Rosie's Little Café on the Riviera

by Jennifer Bohnet

  As for his new villa, it might epitomise the three things everyone associated with the Côte d’Azur: the glamour, the lifestyle and the money; but she could live without all three – although she could certainly do with the Café Fleur earning its keep!

  If he really was ill, meeting him would be the kindest thing to do. Let him have his say and simply say goodbye. Refuse to be drawn into an argument over the past. And if it was just a ruse to get her to talk to him, well that would put an end to any reconciliation he might want.

  Living here she could bump into him any time, any place. Better to get the hostilities out of the way to avoid any embarrassing public situations in the future. Although, if it was confession time, Rosie couldn’t help feeling Terry would be better off seeing a priest.

  Deep down she knew the decision to meet up with him at some stage before the end of the summer had already been made. But it was definitely going to be on her own terms. For starters it would have to be a private meeting – no Saskia present.

  And that was another thing. Was Saskia planning to live in Europe, too? What about her mother? Where was she?

  A sudden thought struck Rosie. Did Terry have a wife back in the States? Had he walked out on her like he had Olivia?

  ***

  When Charlie phoned out of the blue and invited Rosie to a party onboard A Sure Thing Sunday evening, she tried hard to say no thank you.

  ‘We’re really busy at the moment, Charlie, and I’m tired. I haven’t got the energy for partying.’ But Charlie wasn’t having it.

  ‘Please come. There’s a couple of people I’d like you to meet and William said specifically to invite you. Said he misses you. Like I do,’ Charlie added.

  It was the mention of William that made her decide, against her better judgement, to go. She still had to meet his new wife and congratulate him on his marriage.

  ‘OK. Thanks.’ She hesitated before saying, ‘Can I bring a partner?’

  ‘If you’re thinking of bringing Seb – he’s already invited,’ Charlie said. ‘See you Sunday then.’ And he’d hung up.

  Rosie sighed. She had been thinking of asking Seb to go with her – much like he’d asked her to go to Zoe’s that Sunday. Just for support, of course; not to pretend he was more than a friend. Would have been good to have walked onboard as part of a couple rather than alone.

  Seb was waiting for her when she walked over to the hotel that evening, having promised to look after Isabella for a couple of hours. She desperately wanted to talk to him about Terry and was hoping that Seb would have time to talk before he went down to the kitchens.

  Before she could say anything, Seb took hold of her by the shoulders to give her his usual kiss on both cheeks before holding her away from him and looking at her.

  ‘Gather you’ve got an invitation to the party Sunday night. Shall we go together?’

  ‘That would be .. wonderful,’ Rosie said, kissing him on the cheek in return and feeling her spirits lifting.

  ‘Then, if you want, you can introduce me to people as your boyfriend. But only if you like,’ he added quietly.

  Rosie looked at him. ‘Is this because of me pretending to be your girlfriend to get Zoe off your back?’

  Seb shrugged. ‘I thought it might help with Charlie. But I do like the idea of being introduced as your boyfriend – for real.’ He pulled her gently towards him and hugged her before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. ‘Gotta go. Talk later.’ And he was gone, leaving a stunned Rosie to go and find Isabella.

  Once Isabella was in bed, Rosie helped herself to a glass of rosé from the fridge and wandered along the terrace before leaning on the wall and thinking about Seb’s words. Words that she found herself strangely in sync with. She would, she realised, like to be able to call Seb her boyfriend.

  Despite telling Olivia and anyone else who would listen that she didn’t have the time, or the inclination, for a man in her life, Seb had crept up on her. Got through her armour without her realising.

  He was no longer a person on the edge of her life; he’d become an integral part of it. Seeing him every day, babysitting Isabella several times a week, their lives had begun to merge together seamlessly without her noticing. In fact, Rosie realised with a shock, the thought of either of them not being in her life was unbearable. But could he possibly be as serious about her as she realised, with a jolt, she was about him? She needed to know that she wasn’t just a summer fling for him before she made any attempt to analyse her own feelings about him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Erica turned the counter fan on to full blast and stood in front of it. Even if the air it wafted towards her was warm and failed to cool her, it was a relief to feel the draught of air. At least she had a glass of ice-cold apple juice to drink, with more in the fridge.

