‘Just a glass of house red, he seemed very impressed, he was English I think.’
‘Of course he was impressed, they don’t know the first thing about wine.’ He stopped at the bar. ‘What did you pour him?’ he demanded, suddenly looking around. She pointed to the open bottle. He swore under his breath. ‘Anaïs, that isn’t the damn house wine.’ He grabbed the bottle and glared at her. She bit her lip and widened her eyes. Sensing tears he quickly said, ‘Never mind, no harm done, you were only trying to help.’ He ruffled her hair and silently thanked the Lord that the customer had been foreign.
Nick was unpacking his basket and spreading the contents over the kitchen table. Rosa looked astonished, as indeed did everyone. I could have told them that actually he had been quite restrained this time but I still found it hard to talk about our past relationship.
‘Oysters, how wonderful.’ Luc licked his lips.
‘I couldn’t resist them.’ Nick smiled. ‘I know Sky is squeamish but I hope everyone else likes them.’
‘I’m not squeamish,’ I said sharply. ‘I just don’t like them.’
‘Ah, but you’ve never had oysters from Arcachon.’ Luc picked one up. ‘Famed throughout France for its oyster farms.’ He draped an arm around my shoulder. ‘We’ll convert you yet, Sky.’
I was unconvinced.
‘What else is in the basket?’ Rosa asked, peering in.
Nick hesitated.
‘Come on.’ Rosa laughed. ‘Let’s see the worst.’
Nick looked uncertain then reached inside for a bag. ‘Beautiful hats for beautiful ladies.’ He handed me a package and plonked the cute cap over Emmie’s curls. She giggled in delight.
I felt desperately uncomfortable. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.
‘Thank you, they’re nice,’ I said, barely glancing inside the package. I knew I should sound more grateful but I didn’t really know how else to respond. Why was he always putting me in these uncomfortable situations? We were getting on better and I knew he was trying to be nice but I just wasn’t ready for nice. It annoyed me. I mumbled something incoherent about going to change my clothes and virtually ran from the room.
Flinging the hats and myself on the bed I lay there trying to marshal my thoughts. One moment I was OK and the next moment – wham – it hit me all over again. The more he tried to recapture our past the more I realised how much I was going to miss it. And he was responsible for that, he and Miles together had shattered my whole bloody life. I wanted to rebuild it but really did not know how. This sort of scenario belonged in the movies, it didn’t belong in real life.
There was a tentative knock and the door and Emmie poked her head in. I sat up and beckoned her.
‘Is you angry?’ Her little face was full of concern as she came towards me.
‘I am, sweetheart, but certainly not with you.’
She nodded and then picking up the straw hat said, ‘Is you wearing this?’
‘Well I’m not sure it’s really suitable for lunch, darling.’
‘We is lunching outside.’ She stared at me earnestly. ‘I is wearing mine.’ She patted her head as if to make sure the cap was still there. ‘It will make everybody pleased.’ She looked pleadingly at me and I marvelled at this little girl. Through no fault of her own she had been set apart from others of her own age, her parents were seemingly disinterested in her and yet she still loved the world and sought only to make people happy. I could learn a lot from her.
I got off the bed and went to the wardrobe. Picking out a floaty vintage cheesecloth dress bought in Greenwich Market I held it against me and turned to her. She smiled her approval and clapped her hands. Discarding my jeans and shirt I slipped it on and pirouetted around for her. She laughed and then determinedly held out my hat. I took it from her, hesitating for a moment before turning to the mirror. Tying my hair into a loose ponytail I put it on. It suited me, as I had known it would. Nick had been buying me hats for years.
‘Pretty,’ Emmie said. ‘You is very pretty.’ She held out her hand.
The kitchen was a hive of activity. Luc and Michel were shucking the oysters, Nick was prowling around watching Rosa, Stephanie was arranging the olives and tapenade, Beatrice and Philippe were organising the champagne and outside I could see Henri and Elf setting up the table. They looked up when we arrived and I felt horribly self-conscious. Emmie kept a firm grip on my hand as if she realised I might turn tail at any minute.
