by T A Williams
‘I saw your light on last night on the way home from the beach bar. It must have been two or three in the morning. Were you still working?’
David nodded. ‘That’s the problem with having business connections in the USA. They’re up and running when the rest of us would rather be in bed.’ Jess wondered what sort of business he was in, but decided it would be rude to pry at this stage. He paused and then she was surprised, and pleased, to hear him ask an unprompted question.
‘Did you have a good time at the beach bar? Did you get to practice your French with the people there?’
Jess shook her head. ‘I’m afraid my French is still very much schoolgirl French. Luckily everybody round here seems to speak English. And yes, thanks, I had a good time and I bring you good wishes from Terri. She sends her love. You remember her?’
‘Yes, of course. Is she still with Louis?’
Jess was delighted at his interest, and she sensed his father’s surprise.
‘Yes, and Louis says hi as well. Oh yes, and big Pete.’ She took a deep breath and decided to go for it. ‘He was telling me all about your accident. It sounded horrific.’
She heard what sounded like a sharp intake of breath from George, and saw David’s eyes fall. But, to her great satisfaction, he didn’t clam up.
‘It must have been. I don’t really remember much about it, except for a sensation of spinning, falling.’
Jess did her best to keep the conversation going.
‘Pete told me your boat cartwheeled for a hundred metres.’
‘It must have been something like that.’
‘All because of a shipping container.’
‘That’s right.’ He hesitated for a moment and then looked up blankly. ‘So bloody stupid, isn’t it? All this just because somebody on a freighter miles away didn’t tie a container on tight enough.’
His voice was strained and, as he spoke, his hands waved helplessly towards his legs. Jess immediately felt a wave of sympathy for him. Nevertheless, she was delighted she had managed to involve him in a real conversation for once. She glanced across at his father, who was looking stunned.
‘Is there some of that lovely Chablis left, George?’ She saw him nod, so she returned her attention to his son. ‘David, can you spare a few minutes to come down and join us to talk about things that need doing here in the villa? It would be very useful for me if you could.’
‘All right.’ Her spirits soared. ‘Just give me a few minutes to finish what I’m doing and I’ll be down.’
As she and George walked back down the stairs, he surprised her by catching hold of her hand giving it a squeeze.
‘That was amazing, Jess. Have you any idea what just happened up there?’
‘Am I right in thinking he hasn’t spoken much about the accident?’
He squeezed her hand again before releasing it. ‘He’s never spoken about the accident. That’s just about the first time he’s even acknowledged it happened. Jess, I could hug you.’
Jess saved him the trouble. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, she stopped and looked across at him. His eyes were welling up, so she stretched her arms around his waist and gave him a warm hug, feeling him shake with emotion as she did so. Then she kissed him softly on the cheek and stepped back.
‘He’s doing well, George. And so are you.’
‘Jess, I really, really hope so.’
David was true to his word and came down to join them less than five minutes later. Jess was impressed to see that he appeared on his crutches, rather than in the wheelchair, and she sensed that this was also progress. Brutus got up and gave him a warm welcome while his father poured the drinks and they settled down, looking out over the sea. The sun was setting off to the right of them and the palm trees in the garden already cast long shadows. It was a delightful warm – but not suffocatingly hot – evening and Jess felt relaxed and very, very satisfied that her gamble appeared to have paid off. She decided to get down to business.
‘So, I’ve got a list of suggestions. Would you like me to read them out to you?’
Both men nodded, so she started with something she hoped would make them laugh. She was determined to keep the tone light.
‘If it was my house, I’d lay a bit of carpet or linoleum on the floor of the lift. I got a good view of my knickers as we came up in the lift and I imagine any other woman using it would have the same problem.’
George smiled and, just for a second, a flash of something appeared on David’s face. Encouraged, Jess continued with her list, running through major works like rewiring the whole house, to less invasive jobs like removing the bathtub from the lounge and constructing a glass barrier as a windbreak on the terrace. She opened her laptop and showed them a number of photographs of renovated bathrooms, so they could see the various colours she had chosen for the bathroom furniture in the past, as well as the floors and tiles. Last of all, she came to the kitchen and made a practical suggestion.
