earthquake that had caused severe liquefaction and the loss of key facilities. The proposed project included both urban development as well as key city amenities. It was to be a public private partnership. The facilities included an outdoor and indoor events centre, national art gallery and a landmark tower encompassing hotel and prestigious office accommodation. It would all be set in a new urban precinct. The brief called for an iconic building that could be viewed from the surrounding hills and be the centre piece of the waterfront. It was to be a recognisable international tourist attraction culturally and uniquely expressive of New Zealand.

Brendon was already interested in backing us if we wanted to go for it. The benefit to him is he wanted a strategic commercial footprint in New Zealand. He had visited New Zealand and saw it a global haven in an unsettled world. Brendon also had a strategy in mind for using New Zealand as a spring board for commercial reach into the US. He already had links there but with the changes in global politics and the breakdown of trade relations between the US and China, he was finding his US interests blocked from expanding. He had in mind using a company based out of New Zealand as a trojan horse to develop his commercial activity in the US. That said, he was cautious about investing in the US but as it was such a large market he could not afford not to.

Brendon was not one to talk about politics but he did tell me he thought the American government was supposed to be democratic and they criticised the Chinese for not being so. He had recently read that the US Government had effectively become a pathocracy and that corruption at the highest level had made them unpredictable and difficult to deal with when making long term plans. He said if nothing else the Chinese Government was predictable. He considered himself a pragmatist so he would work with whomever he could at their own game. For that reason he would keep his companies heads down.

Brendon was anything but a psychopath as he alluded to with respect to the American government, and this was reflected in his approach to business. Yes, he could be hard but he was fair and he treated his senior staff like family. When I first met him he seemed to be impenetrable but once we got to know one another he was surprisingly warm. I had every confidence in him and had no qualms in partnering with him to get back to my home country.

*******

For us to take part in the competition was a chance to dream. It would give us leverage to set up a design hub in our homeland and operate from there rather than Hong Kong. For me personally, winning this competition would achieve what I imagined my life was destined for. But I could not do it alone and even with the resources of Nick and Brendon we would not have the complete team necessary to win. To fill in on the skills needed, Nick and I discussed who we could get to create a grand collab. A group that would cover all the elements. We began to research who we could attract to establish the best team possible. The A team.

Privately I dreamt it might be my opportunity to win back Justine. Yes, my ex-wife who I had not heard from for a year. I was still the dreamer.

At that time another event occurred. The Neo-Boheme exhibition was opening in New York. I was contacted by the organisers as to whether I would be willing to attend. At first I was reticent because of the bad blood from the German opening. But Brendon encouraged me as the publicity would help our cause. I imagined Justine would be there and reconciliation might be more than a possibility, so I accepted and subsequently flew to New York.

Come the reception, I was surprised to find that only Gaspard from the Neo-Boheme turned up. I was profoundly disappointed that Justine was not there. He did not know at the time why she wasn't there, in fact he said he had not seen her for months.

I was treated royally at the event and gave a keynote address at the accompanying symposium. The only embarrassment was that the French ambassador attended and my French was not the greatest. But I was lucky to have Gaspard at my side and it was good that we had remained on friendly terms and to catch up with him. He told me Helene was now history and he was in a permanent relationship with Consuela. He called Helene a bitch who just caused trouble all the time. She had just moved on with some other lover. I asked Gaspard whether he would be interested in joining us again. He was enthusiastic with the idea but would have to consider Consuela.

However, there were a number of Neo-Boheme followers who had come across from Europe and the French had no shortage of philosophical commentators to offer a critique. The movement had also sparked a parallel movement in the states and they attended in force.

The publicity was great and it did reach New Zealand along with my name strategically in advance of the competition. Brendon's publicity machine would have helped with that.

Nick and I continued to discuss what it would take for a winning design team. We had wondered whether we could entice some members of our Bordeaux team. We both knew the talent in that group. I still thought hopefully that might include Justine. I definitely wanted Markel.

Taking advantage of Gaspard attending the New York opening I started negotiations with Gaspard in a video meeting with Nick and Gordon from Hong Kong. Nick brought up Helene, not wanting her inclusion. Gaspard assured him that he was no longer with her and there was no reason to include her in the team.

