Dreaming of St-Tropez

by T A Williams

  ‘We’ll be at the restaurant in five minutes.’ David smiled again as he glanced down at her hands on his arm. Shyly, she removed them.

  ‘Thanks for the support. So the restaurant’s near here, is it?’

  ‘Up there. Look.’

  Jess followed David’s pointing finger and spotted a low building, perched on a rocky outcrop, thirty or forty metres above a beautiful little cove.

  The launch delivered them to a stone jetty and as they climbed out, the only sounds were the lapping of the water and the squawks of a handful of seagulls. It seemed unbelievable – so close to the bustle of the Côte d’Azur – to find somewhere so tranquil. She looked up and wondered how they – and David in particular – were going to get up the sheer rock face to the restaurant. She needn’t have worried. Tucked into a deep fault in the rock was a glass lift that whisked them up in a matter of seconds. Waiting for them, as the lift doors opened, was a very smartly-dressed, dark-haired lady who gave David a beaming smile.

  ‘Signore Dupont, buona sera. Welcome back.’

  ‘Good evening, Stefania. It’s good to be back.’

  Jess heard a note of insecurity in his voice and shot him a covert glance. For a moment his eyes met hers and she read uncertainty in them. He was looking a bit nervous – presumably as this was his first outing since the accident. She reached over and caught his forearm briefly, giving him an encouraging squeeze.

  Stefania led them to a table on a terrace with a panoramic view out over the sea. But it wasn’t so much the view that astounded Jess as the other guests. The very first table she passed contained a group that included no fewer than two Formula One world champions, another a very famous – and noticeably very drunk – Hollywood film star on his own, while a discreet table for two in a distant shady corner held what might have been the third in line to the British crown with his fiancée. Jess gulped a few times and tried to remember how to recognise the symptoms of a panic attack.

  As David made his way along the terrace on his crutches, a number of people recognised him and stood up to shake his hand or kiss his cheeks and wish him well. He responded to all of them, although the look of discomfort hadn’t left his face. As for Jess, her knees were trembling so much, it was all she could do not to keel over. When they reached their table and she could sit down, she felt as if she had just done ten rounds in a boxing ring.

  She looked across the table at David in awe.

  ‘A bit posh? This place is incredible. I feel like I’m in a dream.’

  ‘Don’t worry about the people. It’s the food that counts. And, believe me, this place really is incredible when it comes to food. I’ve been coming here for years and it’s always been excellent.’

  Jess found herself wondering how many girls he had brought here over the years and whether their reaction had been the same as hers. The thought of herself as just another in a long line of his girls was disconcerting and she had to struggle to keep the distaste off her face. For a moment, the dead eyes of Drugoi’s ‘companions’ crossed her mind and she found herself reflecting that, as far as the other diners here tonight were concerned, she doubtless fell into that same category – something pretty on a rich man’s arm. It wasn’t a pleasant thought and she did her best to ignore it. But it wasn’t easy.

  Instead, she directed her attention to the view out across the little bay. The water was clear and transparent at the shore, and a rich deep blue further out. The only sign of human life was the vapour trail of a jet far above them, and a gaggle of expensive-looking speedboats and launches moored at the mouth of the bay – presumably those used by their fellow diners. It was stunningly beautiful but, the more she looked around, the more she felt like a fish out of water – albeit in a seafood restaurant.

  ‘So, first impressions?’

  ‘It’s just it’s all so… so amazing.’

  He must have picked something up from her tone. She saw him nod.

  ‘But you don’t like it.’

  ‘No, David, no. Of course not. How could anybody not like a place like this? It’s just that it’s a bit…’ Her voice tailed off uncertainly as she did her best to think of an appropriate adjective. Ostentatious sprang to mind, but she didn’t mean to sound rude. The fact was that he was right – she didn’t like it. Or rather, she thought to herself, it wasn’t really the place, it was the fact of finding herself in the midst of such opulence. She had been out to a fair number of posh restaurants in London with Rafael and his friends, but nothing like this. She didn’t belong here, and she knew she was so far outside her comfort zone she could have been on another planet. She saw him nod his head again.

