Page 34 of A Riviera Retreat
Twenty minutes later, they were all sitting on the beach with salad baps, four plastic glasses, a bottle of rosé and a bottle of water.
Unscrewing the wine, Amy poured three glasses. ‘I’d better stick to water again for now,’ she said.
Chelsea was the first to finish her snack and she slipped her sandals off before rolling her jeans up her legs as far as she could. ‘It’s paddling time,’ she said and ran down to the water’s edge. ‘It’s freezing,’ she yelled back at them as the first of the waves lapped her feet. ‘But refreshing. Matilda, are you coming to join me? It would do your ankle good.’
‘She’s right on both counts,’ Amy said, watching as Matilda undid the strap of her sandals. ‘It probably will do your ankle good, but the water never really warms up until July or August, so it will be cold.’
Matilda nodded. ‘It’s a long time since I paddled, but I can’t miss this opportunity,’ and she followed Chelsea down to the water’s edge.
Amy glanced at Vicky. ‘I’ll watch our things if you want to join them.’
Vicky shook her head. ‘No. I’m happy sitting here looking at the sea and thinking, thanks.’ She glanced across at Amy. ‘I meant to ask before – how are you after the Kevin episode?’
‘Wishing I’d done something sooner about officially kicking him out of my life,’ Amy admitted. ‘But at least it’s underway now. I’ve got an appointment with the notaire soon.’
‘Will he turn up at the villa again, d’you think?’
‘If he does, I’ll call the gendarmes – and make sure certain people know about his actions. Kevin hates any kind of personal stuff leaking to the media.’
Before Vicky could say anything, Chelsea and Matilda were back from paddling and the conversation was over. By the time two pairs of feet had dried enough to slip back into sandals, the setting sun behind the distant Esterel mountains had turned the sky the colour of molten lava, swallowing everything in its path.
‘Wow,’ Chelsea said, holding her phone up to take a picture. ‘That is some serious sunset.’
As Amy drove them homewards, she smiled to herself. The three women were laughing and chatting away to each other like old friends.
Once in the villa, Amy said, ‘I’ll see you all down by the pool in about half an hour for a late supper. It’s a little early to call it a midnight feast but…’ she smiled and shrugged.
‘Can we do anything to help?’ Chelsea asked.
‘A hand carrying stuff out maybe? I took a few things out of the freezer this morning and the rest is just baguettes and charcuterie.’
‘Okay. We’ll dump our stuff and join you in the kitchen,’ Vicky said, speaking for them all.
As the food and wine were ferried down to the pool, Amy picked up her iPod before closing the kitchen door and going down to switch on the pool’s underwater lights. The solar lights dotted around the pool were already alight and she put a match to the citronella candles on the table before pressing the play button on her iPod deck.
Matilda, opening a bottle of rosé and one of white wine, stopped to listen as a female voice began to sing a well known French ballad à la Edith Piaf.
‘I hope everyone likes Zaz. I can play something else if not,’ Amy said.
‘Personally, I think the choice is perfect,’ Matilda said. ‘She’s very good and very French.’
* * *
Chelsea, sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling her feet in the water felt happier than she had for ages. Life here at Belle Vue was good. Uncomplicated. Unlike real life. The events of the past few months, years, were slowly fading into the obscurity that was her past life. She’d changed, but the important thing was she’d survived. Unlike her mum. Suddenly all her happy feelings vanished.
‘What’s the date today?’ she asked, turning urgently to look at the others.
‘The twelfth,’ Vicky answered. ‘A few more days and the three of us will be waving all this goodbye. Back to reality with a bump, I suspect.’
Chelsea bit her bottom lip and nodded absently. To think she’d almost missed the date that was etched on her heart. The anniversary of her mum’s death. Something she blamed herself for despite being told it was an unavoidable tragic accident.
‘My mum died five years ago tomorrow. And I still can’t help feeling it was my fault,’ she added in a whisper, desperately trying to stem the tears that were threatening to fall. ‘I miss her so much.’
Vicky was at her side instantly, sitting down and dangling her own feet in the pool as she put her arm around Chelsea and squeezed her tightly, but Matilda was the first to break the silence that Chelsea’s words fell into.
‘Oh, my darling girl. D’you want to talk about it?’
Chelsea shook her head. ‘Not really – nothing changes the fact it was my fault we were on the motorway when the lorry had a puncture and careered into us. I’d been ten minutes late meeting up with Mum. If I hadn’t been late, we wouldn’t have been there at that moment.’
