by Janey Lewis
Alain was pleased that Yves had arrived to take Deirdre’s mind off the loss of her beloved dog, but also that she seemed to take it as right that the dog who had helped her though those lonely years should go now that Alain had returned. He still couldn’t believe his luck that his beautiful ex-wife had taken him back to where he had always belonged, and was kicking himself that he had let pride get in the way once he realised his ghastly mistake.
They were searched and scolded by security when Alain was discovered trying to take a pile of cream-laden cardamom lemon buns, his baptism gift, through in his hand luggage. Thankfully, one of the top security chiefs was a major foodie, recognised Alain and, on hearing it was for such an important celebration, allowed them to board, but only after trying one and pronouncing it free of explosives!
‘If I ever save enough money to bring my wife to your restaurant, I hope you remember me!’ he said. At which Alain scribbled a note and said, ‘Use it quickly. I’m closing down in the autumn!’ He had given the bemused, work-weary man a voucher for a tasting menu and suite for the night for two people.
‘Two freebies in as many nights! Daddy, you are losing your head.’ Liberty was finding her father’s volte-face rather endearing, if a little odd. She would never have believed he would choose to leave his restaurant unless in a coffin; now he seemed unable to leave Deirdre’s side.
‘Ah, but darling, love makes you happy, and what else is there, really, in the world?’
They sat in the lounge, drinking champagne, waiting for their flight to be called. As they chatted happily, Liberty told Edmund all about the fabulous place that Paloma called home, and how she had come to be there. ‘So she has never caved in and told you who Claude’s father is?’ Edmund sounded sceptical, whispering to Liberty that there had to be a reason. Liberty didn’t care; she was thrilled to be returning to the warmth and excitement of the Riviera and to meet Yves. She had always felt like an older sister to Claude, and now she was an aunt and a godmother!
The flight was short and on time. Edmund helped Liberty with her bag and then went off to arrange the car while Alain and Deirdre waited for their luggage. Deirdre had packed so many presents that they had three suitcases for as many days.
‘It is such a lovely time to be on the Riviera,’ said Deirdre as they sped in their hire car towards St Tropez. ‘Like the perfect English summer’s day.’ The road was almost empty of traffic, so they made fast progress. Edmund confidently covered the miles, Liberty at his side pointing out road-side stalls, pretty houses and dead cats, while they tried to ignore the cuddled-up love birds in the back. They were reminiscing about their time in St Tropez when they helped Paloma set up on her own. ‘She was such a bad cook that one sample of her food and Alain said nothing was to be done, she had to hire a chef!’ recalled Deirdre, laughing. ‘But she is so entertaining that as front of house she established a reputation that has kept her going. Chefs are banging at the door, eager to work there, and customers are queuing summer after summer.’
Liberty added that the remarkable setting helped, but she couldn’t imagine the place without Paloma. However, as they roared up the gravel drive through the wrought-iron gates, always open and completely grown over by the creepers that covered the wall surrounding the property, it was Jonathan who was standing on the steps waiting to greet them, looking as though he had always lived in the south of France. His face was smoothed by love, sea air and lack of responsibility, and he wore a cream linen suit with a pale blue shirt, emphasising his blue eyes, and loafers on his feet with no socks.
‘Pa, you’ve gone native,’ said Edmund, as he hugged his father affectionately.
‘Come through and meet the star of the show. He’s just woken and Evangeline is feeding him on the terrace.’ Jonathan seemed very excitable, unable to stand still, and he almost dragged Edmund along, reluctantly waiting while Edmund insisted on helping Liberty.
They walked round the side of the building as they didn’t wish to disturb the diners inside. Edmund gasped, Liberty screamed and Deirdre and Alain hugged each other. For sitting alongside the happy mother and babe were Savannah and Khalid, holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes. The children were running around Antoine the gardener’s feet and playing tag. Savannah dragged her eyes away from Khalid’s, and stood to hug them, and then they all cooed over baby Yves, who, in typical Gallic fashion, was enjoying a good lunch. Evangeline and Claude looked tired, but deliriously happy. It was an idyllic scene. Khalid called the children over, saying it was time for their meal, and he whispered to Savannah she had best fill everyone in on her own while he took the kids inside.
