‘Mum’s outside. She was wondering if you were up to a visit? She’s fine about it if you’re not.’
Terry smiled. ‘Olivia’s here to see me? Wow! That’s unexpected. But good news. Show her in.’
When Olivia walked in, Terry smiled and held out his free arm. ‘Can’t give you a proper hug,’ he said indicating the intravenous drip in his left hand. ‘It’s good to see you. And isn’t it great news about our daughter and Seb?’
Olivia looked at Rosie and raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, you heard that news before me,’ she said smilingly. ‘But yes, it’s wonderful news.’
‘Before you get told off for having too many visitors, Saskia and I will leave you two to chat for a bit. Be nice to each other, won’t you?’ Rosie said, knowing the interrogation from Olivia about what was going on with her and Seb would come later.
As Rosie and Saskia sat in the tiny cafe in the hospital grounds, Saskia said, ‘Good of your mum to come and see Dad.’
‘I’m not sure what prompted it,’ Rosie said. Maybe it was Olivia’s way of showing her she was glad the rift between father and daughter was over. Maybe she had her own reasons, too, for wanting to put things right between herself and Terry.
Whatever the reason it was good not having warring parents after all these years.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
GeeGee treated herself to a large iced coffee and made her way to her usual table at the Café Fleur, thankful for the shade of the two large eucalyptus trees on the edge of the terrace.
Setting up her laptop to take advantage of the shade she began to check her emails. Bruno and Patsy had generously passed on the contact details of three new apartments they’d been asked to handle and which they’d declined, saying they were already stretched to their limit. Two of the contacts had signed with GeeGee and the third had said he didn’t want to go with a start-up company. Fair enough, but two out of three wasn’t bad and GeeGee was pleased.
Since leaving the agency she’d done the rounds of places and people she hoped would take her flyers and business cards. Erica, of course, had a stack of cards on the counter of The Cupboard Under the Stairs and slipped a flyer into the bag with every purchase.
Seb, too, handed her card out to any guest who indicated they were house hunting. The bookshop in town had not only taken some flyers but had expressed an interest in her managing their two holiday apartments next year. She hadn’t asked Rosie yet to help spread the word. She couldn’t when Rosie’s life was in such turmoil.
GeeGee sipped her coffee and looked around. Her own life seemed to be on a high for once. Enquiries for managing holiday properties were coming in, airport runs were keeping her busy, and the cash flow was brilliant. Taking a percentage every month from handling holiday properties instead of selling them would ensure her a more reliable income from clients who signed up for her services.
Leaving the agency and going solo had been a good move. Selling two villas in quick succession had been a stroke of luck and had to be a good omen for her future. The relief of having some money behind her while she established things was immense. And there was still the commission to come from the villa Erica was buying. Commission she was determined to use to pay Erica back in some small way for everything.
She’d overridden Erica’s ‘no way am I taking rent off you’ by refusing to agree to move into the new villa without paying the going rent for a studio room.
‘If you don’t want it, pay it into an account for Cammie for when she’s eighteen.’
Today she planned on emailing clients she had on file who had bought places off her in the past six months, asking them to consider her as an agent if they ever wanted to let them out. One of the first names to come up on the ‘Recent Sales Spreadsheet’ was Tiki Gilvear.
Like everyone else she’d been amazed when the news broke that Tiki Gilvear was Rosie’s father. To hear he had been taken ill so soon after buying the villa she’d found strangely upsetting. She remembered how thrilled he’d been with the place the first time she’d taken him to view it.
He’d confided in her it was the type of home he’d dreamed of owning as a boy growing up in the inner city. She sincerely hoped he’d get to enjoy living there with Saskia. Maybe Rosie would move in, too?
She clicked on the mouse and moved the cursor down the spreadsheet to the next name. Dan Brewer, apartment 4c. She smiled, remembering the afternoon he got the keys and the way he’d kept his promise about buying her a coffee.
