Rosie's Little Café on the Riviera

by Jennifer Bohnet

  Half an hour later, as they sat drinking coffee on the Café de Paris terrace watching the world go by, Rosie broached the subject.

  ‘Mum, about you and Zander.’

  ‘What about me and Zander?’ Olivia said. ‘I’m happier than I’ve been in years. I think I make him happy, too. You have a problem with that?’

  Rosie shook her head. ‘I’m glad you’re happy, obviously, but…’ She hesitated.

  ‘You’re worried about Zander’s reputation? About the age gap?’

  ‘Yes to both,’ Rosie said. ‘But mainly I worry that you’ll end up hurt.’

  ‘Possibly. But I’m not that naive, I know the score. Meantime I’m enjoying life with a man I am exceedingly fond of. I only wish you were currently as lucky. Heard from Charlie lately?’

  ‘We’re not talking about me,’ Rosie said. ‘But no, thank goodness.’ She could live without Charlie trying to involve her in his life again.

  Olivia glanced at her before saying quietly, ‘I’ve spent a great deal of my adult life alone. I don’t want you to do the same.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Rosie said equally quietly. ‘But I’m not going to take up with just anyone to avoid that.’

  ‘That’s been my reasoning all these years,’ Olivia said. ‘So trust me. It’s a bit late, but now I’ve met him, Zander isn’t just anyone to me. He’s special. I had high hopes of Charlie being special for you.’ Olivia glanced at Rosie. ‘He’s a good guy.’

  ‘He may be a good guy,’ Rosie said quietly. ‘But he’s got too much money and a possessive, controlling streak. Besides, right now, I have to concentrate on the Café Fleur.’

  Olivia laughed. ‘Darling, you can never have too much money.’

  Rosie shrugged. ‘Maybe not, but you can be too possessive. Anyway, Charlie moves in a different circle to me. It’s not one I feel comfortable in.’ She jumped as a loud bang rang out when a lorry dropped its load of Armco safety barriers in the road.

  ‘You’ll have a good view of the Grand Prix from Zander’s apartment,’ she said.

  Olivia shook her head. ‘We won’t be here. Zander’s taking me to Italy that weekend to get away from all the hype and noise.’

  ‘He doesn’t like F1?’ Rosie said. ‘I would have thought he’d be involved in the socialising if nothing else.’

  ‘Oh, I think he likes it but says TV gives a better coverage and he can watch in Italy. Besides, he’s got a good price for renting the apartment out. He says we’ll definitely be back in time to go to a celebration party on the Sunday evening, though,’ Olivia said, finishing her coffee. ‘Which reminds me. I need a dress. Let’s go.’

  Two hours later, when Olivia had found not only a dress but also shoes, and Rosie had declined the offer of a new outfit, they made their way back to the apartment overlooking the old port.

  Rosie stood on the balcony wondering what it would be like to have the money to live in Monaco permanently. ‘D’you like living here?’ she asked as Olivia joined her on the balcony and handed her a glass of rosé.

  ‘Most of the time,’ Olivia replied. ‘There’s just something about this place that makes it special. Although sometimes I do feel I’m living in a dream. I know people perceive it as pretentious and way too glamorous to be true but there are lesser mortals like me living here, too. Imagine, though, what it must have been like in the days of Princess Grace before almost all the grande belle époque villas vanished.’

  She turned as the apartment door slammed. ‘Zander’s home.’

  Rosie turned away as Olivia and Zander embraced and kissed. Honestly, her mother was behaving like a lovestruck teenager!

  Zander insisted on taking them out for supper and then, despite Rosie’s protests, said, ‘And after we walk you to the station, Olivia and I, we have to meet someone at the Casino later, so I’m sorry, I can’t drive you home.’

  Later, as the train rattled along the coast, Rosie realised she’d enjoyed the evening. She could also see the attraction Zander had for Olivia. She’d never seen her happier – so she had to be pleased for her, didn’t she? Besides, what business was it of hers anyway?

  She wouldn’t stand for Olivia interfering in her love life so how could she even think about interfering in hers? Olivia had been on her own now for so long Rosie didn’t really understand why she’d had this sudden need to move in with someone. She’d always had a busy social life, never mentioned being lonely. Maybe Zander really was special to her?

