Rosie's Little Café on the Riviera

by Jennifer Bohnet

  A party of six took the last table in the restaurant and as soon as people left a terrace table their places were taken by new people off the beach wanting to eat. In the flurry of preparing and cooking meals, Rosie lost track of time, and looked at her watch in surprise when James said something about it being four o’clock and time to turn the sign around.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ she said. ‘You grab a bite to eat and then help Gina on the takeaway.’ She was in the restaurant before she realised her mistake. Terry and Saskia were still there. Damn and double damn. They should have left ages ago.

  Ignoring them she made for the French doors and systematically began to close them before turning the sign to ‘closed’ on the last pair. Inside her head she repeated the mantra ‘they’ll be gone, they’ll be gone, they’ll be gone when I turn round’. But they weren’t.

  In fact, Terry was watching her while Saskia finished the large knickerbocker glory Rosie remembered making some ten minutes ago, having no idea it was destined for their table.

  ‘Rosie, please may we talk?’

  Terry’s oh so English voice that Rosie remembered had acquired something of a mid-Atlantic twang, which sounded strange to her ears.

  She shook her head. ‘I have no interest in talking to you. We have nothing to say to each other.’

  ‘Not true, Rosie. We have lots to say to each other.’

  ‘It’s years too late.’

  ‘It’s never too…’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Rosie interrupted. ‘For you and me it’s too late. So, just get off my back. I’m not interested in you or anything you have to say.’

  Terry seemed to visibly shrink before her eyes as he heard her words. Rosie looked away. There was absolutely nothing he could say that would make her change her mind.

  ‘Are you sure there’s nothing I can say to persuade you? There’s so much I’d like to tell you, to talk to you about.’

  ‘Nothing,’ Rosie said. ‘I hope you and your bimbo enjoyed your meal.’

  ‘Hey, I’m not a bimbo,’ Saskia said, looking up from scraping the last of the ice cream out of the dish.

  Rosie looked at her. ‘You’re blonde, cute, young and with him.’ Rosie jerked her head in Terry’s direction. ‘So in my book that qualifies you as an old man’s bimbo.’

  Rosie’s hand shook as she picked up their empty glasses before walking away. ‘I’ll send somebody through with your bill. Please pay it and then leave. Forever.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  It was late afternoon when GeeGee returned to the beach after doing a couple of house viewings with a new client. The evening session of Fête de la Musique was still hours away but the beach was crowded with sun worshippers and families. The takeaway was busy with people coming off the beach for ice creams and drinks but several of the terrace tables were free, including her favourite one, tucked away in the back corner of the terrace.

  Making her way towards it she ordered her usual coffee from Rosie before sitting at the table, grateful for the shade of the parasol protecting it from the sun. Placing her laptop in front of her she waited for her coffee – and Jay.

  Erica had been furious on her behalf when she’d told her at lunchtime about Jay’s reappearance. And the fact that he wanted to see her ‘to talk’.

  ‘He ups and leaves with the lame excuse he needs to find himself and now he wants to talk? Honestly, GeeGee, I hope you told him no.’

  One look at GeeGee’s face and she’d sighed. ‘You agreed to see him, didn’t you? Why?’

  GeeGee had struggled to explain her reasons then, and right now she still wasn’t sure why exactly she was sitting here waiting for Jay to show.

  ‘Something to do with getting closure over that part of my life maybe?’ she’d told Erica in the end.

  After the initial shock over his unexpected appearance at the airport and her anger at the situation she’d found herself in, she’d calmed down and tried to view things rationally. Was he here because he wanted them to get back together? If he did – was that something she wanted? There had been no fluttering heart when she’d seen him, so she guessed that answered that particular question. She was over him. So why agree to see him?

  When Jay had texted her asking to meet and talk, she’d thought about refusing, saying there was no point, but in the end had decided it would be better to be civilised and stay friends. Besides, she’d like to ask him why he’d gone without given her a reason. Sending an email twenty-four hours later apologising and saying he needed ‘space to find himself’ was not good enough.