Dan had been carrying a large rucksack when he arrived at the notaire’s office, and once all the formalities were dealt with and he had the keys to the apartment in his hand, he’d turned to her. ‘It’s coffee time. Come on.’
Instead of making for one of the nearby pavement restaurants they’d gone straight to the apartment. Once there he’d taken an espresso machine out of the rucksack, placed it on the kitchen work surface and plugged it in. Coffee capsules, cups, plates, milk and sugar had been pulled out of the rucksack in quick succession and placed alongside.
GeeGee couldn’t stop laughing as she watched him. ‘You look like a magician pulling stuff out of a hat!’ she said as he pulled the final item out of a side pocket. A boulangerie paper bag.
‘I hope you like squashed pain au raisin,’ Dan said, opening the bag and sliding two sorry-looking cakes out onto plates. ‘Let’s go out on the terrace. If you take these, I’ll bring the coffees.’
The previous owner had left two rickety chairs up on the terrace and sitting there, drinking coffee and eating the squashed cakes, she and Dan got to know each other as well as talking about his ideas for the apartment. Ideas that appeared to be similar to the way she’d decorate the place if it were her own.
GeeGee raised her cup in a toast. ‘Here’s to you and 4c. I hope you’ll be very happy here. Will working on the yacht make it difficult to spend time ashore?’
Dan shook his head. ‘No. I finish at the end of this season. Working on the yacht was only ever temporary while I decided what to do next.’ He glanced at GeeGee.
‘I worked in the City for ten years. Then I got burnout,’ he said. ‘Marc suggested I become a yachtie like him. Said the sea air would do me good. So I sold my London flat and the obligatory Porsche and took a year off. I’ve enjoyed it but, as careers go, it’s not for me.’
‘So this is going to be your holiday apartment then?’ GeeGee said, disappointed. She’d been hoping Dan would be around during the winter months. That maybe they could become friends; get to know each other better. Her heart lurched, though, at his next words.
‘No. It’s going to be my permanent home. I just have to find a job that can use my financial expertise but doesn’t take over my life.’ Dan shrugged. ‘Meantime, I’m going to enjoy sorting this place out, making new friends. And getting to know you,’ he added, looking at her.
GeeGee smiled at him. ‘Sounds like a plan.’
Dan had sailed away to Greece the next day and she’d started counting the days till his return. Which should be soon; sometime next week according to his text two days ago.
An email pinged into her box bringing her back to the present.
Bruno. ‘Possible to do an airport run today at three o’clock?’
She quickly typed ‘Yes. Name etc?’ and pressed the send button. She loved the spontaneity of her new life. Every day was different. Things would slow down in October and over winter, she knew, but that was weeks away. Weeks where she’d still be earning money unlike in other years. She’d spend winter advertising the business and spreading the word so that, come next spring, she’d be ready for a bumper summer. And Dan would be back living in town. A definite bonus.
Her email pinged again. Expecting it to be Bruno with the airport details, her heart flipped as she saw Dan’s email address.
‘Returning earlier than expected. Will be home tomorrow. Can’t wait to see you. L. xxx’
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
The call came at ten
to six in the morning. Rosie, more than half asleep as she answered the phone, struggled to take in the quiet words that were telling her Tiki had died.
Saskia appeared in the bedroom doorway. And knew instantly that her beloved father had gone. She sobbed uncontrollably in Rosie’s arms as Rosie repeated the hospital’s words.
‘He had a major stroke at five-thirty. The medical staff could do nothing. It was over very quickly in the end.’
‘But he was getting better,’ Saskia sobbed. ‘He was coming home at the end of the week. Talking about things the three of us were going to do together. And I didn’t get to say goodbye.’
Rosie could only sit there and hug her sister.
‘We’ll still do things together.’
‘But it won’t be the same,’ Saskia said.
‘No it won’t, but we’ll do them anyway,’ Rosie said.
Rosie sat holding Saskia, lost in her own thoughts. She and Terry had become friends again while he’d lain in his hospital bed but longer had been needed to change the relationship back to one of father and daughter. Time she’d been denied.