Then we looked for New Zealand architectural partners. Gordon knew of one practice that would be a strategic fit headed by a Māori Architect who went to the architectural school with us. We also needed landscape and urban design.

To get our core team going Gaspard contacted Markel, and yes, he would be interested. He conferred with Consuela and confirmed that he and Consuela would be glad to come out and join the team.

We set up another tele conference back in Hong Kong to discuss team structure. That teleconference completely ruptured the delusion I was building in my brain. As it was now a real project we were canvassing for the very best talent and skills, I nervously mentioned whether he had been in contact with or heard anything of Justine. Asking if he thought she might be interested in some involvement with the team?"

Gaspard immediately blurted, "Non.. Non, Non, Non. Have you not heard? She got married. I enquired and found out everything. She had a huge wedding at the Chateau de Cassis. She married someone named Philippe Dupont; Helene knew him. He has a chateau in Medoc. None of us were invited to the wedding as we were not part of the aristocracy, merde, they are negociants, they control part of the wine industry in Bordeaux. We would just be something sticky on their boots to them. I think Justine even resigned as professor. She does nothing with us now. This Philippe, he is a... what you say... controlling bastard, that's why she couldn't go to New York. "

"What the fuck!" That was all I could get out. I completely lost concentration. That one sentence shattered everything I knew about Justine. "What about her family, her mother, she was ill?"

"Oh she died, not long after the wedding I don't know anything about the rest of the family."

This tore me apart. I completed the teleconference quickly and I left the room heading for the conveniences. I locked myself in a cubicle and the grief I had held back since the divorce hit me. It was literally worse than when the divorce came through. I realised I had been fooling myself. I broke down and for the first time I cried, really cried. Eventually somebody bashed on the cubicle door asking if I was ok. I wiped my eyes with a bit of bog paper and gingerly stepped out.

It was Nick. He invited me out to a bar. He rang Suki to say he would be late and we spent an evening drinking, and just letting me spill my guts about our relationship. I could not believe it had finally irrevocably ended. I could not believe she had married Philippe. It seemed our relationship was a lie from beginning to end. It must have been Philippe who she was really in love with.

Then she had a massive church wedding. She had never ever suggested having a wedding like that. And in Cassis of all places. It seemed like an act of humiliation to me to do that. I wondered whose idea was to have the wedding there.

I thought of her mother, maybe she was behind this. Perhaps she had been plotting something like this all along. Maybe she had not warmed to me, the duplicitous bitch. It was Philippe she had wanted Justine to marry in the first place. I was just a stand-in, maybe, to force Philippe's hand.

Nick could not believe that Justine would do it. In his opinion something has happened. He pointed out that being a professor was Justine's goal. Why would she give that up? In the end there was no answer for me, I was just going to have to accept it. The wedding just had to be closure for me. There would be no miraculous reconciliation.

I think I went a little mad after that. At first I sunk into a depression. For the first time I really questioned my aspirations as an architect. It became a drag just getting out of bed to go to work. It was not long before they noticed it at work.

It was Nick and Suki who once again came to my rescue. We talked long and hard one evening and it was Nick who suggested that the competition should be my saviour. We speculated on what it would be like to win. That was to be the goal, the only goal. If we didn't get it... well that was an unknown future to be dealt with according to the circumstances at the time.

I thought over and over of what we said that night and the old desire began to return, only this time it was in spades; my madness was channelled in the manic desire to win the competition to the point of obsession. I channelled my anger, my shame and my grief into the competition. I had a phrase I used when people asked how I was going. I would reply "thriving in the face of adversity." And I was. I no longer had free time and I spent all my waking time obsessively working to win. Thrive I would. My old adage returned, when the going gets tough the tough get going. I was on my way, I was tough.

*******

The competition for the waterfront development in Wellington, New Zealand was a big chance for me to make a global architectural name for myself. Having just learnt that my ex-wife had just got married to who I now considered had been her first love had unexpectedly hit me emotionally. I suppose I had bottled it all up but now it was irrevocably clear that my life with her was now over.

