Page 32 of A Riviera Retreat
Once through the market, Vicky quickly found herself outside the imposing old Grimaldi Chateau, the fortress-like building that housed the musée. She paid the entrance fee and began to wander slowly around, soaking up the atmosphere – especially on the upper floors which Picasso had used as a studio in 1946. It was the work he’d done during that time that made up the bulk of the current exhibition.
Stepping out on to the terrace to look at some sculptures, Vicky caught her breath at the panoramic views of the coastline both to the east and the west. She stood there for some time studying the sculptures, as well as drinking in the air and the beautiful vista before her. When she finally turned and re-entered the chateau, she realised the staff were gently encouraging everyone to make their way to the exit as the musée would close soon for the two hour lunch break. Vicky just had time to buy a couple of postcards in memory of her visit before she was ushered outside.
She glanced at her watch. Three quarters of an hour to kill before lunch. To join the crowds who were milling around and try to find the others? Or explore the little alleyways leading away from the market and the tourist crowds? No contest really. And Vicky set off to discover the parts of Antibes that were hidden from view.
* * *
Chelsea sighed happily and waved her hand in the air as she looked around the restaurant garden. ‘This place is, is… so French. It’s got a fountain, a canopy of wisteria, ancient risqué garden statues and the sky above issoblue. Outside in the street, everything is rush, rush, rush, you’d never guess there was this oasis of peace hidden away. It’s just a perfect setting. Thank you for bringing us here,’ she said, turning to Amy.
‘The food’s usually good too,’ Amy replied, smiling at her. ‘I have to confess it’s one of my favourite places for lunch in Antibes. Now, what do you both want to drink while we wait for Vicky? Shall I order Kir aperitifs all round? As I’m driving I’ll need to be careful, so I’ll be on the sparkling water with my meal.’
Both Chelsea and Matilda said a Kir sounded good. ‘We’ll decide about wine when we order our food, shall we?’ Chelsea asked.
‘I hope Vicky hasn’t got lost,’ Matilda commented.
Amy shook her head. ‘Anyone would point her in the direction of the market and this place is easy to find from there. But if she’s not here in five minutes, I’ll text her. She’s got a lot on her mind at the moment, I expect she’s forgotten the time.’
The waiter was placing three drinks in front of them when a breathless Vicky arrived. Amy quickly asked for the fourth Kir and the menus.
‘Sorry, sorry. I thought I had loads of time before lunch and I went further than I realised,’ Vicky said.
‘How was the exhibition?’ Chelsea asked.
Vicky pulled a face. ‘Very small and a bit of an anticlimax actually, but I’m glad I went. There’s a spectacular view from the museum terrace. Thank you,’ she said as the waiter placed her drink on the table. ‘I went for a wander afterwards – took lots of photos of old doors. I even got an idea for my book. Santé,’ she said, raising her glass. ‘This is lovely,’ she said, looking around. ‘A hidden gem.’
‘Isn’t it? Our waiter is quite a hunk too, isn’t he?’ Chelsea whispered, watching said waiter as he approached a nearby table. ‘Fits right in with the beautiful garden,’ and she flashed him a dazzling smile.
‘I thought you were off men,’ Matilda said, smiling.
‘Mmm, so did I,’ Chelsea replied. ‘But he could make me change my mind. Pity we’re only here for the day. He could have given me some French lessons.’
‘Let’s decide on food,’ Amy said, laughing.
Once the food and the wine to accompany it were ordered, the four of them sat happily chatting under the shade of the canopy of white wisteria covering the wooden pergola beams above their heads.
‘Our holiday is going so quickly,’ Chelsea sighed. ‘Less than a week and the three of us will all be back to our old lives. Days like this make me want to stay in France permanently.’ She jumped up and took her phone out of her bag. ‘Need a pic or two of us all here. Matilda, you stay sitting, Vicky and Amy, can you stand either side of her please.’ Chelsea snapped a couple of photos. ‘I really want one of us all together – hang on,’ and she caught the eye of the waiter. When he came over, she smiled at him and held out her phone, hoping he would understand.
‘You want me to take a photo of you beautiful ladies?’ he said, before leaning into Chelsea and saying quietly, ‘It is indeed a shame you only visit for the day. If you want French lessons, you only have to say.’
‘You speak English,’ Chelsea gasped, embarrassed. He’d overheard her earlier. She could feel the heat in her cheeks rising.
‘Of course. I also speak Italian, Spanish and a little Danish. We have many international visitors here in Antibes.’ He gestured for Chelsea to join her friends. ‘Smile.’ And he pressed the shutter.
‘Merci beaucoup,’ Chelsea stuttered as he handed her phone back.
‘You speak a little French already. It was my pleasure. I fetch your lunch now.’ He winked at her before turning and walking towards the kitchen.
Chelsea sank back down onto her chair. ‘I want to curl up and die,’ she said. ‘He must think I’m a complete idiot – or whatever the French equivalent is.’
‘I doubt it,’ Vicky said. ‘You probably made his day.’
‘Let’s see the photos,’ Amy said.
Chelsea handed her the phone. ‘Here you go.’
‘The one of us all is rather good,’ Amy said, scrolling through. ‘May I print four copies out when we get back to Belle Vue?’ She handed the phone back.
Chelsea looked at the photo. It was definitely one to keep. ‘Of course. I’m going to send a copy to my dad right now. Show him my new friends.’