  The Cupboard Under the Stairs had been busy all day but now, late afternoon, the shop was empty and Erica was able to catch up on some paperwork. Paperwork that included a scrappy piece of paper with the words Coast/Country and Questions written across the top.

  She’d taken GeeGee’s advice and tried to write things down objectively, but so far nothing had helped to make up her mind. There were so many unknowns hidden behind every question. It was like trying to second-guess whether it was going to rain and spoil the fireworks on July 14th. Only far more important and life-changing.

  Top of the list was the question: sell the house or stay put? The answer here was easy – the house was already on the market. She and Cammie needed a new home for their new lives without Pascal.

  The next question: where to buy? Coast or move to the country? Amelia had persuaded her to take a look at the Bertrands’ house in the village before she left, but Erica hadn’t been convinced it was for her and Cammie. It didn’t sing out to her in a ‘if you buy me you’ll be happy here’ way. She knew it was silly to expect a building to throw out welcoming vibes at her but she couldn’t imagine living in that house or even up in the village if she was honest.

  Her life revolved around Cammie and the shop down here – what would it revolve around in a village up in the back country? Cammie would go to school, make friends and have the cousins to play with. Whereas she would have no purpose to her life. Amelia would no doubt get her involved in local things but she loved the shop and would miss the buzz it gave her.

  Erica sighed. She needed to move on and selling the house was a part of that. GeeGee had said she was bringing a couple at the weekend for their first viewing, so things were beginning to happen there. Once sold, she could buy the kind of house she and Pascal had always dreamt of owning. The fact he wouldn’t be there to share it with her made it bittersweet but she’d keep looking for the house of their dreams. Selling the house was one thing; selling the shop was something else. She couldn’t envisage herself ever doing that.

  Sipping her cold drink she realised decisions were being made. Keeping the shop meant she was definitely staying on the coast.

  She turned to welcome a customer. ‘Bonjour. Can I help you? Rosie,’ she said surprised. ‘How lovely to see you.’

  ‘Hi. I can’t think why but this is the first time I’ve been in here,’ Rosie said looking around. ‘It’s amazing – a real treasure trove. I need to find a belated wedding present for my ex-boss.’

  ‘Have a browse, see if there’s anything that takes your fancy,’ Erica said. ‘Give me a shout if you need help.’

  ‘It’s so difficult finding something for a couple who already have everything,’ Rosie said ten minutes later as she approached the counter clutching a coffee-table-size book, Belles Demeures en Riviera. ‘I know William loves learning about the history of the Côte d’Azur. I think he and Caroline will be fascinated by the black and white photographs in here. So many of these lovely villas have been pulled down.’

  ‘It’s a beautiful book,’ Erica agreed. ‘Do you want to write an inscription in it before I gift-wrap it?’

  Rosie shook her head. ‘No,
thanks.’ She picked a Congratulations card out of the rack. ‘I’ll write my message on this for you to slip inside.’

  While Erica wrapped the book, Rosie fell in love with a silk scarf hanging on the vintage rail. Colourful peacocks and green leaves on a yellowy background.

  ‘I’m going to treat myself to this,’ she said, handing over her card. ‘Your shop is far too tempting.’

  After Rosie left, promising to return now she’d discovered the shop, Erica looked at her list again before screwing it up and throwing it into the wastepaper basket. The most important decision had been made. Stay on the coast. Fingers crossed everything else would fall into place behind it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Walking with Seb to the marina where A Sure Thing was moored Sunday evening, Rosie felt tired but happy. Seb was carrying the heavy book for her in one hand and holding her hand held tightly in the other.

  The hot, sunny weather meant that the Café Fleur was super busy every day and the weekly accounts were showing healthy signs of a small profit. The food poisoning accusation, though, was still a worry, with no details from the lawyer yet. Perhaps it had all been a mistake and she wouldn’t hear any more about it?

