A Rose Petal Summer

by Katie Fforde

  ‘I’ll come up with you,’ said Amalie. ‘I’ll bring your glass.’ She refilled the glass before she picked it up.

  Amalie followed Caro into the bedroom. Caro, having been so concerned with the perfume, had forgotten about the dress and now she wondered how it had survived the journey.

  ‘It’s a really lovely dress,’ said Amalie as they both inspected it for creases. ‘Shall I iron it for you? While you have a shower?’

  ‘Oh no, it’ll be fine.’ Caro wasn’t much of a one for ironing although she could see the once-crisp cotton was fairly crumpled.

  ‘No, I will do it,’ said Amalie. ‘You wash; I will iron. You need to look your best.’

  ‘Are the other guests important then?’ asked Caro, suddenly longing for a repeat of the quiet dinner she and Amalie had enjoyed the previous evening.

  ‘Oui,’ said Amalie, unhooking the dress from its hanger. ‘Pascal is hoping one of them will invest in his and Alec’s business.’

  ‘What business?’ Alarm cut through Caro’s fatigue.

  ‘Did they not tell you? They want to set up in business together and Alec can work from Scotland if he invests a little money in a laboratory.’

  Caro’s alarm became deep gloom. She could see why Alec and Pascal would want to do this, but it was all going to happen without her.

  ‘You have forty minutes to get ready,’ Amalie told her. ‘I will leave the dress here for you when I have ironed it.’

  It would take me at least forty minutes to iron that dress, Caro thought as she made her way to the bathroom.

  She was terribly tempted to just lie down on the bed and sleep when she came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Instead she went to inspect the dress, which now looked as if it was fresh from the shop. Excitement began to bubble up inside her – this was an opportunity for her to show Alec she could scrub up and look glamorous – well, glamorous for her. She must do it!

  She focused hard on getting her make-up right; then she put on the dress and looked at herself in the mirror and liked what she saw. She wasn’t perfect but she was, she reckoned, the best version of herself that she could be. And this, as all the magazines insisted, was enough.

  Her hair shone, even if it was a little damp. The dress looked lovely, even without the bouffant petticoat she had worn when she first tried it on. Her own ballet flats went with the dress and the bit of bronzer that had been among the large range of skin-care products that Amalie had provided made her shoulders and décolletage look sun-kissed and golden. She tried out a smile and decided while she would never be twenty again, she was a pretty good version of forty-one.

  Chapter Twenty

  Caro made her way downstairs and followed the sound of voices on the terrace. It was a delicious summer evening, she decided. The air was warm, the roses scented the air and there were beautiful, elegant French people talking and laughing in an elegant, French way. She was wearing a dress she felt good in and her hair was clean. Added to that she was two glasses of champagne up. No wonder she was excited and happy.

  Alec noticed her approach and separated himself from the group to meet her.

  For a moment he just gazed at her and then he said, ‘Caro! You look amazing.’ He went on looking at her, as if he’d never seen her before, and then shook his head slightly. ‘Come and meet everyone.’

  If she could have just stayed there forever, with him looking at her like that, she’d have done anything to make it possible. Instead she let him usher her into the group, his hand on her waist.

  ‘Oh!’ one woman said in very accented English. ‘You are wearing a vintage Laura Ashley dress?’

  ‘Yes,’ Caro began, wondering if she should confess to it being borrowed.

  ‘It is a very English look,’ said the woman firmly, leaving Caro uncertain if this was good or bad.

  Alec made the introductions and it seemed that all the guests were connected with the perfume business in some way or another. They had all heard the story of the lost perfume and how Alec had recreated it.

  ‘So, what is it like?’ asked one woman. ‘And is the young woman it is being made for suitable? There is a reason why perfumes are made for individuals. Their body, their personality, their character, the essence of their womanhood. It has to be right. Maybe it would be preferable for this woman to have her own fragrance.’

  ‘Well,’ said Caro, who felt it was up to her to describe – and possibly defend – Scarlet, ‘this woman is young but she has known this perfume all her life.’

  ‘How so?’ asked a man who, unlike the rest of the group, seemed more detached and was possibly a little arrogant.