The competition could not have come at a better time. It was to be an all consuming distraction at a time when I had slipped into depression. It seemed that marriage and family would pass me by but this was a chance to put my mark on the world. To give meaning to my life. So I did not hold back

The team and I first had to register our interest demonstrating how we could both design and deliver the project within the designated budget and programme. With Brendon's resources we elected to use a collaborative model, integrated project delivery, incorporating a contractor with an international reputation of delivering parametrically designed buildings. I also sourced the major collaborative Maori design partner Mana Totara headed by a husband and wife team of Henare and Oriwia Cooper. With them we were able to demonstrate our ability to deliver a culturally acceptable solution. In fact, to establish a working relationship in advance, we collaborated on a small project as a design exercise on a project we had in hand.

In our registration document we showcased a raft of buildings I had designed alongside Brendon's team who brought an impressive scale of projects to the mix. Unfortunately we could not use the shanghai tower because of the commercial terms under which we worked but we were able to discuss it when it came to our live presentation to the judging panel.

As part of our presentation we had to demonstrate how to work with the client groups' own independent experts in turning the brief into a concept. To show our capability we included a video of Justine and I working on a giant touch board as we did in France. I had reluctantly agreed to this for obvious personal reasons. Between my ambidextrous manipulation and the interaction with Justine it drew gasps from the panel and they were fascinated with it. A monitor that was placed beside the touch screen in the video showed in real time adjustments to the theoretical budget with each adjustment. This also impressed the panel.

For me it was another stake in the heart of watching how easily Justine and I had worked together on screen. I am sure her smile, especially the one she gave me in the performance would have captivated the panel. As I watched us working together I froze and Nick had to shake my shoulder to continue with my verbal description of what was happening. But despite my feelings on it the presentation paid off. Was the ghost of Justine still haunting me or was she the angel still looking over me?

Our commercial and financial management was important to them and the integrated project delivery proposal went down well. But it was outside the brief. They advised they would consider it but only if we won and that would be part of our commissioning negotiation.

As well as demonstrating Architectural engineering. and construction abilities we had to respond to our approach to sustainability, gender and cultural sensitivity. Our presenters were Nick, me. Oriwia and Suki so the optics of our group and the content of our presentation covered it all.

This lead up to this presentation was something akin to a sports team leading up to a final. We had a psychologist and a public relations specialist working for us. We rehearsed the presentation several times, refining our approach. We had researched the judges and had some idea of their prejudices and hot buttons. The lead up was tense and it would be at least a month before we heard whether we had been shortlisted. After the presentation we retired to a pub to decompress.

Nick asked me if I was OK with the video. Even though we had rehearsed it, somehow seeing it in front of the panel dredged up subliminal hurt, though it was years old it was still the best illustration of how we worked and the public relations expert was struck with the chemistry between Justine and I.

*****

Glory glory! We were easily short listed and we were issued a request for a conceptual proposal. If the lead up to the registration was tense the lead up to this would be equivalent to the All Blacks leading up to the world cup final.

For me it was a deeply emotional need. I needed self respect. In a way I was doing it for Justine. She would talk about my potential and how I needed to step away from those architects who used my talents for their own self aggrandisement. In my mind, I thought I had failed Justine and maybe this would be my way of saying "I told you so.' It would be my life achievement in spite of her loss.

Oh look upon me and despair, Justine!

With so much riding on the win I could not allow myself to even imagine what might happen if we did not get the commission.

Brendon Chan, our backer and partner also had a lot riding on this. He was taking a huge gamble with us. While we were consumed with the competition, our other activity in Hong Kong was put to one side. We were also using a good chunk of the technical staff.

For Brendon this was his opportunity to get a foothold in New Zealand and if he could expand his business activity there it would be his opportunity to reenter the US market from where he had been blocked.

Being shortlisted we were asked to produce a conceptual plan. The brief called for a physical as well as an electronic total immersion model. The rationale was to demonstrate the buildability. Because of the intricate geometries that could be developed with parametric designed building such a model would require time and a large model building team assembling individual 3D printed elements and putting them together like a giant 3_D jig saw. Fortunately again with Brendon's help we could do this using a Chinese robotic system. This enabled us to deliver in the tight time frame demanded.

Taking a punt, Brendon decided to advance the idea of an integrated team to deliver the project and he enlisted a top US expert in integrated project delivery, Shelford Brown, to be the potential project lead. He arrived as a consultant to observe and advise our team in action.

