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Her mind though, was still buzzing with thoughts about the meeting at the notaire’s. An illegitimate son of Oscar had to be some sort of family relation. Granny Agnes would be his stepmother, her mother would be his half-sister – and she would be his niece. And Theo would have a nephew. An instant extended dysfunctional family. Having to share the house inheritance with a complete stranger was a bit of a blow for her gran and mum. She was grateful for the five thousand euros Oscar had left her though.

The other thing that kept breaking into her concentration was whether her mum and Granny Agnes would agree to her staying in the house for the next few weeks at least. They were clearly less than happy with her after hearing her plans. It was fine for Mel to tell her not to worry she could always stay at hers until she found somewhere but although it was a relief to have that as Plan B, she desperately wanted to stick to her own Plan A. If only to prove to her parents that she was capable of organising a life on her own terms.

A WhatsApp message pinged into her phone. Rufus. Another thumbs up gif acknowledging the morning photo of the boats with no message. Zazz glared at the phone. Okay, she got that she’d hurt him by not talking about her plans but not answering her messages with actual words was a bit mean. She pressed the button to call him, determined to try and smooth things over between them. But her call went straight to voice message. Leaving a message was pointless. She wanted to talk to him. But in the end she sent him a text.

Lots of exciting things to tell you. Please ring me. x

A moment later a text pinged in.

Got a new job. Leaving for the US in ten days. Have a good life.

Zazz starred at the text in disbelief for almost a minute, unable to believe what she was reading before she pressed his number with a shaking hand. She needed to talk to him.

The number had been blocked. The man who had accused her of shutting him out of her life, had actually said those very words, ‘I’d never shut you out of my life like that’ had done just that. Rufus had dumped her. At the time he’d been accusing her of deceit and shutting him out had he been planning to do the same to her in a week or so? Well, at least she knew where she was now. Rufus was in the past and she was in the South of France determined to make her new life a success.

* * *

After Zazz left, Francine washed the glasses before telling Agnes and Theo that she was going to go for a walk by the harbour and then would head back to Oscar’s house. ‘Need some sea breeze to clear my head.’ She didn’t add that she desperately needed some time alone to phone Edwin and try to make sense of everything.

‘Shall we follow Zazz’s lead and go for a pizza tonight?’ Theo suggested.

‘Good idea,’ Francine said. ‘See you back here about seven?’

Leaving Theo’s, Francine walked slowly down to the old harbour and strolled along. The pungent smell of fish hung in the air as she passed two or three fishermen sitting on upturned lobster pots on the quay mending their nets. None of the boats moored alongside the quay were as big as the ones she was used to seeing in Dartmouth, with their large wheelhouses and big inboard engines. These wooden work boats, scarcely bigger than a large dinghy with either small inboard engines or just an outboard motor clamped to the stern, looked more suitable for an inshore lake than the Mediterranean Sea to Francine. Briefly, she wondered how on earth with such small craft they managed to catch enough fish to earn a living.

Further along the quay she passed several small fibreglass yachts before slowing to admire a beautiful classic sailing boat, its varnished hull and stainless-steel deck fittings gleaming in the afternoon sun. A man busy coiling ropes on the port side of the yacht glanced in her direction and she recognised the man she’d seen in the cafe that morning. She definitely felt that she knew him. That he had been a part of her past. As she stared at him trying to work out who he was he smiled at her.

‘I thought it was you this morning. Want to come on board, Frankie?’

She gave him a startled look. Nobody had called her Frankie for years and then there had only ever been one person who dared to.

‘Piers?’

‘The one and only.’ He held out his hand to help her jump on board.

‘I thought it was you this morning,’ he said. ‘But I was too busy to come over and check. You’ve still got that lovely smile of yours.’

‘I’m surprised you recognised me,’ Francine said. ‘There was something familiar about you I couldn’t quite place. And it was a different cafe.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’ve got it now though – it’s your hair.’ Piers’s hair had always been the bane of his life but the envy of all her girlfriends. Thick and curly, his father had insisted he had a close crew cut which he hated. Now it had a fair amount of silver and grey amongst the black curls and whilst this morning it had been tied back in a man bun, now it was long and untamed. ‘It really suits you.’

‘Thank you, my papa, he still not like my hair. It’s great to see you. I heard about Oscar. Is that why you’re here?’

Francine nodded, glad that Piers hadn’t offered his condolences. ‘Yes. First time for thirty-six years and I have to say it feels more than weird being back.’

‘Time for a coffee? Or a glass of wine?’

‘A glass of wine would be lovely,’ Francine said. ‘It’s been a bit of a day.’

‘Grab a seat in the cockpit and I’ll fetch us a bottle and some glasses and we can have a good catch-up.’

Francine sat in the cockpit as instructed and let her thoughts drift back to the days when she and Piers had been part of the group she’d hung around with for those two weeks of summer every year. That last holiday before her eighteenth birthday the gang had made the most of their soon-to-be curtailed freedom. University or full-time work loomed for everyone in a few weeks and they all knew that their lives would inevitably change direction. Days were spent swimming, sailing, picnicking under the stars on the beach, nighttime sails over to Saint Marguerite. The drastic change to her own life when Oscar had virtually thrown her out of the house had caught Francine unawares. She’d never expected to lose touch with her friends virtually overnight.

Piers climbed up into the cockpit and handed Francine a glass of wine. As they clinked glasses he said. ‘Santé. Here’s to old friends.’

‘Old friends,’ Francine said, remembering how close the two of them had been that last summer. There had been no time to see anybody before she had flown home. Besides she’d been too upset to even try to say goodbye to anyone, especially Piers. She couldn’t face telling him what had happened. If only she’d realised it would be so long before she saw him again.

Piers took a sip of his wine before looking at her. ‘After you disappeared without saying goodbye I went to see Theo. He explained what had happened with Oscar and that he had no idea when or if you would be back. He advised me to be patient.’

‘That sounds like Theo. Years too late to apologise but I’m sorry for running away like that. Not telling you I had to leave.’