  She’d been thinking, too, about Terry and Saskia, ever since the thought that somewhere out there she might have a stepmother. Maybe Seb would know.

  As they turned down onto the quay leading to the pontoons she said, ‘Has Terry ever mentioned his wife to you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How about Saskia? Does she talk about her mother?’

  Seb shook his head. ‘No. Why?’

  ‘It occurred to me I must have a stepmother out there.’

  ‘You can ask Tiki when you talk to him,’ Seb said. ‘Which will be soon, won’t it?’

  When Rosie didn’t answer straight away, Seb squeezed her hand. ‘The longer you leave it the harder it will become.’

  William and his new wife, Caroline, were standing by the gangway greeting everyone as they stepped onboard. Rosie congratulated them, handed over her present and wished them every happiness before accepting a glass of bubbly from one of the attentive crew.

  As she and Seb made their way down to the main saloon where people were gathering she saw Olivia and Zander chatting to another couple, and at the far end Charlie was talking to a pregnant woman – and Terry and Saskia. Rosie froze. Unable to walk any further. The thing she’d been dreading, bumping into Terry socially, was about to happen.

  Had Terry told Charlie as well as Seb that he was her father? If he had – how many other people had he told? Maybe he was busy telling everyone, hoping to embarrass her into acknowledging him. Was this why Charlie had pressurised her into coming this evening? Deliberately setting her up?

  Seb casually placed his arm around Rosie’s shoulders and squeezed her tightly before whispering, ‘Smile!’ Which she did involuntarily as she saw Charlie glance their way and registered his reaction to the way Seb was holding her.

  She took a large drink of her champagne before shrugging her shoulders and uttering a deep sigh.

  Seb looked at her. ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve just realised it’s twenty-seven years since both my parents have been in the same place as me. I remember they weren’t speaking on that occasion either!’

  Fleetingly Rosie wondered what life would have been like if Olivia and Terry had stayed together. Would Terry have made a fortune without going to the USA? Or would he have uprooted them and taken them to live in Hollywood. Stupid to go down that road; she’d never know.

  ‘Darling, lovely to see you here,’ Olivia said, appearing at their side. ‘Bit surprised to see you know who. I didn’t know William and Charlie even knew Terry – sorry, Tiki.’

  ‘Have you spoken to him?’

  Olivia shook her head. ‘Not yet. We’ve merely acknowledged each other’s presence with a nod. Zander wants me to introduce him. Says they’ve probably got friends in common in California. Not sure I’m ready for that particular introduction, though.’ She leant in towards Rosie before whispering, ‘Your sister is a very pretty girl.’

  Rosie nodded. ‘She is. Lucky girl – must take after her mother.’

  ‘That’s bit hurtful, darling,’ Olivia said.

  ‘Oh, Mum, I’m sorry – that was bitchy of me. But you know what I mean.’

  She felt Seb’s arm tighten around her shoulders briefly. ‘Want to leave?’

  She nodded. ‘Please.’

  But before they could make a move Charlie, hand in hand with the pregnant woman, was in front of them.

  ‘Rosie, I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine, Sarah Miller.’

  Was this the Sarah he’d rushed off to help weeks ago? Was the baby Charlie’s?

  ‘You remember Alan Miller from college?’

  ‘Of course,’ Rosie said, smiling at Sarah. Charlie and Alan had been best mates at college and the three of them had had some great, fun times together. The last she’d heard he’d taken up extreme sports. ‘You’re Alan’s wife? Is he here tonight?’ She looked around.

  It was Charlie who answered her. ‘Alan died a couple of months back. A jump went wrong.’

  ‘Oh, Sarah, I’m so sorry,’ Rosie said. ‘Alan was one of the good guys.’ Why the hell hadn’t Charlie told her about Alan before? Save her the embarrassment of upsetting Sarah with thoughtless words. She’d have words with Charlie about that later but right now, as she saw Terry and Saskia approaching them, she wanted to get the hell off the yacht.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Sarah, but I’m afraid I have to leave, RIGHT NOW,’ she said, turning to Seb.