‘The kitchen could definitely do with a revamp, maybe even an extension, but I suggest we have a word with Antoinette first. She’s the person who uses it every day and we need to make sure we give her what she needs.’ She closed her laptop and set down her pencil and pad. ‘Give me a day or two and I’ll draw you up some plans, so you’ve got something to work from, but tell me, gentlemen, any initial thoughts?’
She saw George exchange glances with David before replying.
‘Thank you very much, Jess. I don’t disagree with any of it and I especially like the sound of the windbreak outside. That way I might even be able to have my Christmas dinner on the terrace. I’ve only done that a few times in my life. It’s often warm enough in December, but we can get a cold wind off the sea or down off the mountains.’
George glanced at David again.
‘What do you think, David? Anything to add?’
Jess saw him shake his head.
‘All sound like great ideas.’ He paused as something struck him. ‘Will this work mean us having to move out, or could it be done around us?’
‘The only really disruptive job will be the rewiring. If you get a good contractor, I see no reason why it couldn’t be done pretty quickly, though. I had a quick look behind a couple of plugs and it would appear that your father’s architect had the good sense to put the wires in conduits, so it shouldn’t be necessary to rip out too many great chunks of plaster from the walls. Anyway, you could always move into the guest house for a couple of weeks while it’s going on.’
‘But where would you go?’ George sounded concerned.
‘Depending on how soon an electrician could start, I’ll most probably be back in the UK and out of your hair by then.’
Jess saw clear regret on George’s face, but his son’s expression remained inscrutable. Undeterred, she carried on.
‘Have you got a trusty electrician by any chance? Maybe Antoinette knows somebody?’
George beamed at her.
‘Even better. Antoinette’s husband is an electrician, and a very good one. He’s the chap who did the few bits of rewiring downstairs. I can ask her to ask him.’
‘Excellent. See if he can come and give you an estimate. Remember, you need three things from him: how much it’s going to cost, how long it’s going to take, and when he might be able to start.’
‘And isn’t his cousin or his uncle a plumber?’ David was thinking aloud. ‘He could probably do the bathrooms for us.’
Jess was delighted to hear David join in and take an active part in the conversation. Seeing him so animated, she decided to try a little bit of positive reinforcement, although she sensed she was on thin ice. Affecting a nonchalance she didn’t feel, she made an observation.
‘I was wondering while we were walking round whether we should take the opportunity to make this place more wheelchair-friendly – you know, ironing out a few steps, putting in a ramp or two. But then I thought to myself, that’s not really necessary, is it? David, you’re looking pretty good on crutche
s, so I imagine you’ll be out of the chair for good before long.’
Her words were followed by silence. In reality it probably only lasted a few seconds, but to Jess, it felt like an age. Then, to her infinite relief, David answered. His voice was strong, even if he didn’t look up and meet her eyes.
‘I really hope so.’
Jess caught George’s eye and Jess felt she could read hope, and maybe respect, in them. Encouraged by the reactions of both men, she made a show of rubbing out one of her bullet points and observed, ‘Fine, that’s one less thing to be done.’
Reaching for her glass, she took a big mouthful of the ice-cold wine and breathed a silent sigh of relief.
Chapter 14
The next few days passed quietly. The weather remained very pleasant and Jess settled into a routine of swimming, sunbathing, walking the dog, working in the garden, wandering into St-Tropez for a coffee or to do some shopping and – whenever she could – chatting to George. Alas, David was conspicuous by his absence most of the time. Still, Jess remained hopeful that the first stirrings of recovery she had noticed in him on Sunday evening might continue to develop.
On Thursday Jess got a text message from Olivier, inviting her out for dinner the following night. This immediately made her stop and think. She did her best to explain it to Hope over a cup of coffee and a fresh croissant in their kitchen.
‘He’s a really nice guy. I’m sure if I go out with him I’ll have a good time, but I’m not feeling any real attraction.’
