Page 50 of A Riviera Retreat
Amy sighed and shook her head. ‘Your daughter would take on the problems of the world if she could. Does she still have a business to go back to?’
‘Doubtful. I need to talk to her about what she does now. I’m taking her out for lunch today – I don’t suppose you’d like to join us?’ Simon looked at her hopefully.
‘I’d love to but…’
‘Good,’ Simon said, interrupting her. ‘No buts allowed.’
‘Just as long as I won’t be in the way for you and Chelsea to talk,’ Amy said. ‘How long are you here for anyway?’
‘I thought I’d stay a couple of days. Which reminds me, I need to book a hotel,’ and Simon pulled out his mobile and began to scroll through a contact list.
‘Why not stay here?’ Amy said impulsively. ‘I have one room left. It would give you both more time together.’
Simon stilled and his fingers stopped swiping the phone screen. When he looked up at her, it was impossible for Amy to know what he was thinking before he put the phone away and answered her.
‘I’d like that very much,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s years since… since I’ve stayed in a place with such a welcoming atmosphere.’
* * *
Vicky found it strangely difficult sitting next to Anthony as he negotiated the traffic-filled road along the coast and into the harbourside area of Cannes. She could sense tension coming from his body as he drove, but whether it was from worry about his suspension or his unfamiliarity with the road and a left-hand drive car, she wasn’t sure. Whatever the cause, she decided it would be best to stay quiet and let him concentrate on his driving rather than break the silence by trying to chat. She was relieved when he took the right-hand fork into the car park situated on land which jutted out into the Mediterranean and from where the boats sailed to the Iles de Lérins. They would enjoy the longish walk past the boats moored alongside the harbour wall leading to the town.
Lots of holidaymakers walking slowly along the narrow pavement forced them both to adapt the same pace. When they finally reached the end of the quayside at the bottom of the town, Anthony stopped to look at a couple of elderly men sitting on an old wooden fishing boat mending their nets and exhaled a deep breath. Vicky smiled, being around boats always helped him relax. Growing up with a father who was a keen sailor, it was probably inevitable that Anthony would gravitate towards water and boats. Family holidays when Tom and Suzie were young had always tended to be based in West Country seaside resorts.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘If we cross over here, past the Hotel de Ville, I can show you the Marché Forville as we make for Rue Meynadier. Amy says there are all sorts of shops along there, so I should find presents easily. If not, after lunch we’ll make for Rue d’Antibes.’
Vicky was pleased that after walking the length of Rue Meynadier she had found all but one of the presents she needed. A Porsche baseball cap for Tom, a colourful floaty top for Suzie, a silk scarf for Chelsea and for Matilda’s birthday she decided a beautiful glass candle lantern for her new home would fit the bill perfectly. She’d failed, so far, to find anything inspirational for Amy as a joint thank you present, but right now the midday heat was getting to her and she wanted to sit down and have a cold drink.
Anthony carried the shopping bags for her as they made their way down a narrow street towards the front where there would be more choice of somewhere to eat lunch. Anthony vetoed the first restaurant they came to on the grounds that it wasn’t busy and on that basis it couldn’t be very good. Thankfully, the next one they came to gained his approval and Vicky sank down gratefully onto a chair at the last vacant table.
When the waiter brought their menus, Anthony ordered a beer for himself and a half carafe of ice-cold rosé for Vicky as well as a jug of water. They barely glanced at the menu once they realised that ‘mussels et frites’ was the dish of the day. A meal they both adored.
Sitting there waiting for their food, sipping wine and people watching, Vicky waited for Anthony to broach the subject of his suspension. When he simply sat there in happy silence, she knew it was up to her to start the conversation but it wasn’t until they were both eating that she asked her first question.
‘So, are you going to tell me what caused your moment of madness with the mace?’ she asked.
‘Basically it was frustration with the system and the feeling that I’d let my constituents down,’ Anthony said and his face turned serious. ‘There’s something I need to talk to you about.’
Vicky looked at him, dreading what was coming. ‘You’re in more trouble?’
‘No. It’s just…’ Anthony hesitated. ‘I’m thinking about giving up politics. It’s not what I signed up for. I feel like a lone voice amongst all the bureaucracy. I want to give the PM my resignation before the next election, if you agree.’ He stopped speaking and looked at her. ‘Resigning will make a huge difference to both our lives.’
Vicky gazed at him, speechless. She’d never have guessed that was Anthony’s intention. The possibility of him losing his large majority or even his seat at the next election had, of course, flitted through her mind, but Anthony voluntarily resigning from parliament was unexpected. Ever since he’d been elected, he’d seemed to be in his element and determined to do his best by his constituents. ‘But I thought you loved being an MP,’ she said. ‘Are you having some sort of midlife crisis?’
‘It’s not a midlife crisis where I’m buying a Harley or running off to find myself, but it is a crisis in that I feel a failure and that I’ve let everyone down.’ Anthony took a drink of his beer. ‘The pressure has been building for months. I’m sorry I didn’t discuss it with you before – forgive me?’
‘Of course,’ Vicky said. ‘I have to ask, though, was the incident with the mace a wake-up call or the final breaking point?’
‘Both, really,’ Anthony said. ‘I need to be able to look my constituents in the eye and I couldn’t do that knowing I’ve failed to keep their much-needed hospital open. The government are determined on a policy with the NHS that I don’t agree with and can’t support. I’ve also realised I’m tired of fighting government decisions and losing.’
Vicky reached across the table and took his hand and squeezed it hard with her own. ‘It’s just one fight you didn’t win. You’ve won others. You’ve been a good MP. Your constituency will miss you if you resign.’ She might have wanted her own life to change but it appeared that Anthony's life too, was about to undertake some unexpected changes.
‘I’ll still be their MP for at least a few more months. There’s a year before a general election is due – unless something happens and the PM calls an earlier one.’
‘Any idea what you want to do next? Return to IT?’
‘Definitely not IT but…’ Anthony shrugged. ‘A couple of vague ideas. It will be a case of putting some feelers out, seeing what options are available and discussing things with you.’
‘We haven’t done a lot of talking to each other recently, have we?’ Vicky said. ‘I was planning on speaking to you about the future – our future – when I got back.’
