by T A Williams
She saw the driver’s door open and then David’s feet emerge. With a practised manoeuvre, he caught hold of the side of the windscreen and hauled himself to his feet. Resting with one hand on the roof, he shuffled round until he was facing the car and then looked across at her. Jess did her best to analyse his expression. After a struggle, she plumped for sheepish, and it turned out she was right.
‘Hello, Jess. Could you come over here a moment, please?’
His tone was anything but confrontational. Jess walked across and saw him make his way gingerly, steadying himself against the canvas roof, but without the aid of his crutches, until he was at the rear of the car. He opened the boot and reached inside.
‘These are for you, Jess. I owe you an apology.’
Carefully, he lifted a massive bouquet of flowers wrapped in clear cellophane from the floor of the boot and held them out towards her.
‘I would have been back sooner, but both florists here were closed. Must be because it’s a Monday morning. So I had to drive round to Ste-Maxime.’
‘David… there’s no need.’ Jess was genuinely touched – not least because he must have had an hour and a half’s drive just to get the flowers.
‘There’s every need. I behaved atrociously, and I do hope you’ll forgive me.’
‘There’s nothing to forgive, David. Really, you shouldn’t have.’
She took the flowers from him and, for an instant, their fingers touched. She looked up and saw his clear blue eyes looking intently at her. A particularly large raindrop landed on her cheek and she felt it run down her face, but she resisted the urge to wipe it away.
‘Jess, I’m very, very sorry. It was frustration, sheer blind frustration. I don’t know if you can imagine how absolutely infuriating it is for me to find myself in this state. From time to time it gets the better of me and, like I say, I’m just very sorry that you were on the end of that particular outburst.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘I felt like an absolute worm afterwards. If it helps, I hardly slept a wink last night as a result.’
‘Neither did I, David.’ She saw what might have been surprise in his eyes. ‘Not because I was angry with you, but because I could feel your unhappiness.’ Now it was her turn to stare into his eyes. ‘I’d like to help, David, any way I can.’
‘Thanks, Jess. You already are – more than you realise – just by being here.’
Another raindrop landed on her cheek and she was secretly pleased. She was as close to tears as she had ever been in her life and she didn’t want him to think he was to blame. Of course he was the reason her eyes were welling up, but not because of anything bad he had done. She dropped her eyes to the bouquet so he wouldn’t see the emotion on her face.
‘That’s the very best thing I’ve heard since I arrived here, David.’
‘Thank you.’ There was another pause. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’
Jess was readying herself to reach out towards him with her hands, arms and maybe even her lips, when she saw him turn and make his way back along the side of the car once more. Rubbing a hand surreptitiously across her eyes, she followed him. He reached into the car and removed his crutches. He didn’t ask for help and she didn’t offer.
‘Again, Jess, please forgive me.’
‘You are forgiven.’
Chapter 17
As Jess walked back through the walled garden towards home, she felt her heart soar. The fact that David had taken the trouble to go out and buy her the flowers was great, but his obvious contrition and, above all, the fact that he had been able to talk to her, albeit briefly, about his feelings had left her in absolutely no doubt about one thing. There was no way she wanted to go off back to Britain and leave him now.
This left the problem of Hope. If she remained heartbroken and convinced that all she wanted was to get away from Max, then Jess felt pretty sure nothing she could say would stop her friend from making tracks for home sooner rather than later. She wanted Hope to be happy and somehow felt sure she would be happier here than back in London all alone. As Jess reached the little pergola in the middle of the ornamental garden, she glanced down at the flowers in her arms and had an idea. She hesitated, mulled it over, and then decided to take a chance. She set the bouquet down on the wooden bench – almost hidden by the mass of bougainvillea and clematis that was running wild across the structure – and left it there, heading through the little door and back to the guest house.
Jess found Hope sitting at the kitchen table, staring glumly at her phone. As Jess came in, she looked up and attempted a little smile.
