Escape to the Riviera

by Jules Wake

  ‘Carrie?’ He took off his sunglasses.

  The butterflies were back with a vengeance, rising with a great fluttering kerfuffle and then en masse sank back with a great thunk. It was him.

  She swallowed, completely struck dumb. It was as if her jaws had gone into spasm and absolutely refused to move.

  ‘Carrie? My God, it is you.’

  She stared and stared and stared. The face, once as familiar as her own, looked exactly the same. Those so bright, they couldn’t be real, blue eyes, that she’d seen filled with first- thing sleepiness in them, alight with laughter at a stupid joke and sharp with thought at a serious question. Now they registered surprise. Her heart almost stopped as she drank in the sight of him. Still utterly gorgeous, with that perfectly chiselled jawline, which she used to tease he’d borrowed from Action Man.

  The years vanished and, as if it were yesterday, she remembered walking hand in hand across Westminster Bridge in the dense drizzle of autumn. Yesterday, when they’d sat at the top of Primrose Hill, surrounded by the green shoots and early daffodils of Spring, unable to stop kissing each other. Yesterday, when he’d received the call. Yesterday, that painful stiff-upper-lip parting at Heathrow.

  He stepped forward, reaching out a hand, as if to touch her, and then paused.

  ‘What … are you doing here?’ he asked, looking equally discomfited and confused.

  ‘I …’

  ‘You look … well.’ His mouth curved into the sudden easy grin she knew, his eyes dancing with mischief. ‘I like the dress.’ And then he frowned, the dark brows drawing together in a sudden slash, as if trying to work something out that wasn’t right. ‘But not the hair.’

  With a sudden movement he pulled out the chopstick anchoring her hair. With the slight touch of his forearm against her face, her world turned upside down as her curls cascaded free, dropping down her back.

  He stood there, holding the chopstick, looking like a young wizard who’d performed his first spell and now wasn’t sure what to do. Carrie let out a breathless, musical laugh. It was typical of Richard: act first, think later.

  With a triumphant smile, he gave an approving nod, ‘That’s better. Much better. Now you look like you.’

  Carrie wanted to come back with something witty and snappy, half of her desperate to put him in his place for his sheer cheek and the other half wanting to impress him with her sang froid. Instead she smiled stupidly back at him, her heartbeat bursting into breakneck speed and a flush racing through her.

  ‘How are you? You look well.’

  ‘You said that already.’

  ‘I did, didn’t I? It’s amazing to see you. You look …’

  ‘You said that already.’

  ‘It’s not every day you run into y …’ Panic flashed in his eyes as if he realised he was about to step into dangerous territory. The W word would make it personal.

  ‘Your wife,’ said Carrie tartly, a punch of pain ricocheting around her chest. A wife he’d conveniently forgotten all too quickly once he’d got to Hollywood. By his second feature film, the phone calls and texts started to dry up, the conversations became more stilted and the pictures of him and his leading lady started to get regular billing in the gossip columns. As far as she was concerned, it had been a case of out of sight and very much out of mind.

  His face crumpled with something that might have been regret or at least she liked to think so. How the hell did she know? she hadn’t seen him for eight years. Now she studied him more closely, she saw the signs of self-possession. The clothes sharper and more chic, the blue of his shirt no doubt picked out specially to enhance his eyes and the trousers, linen and tailored, fitting him like a glove. Despite his urbane elegance, she couldn’t help remembering a time when he’d lived in baggy jeans and laughed at men who used personal-grooming products. The man in front of her looked as if he used them by the articulated lorry-load.

  He wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with, the same as she wasn’t the person he’d fallen in love with.

  She glared hard, to make him back off, and snatched the chopstick back, bundling her hair up and spiking it through viciously.

  ‘I didn’t mean …’ He took a step towards her.

  ‘Look, it’s him. I told you I’d seen him.’ From around the corner a coachload of young teenagers came and like locusts descended on them, homing in on Richard, their number forming around him, pushing her away until she was the outsider looking in, which was exactly as it should be.

  Over the tops of their heads he caught her eye, as she began to back away.

