Page 29 of Summer on the French Riviera
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Elodie had been right when she’d said Sundays on the beach were usually busy, this one, the day after the party, proved to be no exception. Gazz and Olivier, the man he’d recently taken on for the summer realising he needed proper help as well as teenage Enzo, were all busy with customers when she arrived at midday. She stayed out of the way, enjoying the panorama of the beach scene in front of her: golden sand, blue sky, the whiff of ozone in the air mingling with the smell of cooking from a nearby beach restaurant, lovers side by side holding hands on beach towels, happy families laughing and playing together. Elodie, looking at the idyllic scene with the Iles de Lérins shimmering in the distance under a heat haze, thought about Gabby and Harriet, and how the three of them had toasted their new lives in France after the party.
Harriet saying she was happy living in France must have reassured Gabby that she wouldn’t disappear again, but Elodie knew that she, personally, was treading a difficult line in her relationship with her mother by pushing for answers to certain questions. Perhaps she should stop antagonising Harriet by demanding to know about her father. She’d lived all this time without knowing his name and it wasn’t as if she was desperate to go searching for him. Seeing the dress and the photographs of Harriet’s wedding, the sudden memory of how wet the dress had been from her mother’s tears, on what should have been a happy day, had definitely made her think a bit more about the way Harriet’s life hadn’t turned out as she’d once expected it to.
Maybe if she backed off and the two of them were able to get closer, Harriet would eventually tell her the truth voluntarily. If not, she’d have to learn to live with it.
Elodie gave Gazz a wave as she saw him look in her direction and came to a decision. It was time to stop asking questions and try to get closer to her mother. She’d stop pushing so hard and forget about learning the name of her father because, really, what was the point of knowing it when he’d never been in her life and was never going to be?
23
Monday morning and Harriet was on edge as she got dressed ready to walk into Juan and meet up with Jack. She wanted to look good but didn’t want to overdo it, so she pulled on what she’d come to regard as her go-to smart ‘gallery uniform’. Skinny white jeans and a pink T-shirt with a denim waistcoat slipped over the top. Her oversized sunglasses completed her look. Elodie was working in her room and Gabby was having a leisurely swim when Harriet clipped on Lulu’s lead, called out a cheery. ‘See you both later,’ and left before either of them had the chance to ask where she was going.
It was a perfect south of France summer day – deep blue sky with the occasional wispy cloud visible and the sun shining brightly. Holidaymakers were thronging the pavements and the shops. Walking through to the Pinède Gould, Harriet had to step off the pavement several times to avoid meandering pedestrians.
She saw Jack studying the hand imprints of famous jazz legends embedded in the pavement. There was no mistaking the man she knew was actually the love of her life and her heart missed a beat as she watched him, just like it had back in the day when she couldn’t wait to be with him. Guilt rose like bile in her throat – what had she thrown away so carelessly all those years ago?
Quickly she stepped behind a plane tree to catch her breath and to get a dispassionate look at him before he noticed her. The slim figure and the crewcut hair were the same, although the hair was more grey than blonde now, and there was an aura of sophistication about this older man that the younger man she’d known and loved had lacked.
As she moved out from behind the tree and walked slowly towards him, Jack glanced up and saw her. His face immediately lit up as he gave her such a well-remembered smile that her heart skipped several beats. Yes, Elodie had definitely inherited her father’s eyes. The blue of a deep ocean with a crystal-clear gaze that could see right through to her soul.
‘Hello, Jack.’
‘Harriet.’
For a second, Harriet thought he was about to swoop in and hug her and she moved back a little but he simply stood looking at her.
‘And who’s this?’ Jack bent down to stroke Lulu, who was doing her usual trick of wrapping herself around Harriet’s legs in the presence of people she wasn’t sure of.
‘This is Lulu.’
‘Hello, Lulu,’ Jack said, crouching down to fondle her ears, before straightening up to look at Harriet again. ‘It’s good to see you. You’re looking good.’
‘You too,’ Harriet said, unable to deny that it was good to see him or the fact that he still had a disturbing effect on her. Not that she was about to let him see that. ‘How did you find me?’ Harriet could hear the tremble in her voice and stared at him. ‘And why now, Jack, after all this time?’
‘I have to admit it was difficult to know where to begin, but then I had a little bit of a lucky break, thanks to your boss, Hugo. As for the why,’ he shrugged. ‘Look, let’s get a coffee and we can talk properly and I will tell you why I’m here.’
Wordlessly, Harriet turned away and made for the nearest cafe with empty tables and chairs on the pavement. How the hell did Hugo fit into this?
Once they were seated and ordered their coffees, she fixed Jack with a look. ‘So, this lucky break?’
‘Lizzie told me that you’d moved to France. The only address she could give me was the old Dartmouth one or simply Antibes Juan-les-Pins. Did you get my forwarded letter by the way?’
Harriet made a non-committal movement with her mouth. No way would she admit to having received it and throwing it in the compost bin.
‘You went to a party in Monaco the Saturday of Grand Prix weekend,’ Jack said, his voice matter-of-fact.
‘How do you know that?’
‘Because I was there. On a boat moored two away from the yacht you were on.’
Harriet nodded. That would be the extremely noisy American one. She remembered Hugo stopping to speak to a friend on board that yacht as they passed after they had left the party. ‘I didn’t see you on there.’
‘There was quite a crowd on board that night.’ Jack shrugged. ’I recognised you. Couldn’t take my eyes off you. Wanted to say hello then and there, but I wasn’t sure how you would react if I suddenly appeared in front of you, and you were with someone, so I stayed quiet. After you’d left, I asked about the man you were with. Hugo. Art gallery owner, your boss and, I was told, currently your boyfriend. Once I had his name and the address of the art gallery, the rest was easy. I loitered outside the gallery every day of the next week, waiting for you to turn up for work. I followed you home the next Saturday.’
‘You stalked me? That’s a criminal offence.’ Harriet replied lightly. The fact that she’d been so easy to find was unsettling.
‘I wouldn’t call it stalking – there was no evil intention, I assure you. I just wanted to get everything clear in my head before I contacted you. Which I planned to do Saturday evening, but you were busy with a party, hence the note.’