  ‘That’s sort of what I expected. If it helps, I feel the same way now. I’ve been wondering about it for ages and it struck me forcefully the moment we walked in here. It’s a lovely place and, like I said, the food is to die for, but I no longer feel comfortable here – and it’s not because of my legs. Once upon a time I felt at home in environments like this, but that’s all changed. And I’m glad you feel the same way.’

  To her surprise – and delight – he reached across the table and caught hold of her hand in his.

  ‘I owe you so much. I wanted to give you a treat. That’s why I thought I’d bring you here, but it was also to prove something to myself. You may think you feel out of place here, but so do I now. I realise that. Those months in the hospital really affected me. They changed me.’

  At that moment, a waiter appeared with menus and a wine list, and this meant that she had to relinquish David’s hand – with a feeling of regret. There were no prices marked on the menu – at least not on the one given to her – but in a place like this, that didn’t come as a big surprise. She scanned through the different dishes on offer – all written in three languages: Italian, French and English – and wondered what to choose. There were so many things there she had never ever tried, and several that meant nothing to her at all. What on earth was Amberjack tartare on watermelon ice crush with coffee powder? After a few minutes, she looked across at David.

  ‘What do you suggest?’

  ‘The menu here changes regularly so there are some dishes on the menu tonight that I’ve never had. It depends how you feel. Personally, I think I’m going to go for stuff I’ve had here before and loved. I’ll start with their mixed seafood antipasti, followed by deep-fried zucchini flowers with caviar. If I’m still hungry after that, I might have something simple like a plate of pasta or sea bass.’

  ‘Zucchini… courgette flowers?’

  ‘That’s right. They have a big bright yellow flower. Here they deep fry the flowers and serve them with caviar and warm toast. It’s exquisite – at least I think so. And the seafood starter is really not to be missed. It’s sort of their signature dish.’

  Jess shut her menu and dropped it on the table.

  ‘Then I put myself in your hands. I’ll have what you’re having.’

  ‘And what about wine? White suit you? They’ve got a stunning Menetou-Salon – at least they used to have. Would that do?’

  ‘I have no idea what a Menetou-Salon is, but, like I said, I’m in your hands.’

  Menetou-Salon turned out to be a white wine from the Loire Valley, near Sancerre, and this one was quite simply the best wine Jess had ever tasted. It was crisp, it was dry, and yet it left a rich, lingering taste of honey in the mouth after every mouthful.

  The seafood antipasti were a voyage of discovery. First, Jess and David were each brought a small plate with three large prawns in a spicy, rusty red sauce. These were delightful and Jess ate them with relish, wondering what the courgette flowers for the next course were going to taste like. However, she had a long wait before they reached the courgette flowers. No sooner had they finished the prawns than their plates were removed and replaced with new plates, this time with a cold salad of tiny octopus in olive oil. These were followed by sashimi with homemade green wasabi sauce. After this came three exquisite grilled sardines, arranged in the shape of a triangl
e with a lone scallop in the middle, and so it went on. And on. And on.

  After almost an hour, Jess watched the final little plate of starters disappear back into the kitchen and gave a deep sigh.

  ‘Now I understand why you brought me here. That food was unbelievable.’

  ‘So you liked it?’ David’s expression was inscrutable.

  ‘I loved it, David. All of it. Even those spiny black things with the slimy yellow innards.’

  He laughed. ‘The sea urchins. Here in Italy they call them ricci di mare – “sea hedgehogs”. They’re a real delicacy, but I’ll grant you they wouldn’t win any beauty contests.’ His eyes met hers for a moment. ‘So are you happy we came here?’

  Jess nodded emphatically. She glanced around and saw that the tables were now almost all full, but she didn’t dare check out the faces of the new arrivals in case she found herself even more embarrassed. She looked back at David.