  ‘Wait Carrie. W …’ his voice was swallowed up by the excited chatter of the girls waving bits of paper and trying to take selfies with him.

  The sudden physical barrier was a welcome reminder of the divide between them. They were different people. That was a lifetime ago. There was absolutely no need to speak to him or have any contact with him. Thanks to the friendly film-crew girl, she didn’t need to. She knew where to find him.

  ‘Auntie Carrie. Auntie Carrie!’

  As she turned she saw Jade half-running and half-walking up the hill towards her. With a fleeting backward glance at Richard, who was still watching her, she strode forwards to meet her niece.

  ‘I found them,’ crowed Jade. ‘My sunglasses. They were in my bag all the time.’

  Desperate to get away and praying that Jade hadn’t caught sight of the commotion behind her, Carrie began to hurry towards her.

  ‘OMG. Carrie. Look, it’s someone famous,’ Jade stepped around her to look up the hill at where the girls were surrounding Richard, who had been spun round with his back to them. ‘I’ve got to get a selfie.’

  ‘Jade, no.’ She tried to grab her niece. ‘Leave the poor man alone, he’s already besieged.’

  ‘Do you know who it is?’

  ‘No idea,’ Carrie snapped.

  ‘I’m going to find out,’ Jade grinned with youthful determination. ‘One more selfie won’t hurt him, whoever he is.’

  ‘Jade!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m leaving right now.’

  ‘Don’t be boring. I’ll never, ever get the chance to see a sleb this close again. Come on, you can get a picture too. Your students will be dead impressed.’

  ‘I’ll go without you.’ She tried to put a hand on Jade’s, but she was off like a greased whippet, phone out.

  ‘Jade!

  ‘I’ll catch you up.’

  Carrie decided this was a lost battle and it would be better if she left – and quickly, before Richard turned around and linked the two of them together. Would he remember Jade from all those years ago?

  She hurried down the street, fighting the temptation to take one last look back. A few streets later, a piercing stitch stabbing into her side forced her to stop. Her whole body hurt but it had nothing to do with the stitch. Her face crumpled and she bent double trying to ease the pain.

  ‘I say, are you alright?’

  Jade loomed over her. ‘You look terrible.’

  For Jade to notice, she must have looked horrendous.

  Now that she stopped, dizziness overcame her and she swayed on the spot, praying that the light-headed sensation would recede. With her knees trembling and nausea dancing in the pit of her belly, she wondered if she might pass out. It had to be shock. Her body reacting after the see-sawing of emotions she’d put it through this morning. The up of fearful anticipation and down of abject relief.

  ‘Auntie Carrie,’ Jade’s voice held a note of panic. ‘Are you okay? Can I … Shall I …’

  Uncertainty flashed in her expression.

  ‘I’m fine. Just a bit faint. Probably too much heat.’ She wasn’t going to confess to Jade, it was more likely a post-shock, adrenaline hangover. The aggressive punch of chemicals which had rolled through her system, setting all her senses on alert, had now evaporated like a magic genie rescinding its powers, leaving her with an overwhelming sense of being unutterably tired. She clung to a nearb
y wrought-iron hand rail.

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Jade doubtfully.

  ‘Let me catch my breath a minute. I’ve overdone it, that’s all. Too much sun. Not enough fluids.’ Carrie sounded like an aged great aunt well into her dotage rather than an auntie scant years older than her niece. There were plenty of occasions when Carrie had been taken for Jade’s older sister. As for fluids, she could do with a shot of something to put some fire back.

  ‘Do you want me to get Mum?’

  ‘No, I’m fine, honestly. I … let’s get back to the car.’ The sooner they got away the better.

  ‘If you’re sure.’ Doubt filled Jade’s face.

  Despite the sick sensation churning around her stomach, which was stupid, it wasn’t as if she’d got up close and personal to real danger, she picked up her pace and almost marched down the hill back to the car park. Every now and then she threw anxious looks back over her shoulder.

  Jade threw open the back passenger door and hurled herself in, pushing her phone out to her mother. ‘Guess who we saw? Look I got a selfie with him. Richard Maddox. Isn’t he gorgeous? He’s even more gorgeous in the flesh, isn’t he, Caz?’