  ‘Her grandmother was Serena Swan’s dresser – her maid. She had a small quantity of the perfume in her possession when Serena Swan died. She kept it all her life and was very close to Scarlet, which is why Scarlet loves it so much. She associates it with her grandmother.’

  ‘I am not sure a woman should think of her grandmother when she smells a perfume,’ the man went on. ‘She should think of her lover, her husband.’

  ‘In part I do agree with you,’ said Caro, ‘but as it is her fiancé who is giving her this special gift, a perfume that is only for her, I think she will think of him when she opens the bottle and applies it to her pulse points.’

  ‘Alec,’ said Pascal, who joined the group and refilled glasses. ‘Describe the perfume.’

  ‘Well,’ said Alec, ‘the base is quite spicy, cedar, must, amber …’ He looked across at Caro, obviously wanting to include her in the description.

  ‘Jasmine, neroli, and hedione also,’ she provided.

  ‘And the top notes?’ the man went on.

  ‘Quite a lot of citrus,’ said Alec, ‘bergamot.’

  ‘It sounds very classic,’ said the slightly older woman.’

  ‘It was created in the thirties,’ said Caro. ‘It will be of its time.’

  ‘Will we be allowed to smell the finished article?’ asked a man whose name Caro didn’t know.

  ‘We’ll have to ask Scarlet about that,’ said Alec firmly.

  Caro silently applauded this attitude. He could have got a lot of kudos had he let these influential people see what he could do with regard to creating an original perfume, but he knew his first loyalty was to Scarlet and David who had given him this opportunity.

  ‘Let us eat,’ said Amalie, clapping her hands.

  To her discomfort, Caro found she was separated from Alec and the joy went from the evening. The setting was still as lovely and she felt good in her dress – having the label recognised was a definite plus, even if it was ‘a very English look’ – but it was what she had feared: she had to concentrate very hard to follow the French and she was actually quite tired.

  Alec was next to the older woman and near to another man, both of whom had shown a great deal of interest in the perfume. Amalie, when she had asked Caro to sit between two charming-seeming Frenchmen (hardly a hardship), had explained that Alec’s dinner companions were interested in employing him, even before they had sampled Scarlet’s perfume. Pascal, she discovered, had been telling people how good Alec was.

  By the time the cheese was served, conversation had become general and animated. More wine was served with pudding and then brandy and liqueurs. Alec and Pascal were up the other end of the table. Pascal was talking earnestly and Alec’s face was in shadow. Caro couldn’t help thinking that soon Alec would move to France and set up his perfume business. It would be so much easier for him there, with access to colleagues, and helped by the money he would earn from recreating Scarlet’s original scent. Then she wouldn’t see him, even if she kept in touch with Lennie and Rowan in Scotland.

  She twisted the wire from a champagne cork into a little chair, wondering what she would do with her life when she went back to the barge, when she wasn’t making perfume, protecting old gentlemen or sorting out rebellious teenagers. She’d miss it terribly.

  Suddenly Alec was at her side, clicking his fingers with impatience. ‘Excu
se me,’ he said to the group, ‘but I need to talk to Caro without delay. Caro? May we have a word?’

  Delighted to be relieved of trying to get her tired brain to remember all the French she had ever learned, Caro got up quickly and hastened to Alec’s side.

  ‘Come on!’ he said urgently, setting off into the garden at a frantic lick.

  She hurried after him, anxiety increasing with her pace. ‘Alec! Slow down! What’s the matter? Is it Murdo? Has something gone wrong with the perfume?’

  Alec stopped suddenly.

  ‘It’s not the blasted perfume,’ he said fiercely, ‘it’s you! I can’t put this off for another second.’ Then he pulled her into his arms.

  When they had kissed each other breathless, he said, panting slightly, ‘I’m sorry, but I just kept thinking of the hours slipping away talking about perfume—’

  ‘Which is your passion—’

  ‘But Caro – we’re here in France, away from all the other worries and distractions – we can’t spend every minute of it thinking about base notes and synthetic ambergris!’

  She laughed, happiness bubbling up from inside. ‘You’d better go and say goodnight to everyone. These people could be important to your future career.’ She pushed away the shadow caused by the thought of his career which might well mean he moved to France if making perfume in Scotland wasn’t feasible. This was a night for joy.