  ‘It’s without doubt far and away the best food I’ve ever had in my life, and the view is terrific. And my dinner companion’s pretty great as well.’ She reached over and caught hold of his hand. ‘You’ll have to excuse me if I was a bit overwhelmed at first. This sort of thing is all so new, so different.’

  To her delight he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her softly on the knuckles.

  ‘Nothing to excuse. In fact, I’m delighted we both feel the same way – not that I always did.’ Seeing the expression on her face, he went on to explain. ‘Before the accident – back in my previous existence – I used to do a lot of this sort of thing. I once flew to Marrakesh for dinner and back again, just for the hell of it. You do stupid things when you’ve got stupid amounts of money.’

  He was still holding her hand in his and his eyes were trained downwards onto it as he continued.

  ‘The accident didn’t just affect me physically. It made me do a lot of thinking about my life.’ Just for a moment he raised his eyes towards her. ‘I spent all my life before then thinking I was immortal. I did all sorts of crazy things, took appalling risks, without the idea of dying, or being injured, even crossing my mind. Now, over these past months – most of them lying on my back – I’ve had a lot of time to think.’

  He kept hold of her hand as a waiter appeared, removed the bottle from the ice bucket, replenished both glasses, and then disappeared again like a ghost.

  ‘Coming here is something I’ve been dreaming of for months. You know you said Hope used to spend ages dreaming of St-Tropez? Well, when I was at my lowest ebb – and believe me, that was low – the one thing I kept dreaming of was this place, and the antipasti we’ve just had.’

  ‘I can believe that. It’s been amazing. Yes, I can imagine you lying there in your hospital bed, dreaming of this fabulous food. And, like I say, I’m having a wonderful time – it just took me a little while to acclimatise. But above all, I’m honoured – and very grateful – that you chose me to come with you on your first outing.’

  ‘I’m the one who’s honoured. And I hope it won’t be the last.’ He released her hand as a waiter approached. ‘Well, anyway, next time, you choose where we go.’ He caught her eye for a few seconds. ‘That’s if you want there to be a next time?’

  ‘Do you need to ask?’

  The bright yellow courgette flowers were lightly fried and so delicate in texture and flavour, they almost melted on the tongue. The taste of the caviar was amazing. She took her time over the dish, savouring every mouthful and glancing over, from time to time, at the man across the table from her. After a while, seeing him looking as relaxed as she had ever seen him, she decided to ask something a bit more personal.

  ‘So, when you were lying in hospital, what else did you dream of – apart from this place? What about people?’

  He had just cleared his plate and he sat back, taking a big mouthful of mineral water before replying.

  ‘I thought about my mum. You know she died last year. And I thought about my dad. He’s had a tough time.’ He caught her eye. ‘I now realise I could have done so much more for both of them.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘I used to fly back over here for a few days when I could, but I spent most of my time in California working – or enjoying myself. Even when I knew she was sick, I could have made so much more time to spend with her, but I didn’t. And after her death, I could have been – should have been – so much more supportive of my dad, but I wasn’t.’

  Jess could hear the guilt in his voice and she did her best to reassure him.

  ‘They both knew about your job. You’ve done so amazingly well – that needs an awful lot of time and effort. I’m sure they understood that.’

  ‘I wish I could believe that.’

  Jess did her best to move the conversation on.

  ‘And what about all your friends?’

  Jess would dearly have liked to add the words girlfriend or wife, but she didn’t dare. As it was, he answered her unspoken question without needing to be asked.

  ‘I used to have a lot of friends – male and female. There was one girl I was very fond of, but, looking back on it, I treated her terribly.’

  Jess looked up in surprise.

  ‘Why, what did you do?’

  ‘I neglected her. Of course I bought her stuff, I took her places, I helped her career – she’s an actress – but I see now that she was never the most important thing in my life. She wanted kids. I thought they would slow me down too much, so I said no. She wanted me to spend more time with her, but I was far more interested in building up the business and in all the crazy things I was doing. I worked around the clock and I used to dump her in a heartbeat if somebody called up and suggested climbing El Capitan, or if there was a powerboat race coming up.’