  Rosie frowned as she came to a decision. Whatever Olivia and Zander had going on, it was none of her business and was best ignored until it petered out. Which Rosie was convinced it would eventually. She’d just have to make sure Olivia knew she’d be there for her if and when needed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  It was the last weekend of the film festival and Café Fleur had been mega busy. It was gone seven o’clock Sunday evening before an exhausted Rosie said goodnight to James, leaving him to lock the restaurant door behind her, and made her way home with Lucky. Her mobile rang as she opened the door. Olivia.

  ‘Hi, Mum, how was Italy?’

  ‘Put Channel 3 on the TV on NOW,’ Olivia said, ignoring the question. ‘It’s the presentation of the awards at the festival.’

  ‘Why? You know I’m not into all that. And I’m so tired all I want to do is collapse.’

  ‘Just do it,’ Olivia insisted. ‘And hurry. Otherwise you’ll miss it.’

  Puzzled, Rosie did as she was told. She was just in time to see a man waving his trophy in the air and leave the stage before the camera swung back to the presenter.

  ‘Mum! Is that who I think it was?’

  ‘Yes. Although he’s going by the name Tiki Gilvear these days. Tiki! I ask you, what sort of name is that? Apparently he’s feted everywhere in America as a brilliant scriptwriter after he penned some blockbuster movie.’

  ‘He’s got a ponytail,’ Rosie said.

  ‘And doesn’t that look ridiculous on a man of his age,’ her mother practically snorted down the phone. ‘He was always good at making a fool of himself without realising it. Oh. I’ve got to go. Zander is waiting. I’ll ring you in the morning and we’ll talk more then. Bye.’

  Rosie switched the phone off and sat down numbly in front of the television, her mind barely registering the scenes flashing before her eyes. Until, that is, the camera scanned the auditorium and she caught another fleeting glimpse of a smiling Tiki Gilvear.

  Now she had the unwelcome answer to who’d been asking for her at the restaurant. Tiki Gilvear. He could have left that name with Tansy – it wouldn’t have meant anything to her. Thank goodness she hadn’t been there and he hadn’t bothered to come back. At least she’d been spared the embarrassment of a face-to-face meeting and telling him to get lost.

  Absently, Rosie stroked Lucky. Why had Tiki Gilvear come to the Café Fleur in the first place to see her? Why hadn’t he bothered to make a second attempt to contact her? Not that she had any desire to see him. There was nothing left to say to each other. Thankfully, with the festival finishing this evening, he’d be off back to America in the morning and his life of fame over there.

  ***

  Monday morning at work, Rosie was still trying to put Sunday evening’s TV scenes out of her mind. Sleep had evaded her for most of the night and there were huge bags under her eyes.

  ‘I’ve got some industrial-strength concealer in my bag if you want some?’ Tansy said.

  ‘I look that bad?’

  Tansy nodded. ‘Afraid so. What’s up?’

  Rosie shook her head. ‘I just couldn’t sleep for some reason.’ No point in telling Tansy that learning the identity of the ponytailed stranger had thrown her. She’d only want to know who he was and start to question why he’d turned up now, and Rosie had done enough speculating about that herself during the last few hours.

  Rosie moved towards the coffee machine. ‘Coffee will help. James been down yet?’

  ‘I sen
t him off to get some cream and to order the weekend crabs. He should be back soon.’

  Rosie flicked through the reservations book. ‘We’re in for a week of busy lunchtimes by the look of this. We’re going to need Alicia every day. I just hope she’s available and Seb hasn’t already booked her.’

  ‘Talking about me? Morning girls. You all right, Rosie?’ Seb asked, giving her a concerned look as he walked into the kitchen.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks,’ Rosie said, wishing she’d taken Tansy up on the concealer. ‘Actually, we were hoping Alicia would be available every day this week and not already working for you. What are you doing here anyway? Haven’t you got a hotel to run?’

  The words came out sharper then she intended and she gave Seb a half-smile by way of apology.

  ‘Take no notice of her,’ Tansy said. ‘She’s had a hard night. Didn’t get much sleep.’