  ‘You saw Richard?’ Angela’s eyes went wide, studying Carrie with concern.

  ‘Oh God, yes,’ said Carrie, limp in her seat, now that she’d reached the air-conditioned haven of the car. She put her head in her hands and leaned over her knees. ‘I walked right into him.’ Reliving the moment as she told her sister was every bit as bad as the moment it happened.

  She straightened up and took a peek at herself in the mirror before turning to Angela. ‘What a nightmare.’

  Jade leaned through the gap between the passenger and driver seats, like a fox scenting a chicken, her nose almost quivering.

  ‘I don’t believe it.’ Carrie rubbed at her forehead as if that might dissipate the band of tension which had tightened around her forehead. ‘Blood, bloody, bad luck.’

  ‘Why? I don’t understand.’ Jade flicked through her screen. ‘I got two pictures with him and they’re both great. I’m going to WhatsApp them now to Becky, Charlotte and Eliza.

  Carrie groaned, still unable to believe what had happened.

  Jade caught her eye in the mirror. ‘Hang on.’ Her eyes narrowed and she examined Carrie. ‘Have I missed something?’

  Angela looked from Carrie to Jade and back again.

  ‘Mum? What’s going on?’

  With a sigh, Carrie said, ‘Let’s wait until we get home.’ She gripped the steering wheel with purpose. ‘I need to concentrate on driving and finding our way back.’

  ‘Why can’t you tell me now?’ whined Jade.

  ‘Because,’ snapped Carrie.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘I can’t believe you never told me,’ said Jade for the ninety-fifth time, slurping a tall glass of coke noisily. You’re married to Richard Maddox. The Richard Maddox. That’s awesome.’

  Carrie contemplated the view from the bay window overlooking at the valley, absentmindedly sipping the large glass of wine that Angela had poured her as soon as they arrived home.

  ‘That’s unreal. You’re married to Richard Maddox.’

  ‘Jade,’ her mother interrupted in a warning tone, which made no impact on her overexcited daughter.

  ‘Yes, but Richard Maddox.’ She paced around the kitchen. ‘That is sick. And you never said.’

  Carrie tightened her jaw.

  ‘I can’t wait to tell the others.’

  ‘No.’ Carrie swung around and shot a fierce glare at her. ‘You can’t tell anybody.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Jade held up her hands. ‘No one’s died.’ She sank into the chair opposite and drained her glass before looking at Carrie in an unashamed examination, as if trying to work out how the hell her aunt had ever snagged an international sex symbol. ‘Can I just ask …’

  ‘No,’ chorused Angela and Carrie together.

  ‘… why don’t you want anyone to know? If it were me, I’d tell everyone.’ She leaned back in her chair, a dreamy expression on her face.

  ‘What happened?’ asked Angela.

  ‘The film unit was there but he’d finished filming. However I did get chatting to one of the crew and I found out where he’s staying.’

  ‘Are you going to go and see him?’ Jade leaned forward. ‘Can I come?’

  ‘No, I’m not going to see him,’ said Carrie tightly. ‘I needed to contact him.’

  ‘Why don’t you want to see him? He’s your husband.’ Jade emphasised the final word. ‘It’s not like we’ve got many in the family.’ She shot a sly look her mother’s way. It still niggled her that her mother had never married her father, who by all accounts had been desperate to marry Angela. It still surprised Carrie that she’d turned him down.

  Angela didn’t rise, instead she took a steady sip of her wine.

  ‘Jade, we got married when we were both young and stupid.’

  ‘How come you’re still married and why haven’t you ever said anything? I mean, if I were you I’d be living it up in Hollywood. He must have, like, a million homes.’

  ‘He went to Hollywood. I stayed here. We drifted apart. At the time I wasn’t planning on marrying anyone else. I left it and left it and after a while I, sort of, forgot.’

  ‘You forgot you were married to a superstar? Man, that’s nuts.’

  ‘I didn’t forget, I put it out of my mind.’

  A horror-struck expression hit Jade’s face. ‘OMG! Alan. Does he know?’

  ‘Of course he doesn’t know,’ said Carrie, hurriedly.

  ‘When are you going to tell him?’