  He looked down at her and nodded. ‘I should. Now wait here,’ he said firmly. ‘I’ll be back.’

  He set off but after a couple of paces he turned round and came back, took her face in his hands and kissed her again before setting off towards the party.

  Caro stood still, anticipation sharpening every sensation. The fragrance of the evening was stronger, the faint sounds of birds and small creatures were louder, the stars were brighter and the surface of her skin was hypersensitive. The slightest touch and she would catch fire.

  Alec was back with her very shortly. ‘Come on!’ he said, and took her hand.

  It had been a while since her last relationship but she was so certain this was right, she wanted Alec so much the butterflies in her stomach were excitement, not anxiety.

  If she’d allowed herself time to think about it she would have realised there was a glimmer of sadness among the joyful anticipation. This might be their only night together before their ways were parted by circumstances, but she wasn’t going to let that spoil it.

  He kissed her again when they were just inside the bedroom door. ‘This is what you want too, isn’t it?’ he said.

  ‘Yes!’ she said, breathless from kissing.

  ‘It’s what should have happened when we met, all those years ago on that Greek island.’

  He pushed the strap of her dress down and kissed her shoulder. ‘You have got lovely shoulders.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And you smell lovely, too.’

  The amount she’d spent on her perfume she jolly well should smell lovely, she felt.

  ‘I can’t wait to make a perfume just for you,’ he said, breathing in her fragrance. ‘I know what you wear already was what made me recognise you, but I want to make you something entirely yours. I’d start with something woody, cedar possibly, and then—’

  ‘Alec? Please? Can we not do this now? If you tell me every ingredient, I’ll feel obliged to write it down and there are things I’d rather do instead.’

  His laugh was a low rumble as he unzipped her. ‘True.’

  Her dress crumpled to her feet and she stepped out of it, standing before him in her underwear.

  The way he looked at her made her forget she was wearing a rather tired bra and chain-store knickers. She felt beautiful.

  It was late morning when Alec and Caro went down to the kitchen and Caro really hoped that Amalie, who was there, couldn’t instantly tell what they’d been up to. But Amalie’s knowing smile told her this was a vain hope.

  ‘Bonjour!’ she said, kissing them both three times. ‘I will make you an omelette. Some protein for breakfast. Essential!’

  Alec and Caro exchanged rueful glances. ‘Please don’t go to any extra trouble,’ said Alec. ‘Bread and butter will be fine.’

  But Amalie wouldn’t have it. She insisted on making omelettes and giving them large bowls of coffee to restore their energies.

  She joined them for the coffee. ‘Pascal would like a word and, like me, wonders how long you can stay? I would love to have you for as long as possible.’

  ‘I’m afraid we’ll have to go back later today,’ said Alec. ‘Now we’ve made the perfume, we must get it to our client and Caro is helping my sister organise Scarlet and David’s wedding.’

  ‘It will be very good for you, Alec, having a such an important celebrity client,’ said Amalie knowingly.

  ‘I hope so.’ Alec picked up his coffee bowl and had a sip.

  ‘It is partly why you are being so sought after at the moment,’ Amalie went on.

  ‘I wouldn’t have had the client if it wasn’t for Caro,’ he said. ‘Now we need to get our things together. Could we order a taxi? While I’d be more than happy to take the motorbike to the airport, I think Caro would prefer a car.’

  ‘Very boring of me,’ Caro said, secretly thrilled that Alec hadn’t forgotten how he acquired his prestigious client.

  ‘But you’ll be back? Amalie asked Caro.

  ‘I really hope so,’ she replied, not sure what her future held.

  On the journey back Caro was prepared for Alec to tell her of his future plans and that those plans might not involve her. She couldn’t bring herself to mention it – the moment never seemed right. It was not something you could ask in the queue for security, or while they were taking their shoes on and off. Caro spent most of the flight dozing with her head on Alec’s shoulder. She guessed that Alec, like her, was wondering what the future held for them.

