Page 64 of A Riviera Retreat
‘We’ll go somewhere good for lunch then, just the two of us. I’ll lock up and we can walk down to the village and find a restaurant. You haven’t told me any of your news yet.’
‘Nothing to tell really. My contract has been renewed for another three months, by which time I’ll be ready for a change. Might even come and join you here in France for a bit,’ Josh said, smiling at her clear delight at his words.
As Matilda made sure all the doors were secure and they prepared to leave, Pierre, driving away from his villa, gave them a toot and a wave. Matilda smiled and waved back, disappointed he didn’t stop, but he was clearly in a hurry.
‘That’s Pierre, the friend who told me about the villa. Shame he couldn’t stop. I hope you’ll get to meet him before we leave.’
The walk into the village didn’t take long and Matilda sighed happily as she pointed out the small daily market to Josh. ‘I’m looking forward to becoming a regular here. Just look at those shiny aubergines – and those strawberries. Let’s have a wander down the main street and see if we can find a nice restaurant. If not, we can always go to Cannes, it’s not far.’
It was Josh who spotted Le Restaurant des Olives in a small square off to the right of the main road.
‘Looks perfect,’ Matilda said happily when he pointed it out.
Greeted with a smile, they were seated at a table near the shade of the largest olive tree either of them had ever seen, nibbles and a bread basket were placed on the table and red leather covered menus handed to them. Josh’s order of champagne was taken with a nod and another beaming smile.
‘It’s lovely here,’ Matilda said, looking around. ‘I think it may well become my favourite local restaurant.’
‘So, tell me about your new friend, Chelsea,’ Josh said, looked at his mother expectantly as he pulled a bread roll apart.
‘Chelsea? She’s lovely. So sad about her mother.’ Quickly Matilda told Josh a little about Chelsea’s life. ‘She and Simon, her dad, are quite close – you’ll meet him later. He turned up unexpectedly. A problem with Chelsea’s business. Her partner has done a runner.’
The waiter returned at that moment with a half bottle of champagne nestling in an ice bucket and proceeded to carefully twist the cork out with a satisfactory discreet pop and poured them both a glass.
‘C’est un celebration?’
‘Oui, my mother’s birthday,’ Josh said.
‘Bon Anniversaire, Madame,’ the waiter said, handing Matilda a glass.
Matilda smiled. ‘Merci.’
As the waiter turned away to attend to another table, Josh asked, ‘Chelsea has her own business?’
Matilda nodded. ‘Yes. Well, she did. Catering for functions – parties and business lunches. Not sure what she’s going to do now. She’s a marvellous cook. She lives in Bristol too – Kingswood – so it should be easy to keep in touch, until I move here, of course, but I’m hoping she’ll visit once I’m settled.’
Matilda glanced at Josh. She knew better than to ask him whether he was currently seeing anyone. For the last few years, he’d been too busy travelling with his job to start a long distance relationship with anyone, but he always told her she’d be the first to know when he met that special person. If only he realised how much she wanted to see him with the right girl, settle down, start a family. Chelsea would make a lovely daughter-in-law.
‘Happy Birthday, Mum,’ Josh said now, raising his glass. From the look on his face, Matilda guessed that he knew exactly what she was thinking regarding Chelsea, but there was no way he’d let the conversation go down that road. What would be would be, but she was allowed one wish on her birthday, wasn’t she? Shame there wasn’t a cake with candles to blow out, but she’d make the wish anyway. Josh and Chelsea. There. Together the two names had gone out into the cosmos. Que sera sera.
28
Standing under the powerful shower being pummelled by the hot water, Chelsea tried to marshal her thoughts and make new plans for her day. The last day of the holiday. Tomorrow she’d be back to the reality of facing up to re-organising her life without either her business or Elsie.
Elsie. She couldn’t help but feel guilty for not noticing how her business partner was struggling and needed help. They were best friends, for goodness’ sake. Why hadn’t Elsie confided in her? Actually, she knew the answer to that one – Kit. She’d been too wrapped up in herself to notice that Elsie had a problem. She’d tried to ring and text her several times since Simon had given her the news, but nothing had got through. Sunday morning, she resolved to go to Stokes Croft and see Elsie’s parents in the hope they could give her some news, at the very least reassure her that Elsie was all right. Offer to help in any way she could.
Rinsing the conditioner off her hair, Chelsea smiled to herself. Stokes Croft and Clifton were both on the same side of town, so she could casually drop in and see Tilly, make sure she was okay after the journey back.
As she stepped out of the shower thinking about Tilly, Chelsea remembered she hadn’t bought her a birthday present yet. Right, that was something she definitely needed to do this morning. She’d take a last walk down to the village, have a wander around and see what she could find. If nothing inspirational jumped out at her, she’d buy a big box of artisan chocolates from the posh chocolatier near the hairdresser. She remembered seeing a mouth watering display in the refrigerated display cabinet in the window.
It felt strange to be alone in the villa, with nobody around to call out goodbye to, or ask if anyone wanted anything brought back from the village – they were all out doing their own thing. Chelsea pushed the ‘I’m Billy no-mates’ feeling away. Vicky was with her husband, Tilly was with her son. Both completely natural occurrences. Her dad had said she was welcome to join him and Amy on whatever he had planned. Yeah, like she wanted to play gooseberry.
Pierre had just turned into the driveway off the road and the electric gates were beginning to close behind his car as Chelsea ran down. She gave him a wave as she took the opportunity to slip through before the gates silently slotted together again. Ten minutes later, she was walking through the village making for the newsagents to buy a birthday card for Tilly.
After leaving the newsagents, Chelsea walked on down the main road. Past the shop selling beach paraphernalia, the bank, a pet food shop, a butchers and a jewellers. The next shop had a window display full of bright crockery, tablecloths, candles and other things for the home. Chelsea was hopeful as she pushed open the door; surely she’d find something for Tilly in here? Quarter of an hour later, she left disappointed. She’d found several things she personally liked but nothing that she thought would appeal to Tilly – other than a lavender candle, which might prove to be her last resort instead of chocolates.
Chelsea crossed the road, intending to walk back in the direction of the market, but seeing a small street, more of a lane really, between the boulangerie and the pharmacy that she’d not noticed before, she decided to explore. After all, she had all day with nothing to do. She passed a small flower shop with galvanised buckets of roses and lilies standing on the pavement, their fragrance perfuming the air. Further on, a pair of closed wrought-iron gates separated the front garden of what had clearly been a large villa, once upon a time, from the road. Now subdivided into apartments, a panel of door buzzers and names was attached to a side wall. A terrace with a curious mixture of tall narrow houses and shops came next. Intrigued by the contents on display in the window of ‘Être Zen’ Chelsea stopped to take a closer look and smiled to herself in delight. She’d stumbled upon a French ‘new-age’ shop. Without stopping to think, she pushed the door open and walked in.
Inside was a glorious mixture of bookshop, clothes shop and ethnic goods from around the world. Crystals, joss sticks, packs of tarot cards, books on the supernatural, self-help books, jewellery, candles, wind chimes and ethnic clothes all jostled each other for space.