Liberty, waiting impatiently for all the details, picked up a proffered Campari soda and sat next to her old friend.
‘Please say this means we can see each other often again! What on earth happened?’
‘It’s all Pa’s doing, really,’ explained Savannah. ‘When Khalid left at Christmas, I thought he was taking the children and refusing to let them be influenced by the Western lifestyle. I think I had read too many novels and disastrous press reports, and after all my other relationships had ended so badly, I suppose I imagined this one would too. If only I had talked things over with Khalid, I would have realised it was the other way round. Apparently, he was terrified I wanted to stay in the UK without him, after Christmas. He got in a terrible jealous rage at the party, and thought the only way to hold on to me was to take the children and lure me back, but the whole time he had been planning a different scheme. Realising that life in Abu Dhabi wasn’t best suited to me, he had bought a house in Paris, a vast three-storey apartment in the 13th Arrondissement. Gray had been keeping an eye on it, thinking it was for some illicit scheme, but only saw his interior decorator coming and going.
‘Khalid thought we could live happily in Paris. He would be able to fly direct to the UAE when he needed, but could conduct most of his business from an office in the apartment, and I could jump on the Eurostar to come home whenever I liked. He booked schools for the children, but when we got all muddled at Christmas he wasn’t sure if I would agree even to that, so he didn’t mention it at all!
‘Pa found out about the house purchase when he and Paloma were in Paris by talking to the concierge, so he phoned Khalid to ask what was going on, which prompted Khalid to break down, tell me how much he didn’t want to lose me and could I possibly bear to live out my years in Paris, if he also bought a home on the Riviera for holidays? How could I refuse him?’
They all roared with laughter at the absurdity of Savannah even considering for a moment the idea of refusing such an offer.
‘I realised how much I love him,’ she continued. ‘I just had got it into my head that he must be a beast because those are the only types I’ve been with before! It’s all rather lovely, really. It’s like a whole new beginning, and I can’t tell you how happy I am – no, we are! He’s allowing me to go to some fabulous antique fair next month to buy furniture, but he has employed Nicky Haslam’s team to do the house to make it look like an old English home. How sweet is that?’ She then followed up with, ‘Well, I could hardly employ J-T after his thing with Gray,’ misinterpreting Liberty’s look of incredulity.
Liberty gazed at her friend, who had softened somehow, as though acknowledging she was loved had made her relax and be able to love herself. Her eyes glowed and her cheeks seemed fuller and so did her tummy . . . Noticing her friend’s glance, Savvie shrieked ‘Oh, and I’m pregnant again!’ to anyone who wanted to hear. Which they all did, of course.
Khalid poked his head out of an upstairs window. ‘We were going to tell everyone together!’ He sounded frustrated, but was laughing. ‘It seems you have told the whole of France, you loud-mouthed lovely.’
‘Goodness me, it must be catching,’ said Claude. ‘Congratulations to you both.’ Khalid waved and shouted that he would be right down.
After chatting for a while longer, the group was catching up with news. Edmund looked like a startled rabbit when Jo
nathan asked how Denhelm was getting on without him ‘Oh, you know, Pa,’ he said, trying to make a joke of it. ‘All collapsing without its captain!’
Sensing his discomfort, Liberty called over that she should show him around, and took him off to be introduced to Antoine, her gardener tutor. ‘Thank you,’ said Edmund huskily, when they were out of earshot. ‘I don’t think this time of joy is the correct moment to share with my father that I’m sinking his prize ship.’
Liberty took his arm. ‘You have only been at the helm for a few weeks. He had it for years. He also took it over at a time when he was engulfed in inheritance tax, the land was haemorrhaging money and the Labour government was doing its best to destroy the upper classes. He had nothing to lose; you, on the other hand, have taken over the finished article. It was much easier to start with nothing than to start with everything and every expectation. Give yourself time; remember, you have already started and run a very successful company of your own.’ She had done some research into ECOCapital and discovered that, despite many misgivings from larger venture capitalists, Edmund had raised vast amounts of capital and enabled many new ecological ventures to start up. With his clever eye for channelling good ideas, most of them were succeeding, and becoming profitable.
