Chapter 30
‘Come on in. Love your hair,’ Evie said as she opened the door to Mel the next evening.
‘You look so different. It’s great. I’m still trying to decide which dress to wear.
I really wanted to wear the blue one because I’ve got a costume jewellery brooch GeeGee left me which accents the dress perfectly, but I’m worried I’ll make the tear worse. ’
‘Show me. I’d forgotten you mentioned a dress with a tear to Brigitte.’
Evie took the dress off the bed. ‘The tear is on the elbow of the right sleeve.’
Mel, seeing the dress label, looked at Evie. ‘This is an original Chanel.’
Evie nodded. ‘GeeGee bought it. I think possibly either in America before she came over, or in Monaco whilst she was here.’
Mel gently straightened the sleeve and sighed as she examined the damage.
‘I don’t think you should risk it tonight, it’s torn in a very vulnerable place, and any arm movement could make it worse.
I can mend and reinforce it for you, though.
There’s sure to be another party you can wear it to while you’re down here. ’
‘OK. I’ll wear the icicle dress,’ and Evie replaced the dress on the bed and picked up a white sequinned dress with two beaded fringes that fell to just below the knee.
‘Oh, that’s a real flapper dress. I can see why you call it the icicle dress,’ Mel said. ‘It’s lovely.’
‘I’ve got a faux fur white bolero to wear with it,’ Evie said. ‘Right, let’s get ready. Before I forget, though, Rudi is going to be on his own over the two days of Christmas – Sarah is spending the time with her boyfriend and his family, and I was wondering if…’
‘Of course you can bring Rudi for lunch,’ Mel said, guessing what Evie was about to ask. ‘Is he on his own for Christmas Eve too?’
‘He was but we’re spending it together here now,’ Evie said, smiling. ‘You can join us for that. I’m just going to buy lots of treats and several bottles of sparkling wine.’
‘Thanks, but you and Rudi enjoy the time together. Justin is arriving tomorrow, so I won’t be alone. Besides, I shall be busy peeling sprouts like the English woman I am.’
Evie gave her a puzzled look. ‘Sprouts? Christmas Eve?’
Mel laughed. ‘Sorry. It’s a very British joke. Sprouts are an integral part of a British roast dinner, but people always tended to overcook them in the past, supposedly preparing and putting them on hours before they were needed.’
Evie stared at her. ‘Sometimes I just do not understand British humour.’
Fleetingly, Mel wondered whether Marc would like to have Christmas dinner with the three of them. She pushed the thought away. He wasn’t alone; he had family around who would doubtless be planning things.
* * *
Half an hour later, they were walking along the ramparts. ‘We need to find the red door,’ Mel said.
Evie pointed at the couple in front of them. ‘I think we just follow that couple, they look as if they are going to the same place.’
‘They’re very glamorous,’ Mel said, her heart sinking. This evening was definitely going to be outside of her comfort zone. ‘There’s quite a crowd coming from the opposite direction.’
They joined the end of the queue waiting to enter the hallway of the three-storey building whose lights were blazing out across the ramparts.
Craning her neck, Mel could see Brigitte standing with an elderly couple, presumably Monique and her brother, greeting everyone.
To her relief, she saw Marc talking to Hervé slightly behind them, and he flashed her a smile as he saw them both in the queue.
‘So many people,’ Mel whispered to Evie. ‘Must be the party of the season.’
Brigitte smiled when they finally stood in front of her. ‘Bonjour, Mel, Evie, this is my maman Monique and my uncle, Albert Rochefort. Mel Knight and Evie Sampson. They sent you your beautiful yellow roses.’
Albert was the first to respond and held out his hand to each of them. ‘Enchanté, Madame and Mademoiselle. I speak some English – we talk later peut-être?’
Monique shook Mel’s hand, ‘Welcome,’ and turned to Evie and seemed to freeze. Several seconds passed before Brigitte nudged Monique as she stared silently at Evie. She didn’t offer Evie her hand. ‘Vous portez du Chanel.’ And with those words, she seemed to pull herself together.
