Page 21 of Rendez-Vous in Cannes
Liveried footmen holding silver trays full of crystal flutes filled with pink champagne moved effortlessly through the crowd. Rick took two, handed one to Anna and said, ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers,’ Anna replied, looking around at the paintings and tapestries hanging on the walls under elaborate gold friezes. ‘I’ve been in some luxurious places over the years,’ she said. ‘But this is amazing. Are those original Picassos and Renoirs? Who does this place belong to?’
Rick shrugged. ‘Some Arab prince or other, so I’d guess, yes, they’ll be originals. The main event is in the marquee on the terrace. Shall we?’
Anna followed him as he made his way out through open French doors leading onto the terrace and acres of landscaped gardens.
‘Just spotted Rosa Cruft. Come on, I’ll introduce you,’ Rick said.
Rosa, talking animatedly to a man who had his back to them as they approached, smiled in welcome.
‘Hi there, Ricky. Great to meet you at last, Anna. You guys know Bernard?’
As the American made the introductions and Bernard shook her hand, Anna found herself face to face with the man she’d seen earlier in the day with Jacques Cambone. She caught her breath and shook the man’s hand without looking him directly in the eye.
‘Anna, nice to meet you. Have we met before? Are you in the business?’
Anna didn’t answer his first question, saying, ‘Yes, I am in the film industry. Rick and I are business partners. You?’
‘I’m in finance. You sure we haven’t met? Something very familiar about your face. We must get together sometime and discuss our pasts,’ Bernard said, smiling at her.
‘Maybe,’ Anna said lightly, before turning to face Rosa. ‘Rosa, I do hope you can make our party next week. We can chat more then. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to find the cloakroom. Back in a few moments,’ and Anna made her way back into the mansion.
One of the liveried footmen pointed her in the direction of the ladies’ cloakroom. To her relief, it was empty and Anna stood in front of the large gilded mirror above a marble sink with gold taps and tried to reapply her lipstick with a shaking hand. She’d finally remembered who Bernard was – Philippe’s best friend.
So why hadn’t she admitted to him that, yes, they had met before? Because it had been a long time ago when Philippe had introduced her to his best mate – whose name she was sure hadn’t been Bernard in those days. She seemed to remember it had been… Brian. That was it. Idly, she wondered when and why he’d changed his name. People changed their names for all sorts of reasons, she knew. Usually to hide from someone or to keep a secret. What would his reaction be if she went back out there and told him the truth about herself? That yes, he had met her before, at an infamous festival long ago – when she’d been with Philippe. Should she do it?
She pushed the lid back onto her lipstick. No. Not here tonight. Not ever. What would be the point? Philippe was dead. Bernard/Brian and her were unlikely to see each other ever again after the festival finished – why would they? Just because he’d been close to a man she’d once known years ago didn’t mean they too, would be friends in the present.
She glanced at her watch. How soon before she could decently leave? Quarter of an hour – or longer? She sighed before resolutely returning to the marquee and regarding the party scene for several moments.
Disco music with a loud beat was filling the air and people were dancing. Anna saw Rick and Rosa Cruft had moved and were now in the middle of a large crowd to one side of the tent. Should she join them? She looked across to where Bernard was listening attentively to something a younger man at his side, his arm around the shoulders of a blonde girl, was saying.
As she watched, Bernard turned his head unexpectedly and looked directly at her. Anna sensed, as his intense gaze caught her own look from across the room, that he’d realised who she was. The younger man turned too and looked across at her, before leaning and muttering something to Bernard. Smiling, Bernard slowly raised his arm in greeting and beckoned her to join them.
In a daze, Anna acknowledged the greeting before turning away to make for the exit. She’d make her apologies to Rosa Cruft when they met up next week, but there was no way she could face returning to Bernard tonight and all the questions he was sure to level at her.
To her relief, a doorman was able to immediately summon her a waiting taxi and she sank down gratefully on to its upholstered seats. She would go back to the Villa Flora and dream about Leo and her future – not dwell on the past.
* * *
The next morning, Anna, sleep having eluded her for most of the night as images of herself and Philippe from the past kept floating into her mind, made herself a strong cafetière of coffee, hoping the caffeine would jolt her into the day. She was sitting on the terrace, starting to feel more human after her second cup when her mobile rang. Rick.
‘How are you this morning?’ he asked.
‘Fine. I’m sorry I ran out on you last night,’ Anna said apologetically.
‘Not a problem,’ Rick answered. ‘I know those sorts of dos aren’t your thing. Anyway, that’s not what I’m ringing about. Thing is, a courier has just arrived here with a package for you marked “Private and Confidential”. Shall I send him up to the villa or do you want to come into the office and collect it?’
‘Any idea who it’s from?’ Anna asked.
‘No. There isn’t a company name or anything on the envelope. It is marked urgent though.’
‘You’d better send it up here then,’ Anna said. ‘I hadn’t planned to come down to the office today. Thanks.’
By the time the motorbike courier arrived fifteen minutes later, Anna had given up trying to second guess who the package was from and what it contained.
Wandering back into the villa holding the packet, she stood in the sitting room examining the envelope for clues before slowly opening it. Inside, a sheet of writing paper was folded around a photocopy of a black and white photograph.
