Page 19 of Rendez-Vous in Cannes
‘Six.’
‘Tom. Cindy. Teatime. Leave Anna in peace,’ Poppy called.
‘Bye, Anna,’ Tom and Cindy said together as they ran over to the cottage.
Anna pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and watched the children disappearing into the cottage, before slowly making her way into the villa to prepare and eat a cheese baguette so she’d at least have some food inside her before the party in Super Californie she’d promised to attend with Rick.
Half an hour later, with Cindy between them holding their hands, Daisy and Nat walked down to the grand belle-époque villa where Teddy Wickham and his family were staying for the festival.
Nat pressed the security button, the gate swung open and Cindy skipped inside. Nat glanced at Daisy.
‘I’ve got tickets for the cinema on the beach tomorrow evening, want to join me? Not sure what’s showing – could be Tom and Jerry or a decent classic feature.’
‘Hey, don’t knock Tom and Jerry,’ Daisy laughed. ‘I’m a big fan. Shall I see you by the Carlton beach after the evening’s red carpet proceedings? I’ll need to take a look at that first. Should be finished about eight o’clock.’
‘Look forward to it. Thanks for this afternoon and tea,’ Nat said, followed Cindy into the landscaped villa gardens and the gate closed behind them.
10
As Daisy cut through the back streets of Cannes and continued her way down to the Palais des Festivals via the old port, she thought about Nat. How nice he was. How kind he was. How different he was to Ben. As for those blue eyes of his… they were simply spellbinding, she decided. It would be fun spending time together and getting to know him better at the beach cinema tomorrow evening.
Several of the yachts moored alongside the quay were hosting parties and Daisy caught snippets of conversations in French, Italian and what she took to be Russian as she walked past a white hulled sailing yacht where a television crew were on board busily filming a bikini clad actress.
Dodging the crowds that were still swarming around the tents of the Village International, Daisy made her way to the front of the Palais des Festivals hoping to find Marcus there. He might have heard some more gossip regarding the rumours that were circulating about Philippe Cambone. The sudden end to the conversation she’d had with Bernard outside the Cambone’s restaurant earlier was still puzzling her.
There was the usual scrum of paparazzi, busy snapping away at the stars arriving for the evening show. Daisy stood watching as five or six actors, all in a row with their arms linked, made their way along the red carpet towards the steps. Cameras flashed, smiles gleamed and jewellery sparkled. For a brief moment Daisy wondered what life must be like living in the spotlight. It wasn’t something she’d enjoy that was for sure. It was several moments before she finally spotted Marcus photographing a leggy blonde getting into a Ferrari parked near the red carpet.
‘You get my text?’ he asked, turning to greet Daisy, as the Ferrari engine revved noisily before taking off down the Croisette with its passenger, at an enforced sedate pace. ‘Dinner tomorrow night?’
Daisy shook her head. ‘Sorry. Nat’s already asked me to go to the beach cinema with him.’
‘Okay. We’ll make it next Tuesday evening.’ Marcus sighed when Daisy shook her head again.
‘It’s Anna’s party at the villa and I’ve been invited.’
‘Can I come?’
‘I’ll ask Anna,’ Daisy promised, not wanting to say an outright no, but she doubted that Anna would invite him. ‘We could have that dinner Bill is treating us to this evening if you like?’ she suggested tentatively. ‘I’m not dressed for anywhere too posh but—’
‘Bernard’s got me an invite to a swish party,’ Marcus interrupted. ‘In fact, it’s time I showered and got into my evening suit. I’ll see you around,’ and he was gone.
Pensively, Daisy crossed the Croisette. Surely Marcus could have wangled an invite for her too?
Daisy wandered slowly along, looking at the expensive boutiques. It was impossible to see much because of the crowds and in the end she gave up and made for a seat under a palm tree in the nearby gardens of the Hotel de Ville.
Pulling her laptop out of her bag she began to write up some notes ready for her next report.
As the sun sets, flashing lights and neon signs take over in the twilight, indicating that the glamorous nightlife of Cannes, which will continue into the early hours, is once again starting. The ‘Welcome to the Cannes Film Festival’ illuminated sign strung across the road reminds you, in case you forget, you’re on the Cote d’Azur at the world-famous event.
Out in the bay, I can see lights on Roberto Cavalli’s large purple yacht, where the crew are preparing for a big party on board tonight; among other celebrities, Naomi Campbell is rumoured to be a guest.
Earlier, limousines discharged their VIP passengers outside the Palais des Festivals, where they faced the usual barrage of flashlights and shouts of admiration from the waiting crowds before walking up the red carpet lined steps into the theatre. Some lucky fans managed to obtain the autograph of their favourite star and a few even managed to persuade their idols to stand alongside them for a once-in-a-lifetime photograph.
Music is pounding from cars as they move slowly along the Croisette, under the censorious gaze of stern-faced gendarmes. The weather tonight is perfect for the cinema on the beach. People are hurrying past me to claim a seat on the sand under the stars, ready to watch a movie in a truly romantic setting with the Mediterranean gently lapping at the shoreline and a balmy breeze providing the best air conditioning.’
Daisy closed the laptop, slipped it back into her bag and sat for a few moments people watching before getting up and walking back to the villa.
Poppy was sitting reading under the loggia.