As Saskia gradually became calmer and stopped shaking, Rosie said, ‘I need to make some phone calls and then how about we get dressed and go find Seb at the hotel?’ She personally needed a hug and Seb’s comforting presence. He’d know, too, what she and Saskia had to do now.
When they got to the hotel Seb wrapped both of them in a fierce hug. ‘I’m so sorry.’ He insisted on them having coffee and croissants. ‘You need something.’ Saskia drank her coffee but crumbled the croissant into crumbs on her plate.
Olivia arrived mid-morning and took Saskia off for a walk on the beach, giving Seb and Rosie the opportunity to start notifying the various authorities and doing all the formal paperwork connected with Tiki’s death.
Saskia had popped out for a coffee one evening when Rosie had visited Terry in hospital and he’d insisted on talking about what he wanted if he was to die. A private funeral and cremation.
‘My agent will arrange a memorial service, no doubt, back in America, but here I want just family and for you and Saskia to scatter my ashes in the grounds of the villa.’
When she’d tried to stop such morbid talk, he’d squeezed her hand. ‘It’s important you know what I want. So promise me.’
Rosie was grateful for Seb’s matter-of-factness as she relayed the conversation to him. ‘That’s what I’ll help you arrange then.’
Saskia and Olivia returned from their walk on the beach arm in arm, with Saskia looking more composed. White but composed.
‘Your mum is a lovely person,’ she said to Rosie after Olivia had left. ‘She says if I want to I can treat her like a surrogate mum.’ Saskia looked at Rosie. ‘She said if she’d known about me she’d have insisted you kept in contact with Dad so we could have met before. Sisters deserve to know each other, she said.’
Wordlessly Rosie hugged Saskia as she inwardly promised to tell Olivia how much she loved her. Something she’d lost the chance of saying to her Dad ever again.
Over the next few days, as the funeral plans began to come together, Rosie realised with a sinking heart the funeral was going to take place just two days before Tansy’s wedding.
The morning of the funeral Rosie went down to the Café Fleur early and pinned a notice to the door. ‘Closed due to exceptional circumstances. Please forgive any inconvenience.’
She picked up some junk mail and an official-looking letter from the floor. Franked across the top of the expensive envelope was a notaire’s name. The one dealing with the accusation of food poisoning.
Rosie stared at it. All summer she’d been waiting for this and it had to arrive today. No way was she going to open it this morning. Today belonged to Terry.
She pushed the letter into the depths of her tote-bag. Later would be too soon.
There were only five of them at the crematorium. Saskia, Olivia, Zander, Seb and Rosie. Rosie was surprised to see Zander arrive with her mother, but watching the tender way he took care of Olivia opened her eyes to the fact that he was most definitely a fixture in her mother’s life.
Seb insisted they all return to the hotel for a drink to celebrate Tiki’s life. A bottle of vintage champagne was opened and it was Olivia who led the toasts to her former husband.
‘Exasperating he may have been, boring he never was. Here’s to a life well lived. RIP Tiki Gilvear formerly known as Terry Hewitt.’
It was then that Rosie’s tears started to fall. The sheer futility of it all. Finding her father only to lose him again so quickly and so permanently this time. Seb took her into his arms and held her tight, as she buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed unreservedly for all the things that could now never be rectified.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
‘There, that’s another box packed,’ Erica said with a big sigh. ‘Think that’s enough for this evening. Time for a drink and something to eat up on the terrace.’ She reached for her phone. ‘Thought I’d order a couple of takeaway pizzas if that’s OK with everyone?’
‘Can I have a four cheese one, please, Mummy,’ Cammie said instantly.
‘Me, too,’ GeeGee said, wrapping an ornament in some bubble wrap.
‘Sounds delicious,’ Amelia said, folding in the flaps on the box she’d been packing and dragging it across the room to join the other ones.
