The Summer Getaway_A feel-good romance novel perfect for holiday reading

by Tilly Tennant

  ‘And for you?’ he asked.

  ‘Us?’

  ‘You like grapes? Here…’ He pressed another paper bag containing a smaller bunch into her hand. ‘No charge. You try them, you will come for more, I guarantee.’

  ‘Wow, thank you!’ Ashley smiled.

  The man gave a little nod. ‘You are welcome. Tell Violette I wish her well for her birthday.’

  ‘We will,’ Molly said.

  The man waved them off as they left his stall and continued on their perusal of the market.

  ‘Wow, he was lovely,’ Ashley said.

  ‘Perhaps him and Violette had a thing once. He looks about the right age,’ Molly said with a wicked grin. She pointed to a stall loaded with glistening pastries. ‘Fancy a nosey at the less healthy options?’

  ‘What was that about spoiling our lunch?’ Ashley asked with a sideways look.

  ‘Right…’ Haydon clapped his hands together as he surveyed the market square where canopied stalls stood on the gleaming cobbles, stocking everything from stuffed toys to locally made wine. ‘Supplies. What shall we get first?’

  A fruit stall caught his eye, where a trader was lazily wafting a wasp from a mound of juicy-looking nectarines. The movement almost looked too smooth and swift for a man who seemed to be way past retirement age, but it wasn’t a great leap of the imagination to wonder if life in such a pleasant climate, minus traffic fumes and stress and all the other things that characterised Haydon’s own life back in England, was a good prescription for a healthy old age.

  ‘I suppose I’d better get you some of the good stuff. Just so we can say so to your mum when she asks what I’ve been feeding you on all week. I know she expects me to answer with Toblerones and hamburgers so let’s impress her, eh?’

  ‘I like fruit.’

  ‘I know, but we’re on holiday – I thought you might decide fruit was too boring on holiday.’

  Ella shrugged. ‘It looks nice.’

  ‘I know what you mean. Everything somehow looks better and tastier when it’s displayed out here in the sunshine rather than in a dingy supermarket back home.’

  They began to make their way over. ‘So what do you fancy?’ he asked as they walked.

  ‘Bonjour,’ the stallholder greeted them. ‘Ca va?’

  ‘Bonjour, bien, merci,’ Haydon replied uncertainly, and clearly the vendor recognised the accent immediately as he made a smooth switch to perfect English.

  ‘You are on holiday?’

  ‘Yes,’ Haydon replied with a degree of relief that he wouldn’t have to continue in French. His command of the language wasn’t too bad, but he’d had practically no cause to recall any of it for a great many years and he wasn’t sure just how much he’d be able to remember under the pressure of having to. ‘Just arrived yesterday.’

  ‘You are staying at the hotel?’

  ‘No, at a villa – hence the need to buy lots of food. I’m afraid we’re not very well prepared.’

  The man laughed. ‘Plenty of food here and we will all be happy to take your euros!’

  Haydon smiled. ‘I’m sure.’

  The old man looked at Ella. ‘Bonjour, Mademoiselle. What would you like?’ He handed her a purple grape the size of her thumb. ‘You like grapes? You try this and tell your papa if you want to buy.’

  Ella took it and glanced at Haydon, who gave a tiny nod before she popped it into her mouth.

  ‘It’s lovely,’ she said, but Haydon wondered if she was saying that just to please the old man or whether she really meant it. But the grapes looked pretty good and they’d doubtless eat them if he bought some.

  ‘I’ll take that bunch,’ he said, pointing. ‘And perhaps some apples?’ he added, looking at Ella, who nodded.

  ‘Peaches too,’ Ella said. ‘And strawberries…’

  The stallholder chuckled. ‘You like the fruit?’

  ‘Yes,’ Ella said, her smile suddenly shy as Haydon paid for their shopping.

  The old man waved them off as they left his stall, and Haydon’s attention turned to one piled with bread and pastries of all kinds. The vendor there was just bidding farewell in English to a woman and a girl who was already tucking into a croissant from a paper bag as Haydon and Ella arrived so it was another easy interaction if he shopped here for their bread. For a moment Haydon’s attention was caught by them and he stared after the pair as they walked away. Did he know the woman from somewhere? He shook his head slightly. Perhaps it was one of his ex-pupils? Whoever it was, they were already disappearing into the crowds of the market, and to chase down someone that he may or may not know seemed a little crazy, so he let the notion drop and fixed a smile on Ella again.

