Chapter 27
Before walking down to Antibes the next morning, Mel rang Evie to suggest a coffee at the market café below her apartment. When she arrived, Evie was already sat at one of the two tables squashed onto the narrow pavement with a coffee. ‘Hi. I’ve ordered a cappuccino for you, is that OK?’
‘Perfect,’ Mel said. ‘Thank you.’
‘Where’s Croque Monsieur?’
‘I’m hoping to get my hair done somewhere this morning, so I left him in charge of the villa.’
‘Where were you yesterday afternoon? I walked up to see you and you weren’t there.’
‘I had lunch with Marc,’ Mel admitted. ‘He took me to Valbonne in his amazing vintage car. I had a lovely time.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘Are you seeing him again?’
‘Yes – tomorrow night at the party.’
She laughed at Evie’s frustrated, ‘You know that’s not what I meant.’
The waiter brought Mel’s cappuccino over and placed it on the table with a flourish, smiling as he walked off.
‘Merci,’ Mel called after him. ‘Did you see anything of Sarah or Rudi yesterday?’ Mel asked before Evie could continue interrogating her about Marc.
‘I had a glass of wine with them both yesterday evening. Rudi’s got the afternoon off work tomorrow and was talking about us walking to Juan-les-Pins tomorrow afternoon and meeting up for a drink tomorrow night after the party.’
‘And?’ Mel said, laughing at her.
Evie laughed with her. ‘He’s nice and I think we’re going to be good friends, but there’s no extra-special spark there for me.’
‘You definitely need a spark for a relationship,’ Mel said, remembering but not mentioning her own spark of attraction to Marc.
‘Talking of the party,’ Mel said. ‘I thought we might buy some flowers for Monique and some chocolates for Brigitte from the two of us, as a thank you?’
‘Great idea. I felt bad enough not taking anything to Sarah’s the other evening.
Going empty-handed tomorrow night feels like it would be a real social no-no.
’ Evie glanced at Mel. ‘Brigitte breaking down like that on Saturday was a surprise, wasn’t it?
Can’t help wondering what kind of scandal it could be. ’
Mel shrugged. ‘We’ll never know. Marc said Monique was still bitter about the whole thing, but that his papa, Monique’s brother, didn’t have happy memories of the place or his father, and simply accepted what happened and moved on.
’ She took a drink of her cappuccino. ‘I don’t know why I don’t drink this more often instead of ordinary coffee, it’s delicious.
Right. Hervé’s first to order flowers and then to the chocolatiers along the same street. ’
‘After we’ve done that, I’ve got to get back and do some work,’ Evie said. ‘I pitched two articles to a French magazine last week and they want one of them before Christmas.’
‘Well done you, even if the deadline is a little short. We need to pay for the coffees and get going.’
* * *
Hervé was standing outside his shop and gave Mel a broad smile when he saw her. ‘Bonjour. How can I help today?’
Mel quickly explained they were going to a champagne and aperitif party the next day and wanted some flowers to say thank you to their hostesses.
‘Would that be a certain Monique and Brigitte?’ Hervé asked.
‘Yes. You know them?’
Hervé nodded. ‘You can’t live in Antibes and not know Monique. Also, Brigitte and I are friends.’
‘I’ve just realised, I saw you in the Christmas market with Brigitte – I thought you were her husband,’ Evie said laughing.
‘What made you think that?’ Hervé asked quietly.
‘I suppose because you looked so good together,’ Evie said. ‘Body language and all that.’
Hervé nodded thoughtfully.
‘Do you know Monique’s favourite flowers?’ Mel asked.
‘Yellow roses,’ Hervé answered.
‘Could you do an arrangement rather than a bouquet? And deliver it as late as possible tomorrow afternoon?’ Mel looked at him hopefully.
‘Oui. What message would you like to accompany the cadeau?’
Mel glanced at Evie. ‘Joyeux Noel. Best wishes from Mellisa Knight and Evie Sampson.’ Mel handed over her credit card.
As Hervé gave the credit card back, he said, ‘Will you be home this evening around seven o’clock?’
Surprised, Mel nodded. ‘Yes, I will.’
‘Good. I’ll see you later today, and the two of you tomorrow night at the party.’
‘Chocolate shop next,’ Mel said as they turned to leave the shop.
‘If you’re buying Brigitte chocolates, her favourites are milk chocolate with soft caramel,’ Hervé called out.
‘Antibes old town is like a village, everyone seems to know everyone,’ Mel laughed.
At the chocolate shop, they filled a large self-selection box with mainly milk chocolate soft caramels, they also put in some pralines, a few dark chocolate truffles and a couple of milk chocolate coffee and cream.
Evie insisted on paying for the box and also on giving Mel some euros to balance things out with the roses.
It was then they realised they had a slight problem.
The chocolatier, whilst wrapping the box as a present, unlike Hervé, didn’t offer a delivery service.
They would have to take the box with them on the night.
Which wasn’t really a problem, but they both felt having the two presents delivered as a surprise would have been nicer in a way.