Tiredly Erica looking around the sitting room now full of cardboard boxes, empty shelves and cupboards. Working all day in The Cupboard Under the Stairs and then coming home to start packing ready for the move was exhausting. Amelia’s offer to come down and look after Cammie while Erica was at the shop and help pack up the house had been accepted with thanks.
‘I can’t believe how much stuff I’ve accumulated,’ she said. ‘We’ve barely started and already I’ve run out of cardboard boxes.’
‘I’ll pick up some more tomorrow,’ Amelia said. ‘We can have a break until the weekend and then get stuck in again.’
‘I can’t believe how quickly everything is going through,’ Erica said. ‘Less than a fortnight before we move and so much to do.’
‘Oh, about that,’ GeeGee said. ‘I forgot to tell you that the notaires have asked to bring the completion date forward by two days.’
‘Did they say why?’ Erica asked as her heart sank.
‘No. Just that they had several properties to deal with that week, and as yours had been so straightforward…’ She shrugged. ‘It’s not a problem, is it? Just means you’ll be in your new home quicker.’
Erica bit her lip. She couldn’t expect GeeGee to remember the significance of the date – it wasn’t her husband who’d died a year ago on that day. Looking at Amelia’s face she knew that she too had realised the significance of the date. Before she could say anything, the doorbell rang announcing the arrival of their pizzas and the moment was gone .
Sitting out on the terrace half an hour later, finishing their pizzas, GeeGee glanced across at Erica before saying, ‘Dan’s having a bit of an apartment-warming party at the weekend. Would love you to come and meet him.’
‘Oh, I’d love to finally meet Dan,’ Erica said. ‘But I’m not much of a party girl these days. Why don’t we meet down on the beach at Rosie’s for lunch instead?’
‘We can do that,’ GeeGee agreed. ‘But I still want you to come to the party. It would do you good to start socialising again. You go to work, go to the beach with Cammie, even visit the occasional vide grenier, but basically you avoid having a social life these days.’
Even as she went to protest, Erica realised GeeGee had spoken the truth. She’d shied away from meeting new people for months.
‘I agree,’ Amelia said. ‘You do need to get out more. And while I’m here to look after Cammie you don’t have any excuse.’
Seeing them both look at her expectantly, Erica sighed. ‘OK, I’ll think about it but I’m not promising anything.’ It had been bad enough forcing herself to return
to work and talk to customers in the shop after Pascal died, but at least there she was able to talk about the things she was selling.
Making small talk with strangers at a party was something else. Something she wasn’t sure she was ready to tackle.
‘Right,’ GeeGee said. ‘The airport calls. I’ll see you in the morning.’
There was a short silence as GeeGee left before Amelia spoke. ‘There’s something I’d like to ask you, too. Please may I take Cammie home with me for a few days before school starts again?’
‘Please, please, Mummy. Can I go with Granny?’ Cammie jumped up and down with excitement.
Erica smiled and took a deep breath. The answer just a month ago would have been a definite ‘no’, however much Cammie had begged.
‘I don’t see why not. So long as you promise to behave.’
Cammie let out a loud ‘Yippee’ and ran around the terrace excitedly. ‘And when I come back we can get our dog!’
Erica laughed before saying quietly to Amelia, ‘However much one wishes one could change things, life itself simply keeps pulling one along, forcing acceptance and moving forward, doesn’t it?’
Amelia nodded. ‘It’s not easy but accepting it is what it is, is the only way I’ve found of getting through life.’
***
The evening of Dan’s party, Erica left home to walk to the apartment, leaving Cammie and Amelia happily watching Frozen. A first for Amelia but Erica had lost count of how many times Cammie had seen it.
People were out enjoying the last of the evening sun, wandering along the narrow streets, sitting at pavement cafés enjoying moules and frites, wandering through the artisan night market buying holiday souvenirs.
Approaching Dan’s apartment along the narrow rampart pavement, Erica hoped GeeGee would remember her promise to keep an eye out and be there for her the moment she arrived. But there was no sign of her, and the street door to the four apartments was firmly closed. The intercom had an ‘hors service’ notice taped across it so was useless.
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