‘You need to have the confidence that we all have in you, and Jonathan simply wouldn’t have handed the damn thing over if he didn’t think you could handle it.’
Edmund hadn’t thought of it that way before, and being hundreds of miles away, watching the evening sun shining on the sea in the distance and with the promise of an amusing time away from it all, beside the woman he adored, he felt immediately better. ‘You are a kind and loyal friend, thank you,’ he said, as Liberty completed her tour of the gardens.
Returning to the merry group on the now chilly terrace, Liberty and Deirdre asked Paloma if they could go to their rooms to change and freshen up.
‘Aah,’ replied Paloma. ‘It’s fortunate that your parents have finally realised they should be together, as we will be rather full, what with Savvie and Khalid here. No, no, I won’t hear of you staying anywhere else,’ she added as Khalid volunteered to take his lot to a hotel. ‘But Liberty and Edmund?’ this was asked with a somewhat sly look. ‘Would you two consider sharing a twin room?’
At both their furious blushes and splutterings, Paloma knew she was on to a good thing, but Deirdre, for once oblivious to others’ matchmaking, piped up, ‘Liberty can share with me and Alain with Edmund.’
Paloma glared at her friend, who seemed intent on spoiling her plan and replied, ‘We are all adults, and they can manage, I am sure. No point in separating the engaged couple.’ So two very embarrassed people agreed to share a room, saying it would be just fine. Liberty was grateful she had brought a nightdress, and Edmund was exceedingly pleased Mrs Goodman had packed pyjamas and left out his old teddy bear, which she normally smuggled in.
The baptism was to be held at ten o’clock the following morning, so would be sandwiched between breakfast and a late lunch.
The domestic arrangements settled, they all sat down for a fabulous supper, while Yves slept in a Moses basket by the table, oblivious to the raucous laughter of friends and family celebrating his life, and Deirdre and Alain’s engagement. Rabbit confit was followed by grilled turbot and a dessert of apple tart. After plenty of burgundy and brandy, they all wobbled up to bed.
Edmund used the bathroom first, to allow Liberty to undress, then planned to pretend to be asleep when she came out. However, the vision of the beautiful woman in a silk negligee, her full breasts only hidden by intricate lace, was not conducive to sleep, or even the pretence thereof.
As she sat on the edge of her single bed, she squeezed out some cream on to her hands and started to rub her feet. A hefty chuckle emitted from the lump of duvet in the neighbouring bed.
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Edmund, lifting himself on to his elbows, exposing a very 1950s pair of pyjamas buttoned right up to the top, ‘but it’s funny. I’ve spent my life fighting off glamorous females, who only wanted me because they knew I was going to inherit a large estate, and the one I’ve lost my heart to can sit on her bed, comfortably rubbing foot cream in as though nothing could be further from her mind.’
‘What did you say?’ gasped Liberty.
‘Foot cream!’ And with that, Edmund rolled over into a fuzzy, brandy-induced slumber, dreaming of a vision in silk cuddling up to Digby, his old teddy.
Liberty sat listening to his gentle snoring. Had he said lost his heart? Really? She lay back, both sobered and startled. Was it the drink? Had he meant it? Was it just the surroundings and all the love in the air? And how dare he say that then go to sleep so easily?
Eventually she fell into a dreamless sleep, hoping that morning would bring clarity. But instead it brought a pot of strong coffee and a demand that she got her lazy ass out of bed as everyone was waiting for breakfast – that was Savannah, of course.
Dressing quickly in a mint-green Yves Saint Laurent suit, she ran downstairs to find them indeed all sitting round hungrily looking at the baskets of pastries. Edmund was sipping a cup of black coffee and avoiding her eyes.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting. I took a while to get to sleep, then of course I overdid it.’
‘Well, dig in, then we had best be off. Come, sit next to me,’ said Savannah, who was holding baby Yves while trying to get her own daughter to drink hot chocolate without dunking her croissant in it.