  At last the flight and all procedures were over and Ewan was there to drive them home. Caro closed her eyes again and let Ewan and Alec chat about estate matters without her joining in. She was glad she’d had this extra rest because the moment they pulled up, Lennie came rushing out of the house to greet them.

  ‘You’re back! Thank goodness! There’s so much going on!’

  ‘We’ve only been away for about forty-eight hours, Len!’ said Alec, sounding tired. ‘Surely not that much can have happened.’

  ‘You’d be surprised!’

  Alec gave his sister a quick, comforting hug. ‘Just let us get in the door – please?’

  A meal and a certain amount of good Scotch whisky later and things were a lot clearer. David and Scarlet were due to arrive the following day, which was part of the reason Lennie was a bit overexcited. They wanted to stay in the house, not the local hotel. It was a trial before the wedding.

  ‘So I’m afraid I’ve put you in the box room, Caro, as your room was the only one halfway decent,’ Lennie said apologetically.

  ‘Caro can stay with me,’ said Alec.

  ‘What? In the but and ben?’ said Lennie.

  ‘No, in the cottage,’ said Alec. He seemed a bit sheepish. ‘I moved there to be nearer the house. For Dad …’ He didn’t seem to know where he was going with this and looked relieved when Lennie spoke.

  ‘But it’s only got one bedroom,’ she said.

  Caro found herself blushing. It was ridiculous. She was forty-one years old, single, and there was no reason whatever that she couldn’t sleep with a similarly single consenting adult, and yet she felt hugely embarrassed.

  ‘I hope I’m not speaking out of turn,’ said Alec. ‘But Caro and I are together.’ His eyes met hers and his expression was warm, amused and just a little bit questioning. ‘Aren’t we?’

  Caro smiled and nodded. ‘Yes we are. And I’m very happy to share the cottage with Alec.’

  ‘Oh!’ said Lennie. ‘Well, I’m delighted obviously …’ She hesitated, obviously wondering if this was going to affect her plans in any way.

  ‘You don�
�t need to think about it,’ said Caro. ‘It’ll just save making up a bed.’

  ‘OK,’ said Lennie, still a bit unsettled. ‘In other news, you have more solicitors’ appointments to go to, Alec. It’s to do with setting up the new lasting power of attorney. I have to be there too.’

  Alec sighed. ‘Got to be done, I suppose. Although I thought we’d signed everything in the hospital the other day.’

  ‘And, Caro? Will you be able to help me with David and Scarlet?’

  ‘Of course. Anything you need.’ Caro smiled firmly, hoping to give Lennie the message that while in Facebook terms her status might have changed to ‘in a relationship’, she was still the helpful woman she was before.

  ‘It’s not quite a chateau,’ said Alec as they approached the cottage.

  ‘It’s delightful, and so much better than a caravan,’ said Caro.

  He squeezed her arm apologetically. ‘I’ll get the fire going. We can have a nightcap.’

  ‘It’s summer!’ said Caro.

  ‘I love fires in summer. There’s something faintly decadent about them. And we need something to take the chill off. I’m not entirely confident about my sheets.’

  Caro laughed, beside herself with happiness. ‘It doesn’t take long to get down to the basics, does it?’

  He kissed her.

  ‘Maybe a hot-water bottle?’ suggested Caro. ‘If the sheets are damp?’

  ‘A fire and some whisky first,’ said Alec firmly. ‘A hot-water bottle only if we’re desperate.’

  Caro was delighted to be in the cottage legitimately. She loved it. It was very traditional, with whitewashed stone walls and low, beamed ceilings. There were rugs and sheepskins draped over the furniture and floor, turning austerity into luxury.

  ‘This is what I was promised when I first came here,’ she said.

  ‘I still feel bad about that,’ said Alec.

  ‘You can make it up to me later.’

  ‘It’ll be my pleasure,’ he said with the warm, twinkling smile that turned her insides upside down.

  As they hurried along to the main house at five to eight the following morning, Caro remembered that today Scarlet would smell the two versions of her perfume. While it didn’t really matter which one she liked best, as long as she liked one of them, her pride was at stake. She had insisted Alec made two versions and wouldn’t let him just replicate the recipe from M. Dolinière. She was going to feel a bit silly if Scarlet couldn’t tell the difference.