‘Because of the attraction you feel for somebody else.’ Hope sounded quite confident of the truth of her assertion.
‘Maybe… I don’t know, Hope.’ Jess took a sip of coffee to give her time to marshal her thoughts. ‘It’s a funny thing. Somehow, I feel a real link to this place and to George and David. Both of them. Whether my feelings for David go beyond the friendship stage, I really can’t say.’
‘From what I’ve seen, they do. I’ve known you for years and years, Jess, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen that look in your eye before.’
Jess looked across in surprise. ‘What look in my eye?’
‘Lust, Jess.’ Hope gave her a knowing look and a wink and Jess felt herself blushing. ‘That feeling that you’d like to tear his clothes off and ravish him. The feeling I get every time I see Max – but then, you see, that’s what I do.’
‘Hope, please, not in front of Brutus!’
Jess glanced down at the dog, stretched out on the cool floor. Hearing his name, he opened one eye, checked that no food was forthcoming and relapsed into his comatose state. His interest in the opposite sex had been surgically removed by the vet some years previously, so at least he was spared these concerns. Jess smiled down at him and did her best to respond to her friend’s observation.
‘I will admit that when I saw David in the pool, before I knew about his accident, I did think he was pretty hunky. And the day I inadvertently gave him my Miss Wet T-shirt show, it actually did feel rather good, in a naughty sort of way.’ She glanced at Hope, who was nodding. ‘But the thing is, now that I know the extent of his injuries – that’s both physical and mental I’m talking about – I really don’t know what my feelings for him are, after all.’
‘What do you mean?’ Hope sounded as puzzled as Jess herself was feeling.
Jess tried again.
‘The overriding feeling I have towards David is one of pity. I feel really, really sorry for him. For such an active, energetic man to be cut down like this and reduced to crutches and even a wheelchair is so tragic. I look at him and I feel like crying.’
‘He’s still the same hunky, handsome guy, Jess.’ Hope’s voice was encouraging. ‘So, he’s a bit less mobile. He’ll get better, or he’ll come to terms with it, and you’ve got to do the same thing. Otherwise, what are you saying? That seeing him in a wheelchair stopped you fancying him?’
‘God, Hope, that makes me sound like such an awful person. It’s not that, I’m sure. It’s not that I don’t still find him attractive, it’s just that the first thing that springs into my head, and my heart, when I see him is this feeling of pity.’
Hope tactfully got up and went over to the sink to wash the coffee cups, leaving Jess to her thoughts. Hope was right about the lust thing. From the very first time she had seen David, she had found him very attractive, physically attractive. Of that there was no doubt in her mind. And now, could it really be that his injuries had somehow made him less appealing? If that was the case, what did that make her? Superficial? Callous? It was an uncomfortable thought. But then something else occurred to her.
‘Besides, Hope, it’s all very well me trying to work out if I’d like to rip David’s clothes off and jump all over him. The simple fact is that he hasn’t shown the slightest interest in me. What’s the point of me doing all this soul-searching when the relationship isn’t going to go anywhere, anyway?’
‘Of course he fancies you. Are you blind, Jess?’
Jess shook her head slowly. ‘You heard what Terri said. There must be a queue a mile long for his affections – wheelchair or no wheelchair. He’s handsome, he’s rich – he’s bound to have somebody else already.’
‘So where is she, this other woman? We’ve been here over two weeks now and, to my knowledge, nobody’s come to see David. Doesn’t that strike you as a bit odd if he’s already got somebody?’
‘He told me he’s got business connections in the States. Maybe she’s over there.’
‘Rubbish. If she loved him, she’d be here, at his side. No, take it from me, Jess, you’re the one for David. I’d lay good money on it. In fact, I will. A hundred euros says you and he end up together.’
‘You might as well pay me now. It isn’t going to happen.’
‘Because of you, or because of him?’
Seeing that Jess wasn’t going to answer that one – mainly because she didn’t know how – Hope reverted to the original question.
