Page 35 of A Riviera Retreat
‘Chelsea, it wasn’t your fault. It was a tragic accident. I’m sure your dad has told you that time and time again,’ Vicky said gently.
‘He doesn’t know. I’ve never told him, I felt so guilty. I couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing I’d killed Mum.’ Chelsea took her feet out of the pool and swivelled herself around to look at them. ‘This is the first year Dad and I haven’t spent the day together. We usually take flowers to the cemetery and then have lunch somewhere and talk about Mum. I’m not sure how he’s going to cope on his own tomorrow.’
‘Did you see a trauma counsellor after it happened?’ Amy asked.
Chelsea shook her head.
‘I think maybe you should. I know when Tasha died – and it was expected because she was ill – I was absolutely shattered, and she was my aunt, not my mother. Seeing a counsellor helped me. I can’t imagine what it feels like when your mother is suddenly not there. I’m so sorry.’
‘If nothing else, you should talk to your dad when you get home,’ Matilda added. ‘I’m sure he’ll be horrified to hear you’ve been blaming yourself all this time.’
‘I’m not sure I can,’ Chelsea said. ‘I think it’s five years too late.’
‘Nonsense,’ Matilda said. ‘It’s never too late to talk.’
‘Maybe I’ll try when I get back.’ Chelsea sighed. ‘It’s been such a lovely day – I’m so sorry if I’ve spoilt the evening.’
‘Don’t be silly – you haven’t spoilt anything,’ Amy said, leaping to her feet and starting to hand around various dishes. ‘We’re your friends, willing to help in any way we can. Come on, we’re supposed to be having a midnight feast – so let’s eat.’
* * *
Vicky, nibbling some goat’s cheese with a slice of baguette and listening to Zaz singing in the background, smiled to herself as she wondered how her mother would have reacted to the young singer’s cover version of a favourite Edith Piaf song. Before she left France next week, she’d have to track down a Zaz CD and buy a couple – one for herself and one for her mum.
She glanced across to Chelsea, sitting with Matilda at one of the small white wrought-iron tables further along the pool terrace. She felt so sorry for her having to cope with losing her mother in such a tragic way. Words were always inadequate in such a situation. Tomorrow was sure to be a difficult day for Chelsea, maybe she’d suggest doing something together, something that would take her mind off the anniversary. Coffee in Cannes maybe?
‘More wine?’ Amy asked, standing in front of her with the rosé bottle and a glass.
‘Thanks. And thank you for today. It’s been lovely. And this feast in the garden is the perfect end to the day. I’ve never seen a pool with underwater lights before. Together with the solar lights, there’s a magicalMidsummer Night’s Dreamatmosphere down here this evening.’ Vicky laughed. ‘I half expect Titania to appear in a diaphanous gown and join us for a while before fading away again and leaving us to our present-day worries.’
‘Any word from Anthony?’ Amy asked.
‘A couple of text messages. He’s having a problem getting a flight. Hopefully I’ll hear something soon.’ She took a sip of her drink before saying quietly so the others couldn’t hear, ‘I was thinking that maybe the three of us could suggest coffee in Cannes to Chelsea tomorrow morning. Try and take her mind off the date. Good idea? Or best left?’
‘It would have to be you and Matilda – I’m busy in the morning, I’m afraid. Leave it until tomorrow before suggesting – make it seem more spontaneous,’ Amy said. ‘Anybody else like a top-up?’ she asked, holding out the bottle to the other two.
‘Please, and I’m going to indulge in some more of that gorgeous pâté,’ Chelsea said.
As Amy moved away, Vicky felt her phone vibrate in her jeans pocket. Anthony. Glancing at the brief text, she heaved a sigh of relief. He’d managed to get a flight and would arrive for the last two days of her holiday. Quickly she sent a reply.
?? Great. The change will do you good. You’ll love the villa. xxx.
She put the phone back in her pocket thoughtfully and went to tell the others the news.
At least they’d be on neutral ground while they talked about his suspension and how he saw the future. Both their futures. If anything, the short time she’d been at the villa had made her more determined than ever to live her own life the way she wanted. She didn’t intend to seek Anthony’s permission. Just his co-operation. And his promise not to mind.
* * *
Matilda finished her wine, placed the empty glass on the poolside table and looked at the other three women.
‘I have a confession to make,’ she said quietly.
Startled, they all looked at her in surprise, wondering what was coming.
‘I’ve registered with an estate agent and tomorrow I’m looking at four houses and one apartment.’
‘Exciting,’ Amy said.
‘I think I’m too old to be having a mid-life crisis,’ Matilda said. ‘But I’m still dreaming of a life in France, so I thought I’d better check things out while I’m here. Of course, nothing may come of it but…’ she shrugged. ‘I have to at least try and see if the dream William and I had is viable. I’d love the company if any of you would like to come with me?’
