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In the lull between closing the restaurant after lunch and reopening for dinner, Rosie sat at one of the tables with her laptop, planning to try and catch up with some of the restaurant paperwork – being French, it was breeding at an alarming rate. Lucky lay across her feet sleeping. Nobody had come looking for the dog and she’d shown no inclination to wander off. Stretching her hand down to fondle her ears, Rosie whispered, ‘I guess it’s you and me from now on.’
Rosie smiled to herself as she heard the Café Fleur advertisement play on Riviera Radio. Fingers crossed it was worth it and would bring more people down to the beach. She must try to remember to ask people where they’d heard about the Café Fleur when they booked. See if the ad was worth the money.
At six o’clock Rosie left Tansy preparing a tomato and mozzarella salad and went through to the restaurant to make sure everything was in order ‘front of house’ for the evening. She enjoyed this side of things – meeting and greeting her customers. After years of working in a galley hidden from view onboard the yachts, it was a welcome change.
Antoine’s table for two had been joined by another three bookings. She and Tansy would manage just fine – they were used to cooking and serving dinner for up to sixteen guests on A Sure Thing. They’d even cope if there were some unexpected customers off the beach. Though how she’d cope if Charlie came with Antoine she refused to even contemplate.
As she lit some table candles, Rosie glanced out through the windows. Shame it was still too cold to eat out on the terrace in the evenings. She was looking forward to the long summer evenings when the place would be full of people enjoying her food. Maybe next year she’d be able to invest in some of those outdoor gas heaters.
Rosie glanced at her watch. Antoine was late. Charlie’s fault? He was a terrible time-keeper. When Antoine did finally arrive, accompanied by a fellow yacht skipper, Rosie felt the tension leaving her body and succumbed happily to a bearlike hug. No Charlie to spoil the evening.
By the time Antoine had been out to the kitchen to see Tansy and decided they all needed glasses of champagne, the guests for the other tables had arrived. For the next hour or two things were busy and Rosie had very little chance to talk to Antoine.
As she handed him his favourite dessert, he said, ‘James not working tonight?’
‘I can’t afford him every day. Wish I could,’ Rosie said. ‘I meant to thank you, too, for sending him my way.’
Antoine shook his head. ‘Not me.’
‘But James told me what you said about me.’
‘He asked my opinion, that’s all.’ Antoine looked at his dacquoise. ‘I wish you’d tell our new chef how to make this. Her dessert dishes aren’t a patch on yours. How am I going to survive next week’s trip to Sardinia without a decent dessert?’
‘You’re off to Sardinia?’ Rosie asked, delighted to know Charlie wouldn’t be around for a few weeks. No chance of him popping uninvited into the Café Fleur.
‘William wants Charlie to spend a couple of days over there with him. He reckons there’s a good business opportunity over there.’ Antoine glanced at Rosie. ‘Talking of Charlie – he sends his love.’
‘Does he?’ Rosie said. ‘That’s nice.’ A sudden thought struck her. ‘He knows about this place? That you’re here tonight? Oh, Antoine, you promised.’
Antoine held his hands up in defence. ‘I didn’t tell him. But hell, Rosie, out of season it’s like a village down here. Everyone knows what everyone else is up to. And you’ve advertised on the radio. You can’t seriously have expected him not to put two and two together.’
Rosie sighed. ‘I suppose not. At least he’ll be out of the way for a few weeks in Sardinia.’
***
Busy serving customers out on the terrace Friday lunchtime, Rosie smiled in welcome as Erica and Cammie arrived. She’d liked Erica the moment GeeGee had introduced them, sensing a kindred spirit behind Erica’s quiet demeanour. Erica had been back to the beach several times since then, both with and without Cammie, and was turning into a real friend rather than just a customer.
‘Hello, you two,’ Rosie said. ‘You’re just in time for the last table. Not sure why we’re quite so busy today. I think people must have the weekend feeling early.’ She quickly wrote down their lunch order and returned to the kitchen.
Ten minutes later, taking Erica and Cammie’s croque monsieurs out to them, Rosie smiled. Cammie was playing with Lucky and squealing with delight.