‘How did it go with the plans?’
‘George liked them. And it sounds as if he’s got tradesmen lined up to do the work.’
‘So are you going to stay on and supervise?’
‘I don’t know.’ Not for the first time in her life, Jess was glad she hadn’t been born Pinocchio. Affecting a change of subject, she glanced out of the French windows into the courtyard. ‘The rain’s stopped. Any of that chicken left from last night? Fancy another barbecue?’
Hope took a bit of persuading but, finally, she agreed, and went out to light the barbecue. As Jess had hoped, she left her phone on the kitchen table. It was the work of a few seconds to pick it up, check through, and copy down Max’s phone number. Replacing the phone on the table, Jess called out into the courtyard.
‘I’ll just take Brutus for a quick walk. Back in ten minutes.’
She and the Labrador hurried out, round the side of the villa, and down to the beach. Brutus wasted no time in splashing into the water while Jess wasted no time in calling Max’s number.
‘Yes, hello.’ His voice sounded unusually subdued and Jess took this as a good sign.
‘Max? It’s Jess.’
‘Jess… thank goodness. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Hope ever since yesterday and she’s not taking my calls.’
‘Do you blame her, Max?’
‘I know…’ He sounded totally deflated. ‘I’m a stupid bastard.’
‘Her feelings exactly. And mine. She feels absolutely betrayed, Max.’ She hesitated, needing to be sure of just how he felt. ‘You have no idea of how much you’ve hurt her.’
‘Oh, God, Jess, I know. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I had to go and screw it up.’
‘So, you’re regretting the whole “I’m a millionaire, I’ve got a yacht” thing now?’
As she said it, Jess realised that somehow Max’s actions were even more despicable than Drugoi’s. At least the Russian hadn’t been pretending to be something he wasn’t.
‘Yes, of course. I’m not proud of what I did, Jess, but the thing is, I really, really like her. I was so immediately attracted to her when I saw her, I knew I had to do anything just so as to get her. And that included lying to her. The more serious it’s become between me and her – and it really is serious, at least as far as I’m concerned – the worse I knew the consequences would be if she found out, so I put off saying anything.’
‘But you had to know, deep down, that sooner or later she would find out.’
‘And now she has.’ She heard a catch in his voice and took that as an even better sign. ‘Is that it, Jess? Is that what you’re phoning to say? Is it all over between us?’
Jess paused for thought. At that moment Brutus appeared with a piece of driftwood in his mouth and Jess picked it up and threw it back into the water for him. As she watched the dog paddle strongly out towards the open sea, she reached a decision.
‘Listen, Max. Hope has no idea I’m making this call. She’s my very best friend and I hate to see her hurting. And I would really hate it – and you – if she got hurt any more. Tell me, honestly, have you any idea how broken up she’s feeling right now?’
‘Yes, if it’s anything like I feel, it must be awful for her. I’ve never felt so bad before. I really, really regret what I did.’
‘So you’re telling me you feel really bad, that you regret what’s happened?’
<
br /> ‘Totally, Jess. I’d do anything to get her back.’
‘And when you say “get her back”, you’re not just talking about some sort of causal short-term hook-up?’
‘Jess, if I told you I think I’ve fallen in love with her, would that satisfy you?’
‘It might, but Hope’s the one you’ve got to tell that to.’
‘That’s what I’ve been trying to do, but she won’t answer. Jess, could you help? Speak to her? Maybe ask if she might be prepared to see me?’
‘I’ll speak to her, Max.’ She heard his intake of breath. ‘I think a meeting between the two of you on neutral turf might be the answer.’ She paused, searching for a suitable venue. ‘Do you know Senequier?’
‘The café on the quayside? Yes, everybody knows that place.’
‘Unless you hear from me to the contrary, could you be there today at, say, three?’
‘Of course, any time.’
‘Then I’ll do my best to set it up, but Max…’
‘… I know, Jess. Don’t screw it up. Tell her everything. And I will, I promise.’
