Page 6 of Summer on the French Riviera
‘There are a few boxes left in the sitting room – books and ornaments,’ Gabby said. ‘How about we finish unpacking those.’
* * *
An hour later, the bookshelves were full, cream rugs had been unrolled and placed in front of the two settees now covered with throws and resplendent with several cushions. Ornaments and framed photos stood in the little shelved nook beside the fireplace and a trio of white porcelain owls stood to one side of the wood burner. A vase containing the flowers Philippe had brought sat in the centre of the coffee table. Gabby gave a soft sigh. It looked homely and welcoming.
‘There’s just this now,’ Gabby said, pulling bubble wrap off a framed picture. ‘I thought maybe in the middle of the chimney breast?’
Philippe took the painting of a barn owl looking out from its nest high up in a barn from her and studied it thoughtfully. ‘This is beautiful. Is it one of Harriet’s?’
‘Yes. A birthday present for me before she left. I love owls and I can’t begin to explain what this means to me.’
‘I’ll need to make a hole for the hanging,’ Philippe said. ‘I’ll bring a drill and a strong fitting next time I come. In the meantime, it will be safe leant against the wall here, out of the way.’
As they stood there together looking at the result of their hard work, Elodie rang to say she was on her way home and should she buy some of the local delicious onion tart,pissaladière, for lunch?
Gabby turned to ask Philippe if he’d like to stay for lunch. When he nodded, she said, ‘Please. Philippe is here for lunch too.’
As the call ended, Philippe took hold of Gabby’s hand. ‘Now, you walk me around your garden. You have to decide where the lemon tree is going to live. Mickaël and Gazz they talk of bringing it over now you are here.’
To Gabby’s delight, the Vincent family had given her a lemon tree in a beautiful pot for her seventieth birthday on New Year’s Eve promising to take care of it until she was once again living in the villa.
‘It is thriving on the balcony,’ Philippe continued. ‘But it needs to come to the garden now you are living here.’
Gabby looked around. ‘Maybe best to leave it in the pot for a few more weeks until the garden is a bit more organised and weed-free? I definitely want to place it somewhere I can see it from the terrace.’
‘In that case, why not put the pot near the back right-hand corner of the pool. It will be visible, not in the way there and will have the benefit of sunshine but also some shade.’
‘Brilliant suggestion. If it likes that position we can plant it there and, in time, it could replace the cherry tree,’ Gabby said.
‘I ring Mickaël and tell him it is good for this afternoon to bring the lemon tree, yes?’ Philippe said. ‘I also ring Joel for you, d’accord?’ Gabby nodded.
‘Thank you. Ah, Elodie is back,’ and she smiled as her granddaughter joined them in the garden.
Harriet arrived back shortly after Elodie and the four of them enjoyed a picnic lunch out on the terrace, balancing plates of food on their laps. ‘The quicker we get a proper table, the better,’ Elodie said. ‘I saw one at the brocante this morning that would be ideal.’
After lunch, Harriet prepared the walls before starting to paint them, Elodie disappeared up to her room to send her feature with its accompanying photos, while Gabby and Philippe started to clear a space for the lemon tree in its pot before Mickaël and Gazz arrived. Philippe, looking at the field beyond the overgrown hedge, said, ‘So that’s the land Jean-Frances Moulin was after. How far does it stretch?’
‘Not sure. I think it’s just over a hectare,’ Gabby said. The mention of Jean-Frances Moulin was an unwelcome reminder of the meeting she’d had with the man in the New Year when he’d tried to bamboozle her into selling the villa to him. ‘I know I used to cut across it to get to work at the Provençal.’
‘Ah, Hôtel Le Provençal. The hoarding is coming down soon and I hear the first apartments go on sale this summer. A new era begins.’
Gabby smiled. ‘Luxury apartments to carry on the glamorous Provençal name. I must take a wander down that way and have another look at the outside. I doubt that I’ll ever see the inside of the building again.’ She knew just looking at the renovated outside of the hotel would be enough to bring up bittersweet memories again, Christmas had shown her that. Memories of how life had been for her back then, working in the Provençal, thinking she was in love, becoming pregnant, her world collapsing, leaving home… She pushed those memories away. She was ready for them this time. Any bad memory that sprang up uninvited would be dealt with and pushed back down. Living here at this stage of her life was going to be so different to what had gone before.
Mickaël and Gazz arrived just then and the two of them manhandled the large terracotta pot into position on the cleared space before accepting the offer of a coffee.
* * *
Elodie heard Gazz and his father arrive and quickly saved and sent the finished feature to her editor before running downstairs to the kitchen where Gazz was drying his hands after washing the soil off. He quickly turned and enveloped her in his arms. ‘I am so happy you come to live here. I missed you,’ and he gave her a gentle kiss. ‘Welcome to your new life in Juan.’
Elodie gave a contented sigh. ‘I can’t believe it’s finally happened. Living down here, I want to pinch myself.’
‘How is Harriet?’
Elodie shrugged. ‘As unreliable as ever. I don’t think she really wants to be living in the villa with us. I know it’s early days, but I fully expect her to move out at the end of summer.’ Not wanting to talk about her mother when she was only metres away, Elodie changed the subject. ‘And you? How’s the new business going? Or is it too early to tell? Did the new paddleboards arrive?’
‘Oui, they arrived. We’re ticking over with early holidaymakers, finding our feet really,‘ Gazz said. ‘Easter will be the first big test. Be able to judge then, but it’s looking good. You must come down. I’ll treat you to a paraglide.’
* * *
