Page 62 of A Riviera Retreat
‘You don’t have to do that, but thank you. Were you expecting to spend the day with Chelsea?’ she asked.
‘I was hoping to spend the day with you, if you’re not too busy?’
Amy smiled at him. ‘Nothing that can’t wait. The barbecue for this evening is easily organised later this afternoon.’
‘Fancy a trip across to St Marguerite and a picnic on the beach?’
‘Sounds great. I haven’t been to the islands for so long and I usually visit St Honorat when I do go. I’ll organise some food, shall I?’ Amy moved towards the fridge, but Simon stopped her.
‘I’ll do it. You go and change into beach gear, not forgetting a blanket if you have one – oh, and grab a jacket. It’ll probably be breezy out on the water going over.’
Amy looked at him. ‘Anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly bossy?’
‘Chelsea, frequently, now scoot.’ Simon pulled his phone out of his pocket and waved her away with a smile. ‘Just got to make a phone call. We’ve half an hour to catch the ferry.’
They made the booking office for the ferry out to the islands with five minutes to spare. Amy waited near the pontoon and watched while Simon had a quick conversation with the woman in the booth who, after he’d paid for two tickets, reached down and handed over a cold box with a quick ‘Have a good day’ and a smile as Simon handed her a twenty euro note as he thanked her.
They stepped on board the crowded ferry seconds before the boat’s engines revved and it started to ease away from the pontoon. Staying out on deck, they found two seats together near the bow for the fifteen minute journey out to the islands. Amy took off her straw sun hat as the wind threatened to blow it away and faced the salty breeze spray with her eyes closed for several seconds, enjoying her hair being tugged at by the wind.
Without opening her eyes, she said, ‘I have to ask – who did you bribe for the picnic box? I’m sure it’s not a service they normally provide.’
‘I have a friend who runs a delicatessen and upmarket food delivery service. I rang him last night and had him on standby for confirmation this morning. That phone call I made earlier?’
Amy opened her eyes. ‘But you hadn’t even invited me for the picnic last night. How did you know I’d accept? I might have been busy.’
‘I didn’t, I just hoped. And you weren’t because you’re here.’
Amy smiled. It was difficult to chat with the noise of the engines and the wind whipping past blowing away any words, so the two of them sat in companionable silence enjoying the sensation of the boat ploughing through the water.
Fifteen minutes later, they stepped off the boat onto the landing slipway and began to make their way along the path that edged above the shoreline, in the opposite direction to nearly all the other passengers, who were keen to visit the fortress where the Man in the Iron Mask had been held captive. Amy was glad they were going to the far end of the island. She’d found the atmosphere surrounding the fortress and the museum housed within its walls rather spooky, giving her the shivers before she’d even seen the infamous cell.
‘It’s a bit of a hike to my favourite cove,’ Simon said. ‘Most people make for the nearest ones, but I like the walk and the solitude when I get there. I hope you like it too.’ There was a pause before he continued, ‘Did you know you can go on retreat at the monastery over on St Honorat?’
‘Yes. I’ve never been, but I’m told it’s a wonderful experience. Tasha went a couple of times after Francois died and before she became ill,’ Amy said.
‘I really struggled after my wife died and a friend suggested I booked myself a stay there. A year after Naomi died, I finally took his advice and stayed there for a week,’ Simon said quietly. ‘Turned out to be a real lifesaver. A week of nothing but silence and my thoughts. Trying to make sense of things.’
Amy touched his arm gently, hoping to convey her sympathy rather than utter mundane words.
‘It’s amazing just how much solitude and silence at the right time can help put things into perspective,’ Simon said.
‘Belle Vue was my refuge and helped me to heal when I moved in after Tasha died and I left my husband,’ Amy confessed. ‘That was one of the reasons I wanted to turn the villa into more than a simple auberge.’
‘I can understand that,’ Simon answered. ‘Right, we’re here. Shall we sit by those rocks over there?’
Sitting on the blanket with her back against a sunkissed rock, Amy took in the view out over the bay. A cloudless blue sky, blue water dotted with yachts of all descriptions, waterskiers being towed along fast or falling into the water, depending on their expertise, windsurfers and kitesurfers both exploiting the off-shore breeze and the choppy waves with their bouncing white crests.
‘It’s so idyllic here. Hard to believe that that coastline in the distance is the real world as we know it. Cannes with all its people, traffic and noise is such a short distance away.’ She watched as Simon opened the picnic box and pulled out a bottle of rosé and two glasses.
Unscrewing the cap, he poured some wine and handed her a glass. ‘Here’s to new friends,’ he said.
Amy took a sip of the delicious cold wine before saying quietly, ‘You were friends with Aunt Tasha and Francois. Was she the one who recommended the Abbey retreat?’
Simon shook his head. ‘No. It was another friend. A pilot actually.’ There was a broad smile on his face as he looked at Amy. ‘You’ve finally remembered where we met. I saw a certain look in your eyes last night and hoped you had.’
‘Monaco open-air cinema watchingEnchanted April. Tasha introduced us very briefly just before the film began. I don’t remember meeting your wife, though.’
‘Naomi was sitting with some other friends,’ Simon said. ‘I was on my way to join her when I bumped into you with Francois and Tasha.’ He hesitated before continuing. ‘Now you’ve remembered when and where we met, I have another confession to make. I stayed at Belle Vue Villa with Tasha and Francois several times. It’s how I knew where Chelsea was staying. She hadn’t told me the address of the villa, merely that it was in the South of France. I recognised the pool and you in the photos she sent me.’
