Page 42 of When We Were Friends
‘Bonjour Mesdames.’
‘Bonjour, parlez-vous anglais?’ asked Morgan.
The man in his fifties, with short, grey hair, tanned, lean, in a striped shirt and shorts, bowed his head. ‘Of course. Millions of tourists visit the south of France every year. No English would make my life difficult. How can I help?’
‘Is Hugo in today, please?’ Morgan squeezed the words out. The man frowned. She pointed to the photo on the wall. Tiff and Emily were already there, staring, while Paige was pacing up and down. ‘Hugo Black. He’s older now. A former neighbour of his said he worked here. Or is he at one of your other shops?’
‘Ah, yes! What a much-loved member of staff, so charming with the customers. Sales went up whenever he was in.’
Morgan wished Paige would stand still.
‘I’m sorry but Hugo and I have lost touch,’ he said.
‘He doesn’t work here any longer?’ Was this the universe warning Morgan off once more? Emily and Tiff shot her sympathetic glances. ‘When did he leave?’
‘Let’s see… 2014, the February, that’s right, just after a terrible storm in Brittany. The woman who replaced Hugo came from there, she’d only been in the job one week. We were all so shocked when we saw it on the news, but I remember how especially upset she was.’
‘Right…’ Morgan didn’t know whether she felt disappointed or relieved. She wanted to see Hugo again. She didn’t.
‘Did he get another job in the area?’ asked Morgan.
The man rubbed his forehead. ‘You are good friends of his,oui?’
‘Not exactly… we went to school with him, and… he’s my son’s father,’ she replied. ‘It’s complicated.’
‘Isn’t love always?’ he said and folded his arms. ‘I don’t know if I should share—’
‘This is a wonderful shop,’ exclaimed Emily. ‘The breaking wave mural is fantastic and it’s really customer friendly, the way you’ve set out all the products. The free coffee machine is genius too, gives it a really homely atmosphere. Hugo must have been reluctant to leave this oasis.’
‘That’s very kind,’ said the man, chest puffed out as if he’d surfed the highest wave ever. ‘It’s my life’s work. I put a lot of time into choosing the decor and floor design. Hugo helped me refresh it before he left.’
‘Wouldn’t it be great to know where Hugo is, and that he’s okay?’ said Tiff. ‘You must have been curious over the years. I would have been.’
‘It’s true. I’ve Googled his name and looked on social media, but nothing has ever come up. He was never on Facebook or Instagram when he worked here. We talked about it once. Hugo enjoyed scrolling as much as anyone else, and was excellent at keeping the company’s platforms up to date, but said he didn’t feel comfortable posting private stuff. I didn’t like to ask why. So anything could have happened to him since he left here. I have no idea.’
Morgan held onto the glass counter by the till. For the first time, she considered the possibility that Hugo might have died. Despite everything, she didn’t wish him ill and Olly would never forgive her if it was too late to meet his father.
‘I did wonder if he was in trouble,’ said the man and he rubbed one arm. ‘He left very quickly, you see. Came to me in a hurry, one morning. Said…’ A conflicted expression crossed his face. The man stopped talking and looked at the photo frame.
‘Please, go on,’ said Morgan. ‘We’ve come a long way to find him. It’s important not only to me, but to Hugo too. He doesn’t know he’s a father.’
‘Bon… okay… Hugo said… someone was after him and he had to move away from the area immediately. Hugo was upset – and angry, but wouldn’t explain. I worried, if this person or people found him, it could turn nasty, if this was the reason he’d never posted anything about himself online. I gave him a month’s pay upfront. At first he refused but I insisted.’
‘Any idea where he went?’ asked Tiff.
The man scratched the stubble on his chin. ‘He gave me no details but might have taken up this job offer he got. A few weeks earlier, an English tourist came in who ran a sea sports school in England, at one of the top surfing destinations on the north Cornwall coast. He’d seen Hugo out on the waves. He owned a seaside activities business and wanted Hugo to work there. His was based in a prime location, not far from a big International Surfing Centre. He was keen to build his brand and turn it into a solid competitor. However, Hugo adored the Fréjus area, our Riviera lifestyle. This tourist made him take his number, nevertheless, told him to get in touch if he wanted more money and career prospects. I practically pushed the man out of the door at that point.’ The shop owner smiled. ‘On the way out, he listed the water sports they taught –kayaking, canoeing, paddleboarding, beach volleyball as well and they had an outdoor gym. Hugo was a bright young man. If he really needed to get away, it’s possible he went there, to broaden his skill set. I could tell he was interested.’
‘Where exactly was the man’s business?’ asked Morgan.
‘The name of the beach sounded like our famous mistral wind…’ said the man.
Tiff and Emily searched online, Paige looking over their shoulders.
‘Fistral Beach, Newquay. It must be that,’ said Emily and pointed to her phone’s screen. She scrolled for several minutes. ‘Yes, there’s a big international surfing school there and… nearby, this must be it, a smaller school called Ocean Activity Centre. It offers all those water sports you mentioned. There’s also a couple of smaller schools that just teach surfing.’
They thanked the man and booked a taxi. With the owner’s permission, Morgan took a snap of the photo on the wall. Paige was quiet on the way back to the villa, in the taxi, and Morgan passed over her bottle of water. Paige drank it back greedily, said she’d not slept well and that it was catching up with her, but that she’d be fine after something to eat and a rest. The other three made sandwiches, insisting Paige take it easy. They talked about how keen Delphine and the surf shop owner had been to pass on their best to Hugo. But then he always had been charismatic. After lunch, they sat around the pool. Morgan talked about her job and how challenging dealing with customers had become over the last couple of years.
‘Customers can be annoying at the best of times,’ continued Morgan. ‘Guess how many times one rolls up with a full trolley and says, “I only came in for one item”? I’m expected to laugheverytime.’ The others chuckled as Morgan pulled a face.