  Wanting closure was probably nearer the truth than she’d realised when she’d given that as the reason to Erica. She did need to know what had gone wrong – from his point of view, because she hadn’t been aware of anything being wrong until he upped and left. The question she wanted answered was quite a simple one: ‘Why?’

  If he came out with that old cliche – ‘it wasn’t you, it was me’ – she’d smile, agree and restrain herself from saying something sarcastic or even slapping him. Of course it was bloody well him – he was the one who’d walked! And now he was back – walking towards her.

  Watching him as he strode confidently across the beach, her brain reregistered his sexy looks. Two women waiting in the queue at the takeaway were giving him covert, apprising looks, disappointment flitting across their faces as they saw him approach GeeGee’s table.

  This time GeeGee didn’t avert her cheek as he leant in to kiss her. ‘It’s really good to see you,’ Jay said, sitting down opposite her. ‘How’s things?’

  ‘Great,’ GeeGee said. ‘Couldn’t be better.’ No way was she going to admit anything else to him. Besides, things were good and getting better.

  ‘You?’

  Before he could answer, Rosie appeared with a bottle of Prosecco nestling in an ice bucket and a plate of canapés.

  ‘Thanks,’ Jay said as she placed everything on the table. ‘You don’t mind, do you? I ordered this once I knew you were coming.’

  GeeGee shook her head. ‘Just the one glass for me – I’m driving, but food will be good.’ Taking the glass he poured for her she said, ‘Are you celebrating something?’

  ‘Santé,’ Jay said as they clinked glasses. ‘I’ll tell you later. For now let’s celebrate me being back and the two of us sitting here together again. We completed lots of deals here, didn’t we?’ he added, looking around.

  GeeGee nodded, deciding to ignore the phrase ‘together again’. ‘We did. How long are you back for?’ Thoughtfully she took a bite of salmon and cream cheese blini and wondered where the conversation was headed.

  Jay took a long drink of his Prosecco before looking at her. ‘I’m back. Full stop.’

  Stunned, GeeGee looked at him. ‘For good? But I thought you were enjoying life in London. What happened? You get bored?’ If the last question sounded bitchy she didn’t care. Was he expecting them to get back together as if nothing had happened?

  ‘It was good and I learnt a lot. I also worked out the things in life that matter to me.’

  ‘You did what you wanted then – you found yourself,’ GeeGee said, trying to keep a note of antagonism out of her voice. ‘But doesn’t the new you want to make the most of it in London?’

  ‘Decided I’d rather live on the Côte d’Azur,’ Jay said. ‘More sunshine for a start.’ He offered GeeGee the bottle before topping up his own glass when she placed her hand over her own. ‘Besides, you’re here.’ As he grinned at her GeeGee saw the old Jay she’d thought had loved her.

  ‘Stop right there,’ GeeGee said. ‘You dumped me, remember?’

  Jay looked at her silently but GeeGee stared him down, determined to try and make him… she wasn’t sure what. Apologise? Say it was a mistake? Grovel?

  As the silence lengthened between them, GeeGee sipped her drink. This was silly. She didn’t want to play games with Jay. She wanted him to hurry up and get this conversation over with. She sighed.


  ‘You said you wanted to talk, so could you get on with it? Please don’t tell me, though, that you want us to get back together.’ There. She couldn’t put it any plainer than that, could she?

  ‘No, this isn’t about us getting back together,’ Jay said. ‘Although I have missed you, so maybe…?’

  GeeGee shook her head vehemently. ‘No chance.’

  ‘Shame. Well, my good news is I’m taking over the agency from Hugo as of next week. I wanted to give you the heads-up about the current contracts for desk rents being revised and upped from 1st September. You might want to look for a desk in another agency if you have a problem with the idea of paying me rent.’

  GeeGee listened to his calm voice delivering his news and shattering her world once again. Her ex-boyfriend was now going to be her boss and charge her for the privilege.

  Hugo had already increased rents at the beginning of the summer, assuring everyone that would be it until next year. GeeGee felt sick. More money to find.

  ‘How much is the increase?’