‘That’s good. That’s what’s needed. Now, listen. I’m going to give you a hand – but you’d better not disappoint me. You’ve just sent her a big bouquet of flowers.’
‘I have?’ He sounded bemused.
‘Yes, they’ve just arrived. Don’t ask… all right?’
‘Um… all right.’
‘And, Max, when you see her, tell her what you’ve told me. All right? And remember, if she gets hurt again, the next bunch of Chechen gangsters on your boat will be out for your blood. Understood?’
‘Understood, and, Jess, thank you. Thank you so much. You can’t imagine how grateful I am to you for what you’re doing. I promise you won’t be disappointed in me.’
Jess called Brutus, managed to avoid getting soaked as he shook himself, and together they walked back to the house. Glancing up, Jess saw a patch of blue sky appearing and took this as yet another good sign. Maybe the universe was back on her side. And Hope’s.
Retrieving the bouquet, Jess checked to see that David hadn’t included a note and then carried the flowers back to the house. Brutus’s nose told him Hope was outside by the barbecue and Jess followed him into the courtyard.
‘Here, Hope. Take a look at these.’
Jess saw Hope’s eyes widen as she saw the bouquet. Unmistakably, the expression on her face was one of yearning.
‘Wow, what an amazing bouquet!’
Jess took a good look at her friend, surreptitiously crossed the fingers of one hand, and took a deep breath.
‘Yes. They’ve just arrived. They’re for you.’
‘For me?’ The yearning was more obvious now, and alongside it was delight.
Jess passed the bouquet across to her.
‘There’s no note, but the guy who brought them gave Antoinette a message. He asked if you could meet him at Senequier at three o’clock.’
‘The café on the quayside?’
‘That’s right.’
‘And who was the guy who brought the flowers?’
‘Antoinette didn’t recognise him, but I think we both know, don’t we?’
‘Max was here?’
‘That’s what it sounds like. So, are you going to meet him?’
‘I don’t know, Jess.’ Hope was staring at the flowers, which were gorgeous, and had no doubt cost a fortune. ‘What would you do?’
Jess did her best to look inscrutable. ‘I don’t think you’ve got anything to lose by meeting him. At worst, it’ll give you an opportunity to slap his face.’
‘And if I were to decide to stay here for the rest of the summer, after all, what about you? After what David said to you yesterday, weren’t you thinking of leaving?’
‘Things have moved on a bit. I’ve just seen David. He said he was sorry, and I believe him.’
‘So you wouldn’t mind staying on?’
‘Not in the slightest.’
* * *
Jess walked into St-Tropez with Hope. By this time the sun had come out again and the ground was already drying out fast as the temperature rose steadily. As they walked round the coast path, as ever passing the ruined farmhouse, Jess breathed in the fresh perfume of the flowers and wild herbs – their scent revitalised by the rain – and found herself smiling. She looked out to sea and saw that, magically, a flotilla of yachts with white sails had appeared in the blue waters of the gulf. Across on the far side, Ste-Maxime and the wooded hills beyond were clearer than they had ever been. It had turned into a delightful day and Jess hoped things would continue to improve – and not just as far as the weather was concerned.
When they got to the harbour, Jess led Hope along the waterfront to the red awnings of Senequier and left her there. This was the best-known café in St-Tropez, famous as a meeting place for celebrities from all over the world. Max was going to find the drinks expensive there, but Jess reckoned that paying for a few pricey cups of tea was the least he could do after the grief he had inflicted on Hope. Jess herself set out for a stroll around the town, determined to visit the old citadel, although she knew this would involve quite a steep climb, and the temperature felt as if it was rising by the minute.