‘You look beautiful, Sky.’ Beatrice smiled at me and I could sense her approval. Nick didn’t say anything but his face said it all. Luc gave a low wolf whistle. I smiled at him but turned to Philippe.
‘I thought the hat a wise move.’ I grinned. ‘I don’t fancy a repeat of the sun burn in Marrakech.’
‘A wise move indeed,’ he agreed and I knew that we had forgiven each other for that little episode. ‘It suits you.’ He nodded in appreciation and I blushed.
I saw Nick and Beatrice exchanged a quick glance and wondered why. But before I could say anything Nick said, ‘I stopped at Hotel de Paris on my way back home from the market.’
The others looked surprised.
‘On your way back?’ Luc raised his eyebrows.
‘Well, I got lost,’ Nick explained.
‘Badly lost.’ Luc laughed.
‘I went to ask for directions, which as it turned out were useless, but I sat and had a glass of wine on the terrace.’ He turned to Philippe. ‘Do you sell to them? I’m sure they gave me a Chateau Fontaine.’
‘Unlikely,’ Philippe replied. ‘The manager and I don’t exactly see eye to eye.’
‘Celine certainly does, in fact she sees more than his eye,’ I overheard Michel murmur to Beatrice and Luc.
‘How on earth do you know?’ Beatrice was instantly curious, as indeed was I.
‘I have my sources.’
‘The source being the sexy receptionist.’ Luc grinned.
‘You know, I could swear that wine was Chateau Fontaine,’ Nick continued. ‘I’d lay money on it, I really would.’
‘Really?’ Beatrice looked thoughtful. ‘We’ll go tomorrow, Nick, just you and I.’ She turned to Luc and Michel. ‘You’d be recognised, but I’ve never been and I’ll certainly know if the wine is Chateau Fontaine.’
‘Good plan, one problem.’ Nick grinned. ‘I’ll need instructions, I’ve no idea how to get back there.’
‘I do,’ Elf said.
I looked around surprised, I hadn’t even realised he’d come into the kitchen.
‘I asked about work there,’ he explained.
‘Was there anywhere you didn’t ask for work, Elf?’ Beatrice asked him gently.
‘No,’ he replied shortly.
‘But they’ll certainly recognise you, Elf,’ Nick said.
‘I won’t go in, I’ll simply sniff around outside like a bloodhound.’ He chuckled. ‘You’d be amazed how invisible you are when you are small.’ He winked at me and I flushed.
Luc laughed. ‘Elf, you are certainly a character, it was a lucky day for us when you arrived.’
‘I’ll second that,’ Philippe said.
Elf smiled and he suddenly looked ten feet tall.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Arnaud watched them walk into the bar of the Hotel de Paris. She was an absolute knockout, effortlessly chic in a simple silk dress with her blonde hair swept up in a chignon. Diamond studs glinted in her ears but her neck remained bare. Her companion was equally impressive in a cream linen suit just the right side of crumpled. They looked business-like, elegant and wealthy, which was exactly the look Beatrice was aiming for.
Nick hadn’t been sure as to why Beatrice had insisted on him borrowing a suit from Philippe.
‘I have a pair of decent jeans, Beatrice, they’ll be fine.’
‘They won’t be fine, we need to play a part. I’ll explain it in the car.’
Arnaud stopped the waitress from going over and went to serve them himself.
‘Madame, monsie
ur, welcome to Hotel de Paris. How can I help you today?’
Beatrice turned towards him. He was very handsome in an obvious sort of way and it was clear why Celine would fancy him, but he had an oily charm that immediately made her flesh creep.
‘Good morning, what a charming hotel,’ she said, flashing him a vivid smile. ‘My colleague came yesterday and persuaded me to visit today. I’m glad he did, he’s right, it is exactly what we are looking for.’
She knew that would pique his curiosity, as indeed it did. He recognised her Parisian accent and she went up even higher in his estimation. He was desperate to know who they were. He glanced over to Nick lounging in the chair, he hadn’t seen him yesterday and he would have been hard to miss with his gleaming red curls.