  Rosie closed her eyes in exasperation at the way Tansy had phrased the words. She dreaded to think what Seb would make of them.

  ‘What she means is, I didn’t sleep very well last night and I’m tired.’

  ‘You need some fresh air. Come on. It’ll do you good. Clear your head,’ Seb said opening the door. ‘Besides, I need to talk to you,’ he added as Rosie went to protest she didn’t have time.

  ‘Fifteen minutes,’ she said to Tansy. ‘Could you phone Alicia for me, please? Tell her we need as many hours as she can give us this week.’

  The sun had yet to come around the headland and there were few people about so the beach still had that deserted, beginning-of-the-day air about it.

  Seb, with his customary indifference to wet feet and shoes, happily squelched along in his docksiders where the waves lapped the shore, while Rosie did her best to stay upside of the tide line.

  ‘Ugh. I don’t know how you can do that. Why don’t you just go barefoot?’ she asked. ‘Your feet are going to be so cold and clammy by the time we get back.’

  Seb glanced down indifferently. ‘I’ll change when I get back. What’s wrong? I know you like to paddle.’

  ‘Of course I do – but properly, with bare feet,’ Rosie said. ‘I can’t stand wearing wet and cold shoes or socks.’

  Smiling, Seb shook his head at her before pulling a toothpick out of his pocket and starting to chew on it.

  ‘Are you out of cigarettes and desperate?’ Rosie said.

  Seb shook his head. ‘Thought I ought to make a real effort this summer to stop. Chewing on one of these cinnamon-flavoured things is supposed to help.’

  ‘And does it?’

  ‘Not so far, no.’

  Rosie laughed. ‘Good luck, anyway. So, what did you want to talk to me about?’

  ‘I need you to come to a party in Monaco with me next Sunday afternoon,’ Seb said.

  ‘Need?’

  ‘Mm. My ex-partner is going to be there and I don’t fancy going on my own.’

  ‘Ex-partner as in ex-girlfriend?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But if I come with you, won’t she assume that I’m now your girlfriend?’

  Seb nodded. ‘That’s what I’m hoping.’

  ‘But I’m not.’

  ‘You could be. Just for Sunday if you like.’

  Rosie stopped and looked at Seb. ‘Why would you want… what’s her name?’

  ‘Zoe.’

  ‘Why d’you want Zoe to think I’m your girlfriend, when I’m not?’

  Seb sighed. ‘It’s complicated but basically I need to her to know that we’re finished – a fact she’s patently refusing to believe. I’m hoping that if she actually sees me with someone else, it will sink in that we are truly history and we can go back to being civilised friends.’

  ‘Why did you break up, anyway? And how long ago? Did your gambling habit have anything to do with it?’ Rosie asked, deciding she needed more information before committing herself to being paraded before an ex as the current girlfriend.

  ‘It’s a long story. She involved me in something and then decided I was superfluous to requirements and told me to get lost. My gambling habit was not involved but my personal morals were.’

  ‘How long ago did this happen?’

  ‘Six years,’ Seb answered flatly. ‘We had a big argument, but on principle I refused to get lost as she demanded.’

  ‘Is that why she thinks you’re still hung up on her?’ Rosie asked.

  ‘I was determined to remain civilised and friends. It is better that way.’ Seb shrugged his shoulders. ‘But Zoe, she took it as a sign that I couldn’t let her go when she wanted to move on. Now, though, she has decided she made a mistake and wants me back in her life. She can’t accept that I’m serious when I say I don’t want to be in her life that way.’

  Rosie sidestepped a larger than usual wave before saying, ‘So, during these six years, Zoe has never met a girlfriend of yours to convince her you’re over the affair?’

  ‘I worked unsociable hours at The Recluse and I was always alone when I saw Zoe. It is only now, with the hotel, I can have private time when I want. Within reason.’

  ‘But there must be someone else you could take – Isabella, for instance,’ Rosie said, remembering Veronique’s question at the party.

  Seb smiled. ‘It’s Isabella’s party – that’s how I know Zoe will be there. Please come with me, Rosie. I promise you’ll have fun.’

