Chapter 22
Mel went to the market early Saturday morning to buy food – smoked salmon, blinis, cream cheese and a dozen tomates farcies – and wine for the evening.
Not knowing a great deal about wine, and suspecting both Marc and Brigitte would be far more knowledgeable, she braved the Cave de Vin down a narrow street off the market.
The wine merchant there talked her through various options, even offered her a taste, assured her Crémant was a good choice for a sparkling wine.
‘And because it is French, for us, it is, of course, better than Cava or Prosecco,’ he said, his face beaming.
So she bought four bottles and promised to return for more before Christmas Day.
The sun was shining all day and Mel hoped it wouldn’t get too cold later for spending time on the terrace.
The kitchen, modern and full of stainless and granite worktops, was the only alternative.
The thought of having to use the sitting room filled her with dread.
It was too pristine. It wasn’t as if she was trying to impress anyone. Everyone knew she was house sitting.
And Marc? What would he think? She pushed thoughts of Marc away. Doubtless, Brigitte would have told him she was a mere guardian of the villa.
Evie, arriving early to help with the food and the small amount of preparation needed, was still on a high from the supper party with Sarah, her friends and her brother Rudi. Especially her brother Rudi.
‘He’s really lovely. After he put the lights up for me, he stayed for a coffee.
Sarah’s been here for two years and he arrived about two months ago.
He’s a glassmaker and he’s come over to work in Biot, just along the coast, where there’s an important glassworks.
He’s on a six-month contract, which they’re talking about renewing for a year, which he’s pleased about because he loves it here. ’
‘How was supper?’ Mel asked. ‘Make any more friends?’
‘Supper was great. Sarah simply ordered in several pizzas and she’d bought a selection of those mini b?che de N?el we tried the other day.
It was great fun. And then everyone wanted to see my terrace after Rudi told them about it, so we finished the evening up there.
Rudi plays the guitar and one of the other men played the harmonica – badly! ’ Evie laughed.
* * *
Brigitte’s steps slowed the nearer they got to No. 5, and Marc said quietly, ‘You don’t have to go, you know. You can turn round now and go home. I can make your excuses.’
‘I am so tempted to do that,’ Brigitte said. ‘Nadia has invited me several times for lunch or drinks and I’ve always found an excuse. But, really, I do need to get over myself and stop acting like a spoilt child. I am a grown woman and it all happened forty years ago.’
They stopped in front of the tall gates enclosing the group of villas and Marc looked at her. ‘Decision time. In or walk away.’
Brigitte’s hand reached out and her fingers hovered over the intercom button for several seconds before she finally pushed it.
Mel had clearly been waiting for it to buzz, as almost instantly there was a click, and the small side pedestrian gate slid open.
Brigitte reached for the comforting feel of Marc’s hand as they walked through and up the drive. ‘Everything will be fine,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Just treat it as a house that belongs to someone else and you’re looking forward to seeing the inside.’
Mel opened the front door as they approached and light streamed out from the hallway. Brigitte managed to hold back a gasp as she entered the hallway and saw all the marble, the sculpture in the corners, and the artwork on the walls.
Marc, not feeling the need to hold back, simply said, ‘Wow. This is amazing.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’ Mel said. ‘The responsibility for it all scares me half to death if I stop and think about it. Come on in and decide whether we stay in the kitchen or brave the terrace.’
Croque Monsieur ignored Marc and made straight for Brigitte, his tail wagging furiously.
Brigitte, glad of the time to gather her thoughts, surreptitiously took in the ultra-modern kitchen, as she bent down to pet the dog. ‘So, so different,’ she muttered to herself.
‘Perhaps start off on the terrace,’ Marc said. ‘We can always come in if we feel cold.’
‘That’s what I was hoping,’ Mel said, smiling at him gratefully, briefly wondering why Brigitte was giving the dog so much attention, before she turned back to Marc and led the way out.
‘Evie and I have put the drinks and the nibbles out here already. I often sit out here in the evening, it’s so atmospheric with the moon and the solar lights dotted around the garden. ’
Straightening up, Brigitte pulled herself together enough to follow them out to the terrace to greet Evie and to introduce her to Marc, whilst Mel, praying everyone would agree with the man in the wine shop, carefully poured four glasses of sparkling Crémant.