‘I’ll be pestered even more now to get a dog,’ Erica said. ‘Still it’s good to see Cammie laughing.’
‘I haven’t seen GeeGee for a few days,’ Rosie said, stopping briefly to chat. ‘Do you know if she’s all right?’
‘I expect she’s busy with clients,’ Erica said. ‘The property market usually picks up as the summer gets underway.’
‘There’s definitely more people around this week,’ Rosie said. ‘Enjoy your lunch.’ And she made her way back to the kitchen.
When James stopped by for a coffee, Rosie asked him to stay and work for a couple of hours and also to work at the weekend. ‘I’ll even pay you this time,’ she promised.
Later that day, an exhausted Rosie thoughtfully stroked Lucky. Would she make a guard dog? There had been a couple of dodgy-looking young men buying stuff from the takeaway this morning – portion of chips each, then ten minutes later one would come for a drink, followed in five minutes by the second one. When they returned for a third time for one flapjack, Rosie, remembering Seb’s mention of last season’s drug bust, began to seriously wonder if they were casing the place. Having a dog around might be a good idea.
Lucky had been no trouble during the day; in fact she’d shown every sign of settling in, wagging her tail as she greeted customers on the terrace, as well as playing happily with Cammie and any other child who happened to be around.
Saturday evening there were several reservations and even some casual passing-by trade. When the last couple walked in at half past nine, Rosie knew it was going to be a late night. It was James who stayed to help Rosie clear up when Tansy left to go clubbing with Rob at nearly midnight.
‘Are you ready to party next door, then?’ James said.
Rosie shook her head. ‘I’m way too tired. If you want the invite, you take it.’
‘I’ve got one of my own, thanks,’James said. ‘My new stepbrother is a friend of Seb and wangled me one.’ He shrugged his shoulders into his denim jacket. ‘D’you want me to stay while you lock up?’
‘No, you get off. And thanks for your help. See you in the morning,’ Rosie said.
As James left, a blast of music drifted over in the air from the hotel. The party was clearly going strong. Lucky was curled up outside on the terrace and thumped her tail as she saw Rosie before getting up and wandering over to her.
‘You ready for supper?’ she said, bending down to gently stroke the dog.
The dog lifted her head from the bowl of minced meat that Rosie had put down for her on the kitchen floor and growled as there was a knock on the door before Seb entered.
Tonight, dressed in smart black jeans and a crisp white shirt, a single woven leather bracelet on his right wrist, he was less of a drifter, more of a suave party animal. Even his hair had been subdued into behaving.
‘Nice dog. Is she yours?’
‘Yes. She turned up a couple of days ago and nobody seems to want her so I’m keeping her. I’ve always wanted a dog. I’ve called her Lucky,’ she said, glancing at Seb. ‘I’m hoping she’ll be my good luck mascot as well as a deterrent.’
Seb raised his eyebrows.
‘There were a couple of scruffy men – boys, really – hanging around earlier,’ Rosie said. ‘Probably perfectly innocent but…’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at your party?’
‘I’ve come to collect you. Your champagne awaits.’
‘Seb, I’m sorry but I’ve had a busy evening. I’m tired – besides I’m not dressed for a posh party.’ She glanced down at her smart, but plain, little black dress.
‘You look fine to me,’ Seb said. ‘Maybe comb your hair. Bit of lipstick. Come on, Rosie. Just the one glass. There are a few people over there who could be potential customers. Come and do a bit of networking.’
Rosie looked at him dubiously. ‘You keep telling me, we’re aiming for different parts of the market.’
‘They might want to slum it one evening,’ Seb said.
Rosie gasped at his cheek before seeing a smile twitch his lips and realising he was joking. A bad joke but a joke nevertheless. Maybe she should go. He had, after all, taken the trouble to come and find her. It was just a drink with a neighbour. Be churlish not to go.
‘OK. One glass,’ Rosie said. ‘Then I’m really going home to bed. It’s been a long week.’
‘You can bring Lucky if you want,’ Seb said.
‘No. I’m not sure how she’ll behave,’ Rosie said. ‘She can stay on her blanket in the restaurant. I’ll come back for her after I’ve had that glass of champagne.’
