The Riviera

by Karen Aldous

  The sound of the woman’s chest heaved into Lizzie’s ear. Bloody cheek, I am paying for it.

  ‘I’ll take the number and try them. They may have a forwarding number or address. Oh, and could you give me the name, please?’

  Just seconds later, she had a telephone number on her pad and a name, Mr D. R. Saltwood. Her hands were shaking. It was a long shot but what if her mother’s aunt was Mrs Saltwood and she was sitting at the other end of the phone? Should she?

  Hearing a trampling of footsteps hurtling towards her, she looked up. Angus rushed in from Sophie’s consulting room next door. ‘Are you OK? I heard a scream.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, yes good, thanks. I just found something. No panic. Just a surprise.’

  Angus waved his palm ‘Grand. I thought someone was being chased by a spider.’

  She watched as he returned to the door clinging to the frame, the stance silhouetting a fine muscular structure. He was very attractive but also vaguely familiar. She wondered if she’d ever met him before. Maybe there was a subliminal meeting somewhere, a bar, an acquaintance of Anton’s. Ooh the mention of that man’s name made her squirm – even with closure.

  ‘No, no spiders but thanks for coming to the rescue.’ She would have appreciated being rescued, had there been a spider.

  ‘Oh, Angus,’ she called after him. ‘Have you got a few minutes?’

  ‘Yes, just waiting for a bit of pain to subside. The client’s, not mine. What’s up?’

  Lizzie almost laughed at his cheekiness. ‘I have a favour to ask again, I’m afraid.’

  ‘OK, I’m not green-fingered if you want your window-boxes pruned or whatever it is they do with them.’

  This time she laughed aloud. ‘No, this is definitely in your realm. Jack, Cal’s son who you met yesterday, I’m afraid you’ve made quite an impression. He would like to explore it further, as a future career. I just wanted to ask if you could give him a bit of guidance and encouragement, you know, show him what you can without breaking our code of ethics and confidentiality, naturally.’

  Angus raised his brows and produced his magic smile. ‘Brilliant. He did seem really keen. He was asking a lot of questions, I’m flattered it’s fired him up. Yes, be happy to help. I’ve got plenty of books, sketches, magazines and journals I could show him.’

  ‘Excellent, though keep to the respectable areas. He’s still only sixteen.’

  Angus gave a throaty laugh. ‘Of course. Do you know for how long, times etc?’

  ‘I’ll speak to him and let you know.’

  ‘Fine. I’d quite enjoy a bit of male company for a change. Yes. Let me know. I’d better go.’

  ‘Yes, and thank you again. Have a good weekend,’ she said, grateful he had agreed to help out so willingly.

  She swiftly spun her mind back to the telephone number before her. OK. What now? Particles of doubt began showering her. They’d probably moved years ago and the owner is going to think she’s mad. She hadn’t thought this far ahead and she had to prepare herself. So Elsie, this woman, surely wasn’t still alive? The business ceased years ago, unless it was in another name. Just dial the number and ask.

  She stared at the phone as though waiting for instruction. Then her thoughts turned to her mother. How happy would she be to know she had a cousin, and all because she, her daughter, had made a phone call?

  ‘OK.’ She dialled the number including the international dialling code.

  A female voice answered. ‘Hello?’

  Immediately, Lizzie’s mouth seized. Oh God, something felt like it was lodged in her throat. Instinctively she wanted to throw the phone back down. She hadn’t thought this through. How was she to ask? The thumping in her chest collided with her breath and nothing would come out. Her head was almost ready to explode.

  ‘Hello, oh bloody PPI, hello,’ the voice moaned.

  ‘Hello.’ Lizzie coughed bleating out the sound. ‘I…I’m sorry to trouble you. I’m looking for an Angela Fordlock?’

  ‘Oh, I thought it was going to be a recording. Hello. Phew, not heard that before, for my mum anyway. What’s this about?’

  Lizzie felt her bones reverberate and hesitated, not exactly expecting recognition of this order but more speculating. She drew in a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Why was she so bloody terrified? She was only asking a question for goodness sake. She took a deep breath.

