Page 24 of A Riviera Retreat
Chelsea looked at Matilda thoughtfully. ‘Can we keep in touch when we go home, please?’
‘Of course,’ Matilda said, looking startled at Chelsea’s words. ‘I’d like that.’
* * *
Vicky closed her laptop down with a sigh. Two thousand words written this morning and her body was stiff with sitting. Still, it had been a productive few hours and she felt happy with the result. She stood up and stretched, trying to loosen the knot in her neck with a couple of head swivels.
She’d heard the other two going off earlier with Pierre and wondered how they were enjoying their foray into the shops. She rather wished she’d gone with them, but then she wouldn’t have written a new chapter of her novel. Besides, Chelsea buying that particular gossip magazine had unnerved her somewhat. She’d hoped to get to know her new friends as Vicky Lewis, but here she was starting to do exactly what she’d done for the last ten years as an MP’s wife – holding people at arm’s length. Vicky sighed. She’d go to Antibes with everyone and get to know them a bit better.
Amy was at the kitchen table filling a small baguette with salad and some prosciutto when Vicky walked in. ‘Hi, just the two of us today for lunch. Shall we keep each other company?’
‘Good idea. I think I’ll join you with a salad baguette,’ Vicky said, looking at Amy and registering how tired she looked. ‘You okay?’
‘Bit tired. D’you want to eat in or out?’
‘Oh, out,’ Vicky said. ‘It’s such a treat eating outside every day.’
While Vicky made her lunch, Amy opened a bottle of wine and took it and two glasses out to the terrace.
‘How’s the writing going?’ she asked as Vicky sat down.
‘Fits and starts really. One day everything flows – like today. The next, I look at the utter drivel I’ve written and know I haven’t got what it takes to be a writer and I should just forget it. But today I feel I can do it. Cheers,’ Vicky said, raising her glass in Amy’s direction. ‘Oh, and by the way, I killed off Kevin this morning in chapter three, so no more worries from that direction.’
‘If only,’ Amy said, laughing. ‘But thank you for the thought.’
Vicky had almost finished her baguette before she glanced at Amy. ‘Has Chelsea said anything to you about me?’
‘No. Any reason why she would?’
‘She bought an out-of-date copy of an English celebrity magazine and there is a picture of me with my husband attending a parliamentary dinner in it.’ Vicky managed to laugh. ‘I’m hoping the woman in the photograph looks so different to me, the Vicky Lewis you all know, as to be unrecognisable.’
‘Does it matter if she does recognise you?’ Amy asked.
Vicky shook her head. ‘Not really. It’s just that I wanted to stay incognito for a little while longer. Get everyone to know me as me.’ Vicky glanced at Amy. ‘I’d never planned on being married to a politician. It’s a bit like living on a merry-go-round in a goldfish bowl at times.’
Amy laughed. ‘I can imagine.’
‘The worse of it is that being a politician’s wife, I seem to have lost myself along the way – buried under all the trappings that Anthony’s chosen profession have piled on me.’ She finished the glass of wine Amy had poured her before saying quietly, ‘Anthony has upset a few of his fellow MPs, not to mention his constituents, with his directness and what some people regard as radical ideas. Because I’m married to him, it’s taken for granted that I agree with him – which isn’t necessarily true. Sometimes I feel we’re no longer on the same wavelength and as the family dynamics change, I can see…’ she sighed. ‘Well, all I can see of the future at the moment is a life I don’t particularly want to live.’
‘Have you talked to him? Told him how you feel?’
‘No. Once upon a time, we talked about everything. These days, talking is one of the things there’s never time for. Big part of the problem, I think. Although we did have words about me coming here,’ Vicky said, remembering how sorry Anthony had been about their argument afterwards. Could he be feeling as worried about their lifestyle as she was? ‘I know you’re right. I must talk to him when I return.’
‘Not talking about things sounds the death knoll for so many relationships,’ Amy said. ‘It encourages the keeping of secrets too. Once that happens…’ she shrugged.
‘Is that what happened between you and Kevin? Secrets between you?’ Vicky asked quietly.
‘It only took one rather big secret,’ Amy replied.
When she realised Amy wasn’t going to say any more, Vicky pushed her chair back before picking up her plate and glass.
‘Thanks for the lunch and the chat – it’s helped to clear my mind.’
This afternoon, she decided, writing was going to be all about getting her thoughts about her and Anthony down on paper and setting out her feelings, ready to talk to him when she got home.
13
Amy couldn’t help thinking about her conversation with Vicky as she pottered around in the kitchen after lunch. Being married to someone who, while not exactly famous, certainly lived in the public eye was difficult, she knew only too well, especially if you personally didn’t like the attention. Maybe she’d ask Chelsea if she could borrow the magazine and see if she could spot Vicky and her husband. No, that would be a seriously underhand thing to do. She had to respect Vicky’s privacy. Maybe by the end of the holiday, they’d all be friendly enough for Vicky to open up and tell everyone who her husband was.
