I am the perfect lady’s companion on holiday – just ask my husband
Can I let you into a secret? Not all superheroes wear capes. We also wear little strappy sundresses, flowing linens in expensive shades of cream and cinnamon, and, should the occasion demand it, a wetsuit.
Heels? Obviously, with conversation-starter earrings in case we’re dining at the captain’s table. Although without wishing to boast, I can start a conversation even without the aid of Butler & Wilson bling.
Why? Because I am the perfect holiday chum; amiable, engaged and so (so) much more obliging than I am at home.
Up early for the 6am Vatican tour? Lovely! Shopping in Les Galleries Lafayette? That stuffed frog museum in Split? Yellow fever jabs for a river boat down the Amazon? I can think of nothing better!
I’m off to the South of France next week with a friend and I fully expect to astonish her with my unique balance of easy-going relaxation and peppy (but crucially, not too peppy) enthusiasm.
This after a New Forest weekend break earlier in the month with another entirely satisfied chum who is more than happy to provide a reference as to my buoyant spirits and impeccable taste in Coop wine (the organic Albari?o is excellent).
My husband also agrees wholeheartedly: I am such an incontrovertibly personable traveller that it would be selfish to keep me all to himself. At least I think that’s why he is so visibly pleased to stay at home. Really rather noble, when you think about it.
What can I say? I strongly suspect in my previous life I was a lady’s companion – and frankly it’s a calling I’d very much like to revive.
From Vanity Fair to Rebecca, Little Women to The French Lieutenant’s Woman, ladies’ companions have occupied a unique place in literature as well as life. They propel the narrative as much as they also provide a bridge partner.
I say calling, rather than profession, because their position was not one of an employee; they weren’t treated like servants, but more as (not quite) equals who ate with the family and slept in the family’s part of the house. They would not carry out any domestic duties that the lady herself would not undertake.
To underline her singular status, a lady’s companion would receive an “allowance” rather than wages. How great does that sound?
Fast forward to the 21st century and I’m visualising a ritzy lifestyle somewhere between the ultra high net worth passengers on Below Deck cruising the Med and a junior suite (I know my place) at Raffles Singapore to recover.
Martha’s Vineyard, French Polynesia. Whale watching off South Africa? I’ll fetch the coffee if I must and although I’m a lark rather than an owl, I promise not to trill before you’ve had your first cup of Da Hong Pao tea. Just putting it out there.
Do let me know, Dear Readers if you’d like me to join you. No need for sealed bids, just an offer I can’t refuse will do nicely – although for the removal of any doubt, the role is lady’s companion rather than gentleman’s relish.