  ‘And what happened?’

  ‘The inevitable – she left me. That was a few years ago. At the time I was devastated, but, thinking back on it, she did the right thing. It turned out all right for her. I’ve seen her from time to time since then. She got married a year or two ago and she’s got a gorgeous little baby girl.’

  ‘So do you think you’re different now? Does the idea of a family appeal now?’

  ‘If you’d asked me a year ago, I’d probably still have said no, but, after everything that’s happened, the new David Dupont – let’s call him Dupont 2.0 – would say yes.’ He took a sip of wine and looked across the table at her. ‘You see, the results of the accident aren’t just the physical ones you can see. I’ve changed, Jess. A lot. I’ve grown up. I’m a lot different now from the selfish, immature person I was before. I’m pretty sure that if you’d known me before the accident, you wouldn’t have liked me.’

  ‘I can’t believe that.’

  ‘It’s true. All I was interested in was myself, my work, and all the things my money allowed me to do. You find yourself living in a crazy world, among crazy people, doing senseless things, and you start to believe that it’s what you want. Months in a hospital bed and legs that don’t work are a pretty brutal form of cold turkey, but the result is what you see before you. Whether we’re talking about work, relationships or children, I really have changed.’

  He took another sip of wine and looked across the table at her.

  ‘What about you, Jess?’

  ‘What? Work, babies or boyfriends?’

  ‘Any of them.’

  ‘I haven’t really thought much about men for a while.’ She caught his eye. ‘I had a boyfriend for a couple of years, but that fell apart back before Christmas, and this year I’ve been concentrating on my career more than anything – until that bit of unpleasantness with the Russian. As far as babies are concerned, a normal prerequisite is a man, and I haven’t got one of those any more. If I manage to find the right one of those then, yes, I think babies might be a rather good idea – as long as I can juggle family and career. I enjoy being an architect, you know.’

  The waiter appeared to clear their plates and he enquired if they would like anything else. David glanced across at
Jess.

  ‘Some fish? A steak? Some pasta, maybe?’

  Jess shook her head. ‘Nothing, thanks. All that fish for starters has filled me up. But I’d be happy to watch you, if you’re still hungry. And I suppose there’s a chance I might be able to squeeze a little bit of dessert down a bit later on.’

  ‘How about I get a plate of pasta and two forks? You can have a forkful or two if you like the look of it.’

  ‘You go ahead, but the way I’m feeling at the moment, I doubt if I’ll feel like even tasting it.’

  In fact, when the plate of pasta appeared, Jess couldn’t resist trying it. David pushed it into the middle of the table and handed her one of the two forks the waiter had brought. Apart from the thin strips of homemade pasta, the plate was laden with clams, mussels, langoustines and chunks of what was unmistakably lobster. It was utterly delicious and, in spite of her conviction that she was full, she managed to eat several big mouthfuls before admitting defeat. As David finished the rest, she sat back and let her mind roam.

  She was delighted that he had opened up to her tonight, even telling her about his inner feelings and the sea change he claimed to have undergone as a result of the accident – not to mention his treatment of his former girlfriend. He looked as handsome as ever, although she knew full well just how vulnerable he still was. Holding his hand had felt very good, and the touch of his lips had sent shivers throughout her body. She glanced around the terrace, observing the rich and famous people who surrounded her, and wondered if he really meant it when he said he had finished with such ostentatious company. Certainly, he had sounded sincere and she tended to believe him.

  It was fully dark by the time they left. After the restaurant’s version of Death by Chocolate as a dessert, Jess felt sure she wouldn’t be able to eat again for a week. The launch ran them round the headland into the bay of Monaco and from there they took the helicopter home. As David had said, it was very noisy, but they were provided with headphones. She hung onto his arm all the way home and she would have leant her head against him, but for the headphones.