  ‘Look at all this cake,’ he said, nodding at the stall as the woman who ran it greeted them with a warm smile. ‘Now we can really spend some money!’

  ‘Bonjour, Monsieur,’ the stallholder said. ‘Can I help you?’ She pushed a strand of hair the colour of nutmeg away from her face and smiled as she smoothed it behind an ear. For the first time he was able to see her properly, and Haydon stopped and stared. And then he realised he was staring as he gave a hasty reply.

  ‘Um… we’re not sure what we want yet.’

  ‘Take your time,’ she said. And Haydon found himself staring again, despite trying so hard not to. Her long hair was tied back in a loose knot at the nape of her neck, her eyes were a startling green and her skin was the colour of warm caramel. Her limbs were slender and she wore her simple white T-shirt and capri pants with elegant ease. Haydon tore away his gaze and turned to see that even Ella was looking at the stallholder with awe.

  ‘You are on vacation?’ the woman asked.

  ‘Yes, arrived yesterday.’

  ‘You like Saint-Raphaël so far?’

  ‘It’s lovely,’ Ella said. ‘Though we haven’t seen much of it yet.’

  ‘Breakfast first,’ Haydon said, sinking his hands into his pockets in a bid to look casual. ‘You live here?’

  She shook her head. ‘In Fréjus – it’s not too far away. I visit all of the local markets in the area.’

  ‘That sounds like a nice life.’

  ‘It is hard work.’ She smiled. ‘I must get up very early.’

  ‘You don’t look like it,’ Haydon said and wished he hadn’t as the heat travelled to his face. What a ridiculous thing to say. What a ridiculous reaction he was having to this woman, especially with Ella standing right next to him, but she was so impossibly beautiful that he couldn’t help it. ‘I mean, if I got up really early every day I’d look a mess… not great… if you see what I mean…’

  ‘Are you married?’ Ella asked the woman, and Haydon whipped round to stare at her. But the stallholder simply gave a musical laugh.

  ‘No, I am not married.’ And as she said it she shot a swift glance at Haydon. Was she flirting with him? He hardly dared imagine he’d be so lucky – she was way out of his league. In fact, she was way out of the league of any man alive.

  ‘My mum and my dad aren’t together any more,’ Ella said, and this time Haydon widened his eyes in a silent warning.

  ‘We’ll get some pain au chocolat,’ Haydon said, desperate to steer the conversation away from such mortifying territory. Had it been that obvious he fancied this woman like mad? And did he seem so desperate for a girlfriend that even Ella was trying to matchmake now? ‘And perhaps half a dozen croissants to see us through tomorrow morning too, eh, Ella?’

  ‘But of course,’ the woman said smoothly, clearly aware that he was uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation, though at the corners of her mouth tugged a smile that spoke of amusement too. She began to pack the croissants into a bag.

  ‘How many pain au chocolat?’

  ‘Four?’ Haydon asked, looking to Ella for approval. Ella, perhaps realising herself just how she’d overstepped the mark, simply gave a silent nod and then looked at her feet. The woman packed the pains au chocolat too, and then spoke to Ella directly.

  ‘Mademoiselle…’ />
  Ella looked up to see the woman was smiling sweetly, holding out a pink-iced cupcake. ‘For you.’

  Ella took it, breaking into a broad smile. ‘Thank you!’

  ‘You are welcome. Your papa is a lucky man to have such a beautiful and loving daughter.’

  ‘I know it,’ Haydon said, pride swelling in his breast as he looked at Ella now. She’d only wanted to see him dating, see him happy. He hadn’t realised until this moment that she’d perhaps been hoping to see that for a long time, especially as her mum had moved on with Kevin. Perhaps she understood better than he gave her credit for that Haydon found it painful to see Kevin take his place in their household. But it was hard to understand at Ella’s age that life or love wasn’t so simple.

  ‘Will you be here again?’ Ella asked.