  ‘Well, it’s rather a long story, and a little awkward. My gran had a sister who was killed during the war. We discovered among some old documents that Mum’s sister Emily had a little girl who we believe was taken from the bombsite to another family. Well-meaning of course,’ Lizzie added. ‘Mum and I are trying to find her. Her name was originally Annie Rolf but a gentleman who lived in Rhonda Grove, a street in Mile End, London, thinks her name was Angela Fordlock. He never forgot the incident you see. He would have been a child then about seven or eight, but he sent me information to say he remembers the Fordlock family finding a little girl. She had two brothers, Johnny and Jimmy.’

  ‘OK, you can stop there. You definitely have the right Fordlocks. I’m Angela’s daughter by the way. Wow, this is a surprise. Look. Can I have a chat with Mum and call you back? I take it your mum is still alive?’

  Lizzie’s heart was racing. ‘Yes, yes, very much so. I haven’t told her I’ve rung or found this number yet, so it is best if you can talk it through with your mother first. I need to make sure we have the right person, but of course it all depends on what your mum has been told.’

  ‘I’ve heard something about her being found in a pram but to be honest, I always thought my uncles were just teasing. Give me your number and I’ll call you once we’ve had a chat. We’re just off to Canterbury to shop so I won’t go raising her blood pressure now, but I’ll stay and talk to her later. Oh by the way I’m Ophelia, Pheely Saltwood.’

  ‘Thank you, that’s great, Pheely,’ Lizzie said giving her name and phone number.

  Lizzie sat back stunned. Her whole body was shaking from excitement. This seemed very, very promising. She couldn’t wait to tell her mother. Or should she surprise her? Damn, she couldn’t take time off before at least the end of May. Closing down her computer, she couldn’t help smirking silently to herself. Something was going her way for a change.

  As she left, saying her goodbyes and floating along Rue d’Antibes, she wondered what her mother’s cousin was like. Would she resemble her mother’s family? And Pheely, she didn’t sound that old which was weird. Her mother must be seventy-five. She must be a late child or a youngish voice. The prospect of meeting them both excited and scared her. Pheely sounded reasonable. She could have rejected the call, or told her she was crackpot.

  Returning to the apartment, Cal and Jack were out making the most of the streaming sunshine on the terrace and drinking cool beer. Her mouth watered at the prospect. Cal, she thought, looked quite relaxed for once. She grabbed a beer from the fridge and went out to join them.

  His sultry eyes locked onto hers as he leaped up from his seat and kissed her. ‘Hello, my sweet, I didn’t hear you come in.’

  ‘No Thierry or Marie-Claire?’ she asked.

  ‘She and her boyfriend have taken him to the park. Apparently the nursery has a Spring Fayre today,’ Cal answered.

  ‘Oh, yes, of course. I seem to be losing track of days.’ Lizzie put her beer on the terrace table and turned a chair around to face the sun. She slumped into it, stretching out her long legs. ‘I’ve just had a quick chat with Angus, Jack.’ She relayed the news, observing his face.

  His eyes brightened and it was rewarding to witness such an eager smile. ‘Cool.’

  ‘Well, decide when you want to go and I’ll let him know. The salon is closed tomorrow, obviously.’

  ‘Fantastic, Lizzie. That’s great news, thank you,’ Cal said catching her hand and squeezing it with his. ‘He’ll probably come home after an hour feeling squeamish.’

  ‘No I won’t, Dad. I know I’ll love it. Can I go Monday?’ />
  Lizzie shrugged. ‘Cal? Have you got anything planned for Monday?’ She watched as Cal glanced and ignored his vibrating phone.

  ‘No. Jack’s free to do whatever he wants to do.’

  Jack’s knees immediately began to bounce. ‘Oh, I can’t wait.’

  ‘Jack even told me he liked the idea of learning French whilst he’s here in the summer.’

  Lizzie produced a proud grin. Triumph was certainly becoming the order of the day, she thought.

  ‘Such a great way to learn it, Jack. Just one day or two days a week for six to eight weeks and you’ll be surprised how quickly you will become fluent.’

  ‘Can I ring Mom, Dad?’

  ‘Yes, or text her to Skype,’ Cal said, appearing to clear messages from his phone and passing it to his son. ‘I’m sure some good news will cheer her up.’

  As Jack took the phone, Lizzie rang Josephine at the office to organise it all with Angus and inform the staff.

