Escape to the Riviera

by Jules Wake

  ‘My room’s the same. I can hardly wait for the morning.’

  ‘Glad you came?’

  ‘Of course I am.’

  ‘I’m very relieved this place is okay—’

  Carrie let out a laugh. ‘You are the master of understatement. This place is a-ma-zing with capital everything.’

  ‘Thank goodness. I wasn’t sure you wanted to come with us. Not so soon after you and Al got engaged.’ She leaned over and laid her hand on Carrie’s. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For driving. We couldn’t have come without you.’

  ‘You don’t need to thank me, you daft bugger.’ Carrie shook her head as her sister’s eyes shone suspiciously brightly. ‘Honestly, what are you like? I’m getting a holiday. I’ve got my play to work on. And … I might be able to track down my errant husband.’

  ‘What … Richard?’

  ‘How many husbands do you think I’ve got? Although I need to get rid of him pretty quickly.’ Carrie let out a peal of laughter. ‘Oh, Lord, that sounds like I’m planning to bump him off.’

  Angela snorted into her wine glass. ‘It does a bit. Murder aside, why the hurry?’

  ‘Al wants to get married in October.’

  ‘Yikes! Can you get a divorce that quickly?’ Angela shot a quick look towards the door. ‘Although if you can’t, he’ll wait.’

  Carrie studied the way the light refracted and danced from the solitaire diamond of her ring.

  ‘You haven’t told him.’ Angela suddenly accused. She put her wine down with a firm chink, liquid slopping everywhere. ‘I don’t believe you. Why didn’t you tell him?’

  Carrie winced, still looking at her ring. ‘Because it sounds weird. Hey Al, guess what? I’m married to an international A-list superstar actor. Have been for the last ten years.’

  ‘See what you mean. He’s bound to wonder why you never mentioned it before.’

  ‘It’s not that, it’s confessing the whole impetuous-marriage thing. How do I explain that?’

  ‘You were young and in love?’

  ‘I know but he thinks I’m sensible and responsible.’

  ‘You are … now.’

  Carrie loved her sister, even though they couldn’t be more different. Trust Angela to pass over her wild, impetuous youth with one brief word.

  ‘He’s so decent, I don’t want him to think badly of me and I don’t know how to explain that I’m not that person any more.’

  ‘I think you’re worrying unnecessarily. That’s my department, remember? He asked you to marry him. He loves you. Alan’s a lovely guy. Of course he’s going to forgive you a youthful indiscretion. I think you ought to tell him.’

  Carrie sighed. ‘I think I’ll wait until I’ve at least got the divorce under way. It sounds pathetic not being able to divorce your own husband because you have no idea of how to get hold of him. I’ve checked – you can’t do anything without an address.’

  ‘How are you going to get that?’

  ‘He’s here.’

  With an almost involuntary movement, Angela checked the corners of the room.

  ‘Not here, here, you noodle. In France.’ Carrie took a swig of wine. ‘Filming on the Riviera.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, for the next two months.’

  ‘The Riviera’s quite big you know, it stretches all the way up to Monaco, about a hundred miles.’ Angela had been reading guidebooks from the library for the last two weeks with the intensity of a student cramming for finals.

  ‘I know but, stroke of luck, the man in the car-hire place told me some of the places they’ll be filming. And one is down the road from here.’

  ‘What are you going to do? Camp out there, until they show up? How will you know where to find the film people? And will he even be there? How will you find him?’

  ‘He’ll be in the biggest trailer,’ said Carrie flippantly.

  ‘But what if you don’t find him?’

  ‘Then I’ve lost nothing. It’s not as if I’ve got a better place to start. Besides the car-hire man said they were filming in a market near here, Ramatuelle. All I have to do is go and hang out on market day.’

  And when is market day?

  Carrie grinned. ‘Thursday and Ramatuelle is the next village.’

  ‘What this Thursday, as in two days’ time, Thursday?’

  ‘Well, I don’t know if they’ll be filming this week, but I figure it can’t hurt to keep visiting each week until they do turn up. Besides, I thought the tourist office would know if there’s a film crew on the loose, especially with a star as big as Richard.’

