Page 56 of Summer on the French Riviera
‘There’s only one answer I can give you to both questions – and that’s yes.’ And Gabby moved happily into Philippe’s embrace as he put his arm around her shoulders and drew her towards him.
‘Thank you, my darling. That makes me so very happy.’ Philippe stood up. ‘Come on, there’s a bottle of champagne in my fridge. We need a glass to celebrate and then we go choose a ring, yes?’
* * *
Gabby was bursting to tell everyone her news but had to wait until after supper that evening when the three of them were finally sitting out on the terrace together, listening to the cicadas getting quieter and quieter, until finally the garden was empty of their noise.
Gabby took a deep breath, wanting to have their full attention. ‘I have news. Important news.’
Both Harriet and Elodie looked at her and waited.
‘Philippe has asked me to marry him. I said yes and we’re going to live in the Provençal when the apartments are all finished.’
Elodie flew out of her chair and gave her grandmother a tight hug. ‘Gabby, I’m so pleased and happy for you. Philippe is so lovely. You so deserve to be happy.’
Harriet too got up and hugged her mother. ‘Congratulations. Like Elodie says, you deserve to be happy.’
‘When are you having the engagement party?’ Elodie asked.
Gabby shook her head. ‘Oh, I don’t know that we need one.’
‘Of course you need one,’ Elodie said. ‘We’ll work out a date and have it here. We’ll organise it, won’t we, Harriet?’
‘Of course,’ Harriet agreed, laughing.
‘Thank you,’ Gabby said. ‘But that’s not all my news. The next news is somewhat even more mind-blowing. The brush pot was auctioned in Paris today and it made rather a lot of money.’ Both Harriet and Elodie gasped when she told them the sum and sat down quickly. ‘Of course, you two will each get a large sum and then I’d like you to think about charitable causes we could help. Set up a foundation or something. I also have to talk to you about the villa, Elodie. There’s something I haven’t told you. I was waiting until the time was right and this seems like the moment,’ Gabby said. ‘When I inherited it ten years ago, I signed it over to you. You are the owner of Villa de l’Espoir, not me. I never expected to come and live here ever again, but I always planned for you to inherit the villa.’ Gabby glanced up at Harriet. ‘Your inheritance is the Dartmouth house. Since we sold it, and moved over here, the money has been invested for you.’
‘Mum, I’m speechless,’ Harriet said. ‘It’s almost too much to take in.’
‘I know how you feel,’ Gabby said. ‘But it’s all rather wonderful, isn’t it?’ And she smiled at them happily.
42
A few days later, when Elodie had taken Lulu for a walk and Gabby was out with Philippe collecting the engagement ring Gabby had chosen which had needed adjusting, Harriet was at home alone trying to paint. Last Saturday when Hugo had asked her how many paintings she was likely to have ready for the December exhibition, she’d felt ashamed telling him about the meagre amount she’d managed so far. She was so lucky to have met Hugo. Other artists struggled to find someone willing to exhibit their work and here she was prevaricating. If the exhibition was to ever happen, she had to get painting. The fact that she was also trying to get her head around the events of the last few days and sort her thoughts and emotions out didn’t help.
Now that Jack and Elodie had met, whatever happened in the future would be down to them. They were both adults; they could sort everything out between themselves. There was no need for her to be involved, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Jack’s toast at lunch for a united family. Just how united a family did he have in mind?
Absently, she looked at her latest effort on the easel that she’d finished yesterday. Propped up on the easel ledge was the photo she’d used as inspiration. An old wooden door, set in an ancient stone wall, in one of the narrow lanes of Antibes old town, was hanging open at a drunken angle half off its hinges, its olive green paint faded and peeling. A flowering blue plumbago plant was running rampant over the top of the wall and down the side of the door.
Standing there, comparing the painting with the photo, she felt happy that she’d got the light and the shadows right and had created an atmospheric and nostalgic painting. Now to put it safely out of the way and make a start on the next painting – one that would go into the exhibition already marked as sold.
Harriet had already decided that this one, the painting of the Hotel Provençal as depicted on the postcard they’d found in the box from the cave, would make a more than suitable wedding present for Gabby and Philippe.
The gate buzzer startled her. Jack’s voice came over the intercom. ‘Hi, Jack here. May I come in, please? I’d like to talk to Harriet.’
For a fleeting moment, Harriet debated about staying quiet and letting Jack believe that everyone was out. He’d only come back though. It would be easier to see him without company.
Harriet put her paintbrush down, slowly walked through to the hallway and pressed the entry button. She was waiting by the front door as the gate closed behind Jack.
‘Hello, Jack. I’m not sure what there is left to talk about now that you’ve met Elodie and the two of you are happy to be in each other’s life.’ Harriet smiled at him, hoping to indicate that she was pleased for the two of them.
‘Elodie and I are only one part of the equation – you and I are the other part,’ Jack said. ‘We need to talk. No Elodie? Gabby?’ he asked, looking around.
‘I’m home alone and I should be painting. Can whatever you want to say wait for a few days?’
Jack shook his head. ‘No. I want us to have an honest, open conversation with each other. A proper discussion about what happened in the past – and what happens now, in the future.’
Harriet took a deep breath before she turned and walked back through the villa to the veranda, where her easel stood. Jack followed her and she gestured at him to sit at the table and sat opposite him.