  She placed her phone back on the table and took a long swig of beer from the small bottle, enjoying the cooling breeze now hitting her face with the sun. Jack got up and announced he was going to his room to Skype Kelly.

  ‘Who was calling?’ Lizzie asked.

  Cal’s eyes followed Jack as he walked through the living room. ‘It was Kelly. She probably wants to speak to him anyway.’

  Lizzie decided she was going to blot Kelly out of her system, well try anyway.

  ‘I have some more exciting news too. Well, for me and Mum.’ She clasped Cal’s knee as his son disappeared inside. ‘I’ve found her aunt, I think.’

  ‘You have been a busy Lizzie haven’t you? Come on, do tell,’ Cal mocked, watching her hand tease his leg.

  Lizzie pressed down towards his thigh. ‘Things falling into place more like. Let’s hope things are on the up.’

  ‘Oh, I think you could safely say that,’ he said. ‘Come on tell me, I need distracting.’

  As she spoke about her conversation with Pheely, Lizzie continued with her torment.

  Cal took her hand. ‘I think we need to Skype in our room. Come along, it’s time I kept you busy, Lizzie.’

  Chapter 20

  The following morning, after what resulted in a fun night of fresh pizza at La Pizziaola, Thierry’s favourite, they set off for a trip to Monaco at Jack’s request. He wanted to visit the famous Casino and see with his own eyes the iconic F1 hairpin bend, the tunnel and harbour he had seen every year on TV. Being a racing fan, he naturally considered Monaco the ultimate grand prix track.

  Lizzie did warn him that although they could very likely be setting up seating and staging for the big event, there was very little atmosphere like he was likely to watch on TV. And Jack agreed. When they walked the tunnel and approached the harbour, the area appeared tragically bare of crowds. Jack did take lots of shots to take home though and Cal took some photos of him standing on the hairpin. After stopping briefly near the harbour for a drink, it was Lizzie’s turn to choose the location for lunch.

  Cal drove up winding roads among steep gorges to the spectacular medieval town of Saint-Paul-de-Vence. Previously, Lizzie had only eaten there in the dark and mountain mist, so she delighted in the beauty of the panorama Le Tilleul terrace offered. Within the ramparts of this pretty hillside town, the restaurant provided lunches for all tastes and, under the dappled shade of the linden, Lizzie was just so happy everyone was relaxed.

  Sipping cool rosé wine helped as she sank into the pleasant mood, and Cal took her hand blotting out her senses. This was perfection personified, she thought, then suddenly became aware her phone was ringing. Struggling to retrieve it from her bag, she missed the call but immediately, recognising the number, she called straight back.

  ‘Hello, Lizzie, I was going to leave a message but thought I’d try you again.’

  ‘Pheely, so pleased to hear from you.’ Lizzie’s heart was thumping wildly beneath her smooth tone. ‘How did your mother take the news?’

  ‘Oh, unbelievable. Well, she wondered what the hell I was talking about to begin with. But, yes, once I explained it better, she was in tears. Bless her, she said to me she had often wondered who her real family were and if any of them survived. Naturally she thought they’d all died in the same bomb and that was why she was adopted, so, she is so excited. She can’t wait to hear all about her family and meet your mum. And you, of course.’

  Lizzie sighed, feeling tears spill from her eyes, then glancing at Cal who was checking his phone, she wanted to scream with joy. There was so much more she wanted to find out too.

  ‘Oh that’s great news. We have so many questions, as I’m sure you two have too. We’ll have to sort out some dates to get them together. I’d love to organise something in the next week or two but I’m not going to get time until the end of May, June.’

  ‘To be honest, neither am I. I’ve booked off the first week in June because I’m taking Mum down to the south of France for her seventy-fifth birthday. Maybe a weekend would be better. Where are you two living?’

  Lizzie’s heart did a flutter. ‘Well, my mum is in Kent, but I’m down in Cannes. That would be perfect if you’re both travelling this way. If you’re both down here, I can arrange for Mum to come too. Have you got an email address? We can swop details and…’

  ‘Really, oh, what luck. Yes, great. Perfect in fact. Thank you so much for making this happen.’

  Lizzie promptly dug into her bag for a pen and her diary. She took down Pheely’s email and read it back. ‘I don’t think Mum has anything planned, but if she does I’ll let you know. Be in touch.’