  ‘Smart thinking. Very smart.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  Dust motes danced in the brilliant beams of sunshine that streamed in around the edges of the drapes. Carrie couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face. With delicious anticipation she lay in bed for a few minutes, wondering what lay beyond the curtains, before padding across the floor and flinging them open, her eyes blinking into the high sun.

  Squinting until they grew accustomed to the intensity of the light, she drank in the view. What a clever, clever design. Her corner balcony hung over the incline, where the hill fell away, leaving the sensation of being on a platform suspended above the valley. Ahead of her, in the still morning air, she could see the curve of green hills, interspersed with glimpses of hidden properties among the wooded slopes and beyond that the sea, azure-blue sparkling with white-crested waves.

  Sitting down on the terracotta-tiled floor, nicely warm already, she slipped a leg each between the bars, letting them dangle, swinging each leg in opposition, with the sheer pleasure of being able to do nothing but please herself and pretend that she was almost in mid-air. It had almost been so long, she’d forgotten the simple and unique pleasure of the sun kissing her limbs. She leaned back on her arms, tilting her face upwards, like a flower.

  ‘Carrie! Carrie! Over here?’ Jade’s excited voice came from the terrace. ‘There’s a pool down here and everything.’

  She waved lazily, wondering quite what ‘everything’ entailed.

  ‘You’ve got to come down and see it. Mum’s made breakfast and there’s an outdoor table. Come on.’

  With a sigh Carrie hauled herself to her feet. Plenty of time of peace and solitude in the next few weeks.

  ‘Good morning.’ Angela, of course, had laid the table. Before Carrie even sat down, her sister picked up a cafetière brimming coffee, the grounds at the top almost frothing over the lip of the glass.

  ‘Coffee,’ groaned Carrie, ‘that smells amazing.’

  She sniffed and clutched the cup to her. ‘Bliss. Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Ish. I woke up early. Strange bed.’

  ‘Carrie, Carrie come and see the pool.’ Relinquishing her coffee and charmed by her niece’s sudden childlike enthusiasm, she joined her at the poolside. For once Jade didn’t have a scrap of make-up and was still in her pyjama shorts and vest top. She looked her age for once, without that world-weary smartarse cynicism she often adopted.

  ‘Isn’t it awesome?’

  Carrie laid an arm across her shoulder and took in the view, the pool in the foreground, with its red-and-white stripy, padded sun loungers and the low, lean lines of the house in the background. ‘Absolutely. Awesome.’

  Replete with croissant and coffee, Carrie sat on the edge of the pool, her legs stretched out in the sun watching Jade dipping her toes in the water and shrieking with the cold and begging her to come in.

  After breakfast, they settled in the sun loungers, sticky with sun cream, smelling slightly of coconut. Jade plugged herself into her phone, lying prone on one of the sun loungers, in outsize Jackie Onassis sunglasses, holding the screen up to read out periodic text messages of sheer envy from her friends. Delighted with the stash of cookery books she’d commandeered, Angela sat in the shade with a note pad, scribbling things down and occasionally tearing off a strip of paper and tucking it into the pages and askin
g random questions, such as ‘Have you ever had duck à l’orange?’ and ‘What do you think of bouillabaisse?’

  ‘Did you know Kim Kardashian has three hundred and eighteen pairs of shoes?’ announced Jade, reading from the screen on her phone. ‘That’s mad.’

  Carrie tried to concentrate on next year’s drama text, wondering how on earth she was going to interest her Year 10s of the political depths of the play and the tragic characters of Mother Courage and her children, when they were more concerned with the antics of a mad American family, rich idiots in one of London’s wealthiest suburbs and has-beens in a pretend jungle.

  ‘Eeuw! That bloke from Towie got a new tattoo on his you-know-where.’

  The day set a pattern of lazing on the patio by the pool, occasionally retreating into the kitchen to get more soft drinks.

  Over dinner, cooked by Angela, as happy in the kitchen as out by the pool, they talked about their plans for the rest of the week.

  ‘The lovely thing about being here all this time, is there’s no rush to do anything,’ said Angela. ‘I don’t feel the least bit guilty for not going off and exploring.’