Our international team initially travelled to New Zealand to meet the locals and assemble the whole team to undertake our project due diligence, examine the site and the geotechnical data, and analyse the local context and attendant parameters.

The cultural requirements were a challenge as it required both a high level of commercial and political sensitivity to navigate through. We negotiated this with the host tribal group. This was the home tribe in central Wellington. Rather than trying to please Maori in general their role as host, the 'tangata whenua, ' people of the land would simplify our approach.

Bringing together the old team, Markel, Gaspard and Consuela, was also a blast and it was great to work as a team once again. They would form the central design group along with Oriwia. Gaspard had not changed a bit. Markel no longer looked like some vintage revolutionary and Consuela was as quirky as ever.

The expanded team including reps from our wider collaborative team were then brought to Hong Kong where our electronic atelier was set up under the auspices of Brendon Chan. We undertook a series of workshops using Nick and my methodology then completed the design using electronic comms with the core concept team based in Hong Kong.

After the initial workshops there was a scramble to move the atelier to New Zealand. This fitted Brendon Chan's strategic move of setting up his satellite property office in New Zealand. We set up our group design practice as a separate company from Brendon's property company although Brendon maintained a 40 percent shareholding.

Win or lose the competition Brendon would use the competition and the industry network it brought to advance his business. He would be there for the long haul. As our design group worked on the final competition entry he started the process of investing in developments. As our practice was directly employed by him as this gave us a cash flow alongside the time and resources being put into the final design.

The process of construction of the model went ahead with hardly a hitch. It was the single greatest financial investment in the submission. The design was intricate and kinetic to respond to the movement of the sun, the wind and the night. Embedded in it was my memory of George and the Dragon in Gaudi's Casa Battlo in Barcelona, only this time it was the mighty monsters, the local metaphorical taniwhas, Ngake and Whaitaitai and Whaitaitai's transformation to a bird. In every respect it was a parametric design, there would be no other way of designing and constructing it and the model showed it was feasible

The lead up was even more stressful than before. Again we used the same psychologist and public relations expert. At Gaspard's suggestion we brought in the Neo-Boheme French philosopher Pascal Lapeyre. Brendon and I were initially resistant, Brendon, because he simply did not see the point, me, because I did not want an ideological split in the team.

In Gaspard's mind he saw this as a Neo-Boheme project but he had obviously had long discussions with Oriwia and they had found some synchronicity so I finally acquiesced. Pascal was to ensure that we proceed along the lines of the manifesto and retained the philosophical aims. The risk of a split over this was huge for me as there was no plan B if Gaspard walked away. It led to a fascinating discourse with the Maori members of the team. Although the language was different there was remarkable unanimity in their mutual principals. Gaspard had already seen it and was triumphant that it would be intrinsic to the project.

Put simply the Neo-Bohemes had sought to delink precepts in contemporary philosophical thought that do not concur with nature. They concurred with the Māori metaphorical template they put on relationships with the natural world and its order. There are three key concepts they agreed on. One was connectivity in that all living and non-living things are linked, functioning as an interconnected network rather than hierarchical.

The second was guardianship. No one owns property or anything pertaining to the natural world. Humans are simply caretakers ensuring environmental stewardship and sustainable reciprocity.

Finally they concurred that there was a life force or energy inherent in all physical and spiritual entities that is required to be protected. The Maori called this Mauri. The Neo-Bohemes being atheistic took this as the energy of the unknown. Not god but representing the affect that the unknown has in all thought and consequential actions.

Of course, for the Maori their philosophy has its roots in their very being, but for the Neo- Boheme they were breaking away from their own traditional philosophical roots but none-the-less they saw the synchronicity in both philosophies and for the purposes of the success of the project there was enough for them to claim it as a manifestation of both views of the universe.

I realised the Maori were in their place philosophically. With their metaphorical relationships to the land, the sea, the trees, animals and the stars, they were comfortably aligned with the natural order of the universe. Gaspard recognised it as what the Neo-Bohemes set out to achieve. There would be no division in our ranks.

We never put all this forward publicly. I saw the beliefs inherent in these philosophies, as a reflection of universal truths. Any allusion to Bordeaux Neo-Bohemism, te ao Maori or even Catalan modernisme were of academic interest only. This structure would be reflective of the complexity of the city's inhabitants no matter their ethnic origins, be it China, Japan or India.