‘Monsieur, would it be possible speak to the proprietor or the manager?’ Beatrice continued.
‘You are speaking to him, madame.’ He held out his hand. ‘Arnaud Olivier at your service.’
Nick smiled to himself, there was more than a hint of Uriah Heep about the Frenchman’s manner.
‘Beatrice Pignal, and my companion Nick McPherson.’ Beatrice stood up and held out her hand. Nick followed suit. ‘Delighted to meet you.’
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Arnaud was burning to know what their business was.
‘You can indeed.’ Beatrice had held his hand slightly longer than necessary. She now sank back gracefully onto her seat. ‘Nick has been enthusing about your wine since yesterday.’
Arnaud looked enquiringly at Nick.
‘I was seated on the terrace,’ he said. ‘Your young niece served me.’
‘Ah, the Englishman, I remember her telling me.’
‘Scottish, not English.’ Nick grinned. ‘There is a big difference.’
‘Yes indeed, forgive me.’ Arnaud smiled without having a clue as to why he was apologising. Scotland was in England, wasn’t it?
‘She served me a glass of your house red. I have to say it was simply delicious.’
‘Ah, well, I’m afraid young Anaïs made a slight mistake, monsieur.’ Arnaud flushed. ‘It was not house wine she served you but my Bordeaux superior.’
‘I did wonder.’ Nick smiled. ‘Nonetheless we would like the same today, please.’
‘Monsieur Olivier, I wonder if we might steal a few minutes of your time?’ Beatrice gazed up at him, her smile was radiant and he was like a rabbit caught in the headlights. ‘I realise how busy you are but we would be most grateful.’ She touched his arm lightly. ‘Please, don’t worry, I can assure you we are not here to sell you anything. We are not here to interest you in new bar stools or a cocktail shaker.’ She held his gaze. ‘I am a hotelier myself.’ She produced a glossy brochure from her briefcase. ‘My young companion is a Michelin-starred chef, he has already made a name for himself in London and I’m hoping to persuade him to come to Paris.’
Nick shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant but slightly arrogant manner.
‘I am looking for new opportunities and would welcome the chance to talk to you.’ Her voice was like a soft caress and Arnaud went weak at the knees. When Beatrice decided to bewitch you there was no escaping, and like so many men before him he was under her spell.
‘Let me, er, let me just see to the drinks and then I’ll return at once,’ he managed to stammer.
‘He’s gone to check on you,’ Beatrice grinned after he left. ‘He’s got my brochure and now I bet any money he’s looking you up.’
‘You are one class act, Beatrice.’ Nick was impressed. ‘You have me completely fooled and I’m in on the act, and you have Arnaud eating out of your hand.’
‘With a man like him it is not hard,’ she whispered.
‘What is your Paris hotel like?’ he asked.
‘Full of style, quirky but charmingly elegant.’ She laughed. ‘That is a quote from a magazine.’
‘I imagine it’s stunning.’
‘Actually it is rather special,’ she acknowledged. ‘I was very lucky, I inherited the house from my parents who inherited it from my grandparents.’
‘Did you live there as a child?’
‘Some of the time, but we moved around a lot, my father was a diplomat.’
‘That must have been an interesting life.’
‘It had its moments,’ she said briefly and he sensed a reluctance to talk. He changed the subject.
‘Why the move to Marrakech?’
‘I like new projects.’ She smiled. ‘I get bored easily, it used to drive Philippe mad, still does.’ She paused. ‘What about you, Nick? Will you always stay in London?’
‘I’m not sure, yesterday I was fantasising about a restaurant here. Why do you ask?’
‘No reason.’
‘There is always a reason behind your questions, Beatrice.’ He smiled at her but before they could continue Arnaud arrived at their table.
Beatrice had been right, having barked out orders for a carafe of wine and canapés Arnaud had rushed immediately to his office to google Nick McPherson. He was impressed, numerous accolades, some excellent reviews and to cap it all the Michelin star. His heart began to beat a little faster.
