Page 46 of Rendez-Vous in Cannes
‘Really? Could you introduce me if I asked you to?’
‘You’ve already met her.’
Anna gave him a surprised look. ‘I have?’
‘Yes. She was here this evening.’
Anna looked at Nat in open-mouthed astonishment. ‘She was?’
Nat nodded. ‘Maybe it’s just a coincidence, someone with the same name contacting the Cambones about Philippe, I don’t know,’ Nat shook his head. ‘But what I do know is this: I’m working for Verity Raymond which is a stage name for Felicity Wickham – née Howell.’
Leo was just in time to catch Anna and save her from hitting the ground as she fainted.
26
Last night, I went to a private party that could have come straight out of a nostalgic 1920s film being shown here at the festival.
Picture the idyllic setting: the candlelit garden of a belle-époque villa, piano jazz drifting on the night air, the champagne flowing into crystal glasses, handsome men flirting with elegant, beautiful women.
An engagement is announced, people are dancing, then somebody’s real name, as opposed to their stage name, is mentioned and the newly engaged heroine of the story faints. Throw in an illegitimate child, an unhappy mother, a dead father and you have a storyline fit for the next blockbuster.
Daisy pressed the save button and sat back in her chair under the loggia. Waking early, she’d crept downstairs with her laptop to start writing her daily report.
The table was still littered with debris from the previous evening: screwed-up paper napkins, discarded cocktail sticks, paper plates. Making a space for her laptop, Daisy had glanced across at the villa. The bedroom curtains were still drawn and downstairs the kitchen blind was pulled.
As Anna had regained consciousness after fainting last night, Leo had taken charge, saying, ‘I think the best thing for Anna is bed,’ and wishing everyone goodnight, he’d gently led Anna into the villa and closed the door behind them.
‘Oh dear,’ Poppy had said. ‘I do hope Anna is okay. Hasn’t got food poisoning or anything. I’d hate to think I was responsible for making anyone ill.’
‘You are such an old worrier, sis,’ Daisy said. ‘I think Anna just had a shock, that’s all.’
Afterwards, when Nat had left, Daisy had helped Poppy to take the leftover food into the kitchen before they went to bed.
‘Leave everything else,’ Poppy had said, smothering a yawn. ‘I’ll throw all the rubbish into a bin bag tomorrow.’
‘Morning, Daisy,’ Poppy said now, appearing with two mugs of coffee and a plate of croissants, ‘Couldn’t you sleep either?’
‘No. Thought I’d try to get ahead with today’s report. I’ve promised Nat I’ll meet up with him later in Cannes, so I need to get organised.’
‘No sign of life over there yet,’ Poppy said, looking across at the villa. ‘Wonder how Anna is this morning? I’ll go across later and see if Leo thinks she needs a doctor to check her over. Fainting like that for no reason,’ Poppy shook her head.
‘Come on, sis,’ Daisy said. ‘Even you must be starting to put two and two together about Anna’s past.’
‘What d’you mean?’
Daisy tapped her fingers. ‘One: Anna comes to the festival for the first time in years. Two: Philippe Cambone, an international film director whom she initially denies knowing, dies unexpectedly. Three: there’s a rumour circulating of an illegitimate heir making a claim against the film director’s estate. Four: A woman using an alias to contact the Cambones about the said illegitimate heir turns out to be married to the up and coming director, Teddy Wickham. Five—’
‘Stop,’ Polly said. ‘So are you suggesting Anna is somehow involved in all this?’
‘I think she’s right at the centre of things. I’m ninety-nine point nine per cent certain she’ll turn out to be Teddy Wickham’s mother,’ Daisy said.
* * *
Anna pulled her croissant apart and pushed the pile of crumbs around her plate.
‘You were meant to eat that, not play with it,’ Leo said.
‘Not really hungry,’ Anna replied. ‘Sorry.’ She glanced across at Leo. ‘What time are we going down into Cannes today? I can’t remember.’