I therefore called it. It would be of the physical and cultural context. The design would metaphorically represent a living landform, and the stories entrained in it would not only represent its functions but would be a projection of the land around it and the cultural and ancestral stories the land holds. "The place" would rule.

*****

Following the rehearsal retreats, design reworks and interminable tinkering, I nearly drove everyone mad with my quest of absolute perfection in every detail. For me it was do or die. Nick and Suki saw it and worried but I brushed them off. It is fair to say it was my all consuming obsession.

Finally the documents and the model were submitted and the presentation prepared for.

When we entered the downtown high rise on the day of the presentation, it could have been the all blacks running onto the field for the final of the Rugby World Cup.. All that was missing was the pre-game haka. I wasn't the only one thinking that, when on leaving after the representation, the Maori members broke into a spontaneous haka in the foyer and I joined them. The urge came as a great rush of relief. We could do nothing more. The haka was also, I think, a sign of confidence. We had given our absolute all. The panel had been engaged and seemed impressed. We could dare to dream. The commotion caused several people to come out and watch, including the judging panel.... Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka ora! Ka ora!......( I die I die, I live I live).

We were now faced with the agonizing wait while independent consultants pawed over our documents and Quantity Surveyors validated our costings. As we could do no more; it was now in the hands of people we had little knowledge of, who had their own politics and prejudices. All we could do was sit and dream.

**********

And we won!

Our solution was described as audacious and involved a spectacular parametric design that reflected the land and culture of Aotearoa New Zealand. It aimed to produce an iconic form rising out of the waterfront that would be recognised globally as belonging to the place and was recognised by the panel.

The only negative comment was that a couple of the judges were intimidated by the weight of technology and there were several follow up questions that were put to us during the evaluation.

We soon learnt that we had an important ally in the Prime Minister. He was a driving force to get the competition going and was extremely enthusiastic and effusive about our design. Of course that made our design political and the opposition could not find anything good about it. But since it was the major development to kick start city development after a devastating earthquake their opposition was muted. They did make an issue of the cost however but that old political ploy was to be expected and was shut down at this early stage..

On acceptance we were made the preferred scheme and negotiations started. This was one area that was not my forte. Despite a good head for figures, business was something that I believed stunted my creativity. While I was not remotely interested, Nick took to it like a tui to kowhai flowers, and seemed to become one intoxicated bird about it all. He worked closely with Brendon and Sheldon but liaised with me through the whole process. Nick had studied remotely for a dodgy MBA between Suki and our work commitments in Shanghai. This took Nick's talents to a new level and paid dividends protecting our interests as he wrangled with lawyers and bankers while the negotiations took shape. In the end Brendon and Sheldon with Nicks help thrashed out a project design and delivery approach that suited all of us with the intended client.

On agreement the documentations were signed and sealed, the public announcements made and the celebration started. It was already 6 months down the track by the time we were setting up the office on the ground. Typically for Brendon he hired a Michelin star restaurant for the night for the celebration. The guest list included the client group, members of our wider collaborative team, financiers and a bevy of local politicians and movers and shakers. Brendon's property group had already set up on a floor of a high rise. I had only just flown in from working between projects in Hong Kong and Singapore. As well as the celebration I was here with Nick to inspect our intended workspace on the floor below Brendon's property group. Brendon 's group would contain the top management of the integrated group. Our floor would be the design team. We had the option to take further floors as needed. The design arm became NZ Pacific Integrated design group, generally referred to as IDG.

It was the night of the celebration that I first met Katelyn. She was young, blonde, beautiful and curvaceous. At first meeting she seemed the antithesis of Justine but I was to discover that she had the same steely determination and added to that insane ambition.

She had just started as a young graduate in Brendon Chan's office. She had a dual degree in Architecture and project management. Brendon Chan had a reputation for recruiting only the most talented and he identified the star of the year's graduates offering an income that a fresh graduate could only dream of.

In the hubbub of the conviviality of a celebratory get-together, a fleeting meeting with a very young attractive graduate seemed inconsequential. In the parade of congratulatory faces that passed before me that evening there was no hint to how profound this one face would become in my life. But that story was one that was yet to come.

*******