Page 42 of Summer on the French Riviera
The waiter returned at that moment, ready to take their order. He’d moved on to the next table when Jack returned to their conversation.
‘There’s more than happy memories though, isn’t there? There’s the physical proof of our daughter. Tell me, who does she take after – in looks and temperament?’
‘She’s quite stubborn, which she clearly gets from you,’ Harriet said teasingly. ‘She’s also blonde like you were. Wait a minute,’ and she opened her phone and scrolled through until she found what she was looking for and she handed her phone to Jack. ‘I took this of her and Gabby last New Year when we went to a party. Elodie turned her head at the last moment, so it’s a bit blurred.’
Harriet waited quietly while Jack studied the photo carefully for several long seconds. He was subdued and his eyes suspiciously bright when he handed the phone back to her.
‘She may have my colouring, but she’s the image of you at her age. She’s beautiful.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Is she an artist like you?’
‘No, she is creative, though. She’s a journalist and is writing a novel. She’s doing really well at the moment. Moving to France has been good for her.’
Jack topped up their wine glasses. ‘Does she have a boyfriend? And if she does, is he good enough for her?’
Harriet laughed. ‘Jack, you can’t play the heavy-handed father any more than I have the right to be an interfering mother, we’ve both been out of her life too long. Yes, she does have a boyfriend, Gazz, and he’s great. He runs his own beach business – jet skis, paddleboats and paragliding trips.’ She took a sip of her wine. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
Jack nodded.
‘Did you marry the girl your parents expected you to, or someone else?’
Jack gave a heavy sigh. ‘Yes, more fool me, I married Sabrina, the girl my parents liked. For better. For worse. It turned out to be a little bit of better overshadowed by everything else. How about your marriage?’
Harriet breathed a sigh of relief as the arrival of their meals at that moment saved her from answering and they both fell silent as the waiter placed their plates in front of them. ‘Merci,’ they murmured simultaneously.
They started to eat and it was several minutes before Jack looked at her, his eyes narrowed. ‘You going to answer my question about your marriage?’
‘Let’s say I was a fool too and leave it at that,’ Harriet replied. ‘How’s your steak?’
‘Good. How long have you been a widow?’
‘A year.’
‘This Hugo you work for…?’
‘What about him?’ Harriet eyed Jack warily.
‘Is he more than your boss?’
‘He’s a very good friend.’
‘How good a friend?’
Harriet put her knife and fork down and gave Jack a hard stare. She didn’t want to discuss Hugo with Jack. ‘Actually, it’s none of your business how good a friend he is to me. We’re here to talk about Elodie, not me.’
Jack shrugged. ‘Sorry. Just wondering. It’s a weird feeling being with you again after so long. A nice weird though.’ The happy smile he flashed at her was reminiscent of the ones that years ago she’d grown to love.
Harriet started to eat again. No way was she going to admit how bizarre she was finding the evening. Laughing and sharing memories of the way they were was surreal. Almost as if they’d never parted. She needed to get the conversation back on an even, less personal keel, with safer subjects. But first she needed to find out how long Jack intended to be around.
‘When I bumped into Lizzie in Dartmouth, she said you were back in Europe. Are you here permanently?’
Jack shook his head. ‘Planning on splitting my time between the States and Europe – six months at a time. Depends on visas, of course. Although now I know about Elodie, I’ll probably make my base in France rather than the UK. I’m thinking of looking for an apartment. I really like the hotel I’m staying in at the moment, but I can’t stay there forever.’
‘Which hotel?’
‘The Belles Rives. Incidentally, I’m looking forward to introducing Elodie to her half-brother at some point in the future.’