  ‘We’ve got to go to some of the famous places, though,’ said Jade. ‘I want to tell my friends I’ve been to St Tropez. Do you think we could blag our way onto one of those big yachts?’

  ‘I doubt it very much,’ said Angela, putting a bowl of salad on the table, alongside a platter of garlic-cooked prawns gleaming pink in their shells.

  ‘Mmm, those smell heavenly.’ Carrie’s stomach let out a yowl of support, making Jade and Angela giggle.

  ‘Sorry.’ She rubbed at her middle.

  ‘Sounds like Chewbacca on heat,’ said Jade. ‘What’s the plan for tomorrow?’

  Angela and Carrie exchanged a quick glance.

  ‘Let’s play it by ear and see how we feel,’ suggested Angela. ‘We’ve got this lovely pool and it’s so peaceful. I’d quite like to chill for a few days. Perhaps we can go out somewhere the day after tomorrow. Maybe explore Gassin. It’s supposed to be beautiful.’

  After dinner Jade plugged herself into her phone

  ‘You going tomorrow?’ asked Angela, sotto voce, even though Jade couldn’t possibly hear.

  ‘Yes, I thought I’d leave early. I’m more worried about finding somewhere to park than finding my way. I’ve got my phone.’

  ‘That’s all you’re worried about?’ asked Angela, her eyebrows almost taking off. ‘What if the film crew isn’t there?’

  Carrie swallowed, that was about the only thing she wasn’t worried about. If the film crew didn’t turn up, then her worries stopped right there. She wouldn’t have to worry about looking like a crazy fan, trying to blag her way through minders, security people or some clipboard official in charge of cordons. She wouldn’t have to worry about what would happen if she did get through. She wouldn’t have to worry about someone passing her message on to him. And if, after all that, she got that far, she wouldn’t have to worry about what to say to Richard on the phone if he called her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  She gave the butterflies in her stomach a stern talking to as she crept along the hall. They had absolutely nothing to get in a tizz about. Now all she had to do was pray that she could leave the house before Jade woke up and she had to answer any awkward questions.

  Of course, no one paid the least bit attention to her prayers.

  ‘Carrie, wait! Where you going?’

  She’d taken two scant steps out of the front door. Her heart sank like lead weight plummeting to the absolute depths of the ocean. Seriously? Was someone having a laugh?

  ‘I thought I’d pop out for an early-morning drive, perhaps bring us some fresh croissants back.’ Carrie kept walking, the car keys in her hand. ‘Quick explore.’

  ‘Great idea. I’m starving. Get me to la boulangerie. That’s French for bread shop isn’t it? Ooh they’ll have chocolate croissants. Pain au chocolat. I’ll come with you.’ Jade stooped down and slipped on her flip-flops and padded down the steps.

  ‘You don’t want to do that. Stay here. I might be a while.’

  This was as bad as that time when she was eighteen and almost at the front of the queue in Boots with a pack of condoms and her mother bearing down despite arranging to meet outside Woolworths.

  ‘That’s okay, I don’t mind.’

  ‘Yes, but I might stop somewhere. A market.’ Carrie had reached the car door, narrowly averting disaster by remembering at the last minute not to get in on the passenger side. ‘Visit a couple of churches,’ she said, with the flourish of a poker player producing a Royal flush. There, the C-word. If that didn’t put her off, nothing would.’

  ‘No worries. I’ve got my phone, my sunnies.’ She waggled her sunglasses up and down from where they’d been perched on top of her head as she drew level with Carrie on the other side of the car. With a sudden grin, she added, ‘And I can scrounge some cash from you if I need anything.’

  ‘What about your Mum? You can’t leave her on her own all day.’

  ‘It won’t be all day, will it?’ replied Jade, with infuriatingly correct logic. ‘Besides she’s happy as anything in that kitchen. She’s not going to miss me. Probably like having the place to herself.’

  Jade swung open the passenger door and plonked herself in the seat, reminding Carrie of an over-eager family dog in anticipation of a day out.

  This was going to be a disaster. If she did stumble across the film crew by some incredibly happy and coincidental accident, how the hell would she get rid of Jade? These days a Mars Bar and illicit Coca Cola wouldn’t cut it as a bribe. They weren’t quite as alluring as they’d once been. Jade’s taste had broadened as well as going up dramatically in price, although these days you needed to take out a loan for a simple chocolate fix.