  ‘Ten per cent.’

  ‘That’s plain greedy on your part.’

  Jay shrugged. ‘Have to make a start somewhere to cover the costs of buying the agency. You can put your own rates up.’

  GeeGee picked up her bag and her laptop before standing up. ‘I take it I have a desk at the agency until September?’

  Jay nodded.

  ‘Good. I’ll email you officially relinquishing it from then.’ Resisting the urge to throw her glass of Prosecco over him, GeeGee turned and walked away.

  Her hand was shaking so much when she reached her car she could barely steady the key enough to fit it in the lock. An hour ago and she’d been congratulating herself on getting her life sorted and here she was being thrown back to square one come September. It was a different square one, though.

  She took a deep, deep breath. Jay had disrupted her life when he left her last year and now he was back and about to do it again. Only this time she was fighting fit and it wouldn’t be the knockout blow it had been last time. This time she had options. Didn’t she?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Hervé returned with the saxophone player for the evening session and soon there was an enthusiastic and happy crowd on the beach around the restaurant. Serving food from the takeaway, plus customers in the restaurant, it was extra busy, which suited Rosie just fine. No time to brood over things.

  The earlier meeting with Terry and Saskia had left her feeling edgy and unsettled. Being busy stopped her thinking about the encounter too much. But it all came back with a thud near midnight when Seb accompanied Terry and Saskia down to the beach and they sat together at one of the terrace tables.

  James took the glasses and the champagne they’d ordered over and carefully popped the cork before filling the glasses and placing the bottle in the ice bucket. Rosie watched as he wrote down their food order. Wordlessly she took it from him and started to prepare the several plates of nibbles ordered.

  What the hell did Seb think he was doing coming here all pally with Terry? It was only hours ago she’d told Terry to leave. Why did he think he would be welcome again? Was he banking on Rosie not making a scene in front of her customers? Well, he was right in that respect but that didn’t stop her from having words with Seb when he came across to say ‘Hi’ and to ask for a second bottle of champagne.

  ‘I could refuse to serve you another one,’ Rosie said. ‘Then you and your “friends” could leave.’ She glared at him, glad there was a momentary lull in people queuing for drinks. ‘Take them back to your place.’

  ‘Rosie, it’s business,’ Seb said. ‘He’s a customer of mine who asked me to join him for a drink during the Fête de la Musique. I tried to tempt him with Cannes and the Croisette but he insisted we came here.’

  ‘Did he tell you I told him to leave this afternoon? Forever. Why doesn’t he just GO home?’

  ‘If you mean back to the States – he’s not going. His plans have changed since London. He’s relocating to Europe. In fact, he’s asked me to help find him a house. I’ve introduced him to GeeGee and she’s shown him one villa in particular that he really likes.’

  ‘What? He intends to live around here?’

  Seb shrugged. ‘Wants somewhere on the coast. But keep it to yourself. He doesn’t want word to get out yet that he’s not returning to LA.’

  Rosie sighed. ‘Why this particular piece of Europe? Why can’t he go to Italy? Or Spain? Anywhere – just not near me!’

  Why, after all these years, did they both have to end up on the same bit of Europe? It was far too late to start playing happy families.

  ‘Why won’t you at least talk to him?’

  ‘Because I have nothing to say to him. At least nothing he would want to hear.’ Rosie picked up a cloth and vigorously began to wipe the counter down.

  ‘You could listen to him. He might have something important to tell you.’

  ‘I’m not interested in anything he might have to say. It’s years too late for that.’

  Rosie threw the cloth into the sink underneath the counter and glanced across to where the musicians were playing. Earlier they had encouraged a couple of their friends to sing along with a medley of songs from the 1920s. Now they were playing a selection of Charles Aznavour hits.

  ‘What’s he doing? He had better not be coming over here,’ she said, watching as Terry left his seat and made his way towards the musicians.

  ‘Think he’s asking for a special request,’ Seb said. ‘What music does he like?’

  Rosie stared at him. ‘How the hell should I know?’

