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Rosie's Little Café on the Riviera

Page 21

by Jennifer Bohnet


  Half an hour later she wandered into the big newsagents. In among all the magazines and paperbacks there was a section of ‘How To…’ books. One bright cover extolled the virtues of EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique). ‘Tap Tap your stress and phobias away.’ Despite herself GeeGee was curious and picked one up.

  Standing there reading about how tapping on certain parts of the body could help banish stress and phobias, GeeGee decided she needed this book. Anything that could help relieve the stress the next few months were sure to bring would be good.

  Buying a coffee and croissant, GeeGee settled down to wait for Bruno and the 11.40 plane to land. She was deep into the book when Bruno sat down beside her.

  ‘How’s things?’ he said, placing his own coffee on the table.

  Silently she handed him one of her new business cards. ‘What d’you think?’

  ‘Not going to be stealing my clients, are you?’ he said. ‘I’m joking,’ he added quickly as he saw the look on her face.

  ‘No, of course I’m not, but I am hoping you’ll think of me for any, let’s say, overspill you might have. You know, extra airport runs, maybe a holiday apartment that doesn’t fit in with your area?’ She looked at him hopefully. ‘Work together.’

  Bruno nodded. ‘What about your desk in the agency?’

  ‘Given up. Fully independent as of today.’

  ‘Anything to do with Jay returning?’ Bruno asked quietly.

  ‘He was the catalyst but it’s more to do with earning a big commission that will be landing in my bank account about now,’ GeeGee said. ‘Large enough to give me a security cushion for a few months while I expand. It’s a bit of a‘do it now or it’ll never happen’ time really.’

  ‘Get it right and you’ll have a good life and business. I’ll certainly carry on getting you to help out with airport runs,’ Bruno said. ‘As for overspill, well, we’ve been asked to handle one or two new apartments that we’re hesitating over. Let me talk to Patsy tonight, OK?’

  Speechless, GeeGee gazed at him in delight.

  ‘Right now, though, I think we’d better go and do a spot of meet and greet. The flight appears to have landed early,’ Bruno said, standing up and pointing to the arrivals monitor on the pillar behind them.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Erica knew it was premature of her to start packing things before she’d even had an official offer on the house, let alone found one she wanted to buy, but she was determined to be ready to move. She didn’t want any last-minute panic. Eight years of living in the house meant there was a lot of sorting out to do. She was unprepared for the current emotional roller coaster she found herself on, though.

  She’d thought she was beginning to heal. Almost twelve months on, both she and Cammie had survived the hurt. She no longer woke in the middle of the night and sobbed uncontrollably into her pillow, praying that Cammie wouldn’t hear her. She’d stopped crying out in despair, ‘Why did it have to happen to Pascal?’

  They’d had so many plans for their lives. Another baby – maybe two – siblings for Cammie. Now Cammie would always be an only child and she herself was unlikely to produce any more babies.

  Cammie, too, was better in so many ways. Her teachers had told her they noticed an improvement week by week. More like the child she’d been before the accident. No longer withdrawn and thumb-sucking but still not wanting to get in a car. Although there had been a couple of times recently, when Erica had suggested it, that Cammie had appeared to hesitate before shaking her head. Erica knew she had to work on this; that it was the key to Cammie going forward to being whole again.

  Having promised Cammie that ‘yes, Daddy’s things will come with us to the new house’, Erica knew she had to tread carefully sorting out his things. Anything she disposed of would have to be done out of sight of Cammie.

  She still missed Pascal like crazy. His clothes still hung in the wardrobe, pushed to one side, admittedly, as she couldn’t face seeing them every time she opened the wardrobe door, but knowing they were there and clutching them in her arms, inhaling their scent, had given her some comfort in the early days. Sorting through them and taking them to a local charity had been something she’d delayed and delayed. But the time had come. She’d start with the clothes, hoping that Cammie wouldn’t notice their absence in the new house.

  Jumpers and T-shirts she could wear went in one pile; trousers, suits, shoes, all went in black bags.

  Finding the photo in the breast pocket of a linen jacket Pascal had worn on summer evenings, Erica couldn’t hold back the tears. She’d forgotten about this photo.