‘It’s OK,’ said Paloma to her kindly. ‘You will find all the children in France do that.’
‘See, Mama,’ said little Sasha, gazing up at her mother with vast brown eyes. ‘I’m already French!’
And the table laughed collectively.
47
The baptism was beautiful – magical, really – and reminded everyone why they should go to church, if only for the ambience. The calm atmosphere and the beautiful altar piece with its Madonna and child, a few offerings left by locals and a couple of flickering candles, made the gathering serene, and even little Yves only gurgled quietly. The open font was the only indication that anything special was taking place; Evangeline and her parents had politely refused Paloma’s offer of flowers, saying they would like all attention focused on the ceremony. Infused with the scent of incense, the tiny chapel gave a feeling of grandeur beyond its status, while the sun shone through the small, plain windows, highlighting the fairy dust twinkling through the air. Yves, dressed in generous lengths of lace, waved his chubby arms and chirruped happily at the priest and then at Liberty, his godmother, and Claude’s old school chum who was standing as godfather. Blessings and prayers were said, and although some of the congregation spoke no French, it mattered little as it still sounded lyrical and they all knew why they were there.
Once the service had finished, photographs were taken outside under a brilliant blue sky. Locals who had joined the congregation offered their congratulations and prayers, and now wandered off to collect baguettes and stroll around the vegetable market that had been set up in the Place des Lices. Everyone staying at Paloma’s gave lifts to those without cars, or those unwilling to drive after what was bound to be a good party. As she went upstairs to change and freshen up, Liberty mulled over the thought that had been nagging at her; Edmund was avoiding her. He had sat right at the back of the chapel, and now was wandering around the gardens with the children rather than going upstairs to their room. But she realised that maybe, just maybe, in a small way he could have meant what he said the previous night. And her cheeks glowed with pleasure.
Meanwhile, Edmund, despite the children’s chattering, was turning things round in his mind. How could he have been such an ass? All right, so he had drunk too much, something unusual for him, but it had been such a fun evening. He had been amazed then frustrated that such a glamorous and attractive woman felt so disinclined sexually towards him that she could sit as though on her own and rub cream into her feet instead of, as he had hoped, emerge f
rom the bathroom all scented and fresh with the intention of sitting on his bed and enchanting him. Even rubbing his feet would have been better! But how had he let those rash words escape from his mouth? He knew exactly how. The moment she bent over a foot, he realised he had no hope. If she was so relaxed and able to treat him like a brother while he lay in bed within touching distance of her, it was obvious that nothing could come of his passion for her, and he had simply said what he had to release him from his dream and get it all out of his system.
Instead, in the sober light of day, it had embarrassed her, made him feel like a fool and ruined his chances completely. Worse, it hadn’t ended his love for her. In fact, it was increased, as he had almost hoped she would run down to breakfast and announce to her family that she loved him – instead of which, she had merely avoided him. What a mess!
Jonathan could see his eldest son from his bedroom window. ‘I’m going into the garden to have a word with Ed, I’ll see you at lunch, my love,’ he said to a slumbering Paloma, who had just enjoyed the masterful fingers of a very unstuffy Englishman.
‘Tell him to get on with it,’ she murmured, and Jonathan asked himself what the amazing woman was mumbling about. How happy she made him, but how confused! He had forgotten what it was like to spend time around a woman’s mind; very distracting and not at all practical.
Finding Edmund alone, the children having escaped to the walled garden to build dens, and sipping a Bloody Mary, Jonathan questioned his eldest.
‘Is it really that bad?’
‘Oh, Pa, you have no idea,’ was the reply.
‘But I thought it was what you always wanted,’ said his father.
Edmund looked up sharply, coming back to his senses. ‘Oh, yes, the estate. It’s fine. I’m getting the hang of things now, nothing to worry yourself about. I was bound to tread on a few toes. Mrs Goodman always makes me feel better. I’ve never been great at people skills, and it’s really like running a family – quite hard to do when you haven’t had experience of that.’