‘How about you take them and give them to Brigitte today. That way, Monique gets the flowers on the day but Brigitte gets to keep the chocolates,’ Evie said. ‘And if she doesn’t want to share them, she doesn’t have to!’
‘I’ll do that,’ Mel said.
Outside the shop, they said their goodbyes, and Mel carried on to Place Nationale and Vintage Vignettes.
Passing a hairdresser’s on the way with a ‘Reservations not always necessary’ notice in the window, she pushed open the door and went in hopefully, her heart sinking as she saw how busy they were.
The receptionist who spoke a little English told her they could fit her in but not right away – it would be an hour’s wait. Mel booked the slot, promised to return then, and carried on to Vintage Vignettes.
Brigitte smiled her welcome. ‘Hi. Thanks for coming. And thank you for Saturday night. I owe you an apology for letting my emotions run away with me in public.’
‘No, you don’t,’ Mel said. ‘It was a bit of a milestone occasion for you after forty years and I completely understand now why you wanted Marc there as moral support.’
‘Thank you for being so understanding,’ Brigitte said, looking at the gift-wrapped present Mel was holding out to her. ‘What’s this?’
‘It’s a small thank you from Evie and me for inviting us to the party tomorrow night.
Your mother is getting a yellow roses flower arrangement delivered tomorrow from a certain florist as a thank you.
You’re getting your thank you a day early.
Neither of us wanted to come to the party empty-handed. ’
‘Thank you so much,’ and Brigitte started to unwrap the present. ‘It’s from my favourite chocolatier, thank you again.’
‘We were told your favourite chocolate by a friend, so there are rather more of those than anything else,’ Mel said.
‘I’m hoping he told you soft caramel in milk chocolate. He did. Here, you must try one,’ and Brigitte held the box out for Mel to take one. ‘Go on. I insist,’ this as Mel shook her head.
‘They’re for you,’ Mel said. But Brigitte refused to take no for an answer, so Mel took one and placed it in her mouth.
‘Mmm. That is utterly, utterly divine. I see why they are your favourite. Thank you. Now, before I forget, is there a dress code for the party tomorrow and what time is it?’
‘Seven-thirty for eight.’ Brigitte sighed.
‘Maman always answers the rest of the question with a wave of her hand and says, wear whatever you like, darling. I would add a little caveat to that, wear a party dress, or something you’d wear to an expensive restaurant.
Maman would never say anything to anyone in public, but she always has a lot to say to me privately afterwards – usually along the lines of, I do wish people would make more of an effort for my party,’ she said, making a high faux-posh voice for the last sentence.
Mel looked at her dismayed. ‘I’m not sure that I’ve got such a dress with me. We will do our best. You can tell me afterwards whether we passed the test or not! Now, what did you want to see me about?’
‘I have a customer’s dress that needs some TLC for a tear. Only problem is she wants it for the twenty-seventh to wear for a big wedding anniversary. I’ve told her I can’t possibly commit to that date until you’ve seen it. It’s hanging in the office. Follow me.’
Brigitte took the silk dress out of its protective bag and pointed out the damage about an inch near the bottom.
Mel looked at it carefully. ‘Probably caught it on a stiletto heel. It’s a relatively easy mend, similar to ones I’ve done many times in the past. Do you have reels of cotton and silk thread? Otherwise you’ll have to point me in the direction of where I can source them locally.’
Brigitte pointed to a large biscuit tin on a shelf. ‘Everything you need should be in there. If not, there is another one in the cupboard with more thread and even odd bits of material.’
Mel opened the tin and glanced inside. ‘Oh, this is great. I can have the dress ready for collection by the afternoon of the twenty-sixth if that is OK.’
‘Brilliant.’
‘Can I leave it here for now and collect it in a couple of hours please? I’ve got a hair appointment this morning.’
‘Not a problem.’ Brigitte looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Go and have a look along the dress rail before you go, I have a feeling there is something there which would suit you and be more than suitable for the party.’
‘Really?’ Mel made her way to the other side of the shop where dresses were hanging on a rail.
One dress caught her eye immediately and carefully she took it off the rail.
Rich burgundy velvet, it was maxi length, a fitted style, with a scooped neckline, three-quarter-length sleeves with long lace frills spilling out of the cuffs. Mel searched in vain for a price.
‘How much is it?’
‘Try it on. We’ll talk about that later. There’s a changing cubicle behind that curtain,’ Brigitte called out.
When Mel walked out of the changing cubicle Brigitte nodded.
‘I knew that dress would be perfect on you.’
‘It does feel rather good,’ Mel said. ‘It could easily become my go-to dress for lots of occasions – not that I go to many posh do’s these days.’
‘Go and change and I’ll pack it up for you.’
‘Is it not too much for your mother’s party?’ Mel asked.
‘It’s perfect,’ Brigitte assured her.
‘How much is it?’ Mel asked.
‘Forty euros. You repairing the silk dress covers the rest of it.’ As Mel went to protest, ‘It’s not up for discussion,’ Brigitte said firmly. ‘Haven’t you got a hairdresser’s appointment to get to? Leave everything here and I’ll see you later. And thanks again for the chocolates.’