  ‘He’s your father. You must know something about his likes and dislikes.’

  ‘None of your business, but seeing as he left Olivia and me when I was eight, I have absolutely no idea of his musical tastes – or his tastes in anything else for that matter. Except he clearly likes bimbos.’

  ‘Okay.’ Seb held his hands up in surrender. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Rosie looked past him and saw Tiki taking to the microphone. ‘Oh, my God. He’s going to sing.’

  ‘Can he s…?’

  The glint in Rosie’s eyes stopped him in mid-question. Seb turned to watch as Terry began to sing the Charles Aznavour song ‘Yesterday When I Was Young’.

  ‘At least he’s in tune,’ Rosie muttered.

  ‘I’ve heard worse,’ Seb said. ‘Think he’s singing it to you.’

  ‘Embarrassing,’ Rosie said, realising Seb was right. Terry was sending glances her way, trying to catch her gaze. Steadfastly she looked anywhere but in his direction.

  Minutes later, breathing a sigh of relief that the song was at last coming to an end, she made the mistake of looking at Terry directly. As he sang the words, ‘the time has come for me to pay for yesterday when I was young,’ he looked across at her, and caught her gaze.

  ‘If he thinks that little performance is going to change my mind, he’s wrong,’ Rosie said. No way was she going to admit to being shaken by what appeared to be genuine emotion.

  ‘Right, I’ve got work to do.’ She went to move back into the kitchen. Seb put out a hand and stopped her.

  ‘Rosie, listen to me – you have to talk to him.’

  She shook her head but something in the tone of his voice made her look at him. ‘Why? I can’t think of one single reason why I should do that.’

  Seb hesitated before saying, ‘He’s ill. And Saskia’s not his bimbo. She’s your sister.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  As late as it was, but knowing she wouldn’t sleep if she went back to the apartment, Rosie took Lucky for a run on the beach and then sat on the rocks. Thrilled as she had been with the success of Café Fleur’s first Fête de la Musique celebrations, all the stuffing had been knocked out of her with Seb’s announcement about Terry. She’d been there for about ten minutes trying to think things through when Seb arrived.

  ‘I thought I’d find you here. Want s
ome company?’

  Rosie shrugged. ‘If you like. I warn you, though, I’m not in the mood to say nice things.’

  ‘I’ve told you before I’m a good listener. I might even be able to help – alternative view and all that.’

  ‘I suppose Terry asked you to tell me he’s ill? Well, it won’t work. I won’t be blackmailed into feeling sympathetic towards him and behaving differently,’ Rosie said, picking up a pebble and trying to send it skimming across the sea. It plopped into the water a mere metre from the shore line and disappeared from view. ‘Because that’s what he’s trying to do by telling you to tell me he’s ill. Pure blackmail.’ Another stone followed the first.

  Seb sighed. ‘No, it’s not blackmail. He’d asked me not to tell you. I broke his confidence when I told you.’

  ‘So why did you?’

  Seb was silent for several seconds. ‘Because I wanted to help you make the right decision.’

  ‘You mean give in and talk to him.’

  ‘You might regret it later if you don’t.’

  ‘The thing is, I don’t really care if he’s ill. I know that’s wrong but I can’t help it.’

  Rosie knew from the look on Seb’s face he was shocked at her statement. But it was the truth as far as she was concerned. She sighed.

  ‘We’ve been estranged for more than half my life. Terry let Olivia and me down big time and then blew any possibility of a close father-daughter relationship for ever when I was seventeen – and that was nine years after he deserted Olivia and me.’

  Frustratedly Rosie picked up a handful of pebbles and threw them into the water one by one. Plop. Plop. Plop. Stones barely hitting the top of the water before disappearing.

  ‘Sure, I’ll feel sad like I do when anyone I know dies, and I’ll probably have a pang of loss when Terry eventually goes but…’ Rosie shook her head. ‘It won’t be a pang of loss for a loved one. There is no love connection between Terry and me and please don’t mention that old cliché about blood being thicker than water. I no longer believe it.’ Had never believed it, if the truth be told.