Page 23 of A Riviera Retreat
‘Aren’t these beautiful? Since I’ve been using Olivia’s pans, I’ve realised just how good they are to cook with. I’m going to have to get some, but not today,’ Chelsea said regretfully before turning to Matilda. ‘Shall we find somewhere for lunch?’
‘I know just the place,’ Matilda said. ‘The Terrace Restaurant at the Carlton. Come on.’
‘Wow. Really? It’s expensive there, isn’t it?’
Ten minutes later, they were sat at a table for two and being handed glasses of sparkling rosé to sip while they looked at menus.
‘I know it’s none of my business, but have you spoken to your father?’ Matilda said, glancing at Chelsea. ‘He sounded very concerned in that voice message.’
‘He does worry about me.’ Chelsea sighed before she added quietly, ‘Especially since it’s been just the two of us.’ Her voice died away before she smiled brightly at Matilda. ‘I did ring him and we’re good. Planning a get-together when I get home.’
‘That’s good. The father-daughter relationship can be special. I know William would have loved a daughter after we had Josh, but it never happened. Now, what would you like to eat? I can see our waiter returning.’
Chelsea’s cryptic ‘just the two of us’ remark left Matilda wondering about her mother. The mother that she had failed to mention so far, which could mean a number of things. But Matilda wasn’t one to probe. Everyone was entitled to keep their secrets – especially if they were painful ones.
* * *
Chelsea sipped her wine and looked around. She’d never have ventured in here on her own. It was the kind of place her dad liked to eat at and was a real glimpse of how the other half lived in Cannes.
The terrace was full of people. Some were clearly holidaymakers enjoying a treat, a few businessmen and women, with phones switched to silence but placed on the table ready to be picked up instantly, were seated at various tables. Chelsea’s attention was caught by three women sitting at a table in the corner of the terrace. ‘Ladies who lunch’ she decided, smiling as she saw a small dog poke its head out of a large tote its owner had placed on the floor beside her.
‘You’re spoiling me, treating me to lunch here,’ she said to Matilda. ‘It’s the kind of place my dad would love. He used to come to the South of France a lot – I suspect he would have eaten here in the past. I’ll have to ask him when I get back.’ Instantly, she regretted bringing her father back into the conversation as she sensed that Matilda was waiting for her to say more. ‘Have you been here before?’ she asked quickly.
‘Years ago – it’s different to how I remember it,’ Matilda replied. ‘It’s had a makeover and feels even more glitzy than it did back then. I thought, as you cook for a living, you’d like the cordon-bleu food they do here.’
‘It’s a real treat,’ Chelsea said, smiling. ‘Your blue jacket would ace it here. Oh. I’m not sure, but I think Eddie Redmayne is being shown to a table.’ She shook her head. ‘Nah. It’s probably someone who looks like him.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ Matilda said. ‘There are already a couple of famous people in here. Probably more famous to my generation than yours though.’
‘Do tell. Who?’
‘Well,’ Matilda leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘See those three women over there?’ She threw a quick glance at the table where Chelsea had seen the dog in the tote bag. ‘The older blonde is an actress who made her name in a well-known children’s film years ago. And the two men and woman over there – the man on the right is a well-known French TV news presenter, Jean-Pierre… sorry, I forget his surname.’ Matilda stopped speaking, an expression of shock on her face as she stared across the restaurant for a couple of seconds.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘The man with him is Amy’s husband, Kevin.’ Matilda said flatly. ‘The woman is different to the one we saw him with in Monaco, so she’s probably Jean-Pierre’s companion.’ Matilda sighed. ‘I do hope he doesn’t recognise us.’
‘Doesn’t matter if he does. I’m glad Amy isn’t with us though,’ Chelsea said, before taking a sip of her wine and looking at the group over the rim of the glass.
The waiter arrived with their food and for several moments they both concentrated on eating.
‘This magret of duck is delicious,’ Chelsea said once she’d taken the edge off her appetite. ‘How’s your monkfish?’
‘Wonderful,’ Matilda answered, reaching for the glass of Soave white wine she’d ordered to accompany it.
Matilda was clearly used to the finer things in life, Chelsea decided as she watched her.
‘That property magazine you picked up? Just daydreaming or are you seriously thinking of moving down here?’
Matilda sighed. ‘To be honest, I’m in a bit of a “bugger’s muddle” and I’m not sure what to do for the best.’ She smiled at Chelsea. ‘One moment a cottage with a garden in the countryside, the Cotswolds or the Forest of Dean, appeals. The next, I can imagine enjoying life down here in the sunshine. William and I always planned to move to France when he retired. Sadly, he never got the chance to retire.’
Matilda fell silent for a few seconds and twirled her wine around in the glass before smiling at Chelsea.
‘Regrets in life are inevitable, but regrets over not doing something and years later wishing you had are avoidable – you simply have to take a deep breath and get on with whatever opportunity presents itself.’
‘Have you thought like that all your life?’ Chelsea asked.
‘No. It was William’s influence. He was an impulsive man.’ Matilda smiled. ‘Given to see opportunity and fun everywhere. Unlike me.’ She took a sip of her wine. ‘Of course, those decisions sometimes bring their own regrets, especially the older you get, but at least they’re regrets that prove you’ve lived rather than just existed.’