  Taken the weekend of her birthday last year, the three of them had gone to Marineland in Antibes. She remembered, at the end of the day, Pascal asking a passing stranger to take the shot, refusing to settle for just a selfie on his phone. ‘No, I want a nice picture of the three of us,’ he’d insisted. ‘Something to treasure.’

  They’d stood by the penguin enclosure, arms around each other, Cammie in front of them grinning happily. Such a lovely day. Erica put the photo down on the dressing table. Something to treasure indeed. She’d find a frame for it later.

  GeeGee arrived home as she was dragging the bags downstairs. ‘Hi, you ready?’

  Erica looked at her. ‘Hell. I’d totally forgotten we were house viewing this evening. Give me five minutes,’ Erica said. ‘And could we drop these off at the charity shop on our way?

  ‘Sure. You go freshen up and I’ll put them in the car.’

  The villa GeeGee drove them to had ticked a lot of boxes for Erica when she’d seen the brochure. Even Cammie had said it looked nice. The reality looked good, too, as GeeGee parked on its private driveway.

  Situated in a narrow lane off a steep hill above the coast road, the villa and gardens had wonderful views of the Mediterranean. The gardens were a manageable size and, as GeeGee unlocked the front door, Erica felt a frisson of anticipation.

  ‘How long has it been empty?’

  ‘About three weeks. English couple had to return unexpectedly – family problems,’ GeeGee said, opening the first pair of shutters in the kitchen.

  Sunlight filled the large room, illuminating its terracotta floor and Provençal blue-and-yellow-tiled work surfaces. Erica could see herself and Cammie happily cooking together there. French doors led out onto a small patio – perfect for eating breakfast al fresco.

  Excitement began to bubble up as Erica followed GeeGee from room to room. The sitting room ran the length of the villa – its front wall consisting of several sets of French doors, which all opened onto a large terrace overlooking the swimming pool, its waters glittering in the evening sunlight.

  Wandering through the rest of the house – four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a utility room, cellar, Erica knew she’d found the place for her and Cammie. It just felt so right.

  ‘I should come back with Cammie to make sure she likes it, too, but I love it. So much room for all three of us.’

  ‘Three?’ GeeGee said.

  ‘One of the bedrooms with the en-suite has your name on it,’ Erica said, turning to look at her friend. ‘No arguments. Have you got the papers on you? I want to sign.’

  ‘Without showing Cammie?’ GeeGee said, surprised. ‘You do get a seven-day cooling off period, but…’

  ‘We’ll bring her to look but I just don’t want to risk anyone else buying it from under me. I know she’s going to love it as much as me – especially if I tell her there is definitely room for a dog,’ Erica said. ‘Come on, let’s go get her.’

  GeeGee dropped Erica off to collect Cammie from Madeleine’s and, as they walked home, Erica told her about the new house.

  ‘We’ll drop your things back home, and then we’ll walk over there for you to see. GeeGee has the keys and will meet us there.’

  ‘Is my room big? Can I see the sea from it?’ Cammie said. ‘What kind of dog can I have?’

  Erica laughed. ‘We’ll have to move in first before w
e think about a dog.’

  When they got back to the villa GeeGee was waiting for them with bottles of rosé, orange juice, water and some plastic cups.

  ‘I nipped into the supermarket on the way back. Thought we’d celebrate by having our first picnic down by the pool,’ GeeGee said as an excited Cammie ran around looking at things. ‘The pizza should be here soon.’

  ‘Are we really going to live here?’ Cammie asked as she flopped down exhausted by Erica and dangled her feet in the pool.

  ‘Yep, as soon as the notaires do all the paperwork,’ GeeGee said. ‘Think I can hear a motorbike with our pizza delivery.’

  While GeeGee went to fetch the pizza, Erica asked Cammie. ‘So you think you’ll like living here then?’

  Cammie nodded. ‘Yes. Which bedroom are you having, Mummy? Because I’d really, really like that one.’ And she pointed to the bedroom window at the far end of the villa. Erica, working out that it was the one she’d planned on giving to her, couldn’t resist teasing her a little.