  ‘OK,’ Rosie said. ‘I’ll come with you.’ At least she’d get to meet this Isabella woman. Pretending to be Seb’s girlfriend might be fun, too.

  ‘Thank you,’ Seb said, catching hold of her hand and swinging her around to face him. ‘And now, Rosie, tell me why did you not sleep last night?’

  Rosie hesitated. Should she tell Seb about Tiki Gilvear? On the one hand it was nobody else’s business, but she could do with discussing it with somebody.

  ‘Are you still worried about Olivia and Zander?’ Seb said as she hesitated.

  ‘No, its not them. I’ve decided their affair will just have to burn itself out. It’s something else.’ Rosie stopped, a horrified expression on her face as she looked downwards.

  ‘Seb Groc, how could you!’ With Seb still holding her hand, she was standing not only below the tideline but in the sea.

  ‘I’ve got wet feet!’

  Seb burst out laughing.

  ‘It’s not funny.’ Wrenching her hand out of Seb’s and moving on to dry sand, Rosie bent down and took her shoes off.

  ‘That’s it. Talk over. I’m going back to the restaurant.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  GeeGee was tired but happy. For the first time in months she actually had some spare cash in her purse thanks to Bruno. This last weekend she’d been back and forth to the airport no less than ten times picking up his clients.

  It had taken a couple of trips before the sense of being the new girl on the block had left her. By then all the tips Bruno had given her that first evening had become second nature: try and find a parking space on an easily accessible floor – otherwise, near the lift – ‘Don’t want the clients having to walk too far,’ he’d said. Get an official sign from the desk to write names on; pay the parking fee before you get to the exit. Above all, smile – ‘People will forgive you a lot if you smile,’ he’d said.

  Last night had been the first real test of her ability to smile on the job. The flight, due to arrive at 11.05 p.m., was ‘en retard’ when she walked into the arrivals hall. Nobody on the information desk could give her even an estimated time of arrival.

  Bruno had warned her late-night flights were a real pain but it was always best to hang around the airport in case things suddenly improved, so she bought herself a cup of coffee and a magazine and settled in for the wait. Three coffees and three hours later the flight landed.

  Five hours sleep, a hot, reviving shower, and she was sitting at her desk in the agency the next morning failing to laugh at a joke Hugo clearly felt was in line for the joke of the year.

  �
��Had a sense of humour bypass today, have we?’ Hugo said. ‘You’d better get yourself sorted before your ten o’clock appointment,’ he added before turning away. ‘Or I might just have to take over.’

  GeeGee resisted the urge to shout after him, ‘That joke was racist and so not funny. And steal my clients again – I’ll show you how funny I can be.’ She knew from previous set-tos with him that it didn’t pay to provoke Hugo.

  She took her ten o’clock clients for their second viewing of an apartment in a modern block on the bord de mer and managed to keep a professional smile fixed in place when they said they’d like to buy it. They’d never have guessed she was ‘this close’ to punching the air with delight. She just knew things were on the turn for her. To celebrate she took them to the Café Fleur for coffees and to start the paperwork.

  After they’d left she sent Erica a text. ‘Fancy lunch on the beach? Bring Cammie. I’m paying.’ Time to treat her favourite people.

  Waiting for them to arrive, GeeGee checked her emails before closing down the laptop and ordering a glass of rosé the next time James passed on his way to the kitchen. Doing a spot of people-watching, sitting by the sea on a sunny day with a glass of wine, was something she didn’t do very often but today she’d enjoy it.

  A cluster of luxury yachts were moored out in the bay around the l’ile de Lerins, a helicopter buzzing around the largest one. Fascinated, she watched as it slowly descended onto its landing pad.

  After Dan had signed for apartment 4c she’d looked up the yacht he was crew on. Owned by a Russian, it was definitely a serious contender for mega yacht of the year and was one of the few that carried a helicopter. Maybe that was the yacht he worked on anchored out by the islands and Dan was one of the crew on the deck greeting the helicopter’s passenger as they stepped onboard.

  Sipping her rosé, GeeGee wondered if Dan would remember his offer of coffee when his purchase of apartment 4c completed. She’d definitely take him up on it if he did, but he’d probably forgotten even saying it.