  ‘In two days,’ the woman said. ‘But I will be at markets in Port Grimaud and Fréjus also.’

  ‘We’ll come back, won’t we, Dad?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Haydon said.

  ‘Bon.’ The woman gave Ella a warm smile. ‘I am glad to have met you. And you also, Monsieur,’ she added, turning to Haydon with a smile that was rather more coquettish.

  ‘Haydon,’ he said. ‘My name’s Haydon. And this is Ella.’

  ‘My name is Audrey. I hope to see you again, Haydon and Ella.’

  He gave her a dopey smile and picked up his bags. ‘We should probably get going…’

  ‘Of course. Goodbye.’

  Ella whispered as they walked away, ‘She was so pretty!’

  ‘Yes,’ Haydon said in a carefully neutral reply.

  ‘And she’s not married,’ Ella said, licking the top of her cupcake. Haydon glanced down at her. She wore a wide-eyed look that he recognised well: her you must believe I’m not up to anything look.

  ‘It doesn’t mean she’s not dating. And she’s French.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Ella…’

  ‘Yes?’

  Haydon shook his head. ‘Never mind. Eat your cake, and if you still have room for ice cream after that I’ll be amazed.’

  ‘That’s weird,’ Ashley murmured as they walked towards the exit of the market and back into the streets of the old town where colourful doors in pale stone houses ran in higgledy-piggledy rows and every window box was stuffed with bright flowers. The sounds of the market were already fading to a murmur, but the sweet scent of the goods on offer still hung in the warm air.

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Huh?’ Ashley shook her head and realised that the thought had also come out of her mouth.

  ‘Oh… the pastry was cheaper than I was expecting, that’s all.’

  ‘I’d have thought it would be a good thing, not weird,’ Molly said.

  ‘Well, yes,’ Ashley replied with a vague smile. ‘It is, but I was just wondering how I’d got it wrong.’

  ‘Because – and I say this with love – you can be a bit scatty.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Ashley looked askance at her daughter. ‘I’m pleased to hear that I command such respect and awe in you. Scatty?’

  ‘I did say it was said with love,’ Molly replied.

  ‘That makes it alright then.’

  ‘If it makes you feel any better then I think I’m scatty too.’

  ‘Not really, because that would make it my fault.’

  ‘It might not. I do have more than one biological parent, you know.’

  It was a flippant comment, and ordinarily Ashley would have attached no significance to it. For Molly, not knowing about her father had never really been an issue, and it was as natural a reality to her as it was for her friends to have a regular nuclear family. She’d never been bitter about it, though sometimes over the years she’d been curious. Ashley had told her as much as she knew – which wasn’t actually very much at all – and that had been enough for Molly. She loved her mother and she didn’t need anyone else. And sometimes, when schoolfriends came in with stories of embarrassing or overprotective fathers, Molly had even told Ashley that she was glad only to have a really cool mother.

  Ashley tried not to connect what Molly had just said with the man she’d glimpsed in the market. He had looked so remarkably like a man she’d once known, one she had no wish to see again, that she’d felt the blood leave her face and her heart almost stop. He’d turned to chat to a teenage girl by his side and Ashley, shaken and confused, had ushered Molly away as quickly as she could while trying to pretend that all was normal.

  But it couldn’t be him. Here, in Saint-Raphaël, of all places? Now, of all times? That would be ridiculous. And he must have changed a lot in sixteen years – she was sure she had – so she’d probably barely recognise him if she did see him now. Ashley gave herself an internal prod and chased the thought away. It was ridiculous, and there was no point in worrying about it because it would only ruin her holiday. It was probably some random bloke with a passing resemblance and it wouldn’t be the first time she’d seen someone who’d looked a little like him, though she’d never felt quite so shaken by it before.

  ‘Mum?’ Molly nudged her. ‘Are you listening? Do you want me to save one of these pastries for you or not? Because I can totally eat them all.’

  ‘What about lunch?’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ She grinned. ‘I’ve got a fast metabolism – lunch will be no problem.’

  ‘You eat them,’ Ashley said. ‘I can wait now.’