  She pulled a face. ‘I like that one, too.’

  Cammie shook her head. ‘The big one in the middle with the little balcony is better for you. You can sit out there and read when you can’t sleep. Nobody will see you in your PJs.’

  Erica smothered a smile. Sometimes Cammie reminded her so much of Pascal with her instant observations and grown-up statements. ‘OK. That’s settled. GeeGee can have the other big bedroom at the back of the house.’

  An hour later, sitting on the terrace having devoured pizza, watching the sun set, with her daughter cuddled into her, Erica felt happy and optimistic for the first time in months. This villa represented a new beginning for both her and Cammie. Things could only get better from now on.

  She shifted her weight and gently shook her sleeping daughter who had dozed off leaning against her. ‘Come on, sleepy head, time to walk home.’

  ‘I can take you,’ GeeGee said sotto voice. ‘If she’s asleep…’

  Erica shook her head. ‘No. I can’t do that. She has to decide to get in a car herself. I’m not tricking her into it.’ She shook Cammie gently again. ‘Wake up, sweetheart. Time to go home.’

  ‘I’m tired,’ Cammie said irritably as she stood up and yawned. ‘Don’t want to walk. Can’t GeeGee take us in her car?’

  Shocked, Erica looked at GeeGee before scooping her daughter up in her arms and making her way towards the car parked in the driveway. Today was turning out to be very eventful.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  It took four vases to hold the huge bouquet of flowers that arrived for Rosie at the café. The card told her they were from ‘A grateful Tiki who desperately needs to talk to you. Please, please, contact me’.

  Seb walked in as she was placing the last vase on the restaurant bar. ‘I’m guessing Tiki?’

  Rosie nodded. ‘Over the top, really, but they are beautiful, aren’t they?’ She handed him the card to read.

  ‘He’s leaving the hotel today. He’s persuaded the lawyers to get their fingers out and complete the villa purchase urgently.’ Seb looked at her. ‘He’s also told Saskia she’s not going anywhere without an escort – even talking about hiring a bodyguard.’

  ‘Saskia was afraid he’d overreact,’ Rosie said. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about him coming into the restaurant, or bumping into him unexpectedly on the beach if he’d moved into his new house.

  ‘So, when are you going to see him?’

  ‘I’ll ring him later and find an evening when it’s convenient,’ Rosie said. ‘Let him settle in first.’

  ‘Good luck with that,’ Seb said. ‘Honestly, you have no idea how upset he is. He needs answers and he’s not a patient man.’

  ‘Well, he’s going to have to wait,’ Rosie said. ‘I’ve got the café to run.’

  ‘If you don’t want him turning up here you’d better ring him sooner rather than later.’ Seb kissed her gently. ‘I’ve got to get back to the hotel. I’ll see you after lunch.’

  Rosie took her phone out of her pocket. She definitely didn’t want an angry Terry turning up and causing a scene. This time Terry recognised her number.

  ‘Rosie. Thank God you’ve rung. I thought I’d have to come to the café to see you. Can we talk this morning? Ten o’clock would suit me.’

  ‘I’m afraid it doesn’t suit me. The earliest I can make it is seven o’clock this evening. You’re busy moving today anyway, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, but I have people taking care of all that,’ Terry said. ‘OK. Tonight. I’ll send a car for you.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that. I can make my own way,’ Rosie said, but she was talking to empty air. Terry had hung up.

  The limo that Terry sent to fetch her that evening was long, sleek and luxurious. Rosie sat back looking out at the Mediterranean as the chauffeur negotiated his way along the traffic-filled bord de mer, taking deep breaths in order to calm herself.

  Terry wanted to talk about Saskia’s assault but the chances that he would bring up the subject of her and Olivia afterwards was high. The first she could cope with rationally, but Rosie knew she’d have to fight to stay calm when the conversation turned to events of nearly twenty years ago. If only the drive could go on forever. Or preferably the driver could get lost and take her home instead.