His mobile rang, he saw that it was Celine but he didn’t have time to talk to her now, he needed to get back to his important visitors.
‘Nick was right, this wine is nectar.’ Beatrice licked her lips in appreciation and swirled it around her glass. ‘What is the name of the chateau?’
Nick leant forward, this should be interesting but Arnaud didn’t miss a beat. ‘It is blended especially for the hotel. The grape varieties are Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc and Merlot but more than that I cannot tell you. It is our secret recipe.’ He looked ingratiatingly at Nick. ‘I’m sure monsieur understands.’
‘Oh, absolutely, I wouldn’t dream of prying. I’m just delighted to be drinking it, in fact if I may make so bold I’m going to top myself up and take it to the terrace to enjoy with a cigarette. I will leave you two to talk.’ And assuming a carelessness he was far from feeling he got up, stretched and strolled towards the open door.
Once outside, making sure he was out of sight of the window, he pulled a small water bottle from his pocket and poured some wine into it. He slipped it back into his pocket and brought out his cigarettes. After today he was even more convinced that the wine was Philippe’s. But how the hell had it got here? He looked around for Elf, but the lad was doing as he had promised and keeping well out of sight.
Beatrice leant forward and Arnaud could smell her perfume. He would hazard a guess at Guerlain.
‘I will get straight to the point, Monsieur Olivier.’ She smiled at him. ‘I have a meeting after this so I don’t have too much time. As I said, I own a hotel in Paris, I also have a riad in Marrakech but it is the Parisian hotel I am really here to talk about.
‘I’m intrigued, madame.’
‘For some time now I have been toying with the idea of a sister hotel.’ She paused to let that sink in. ‘As you will be aware, the new TGV will soon take just over two hours from Paris to Bordeaux.’
Arnaud’s eyes were gleaming and Beatrice began to reel him in.
‘I like the idea of dual tailor-made holidays, sightseeing in Paris followed by wine tasting in Bordeaux or vice-versa.’ She was warming to her subject.
‘Gourmet meals in Paris, gourmet wine tours in south-west France.’ Arnaud was excited. ‘The new Cité du Vins has just opened in Bordeaux and we also have Saint-Émilion on our doorstep.’ He took a sip of his wine. This could be just the break he had been looking for. A collaboration with a celebrated chef, a top Parisian hotel and an extremely sexy owner.
Beatrice could see his mind racing. He was ambitious and he was bright. He was too smarmy for her taste but she understood why Celine was attracted to him. He was the polar opposite of Claude.
‘I am of course meeting with other hotels, but I like what I see here.’ It was true, she did. There was a lot of potential. It was classy and intimate. It was clear that Arnaud knew
what he was doing and his next words confirmed it.
‘If you could spare the time then I would be delighted to see you again, madame.’ He smiled. ‘I will give it some serious thought and outline some suggestions.’ He paused. ‘I have a few ideas that I think will interest you, it is something that I too have been thinking about.’ But not wishing to appear too pushy he stood up and held out his hand. ‘I don’t wish to hold you up now.’
‘I think that went rather well, don’t you?’ Beatrice asked as she and Nick sped away from the hotel.
‘I think he fell for it hook, line and sinker, I almost feel sorry for the man.’ Nick grinned and Elf chuckled.
‘Actually a sister hotel is not a bad idea.’ Beatrice expertly lit her cigarette while simultaneously flinging the car around a steep bend. Nick reached for his seat belt and Elf in the back seat closed his eyes. ‘I’ve had the idea before but I’ve been too busy in Marrakech. Maybe now is the right time.’ She opened the window to let the smoke out.
‘And did you think the wine was Philippe’s?’ Nick asked, also lighting up. Elf surreptitiously opened the back window.
‘Without a shadow of doubt,’ she replied. ‘Did you manage to decant some?’
Nick reached into his pocket and waved the water bottle at her.
‘We make a good team.’ She grinned. ‘We should set up in business, we’d never be short of work.’
Sky's the Limit Page 24