  ‘I think we should wait for your mum to get up and see if she wants to come too. At least tell her we’re going out.’

  ‘That’s dull. Where’s your sense of adventure? Carte blanche. Seize the menu. We should go now. Mum won’t mind.’

  Carrie paused. Her sense of adventure had long since got up, packed its rucksack and two-man tent and hiked out of Dodge. Seizing a menu was much more her style. Sadly.

  ‘It’s carpe diem—’

  ‘Duh! I know that. Anyway it’s too late because there’s Mum.’

  ‘Morning! You two running away already.’

  ‘Hi, I’m heading off to see if I could find a bakery and bring back some fresh croissants but Jade stopped me. Would you like to come too? We can wait if you want to get ready.’

  Angela immediately understood.

  ‘That sounds lovely. Jade, have you switched off your hair straighteners?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  Jade shrugged.

  ‘I thought not. Go back and check them now.’

  ‘Mummm!’ She slouched back into the house.

  Carrie shook her head. ‘Your daughter’s a blinking limpet. I thought I’d never shake her off.’

  ‘If I come with you, you can ditch both us and you can check out the market.’

  ‘Or I could do a runner now?’

  ‘And what … your life would be worth living for the next few days?’ Angela laughed. ‘Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready. You can treat us to those croissants for breakfast.’

  Carrie took it slowly. It was a gorgeous morning and the views around each bend were distracting, with their frequent glimpses of sea, when she needed to focus on the task of changing gears with the wrong hand.

  ‘It’s mega-blue. Do you think its bluer than other places?’ asked Jade from the back seat. ‘Is that why they call it Côte D’Azur? Azure’s a posh word for blue.’

  ‘I’ve no idea, but it’s lovely.’ Carrie was concentrating on the road, to be honest.

  The drive didn’t take very long at all and suddenly they were on the outskirts of the village.

  ‘Sing out if you see a car park,’ said Carrie, manoeuvring c
arefully as the streets closed in, the high kerbs and unfamiliar position on the road making her slightly nervous. And there was traffic, lots of it, some of which demonstrated an unnerving style of driving. A horn blared from the Mercedes behind them when she slammed on her brakes to avoid a small white van veering out of a side street, cutting right in front of them. It wasn’t even her fault. She glared in the mirror, not that the owner of the great white beast behind them could see. Angela’s hands twisted on her lap and she shrank back from the door, her shoulder touching Carrie’s.

  ‘I did read in one of the guide books that you take your life in your hands driving on the Riviera.’

  ‘You did, did you? Thanks for the heads’ up.’

  Angela coloured. ‘I didn’t …’

  ‘I’m teasing.’ Carrie reassured her, knowing that her sister would worry that her comment had been misconstrued. It had the potential to worry Angela for days. ‘The drive from the airport turned out absolutely fine. You get idiots like that at home.’

  Angela relaxed and Carrie heaved an internal sigh.

  ‘Let me entertain you, leeet meeee …’ Jade burst into song, thrusting her arm through the gap between the front seats to indicate a blue parking sign pointing to the left. ‘Let meeee spot the car park for you.’

  ‘Oh dear god,’ muttered Carrie. ‘Thanks, Jade, for your timely directions.’ She swerved into the turning, to a fresh cacophony of horns. She might as well join the mad local drivers.

  ‘You said sing out … I did.’

  ‘I don’t think yelling in her ear is terribly helpful, Jade. You might have distracted her.’

  ‘Might have, I almost hit that cyclist.’

  Jade shrugged. ‘You’d have driven straight past it, if I hadn’t.’

  Why saying in a normal voice, ‘there’s a car park over there,’ wouldn’t have worked perfectly well, Carrie didn’t know.

  ‘Isn’t this lovely?’ Angela kept stopping to examine the flowers overflowing and trailing down from window boxes perched on the stone stills of sun-baked houses and peering up at the vines growing from pots that crowded into the narrow streets. The lush greenery tracing its way across the walls with fingers of ivy and tendrils of wisteria was thrown into vibrant contrast by the warmth of old brick and peach washed stone.