The party was in the conservatory Rosie had spied from the studio room upstairs and was packed to overflowing. Sipping the champagne Seb had poured for her while he went to fetch some nibbles, she looked around.
Seb was obviously well connected. There were a few, if not exactly famous, then certainly well-known, Riviera faces and a couple of minor A-list celebrities she recognised. And GeeGee was here, too, Rosie was pleased to see. She raised her glass in her direction when she saw her glance across, but before she could make her way over to her James appeared at her side.
‘Seb changed your mind then?’
Rosie nodded. ‘Just having a quick glass. So, which is your stepbrother out of this crowd?’
‘He’s… over there,’James said turning to look around the room. ‘You should recognise him.’
‘Why should I?’ Rosie said as she followed his gaze. ‘Oh.’
‘How long has he been your stepbrother?’
‘My mum married his dad a month ago. Oh, he’s seen us. He’s coming over.’
‘Rosie. How lovely to see you. I do miss not having you onboard. How’s the Café Fleur going?’ And Charlie leant forward to kiss her cheek. He sighed as Rosie averted her face and he kissed air.
‘What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on your way to Sardinia.’
‘We’re leaving at the crack of dawn Monday. I hope James is behaving himself and being useful?’
Rosie stared at Charlie as realisation dawned. ‘You sent him, didn’t you? To spy on me!’
‘To help, Rosie. To help.’
Furious, Rosie turned to James. ‘You’re fired. I’m leaving. Goodbye.’
Rosie was still fuming when she got into bed that night. As far as she was concerned, sending James to spy on her was a step too far even for Charlie the control freak. Furious didn’t start to describe her feelings that, after all these years, he expected her to like having him back in her life.
If she’d had any sense she’d have walked off A Sure Thing the moment she’d heard the name of the new owners fourteen months ago . Unfortunately, there’d still been a year of her contract to go and the agency had refused to release her even when she’d begged them to let her go. So she’d thought of the money and prepared to be a good employee until she could legitimately take her money and run.
She’d been busy preparing a lobster for dinner the first time Charlie had strolled into the galley and asked for another bottle of champagne to be sent up to the aft deck. If it hadn’t been such a standstill moment, Rosie would have laughed out loud at the look on his face when he saw her. As it was she just said, ‘Right away, sir.’
She’d genuinely believed him when he’d sworn he didn’t know she was the chef onboard until the moment he walked into the galley. When he learnt that she’d known the name of the new owner and had chosen to stay on, he decided it was because she wanted to see him again.
‘Believe me, Charlie, I’d have left if I could. I had no choice – the agency insisted I honour my contract. But don’t worry – I have no intention of renewing it. Once it finishes, I’m off.’ Even as she’d said the words she could see he didn’t believe her.
The more Rosie protested, the more determined he became that their youthful relationship should be revived and given another chance. Rosie was equally determined against it. So, during the season she made sure she was always too busy to take more than the occasional day off and then she made sure there was no chance of Charlie being around, insisting they spend it together.
Out of season, when Rosie lived ashore, it had been more difficult to keep her life separate from Charlie’s. She had hoped the evening in The Recluse, when they’d had what she’d hoped would be the row to end all rows, would bring Charlie to his senses. Make him give up and go find himself a proper girlfriend.
No such luck. The moment he heard the agency were sending a replacement chef for William to interview, he redoubled his efforts to try and stop her. Telling him ‘no’ and leaving the yacht had failed to get the message across that she could never forgive him for letting her down all those years ago in college. He didn’t seem to understand how his action all those years ago had changed the course of her life.
Turning out the bedside light, Rosie sighed. How the hell was she going to get him to butt out of her life once and for all?
CHAPTER NINE (#ulink_07e6cb6d-a7f6-5447-8116-71759975baa7)
Erica took her cup of coffee up to the roof terrace of the townhouse she and Pascal had bought before they were married. Early Sunday morning and the remains of a light mist hanging over the town were giving way to the sun.
She and Pascal had loved to sit up here together in the evening, sipping a glass of wine, happy to be spending time with each other. She’d barely been up here recently. She’d got used to the rest of the house feeling empty and lonely without Pascal around but the roof terrace had been a special place. Up here the memories were still raw. Even now, all these months later, she had to fight back the tears.