  As they walked past the church the clock bells struck the hour. Ashley counted eleven chimes. They hadn’t been out for long, but for some reason she suddenly felt sapped of energy and she wanted nothing more than to sit in the shade of Violette Dupont’s veranda and rock gently on the old swing seat. It would be lunch soon anyway, so perhaps Molly wouldn’t mind if they headed back a little earlier than they’d planned. Ashley would make it up to her later, go to the beach or swimming or something.

  ‘Maybe we should get some flowers for Violette and head back. It’s going to take a little while to walk and we don’t want to rush in this heat. After lunch, when things cool down, we can venture out again.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Molly said, licking her fingers as she finished off the second pastry. ‘I can FaceTime Imogen anyway – it’s her birthday and her parents are taking her out later.’

  ‘I bet she can’t wait for that,’ Ashley said with a wry smile.

  ‘I think they’re getting on a lot better,’ Molly said. ‘At least her mum hasn’t thrown a drink at her dad for the last few weeks, so they must be making progress.’ She slipped her arm through Ashley’s to walk with her. ‘At least we don’t have any of that crap to worry about when it’s just me and you and we get on really well.’

  Ashley forced a smile that felt as if it had no right to be on her face. Molly was right, but why couldn’t she shake the unsettling and random idea that everything was about to change?

  Haydon checked his watch. ‘I think we’re about done. It’s eleven fifteen now and it’s going to take us a while to walk back to the villa, so maybe we should start back?’

  ‘We can get ice cream first?’

  ‘You’re not going to give up on this, are you?’

  Ella grinned. ‘Nope.’

  ‘Well, if you can walk with it you can have it. I don’t want to risk this food going off in the heat. But if you want to wait we can come straight back and spend the afternoon here and you can eat ice cream until you hurl.’

  ‘Dad!’ Ella groaned. ‘Sometimes you’re so gross.’

  ‘Not funny?’

  ‘Not as funny as you think.’

  ‘Hmm…’ Haydon said, pretending to be deep in thought. ‘That’s disappointing.’

  ‘But you are quite funny. Sometimes.’

  ‘When I’m not with you?’

  ‘Usually,’ Ella replied with a grin.

  Haydon was quiet as they wandered the old town looking for an ice-cream parlour. He’d spent a great deal of the morning trying to work out whether Audrey’s flirting had been flirting at all. Surely a
woman that gorgeous couldn’t be interested in someone like him? And yet the signs had been there. He wondered what she would say if he ran back there and asked her to dinner. But then he had Ella to think of too, and it didn’t seem very responsible to get involved with a local. He supposed they could take Ella with them, though it would hardly be romantic. Perhaps that would be OK, though.

  And then, for some strange reason, something else came back to him. The English woman he’d seen leaving Audrey’s stall before he arrived. In the back of his mind, that had been bugging him too. She’d looked so familiar – and then all at once it came to him. She looked exactly like the girl he’d had a one-night stand with in Ibiza. He hadn’t thought of her for a long time now, and he’d stopped wondering where she was and what had happened to her. It hadn’t been his intention for it to be a one-night stand – in fact, he’d almost fancied he’d fallen for her that night. He’d left his number before rushing off for his early flight, but she’d never called him, and he’d taken that as a sign that she’d either been ashamed or appalled by their liaison, that she hadn’t fancied him in the same way he’d fancied her, or that it was nothing new to her and she treated all her one-night stands as just that, with no desire to make them anything more lasting. He’d been a little hurt at first, but once he’d met Janine all that had faded.

  The woman he’d seen in the market had a girl with her – perhaps a little older than Ella. Had his fling from all those years ago settled down? Maybe she’d found Mr Right, had kids, a successful career, the perfect family, the whole shebang. He hunted in his memory for a minute; what had she been called? Ashley – that was it! It was all he had. They’d been too drunk to exchange surnames, or if they had he didn’t remember. He didn’t even know where she was from; all he had was the memory of a sexy accent that sounded like something northern, though he couldn’t even begin to say where. As for recalling her face, he wasn’t sure he could until he’d seen the woman in the market just now; the more he thought about it, the more the details came back to him.

  ‘Dad.’ Ella pointed to a pink-and-pistachio-striped awning, interrupting his reverie. ‘I think that’s the ice-cream place there.’