She walked up through the narrow streets, seeking out the shade wherever possible, until she saw the bulk of the old citadel, its sheer stone walls rising up into the now almost completely cloud-free blue sky. Huge cactus plants and tall palm trees gave the place a North African feel, and she could almost imagine soldiers of the Foreign Legion leaning out of the gun slits or pointing rifles down at her from the battlements. She bought a ticket and walked in through the arched entrance with its massive wooden gates. The path climbed steadily, passing through more gates, until she reached the main fortress itself. This handsome white stone building sat inside what had maybe once been a moat – now grass – and it had clearly been designed to be impregnable. High on the ramparts, the flags of France, Europe and the red and white flag of St-Tropez flew proudly in the breeze.
She took some photos of the castle before turning her attention to the view down over the town and the gulf. The roofs of St-Tropez itself were predominantly weathered terracotta, the faded pink mixed with an orangey-ochre, and the deep blue of the sea beyond really stood out clearly in contrast. Peeking up amidst the roofs, the iconic church with its square pink tower – capped by a yellow cupola – was unmistakable, with the harbour and breakwater directly behind it. Jess thought she could just about distinguish the Helios down there and she spared a thought, and a prayer, for Hope’s meeting with Max.
Finally, she walked across the bridge into the fortress itself – and there she got a surprise. A group of university students were huddled in the shade on one side of the quadrangle while their teacher told them all about the place. To Jess’s delight, the teacher was Olivier. She settled back against the wall, out of his sight so as not to put him off, and did her best to follow his lecture.
In fact, she understood disappointingly little of what he said. Although her French comprehension was improving by the day, she really wasn’t up to following academic language, although she did manage to work out that over the four centuries since it had been built, the citadel had protected the town from aggressors – notably the Spanish and the English. She reflected that nowadays the restaurateurs and bar owners were wreaking their revenge for past aggression with their prices, particularly down on the waterfront. Once again this made Jess think of Hope and Max and she crossed her fingers that they would sort themselves out.
After a quarter of an hour or so, Olivier finished his lecture and the students began to get up and head off in little groups, presumably investigating what they had learned. Seeing him on his own, Jess went across and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
‘Bonjour, Monsieur le professeur.’
His face broke into a smile.
‘Hi, Jess. Don’t tell me you’ve been listening to my talk.’
‘Listening, yes. Understan
ding, no. At least, not much. I did get the bit about the nasty English being the enemy, though.’
‘Ah yes, perfidious Albion. But that all died out years ago.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Well, I’ve finished for the afternoon. I’m having dinner with my parents tonight before driving back to Aix, but why don’t I buy you an ice cream this afternoon?’
‘That sounds like a lovely idea, but I’m going to buy you the ice cream. It’s my turn and it’s the least I can do.’
Back down the hill again, he led her to an ice cream shop on the quayside. He told her it was the best ice cream shop in the town – maybe the whole country. It was packed out with people buying all manner of ice creams with flavours ranging from strawberry to bubble-gum and liquorice. Jess decided to opt for a decadent mixture of white chocolate and salted caramel, while Olivier chose lemon tart and yoghurt flavour. They took the tubs and two bottles of ice-cold water across to the edge of the quay and sat on the warm slabs, dangling their legs over the edge, listening to the gentle slap of the water against the stone wall. The sun was warm, the air clear, and the atmosphere relaxed. Jess stretched and breathed deeply.
‘Going back to London after this is going to be really tough.’
‘So, don’t go back.’ Olivier gave her a grin. ‘Stay here forever.’
Jess grinned back. It was a wonderful, if impossible, dream.
‘One minor problem, Olivier, what do I live on? At the moment I’m living rent free in a wonderful place, but that won’t last forever. And when that finishes, where do I live and what do I do?’
He shook his head sadly.
‘You’re right, of course. St-Trop is a very expensive place to live in.’ He gestured back over his shoulder. ‘You can bet your life the vast majority of the people working in the ice cream shop, or any of the shops, can’t afford to live here. They probably live across the bay and commute every day by ferry, or live further inland and travel to and fro by bus or scooter.’