  ‘Wait two seconds,’ Charlie said. ‘I want to introduce you to Tiki Gilvear…’

  ‘Nice try, Charlie, but “Mr Gilvear” and I are already acquainted, as I’m sure you know. Bye.’ And before Terry and Saskia reached them she was walking in the opposite direction.

  She was off the yacht and striding along the quay before Seb caught up with her.

  ‘Don’t say a word,’ she said. ‘I know I shouldn’t have left like that. I know I owe William and Charlie an apology. But I just couldn’t stay there and make small talk with him.’ She brushed a tear away. ‘I’m so ashamed of myself for causing a scene.’

  ‘Stop beating yourself up,’ Seb said, putting his arms around her and hugging her. ‘Just do what you know you have to do.’

  Rosie took a deep breath. ‘Easier said than done.’

  ‘I can come with you if you like?’

  ‘Would you?’ Rosie said, before sighing and shaking her head. ‘Thanks. But I think it’s something I have to do by myself. Once Terry is settled in his new villa I’ll go.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Seb said. ‘Now, Alicia is sitting with Isabella tonight and we’re both unexpectedly free for the next hour, so I’d like to take you somewhere special. We just need to go back to the hotel for my car.’

  Quarter of an hour later, Seb parked on the Cap d’Antibes and, holding her hand, led Rosie up the tortuous path towards the famous lighthouse beaming its light out over the Mediterranean. Rosie inhaled the smell of the tall pine trees that hung in the evening air as she and Seb reached the summit of their climb.

  ‘Wow. This is some view,’ Rosie said, catching her breath.

  ‘You’ve not been up here before?’ Seb asked.

  Rosie shook her head. ‘I’ve seen the light many times from sea but no, I’ve never been up here.’

  ‘It’s one of the most powerful lights on the Côte d’Azur,’ Seb said, watching as the beam flashed out.

  Standing there in the almost silence with Seb’s arm around her shoulders, looking out at the panoramic view over the Cap and the Mediterranean and along the coast in both directions for mile after mile, Rosie drank in the romantic serenity of the place. The recent upset on A Sure Thing faded from her mind as the balmy night air rustled through the trees and she sighed contentedly.

  When Seb tightened his hold around h
er shoulders and pulled her closer to him she leaned in to him willingly, feeling more than comfortable in his embrace and happy to stay there.

  Light pollution meant the stars weren’t visible but along the whole coastline, from right to left, there were lights glittering, both stationary and moving, as traffic drove along the coast road. Out at sea, too, there were lights from boats making their way across the Mediterranean to Italy or west to Marseille. And above it all, a crescent moon hung in the sky. A perfect evening. Seb was right. It was a special place.

  ‘It’s so tranquil, there’s a real spiritual feeling up here,’ Rosie said quietly. Definitely a good place to come and unwind from modern-day stress, to think things through, decide what to do.

  She twisted to look at the building to the right of them standing in shadows as darkness began to fall. ‘Is that a chapel over there? I can see a cross.’

  Seb nodded. ‘Yes. A centuries-old fisherman’s church. It’s full of strange offerings from fishermen and their families praying for safe voyages. There are also some sad messages pinned to the walls from widows,’ he added.

  Rosie shivered.

  ‘Are you cold?’ Seb said.

  ‘No, I just feel sad that this beautiful place harbours grief as well as happiness but I guess it’s that blend of the two that creates the special atmosphere.’

  ‘Well, I’m very happy to be here tonight with you,’ Seb said, turning her to face him. ‘How about you?’

  ‘I’m very happy to be here with you, too,’ Rosie said. ‘Being here with you will be a treasured memory. It’s so…’ The rest of her words, ‘atmospheric and romantic’, were lost as Seb bent his head and kissed her.

  When they drew apart several moments later Rosie knew things between them would never be the same again. The kiss had changed everything.

  ‘This is turning out to be quite an evening,’ she said, smiling.