  Ten minutes was all it took to arrive at the villa with its dark-green and gold-leaf-highlighted wrought-iron gates that silently swung open at the touch of a button. A short drive curved its way through banks of oleander before the car stopped in front of a flight of shallow steps leading up to the Provençal villa, its numerous windows glinting in the evening sun, the grounds around it immaculate.

  Rosie caught her breath. The pictures in the brochure she’d seen at Seb’s had, like he’d said, failed to do it justice. It was like driving into a film set. Surreal.

  As the chauffeur opened the door for her and she stepped out, she saw Terry at the top of the steps waiting to welcome her. In the few days since she’d last seen him walking past the café, he appeared to have aged.

  She realised with a shock, too, that his ponytail had gone. His hair had been cropped into an old-fashioned crew cut. His clothes, black jeans and a white shirt, were as immaculate as ever but he’d definitely lost weight and they hung on him. Stress over Saskia? Or was his illness becoming worse?

  ‘Rosie. Welcome to my new home.’

  Thoughtfully Rosie followed him as he led the way out onto a terrace at the back of the villa overlooking an enormous swimming pool. The view along the coast was spectacular. Cane chairs with small teak tables were dotted around the terrace. On one, a bottle of Moet in an ice bucket was waiting to be opened.

  ‘I’ll give you a tour of the house after we’ve talked,’ Terry said, gesturing to her to sit before he sank into a chair opposite her.

  ‘Impossible to believe you only moved in today. Everything is so organised,’ Rosie said. ‘Thank you for my flowers, by the way. They are beautiful. But there really wasn’t any need. Is Saskia here?’

  ‘Right now she’s sorting out her room. She’ll maybe join us later.’ Terry looked at Rosie, his face serious.

  ‘Neither she nor I can thank you enough for the other evening.’

  ‘I only did what anyone would do.’

  ‘So far she refuses to report it,’ Terry said. ‘Or tell me exactly what happened. I’m hoping you’ll fill me in on the details?’

  Rosie shook her head. ‘Sorry. It’s down to Saskia to tell you, not me.’

  ‘You’re both as stubborn as each other. Must be in the genes,’ he added with a sideways look at Rosie. When Rosie ignored the comment, he sighed.

  ‘I don’t know what Olivia has told you about the past, but things aren’t always black and white, you know.’

  ‘Don’t you dare blame Mum. She never said a bad word about you to me when I was growing up. If anything she defended you, not wanting me to believe you’d stopped loving me as well as
her. It was your own words and indifference when I rang you that made me hate you.’

  The silence that followed her words was long and painful to both of them. Rosie, looking at Terry’s ashen face, regretted saying them so harshly but there was no way she’d let Olivia take the blame for anything. ‘I’m sorry but that’s the way it was.’

  Terry bit his lip as he nodded sadly. ‘I’m sorry, too.’ He hesitated before asking, ‘Do you still feel that way?’

  ‘I’m not seventeen any more, so no. These days I do try and think about things more objectively rather than leaping to conclusions,’ Rosie said. ‘Something I’ve been told I do too readily,’ she said, remembering Seb telling her off. But to be honest, I’m not sure how I feel about you at all these days.’ She shrugged. ‘Indifferent probably sums it up. You disappeared out of my life so long ago that it’s difficult to believe you want back in.’

  ‘To be fair, Rosie, in the beginning I didn’t disappear out of your life so much as you wouldn’t let me stay in. I’m praying it’s not too late to try and change things because this time you have a sister who needs your help.’

  Guiltily Rosie remembered the cards and presents she’d refused to have anything to do with. Had he ever mentioned Saskia in the letters she’d thrown away unread?

  ‘A sister I never knew existed until this summer. Why should I care?’ Even as she spoke, Rosie realised she did in fact care a great deal about Saskia. Nevertheless, ‘Did you tell her about me as she was growing up? Or did you keep quiet about your family in England?’

  ‘I told her I had another daughter who I loved very much but hadn’t seen for a long time and that I hoped one day she and you would be friends,’ Terry said quietly. ‘I realise now I was wrong not to return to Europe years ago and have the two of you meet. Get to know each other. But life, like it does, conspired to get in the way. And now it’s tied another knot in the mess of mine and Saskia’s lives.’

 

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