Facing inland away from the coast, the terrace had a view out over red-roofed villas and their swimming pools, stretching away in the distance to the boundaries of the town before merging into the beginning of the hinterland Provençal countryside. Pascal had fixed a low trellis around the three walls and between them they’d created a small, perfumed oasis where the two of them had relaxed and entertained friends.
Looking at the trellis now, with its rampant passion flower and honeysuckle tangled together, Erica realised how much she’d neglected things up here. Her beloved Italian glazed pots, too, were full of weeds strangling the spring flowers that had poked their way through.
Pulling a few weeds out from under the honeysuckle, Erica decided she and Cammie would do some pruning and tidy things up later. Get ready for eating al fresco in summer – their first proper summer without Pascal.
Besides, if she was serious about selling the house, it would need sprucing up. This morning, though, she’d promised Cammie they’d go to the vide grenier being held in the huge car park on the edge of the beach.
Erica smiled to herself. Cammie was as much a magpie for ‘treasure’ as she herself was and was already developing a good eye for what was rubbish and what was good in among all the tat that was always on offer.
As Erica pulled weeds out of the pot containing her favourite rose, the church bell tolling for eight o’clock Mass broke into her thoughts. Cammie’s Sunday morning alarm. Time to go back downstairs and prepare for the day and the long walk to the vide grenier. Erica sighed.
Ever since the accident, Cammie had refused to get in a car; had screamed and shaken violently on the couple of occasions Erica had tried to force the issue.
All these months later and they were still either walking or catching the train or bus to wherever they needed to go, with Cammie showing no sign of losing her phobia over cars. This morning, with no convenient train or bus going in the right direction, walking was the only option.
An hour later they set off, Cammie pulling the empty wheely shopping bag behind her and Erica lost in her thoughts about the past and what the future would bring them. By the time they reached the vide grenier it was in full swing with people jostling around the hundred or so stalls.
‘Right, young lady, you know the drill. You stick close to me and no wandering off,’ Erica said. ‘But in case we do get separated, you don’t talk to strangers and you come and stand by the entrance here and wait. Understood?’ Erica looked at Cammie intently as she waited for her answer.
Cammie nodded. ‘I promise. I won’t wander.’
Erica took charge of the shopping trolley and together they began to explore the various rows with their laden tables. Buying bits and pieces here and there, Erica carefully placed their purchases in the bag before they stopped in front of a stall devoted to art nouveau collectibles.
So much stuff here that would be good in the shop, but Erica was drawn to a magnificent, stained, leaded-glass table lamp. Never mind about putting it in the shop, she’d love it for herself. Too big and precious to be put in the shopping bag, it was also too cumbersome for her to carry all the way home. She glanced at the woman behind the stall. ‘Any chance you could deliver this for me later today?’
The woman shook her head. ‘No can do, sorry. We’ve got a tight schedule today. We’ve got to get down to St Tropez for an evening sale when we leave here.’
Erica turned away and caught Cammie by the hand. ‘Fancy getting a taxi home later?’ She knew the answer before she asked the question really.
The quick withdrawal of her hand and the shuttered look that came down over Cammie’s face confirmed it.
‘Never mind,’ Erica said quickly. ‘It doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s explore the next row.’
To her relief, Cammie for once was easily distracted and was soon engrossed in looking at a table of children’s books and toys and surplus ornaments – including a foot-high pottery lighthouse the base of which was badly chipped. When Erica pointed this out, Cammie said, ‘It doesn’t matter because it’s not “treasure”. I just want it for my beach project.’
‘Wasting your pocket money again, Cammie?’ a voice behind them said, and Erica turned to see GeeGee standing there, a big grin on her face as she gave Erica a hug.
‘You’re thinner than ever,’ Erica said now as she returned the hug. Rosie mentioning she hadn’t seen GeeGee for a few days should have rung alarm bells in her mind. She knew GeeGee skipped meals when commissions dried up and money was tight.
‘How’s things?’
GeeGee shrugged. ‘Things are so-so.’
‘Want to come back with us for lunch?’ Erica said. ‘And before you say no, I could do with talking to you.’
‘Lunch would be great.’