  Angela raised an eyebrow. Carrie realised that Jade was asking all the questions that Angela wanted answered.

  ‘I’m not going to. I’ll tell him I was married before and that it didn’t work out. That’s all he needs to know,’ she narrowed a fierce stare at Jade, ‘and you are not to tell him or even breathe a word to anyone.’

  ‘What no one? Not even my friends? That’s ridiculous. They won’t …’ Jade winced. ‘Yeah they would.’ She pouted. ‘That’s mean.’

  ‘Tough. I don’t want anyone knowing. Everyone would talk, there’d be all sorts of comments. Can you imagine it at school? Alan would hate it and it’s unnecessary. He never needs to know who I was married to.’

  ‘What are you going to do? You’ve got to see Richard.’

  ‘I don’t want to see him and I don’t need to.’

  ‘But what if he still loves you?’

  Carrie nearly spat her wine out. ‘That’s crackers. Jade, we haven’t seen each other for years.’

  ‘Yes, but you must have done once. You got married and if you haven’t seen him much since, how do you know?’

  ‘How do I know what?’

  ‘That he doesn’t still love you.’

  Carrie’s stupid heart did a little flip and a touch of grief whispered through her mind. He had done once when they believed in ‘forever’.

  ‘He might be bored with all those Hollywood bimbettes and fancy a change. You’re not bad looking and you’re really kind and funny, sometimes.’

  ‘Only sometimes?’ Carrie hid a smile, even though she didn’t feel like smiling at the moment. ‘Thanks, Jade. That’s very sweet of you.’

  ‘Do you still love him?’

  ‘No.’ The finality in her tone should have made it clear. Today had stirred a lot of memories, but that’s all they were, distant and long-buried memories that ought to stay six feet under, not be exhumed and re-examined.

  ‘Shame.’ Jade’s shoulders slumped. ‘He’s awfully good looking. I wouldn’t have minded him for an uncle.’ She flounced out of the kitchen.

  Carrie rolled her eyes and turned to Angela. ‘I’m going to write him a letter and take it over to the hotel where they’re staying.’

  ‘What are you going to say?’

  ‘Keep things formal, to the point. I need his contact details, an official address so that I can start divorce proceedings
. Luckily we’ve been apart for this long, so it should be pretty straightforward. I’m not sure how long it will take. That’s the only problem. The stuff I’ve researched online suggests it could take up to between sixteen and twenty weeks, in which case I’m screwed and I will have to tell Alan.’ Hope gleamed in Carrie’s eyes, ‘But, if I can persuade Richard to speed things up, he might be prepared to pay for fancy lawyers who can push things through more quickly. You’re always reading in the papers about celeb quickie divorces. That would be the best solution.’

  ‘Personally, I think telling Alan the truth would be easier, but whatever you think.’

  Carrie gave her a hug and they held onto each other for a minute. Angela squeezed her back. ‘I’m sure once Richard gets the letter, he’ll be as anxious as I am to expedite things as quickly as possible.’

  ‘Expedite! You sound all lawyerly already. Have you already written the letter?’

  Carrie hadn’t physically put pen to paper, or even fingers to keyboard, but she’d written an imaginary few lines several times in her head and each time the words sounded horribly bald, as if she were writing to a complete stranger. So much for being a writer, no matter how she phrased it, I want a divorce sounded final and cold. A miserable ignominious end to an incandescent love that had once burnt with such bright, brilliant, heartfelt passion.

  ‘No, but I’m going to.’ She sounded as defensive as Jade caught out for leaving her homework late on a Sunday evening.

  Carrie took another sip of ice-cold coke and dreamily watched the passers-by. Today, after two whole days’ lounging by the pool, they’d ventured to the beach beyond Ramatuelle, which had been recommended according to Marguerite’s guest book of tips. She’d enjoyed the drive down to the coast as they skirted pine-clad cliffs with the sea shimmering in the background.

  Jade, looking at her phone, gave a sudden guinea-pig-like squeak, her eyes widening and her cheeks puffing out.

  Carrie waited for her to announce the latest Google fact or show them her Instagram feed or regale them with some celebrity gossip.