‘So, what about Olivier, then, Jess?’
Jess looked down at the phone still in her hand. Slowly, she made up her mind.
‘I enjoy his company. I think I’ll say yes and go out for dinner with him – as a friend. That isn’t going to affect the way I think about David, is it? And, who knows? Maybe Olivier’s the man for me after all.’
The expression on Hope’s face made clear what she felt about this.
* * *
Olivier offered to come and collect Jess from the villa the following night, but she arranged to meet him at the beach bar instead. Looking back on it as she waited for him down on the beach, she realised that this decision had been motivated by a desire to avoid being seen by David in the company of another man. Whether this was just to spare his feelings because he was unable to go out, or for some deeper reason, was something she was still contemplating when she saw Olivier coming across the sand towards her.
‘Hi, Jess.’
‘Bonsoir, Olivier.’ Jess felt a wave of pleasure at the sight of him and gave him a hug and a kiss on both cheeks. ‘It’s very good to see you. Had a busy week?’
He shook his head. ‘Not really. Tuition’s stopped for the summer and most of the exams have finished. I’ve mostly been doing my own research.’
‘Still Second World War stuff?’
‘Yes. I’ve just got hold of records belonging to the German defenders – not just the Allied attackers. I’ll bore you with the details some other time. Anyway, if you feel like it, I thought we could maybe go up to the village of Ramatuelle for dinner. It’s up in the hills above St-Trop. Traffic permitting, it’s only about twenty minutes away. How does that sound?’
‘That sounds great, Olivier. Do you realise, Hope and I have been here for weeks now and we haven’t been out of St-Tropez even once!’
They drove out of town along the main road on which Jess and Hope had arrived, but then turned sharply to the left and were soon climbing into the wooded hills on increasingly narrow roads, negotiating a series of sharp bends. As they
climbed, so the views down to the coast got better and better. Olivier was a good driver and Jess settled back comfortably in her seat, doing her best to remember, as he pointed out a number of spots where he assured her she and the Labrador would be able to go for lovely long walks. She had already told him all about Brutus and the fact that she and Hope were doggy-sitting here this summer and trying to get him fit again. One walk, in particular, sounded particularly interesting.
‘While you’re in this part of the woods, keep your eyes peeled for any vestiges of the war.’
‘What, like bombs and things?’
He shook his head. ‘No, I imagine all that stuff got cleared up years ago – at least I hope so – but there used to be a number of gun positions and bunkers up here in the hills. See that track there? Try walking down it and then cutting up to the right. You’ll soon find some interesting relics. I enjoy coming across the ruins and imagining what it must have been like back then.’
Ramatuelle was a delight. They parked alongside a monument to the Resistance, a few hundred metres outside the village, and walked up along a tree-lined road to the centre. They came to a little square with a simple church, surrounded by a jumble of sun-bleached pink terracotta roofs. A lone olive tree, its leaves grey and dusty, stood at one end of the square, and from there a narrow road curled downhill, flanked by little restaurants. Olivier led Jess to one of these and they were shown to a table outside on the terrace in front of the restaurant.
The road continued to drop away from there and Jess could see out over the wooded hills right down to the Mediterranean, shimmering almost purple in the evening light. A light breeze blowing up from the sea just took the edge off the heat and the temperature was perfect.
‘Wow, what a super place. Thank you for bringing me here, Olivier. I must remember the way and bring Hope up here some time. And, like you say, we could give the dog a good walk while we’re in the hills.’
The menu was written on a blackboard that the friendly waitress brought over to them and propped on a neighbouring chair. Jess read through what was on offer and then waited to hear what Olivier was having, before deciding to have the same. They chose mixed salad with grilled goat’s cheese as a starter, followed by mussels. Instead of the traditional moules marinière, Olivier suggested they try the restaurant’s speciality, which was mussels with curry sauce. Always prepared for a challenge, Jess said yes and she didn’t regret it, although when they appeared, they were a rather off-putting lurid greenish colour. The taste, however, was excellent.