‘Santé, and here’s to new friends,’ Mel said, raising her glass in a toast.
Marc’s strangely intense gaze rested on her alone as he raised his own glass, saying quietly, ‘New friends,’ and smiling at her. Not wanting to break the moment, Mel held his gaze and returned the smile, but could feel her cheeks getting hot and hoped that neither Evie nor Brigitte had noticed.
Brigitte was strangely silent, grasping the stem of her glass tightly as she took gulp after gulp of the cold wine.
Mel placed her glass on the table and picked up a plate of smoked salmon and cream cheese blinis and offered them to everyone.
‘Sorry, Evie, I couldn’t find any bagels this morning,’ Mel apologised.
‘No worries,’ Evie said. ‘These are delicious.’
Marc agreed, happily taking another one when Mel offered him the plate again.
Brigitte, though, declined. ‘A top-up of wine would be lovely, though,’ she said, holding out her almost empty glass.
As Mel filled poured the wine, she asked quietly. ‘Are you OK?’
Brigitte nodded. ‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you, just a little overwhelmed at the villa,’ and she took a gulp of her wine.
‘I know that feeling,’ Mel said. ‘When I first walked in and saw all the valuable things dotted around the place, I wanted to turn and run away from the responsibility.’
Brigitte shook her head. ‘No, it’s not that.
’ She glanced towards Marc, who was chatting away to Evie and took a deep breath.
‘This villa used to belong to my family and we all loved it. I spent a lot of time here with my grandparents.’ She paused.
‘After they both passed, a scandal came to the surface which meant the house had to be sold. My maman and Uncle Albert were devastated. And, as an angry teenager, I vowed never to set foot in the place again. But here I am, forty years later, and still bitter about the loss.’ She sighed.
‘But the little I’ve seen of the house tonight, I can tell it has changed out of all recognition.
It’s no longer the villa I loved and mourned.
And I, of course, have grown up and realise my reaction was over the top.
’ Brigitte took a deep breath. ‘Sorry. I know it’s impossible to change the past, and I also know I should have stopped being so bitter years ago.
’ She bit her bottom lip and turned her face away from Mel slightly to brush a tear away with her free hand.
Mel glanced over to Marc and Evie, hoping to catch Marc’s attention and give him what she hoped would be a pleading look for help without Brigitte seeing. As both Marc and Evie looked across at her, Mel inclined her head towards Brigitte, mouthed ‘She’s upset,’ and wiped the top of her cheek.
Marc flashed a concerned look at Brigitte. She gave him a weak smile. ‘Worry not. I’m fine. Just a bit emotional. A couple of those delicious-looking blinis or a tomate farcie, and maybe a coffee rather than more wine,’ she said, looking at Mel.
‘Of course,’ Mel said. ‘Anyone else like a coffee?’
Both Evie and Marc shook their heads.
In the kitchen, Mel spooned coffee into the cafetière thoughtfully, and placed a cup, sugar and some milk on a tray. No wonder Brigitte had wanted her cousin to accompany her tonight. Coming back here after so long must be a big milestone in her life.
Mel smiled at Marc as he joined her in the kitchen. ‘Is Brigitte OK?’
He nodded.
‘You must have memories of the villa too,’ Mel said quietly. ‘Is tonight the first time you’ve returned since it was sold?’
‘Yes. But the place has never meant as much to me as it did to other members of the family. My papa left Antibes quite early because of his home life and I rarely spent any time here like Brigitte did. I’m glad she came tonight, she can start to forget and forgive now, I hope.’
Mel switched off the kettle as it boiled, waited several seconds, and then poured the hot water onto the coffee.
‘Will you have lunch with me tomorrow?’ Marc said.
Mel looked at him surprised. ‘Yes, I’d like that, thank you.’
‘I’ll pick you up at twelve o’clock. Here, let me take that out for you,’ he said, as Mel placed the top with its plunger onto the full cafetière, and he picked up the tray to carry it out. ‘We’ll take Croque Monsieur with us, so don’t worry about leaving him.’
Mel, following him out to the terrace, wondered whether she should mention that she was married, but it was just new friends having lunch together, nothing else. Even if there did seem to be some sort of instant connection between the two of them. After all, he could be married too.