  ‘Wow, this is surreal,’ Lizzie said hitting the end button on her phone and placing it on top of her diary on the table. ‘They’re coming down here in June. How weird is that? Good weird of course. I can’t wait to meet them. And, Mum will be… Oh, I have to make it a surprise.’

  Cal reached out for her hand. ‘I still can’t believe how easily you found her. What were the odds of you finding someone whose name you didn’t even know a few weeks ago?’

  ‘I know, amazing isn’t it? And Pheely sounds so lovely, so down to earth. Must be the East End in her.’ Lizzie squeezed his hand.

  ‘And we’ll be back then,’ Jack added. ‘Will you need space at the apartment?’

  ‘Oh, no, we’ll sort something out. I’m sure they’ve already booked something, and Mum and Michael could stay with Sophie. I’ll speak to Mum later. Jeez, last year it was just me and Thierry, look how much our family has grown.’ She wiped a cheek.

  Cal raised a hand and swept a finger across her other. ‘It’s great Lizzie, it really is. So, Pheely is your second cousin?’

  ‘Blimey, I haven’t worked that one out yet,’ she laughed.

  Despite her head floating on cloud nine, all too soon the next week rushed by and Lizzie was dreading the following day when Cal and Jack would have to leave. She knew that Kelly had been texting Cal but he was ignoring her. It was such bad luck his son had to go back to do his exams. He was really making progress. Jack’s zest for cosmetic surgery spilled over and splashed everyone around him after spending time at the salon with Angus. For five days he’d immersed himself with his new-found passion, Angus advising him along the way on the best courses and recommending he come to the South of France. What amused Lizzie and Cal was, he was even persuaded to have a grooming treatment by Philip, one of the newer salon consultants and, Jack admitted coyly, he didn’t look girly. He’d also loved his shorter hair which Aimée cut and styled with spikes, gelled at the top.

  The added bonus for Lizzie was it gave her and Cal opportunities throughout the week to make the most of their time alone. Cal even managed time with Thierry which Lizzie knew he had missed when Jack was around. It was heartening that in just twelve days Jack had become so infused, certainly with his career plans, all they could hope now was that nothing influenced him to jeopardise his new determination. She just prayed for Cal’s sake he would change his mind about moving to London. Lizzie sensed Cal
was becoming increasingly anxious about returning to Nantucket and getting him back to school. And Jack was yet to find out about Kelly and Reuben’s deteriorating marriage. How would he react to that information? Lizzie really didn’t wish to spoil the mood for their last evening so tried to brush her concerns aside. There would be plenty of time to dwell on them after they’d gone. No, Lizzie, you won’t dwell on them. She promised herself there and then she would be totally adult about this. In fact, she had plenty to fill her time what with the salon being busy, and now that she’d spoken to her mother to arrange her trip to Cannes.

  Deciding to keep her discovery a secret until June, she had arranged for Caroline and Michael to come down to Cannes a few days before Annie, or ‘Angela’ she would have to remember to call her, and Pheely. However, she would need to be careful whenever she spoke to her mother; she wasn’t good with secrets.

  For Cal and Jack’s last day, Lizzie arranged a special dinner. She had invited Rose, Marie-Claire and her boyfriend, Cal’s friend Jes and Annatia, his girlfriend, and Angus, now considered a good friend of Jack’s. She collected Rose, bringing her back to her apartment before for drinks and they then took the walk down to Rue du Commandant André to an Italian restaurant she and Cal favoured, La Libera.

  ‘What a shame Sophie and Charles are still away,’ Lizzie said placing Thierry between herself and Rose.

  ‘Yes, disappointing,’ Cal agreed. ‘Would have been nice to see them before I go.’

  Jack sat between Marie-Claire and Angus. ‘I like Charles,’ he said, ‘he is so dry. He’s cool.’

  ‘Sophie’s amazing too,’ Angus said. ‘Such a talented lady. You must ask her to show you some of her work too, Jack.’

  ‘I will when we get back.’ Jack’s voice was again spurting with passion. ‘My mom was really pleased when I told her. She said she ought to come and meet you herself. Don’t worry, she’s just a bit of a control freak and I don’t want her following me here.’

  ‘Where does your mum live?’

  ‘Nantucket, an island close to Martha’s Vineyard.’