Surprised, Evie nodded. ‘Yes. I’m wearing Chanel – aren’t I lucky? It was my great-grandmother’s.’
‘You are indeed lucky,’ Monique said. ‘Thank you for the flowers. Welcome to the party,’ and she turned away ready to greet the next guest.
‘Maman? ?a va?’ Brigitte asked quietly.
Monique nodded. ‘Who’s next?’
As Mel and Evie quickly moved away from the entrance to make room for more guests, Marc and Hervé came forward to greet them both.
‘Evie, can I take you to meet my daughters? They are a little lost at the moment with all of us old folk around,’ and he laughed.
‘Thanks, that would be great – I know how they feel,’ Evie added with a mischievous look at Mel. ‘I’ll see you in a bit.’
Mel followed Marc up a flight of stairs to a room already almost full of people, where a smiling waitress handed them all glasses of champagne.
‘Let’s make for the terrace,’ Marc said. ‘If nothing else, it will be less crowded. The stairs are this way.’
The rooftop terrace of the house was something else, and Mel caught her breath as she looked around.
Palm trees planted in large Grecian urns, white lights wound around their trunks, were placed in the two corners, whilst smaller urns were planted with Yuccas.
Dotted around on the terracotta tiles, as well as on a couple of bistro tables, were large white candles in lanterns.
The view of the Mediterranean sparkling in the moonlight, the lights of the traffic travelling along the coast in both directions was beautiful.
Watching the nightlife down below as people walked along the ramparts was simply spellbinding.
Mel shook her head in amazement. ‘If someone had said to me six months ago I would be standing on a rooftop in the South of France admiring the view and looking forward to Christmas, I would have thought they were out of their minds. I was, I thought, a happily married woman at the time, with no idea that my world was about to suffer a catastrophic, seismic shock.’
Marc gently caught hold of her hand. ‘I know how that feels. But how do you feel right at this moment?’
‘I feel very happy standing here with you,’ Mel said, unexpectedly enjoying the feeling of the way their hands naturally entwined themselves.
‘Hold on tight to that feeling because that’s what you have to remember and work with on the bad days,’ Marc said gently.
‘You know I told you I was separated?’ Mel said quietly.
Marc nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘It’s unofficial at the moment, so the truth is I am married. Silver wedding last year. One son, Justin.’
‘But you are here alone for three months? Your husband doesn’t mind?’ Marc looked at her surprised.
‘Geoff has taken a year off from work – and our marriage – to go travelling.’
‘You didn’t want to go with him?’
‘I wasn’t offered the opportunity. He simply left one afternoon and said he’d see me in a year.’ Mel paused. ‘I’m not sure that he will if the photographs on his Instagram and Facebook accounts are anything to go by.’
‘I’m so sorry, this must be so hard for you,’ Marc said, squeezing her hand sympathetically.
Mel nodded. ‘Thank you. It is hard, but I’m beginning to realise, and accept, that my marriage is dead, or at the very least in its dying throes.’
‘There you are,’ Albert said as he and Brigitte stepped onto the terrace, and the closeness Mel had felt at that moment with Marc was broken as their hands separated. Momentarily, she felt lost without the reassuring touch of his hand in hers, but she smiled brightly at Brigitte and Albert.
‘I hear you are staying in my old childhood home,’ Albert said to Mel.
Mel nodded.
‘And Evie, she stays with you too?’
‘No. She is staying in an apartment overlooking the market.’
‘Have you known her long?’
‘No. I met her the week I arrived here, so three weeks. I’m sorry, but I feel you’re cross-examining me about Evie, may I ask why?’
‘I too am sorry,’ Albert said. ‘I did not mean to do that. I was just interested in how you knew each other. You being English and Evie American. Have you heard of the “Six Degrees of Separation”?’
‘Is that the idea that people are six, or fewer, social connections away from each other?’
Albert nodded. ‘I find it a fascinating subject, and it’s surprising just how often it turns out to be true.’
Mel smiled. ‘Not this time, though, I’m afraid. Evie and I had absolutely nothing to connect us when we met here. She was lonely and I was on my own, and despite the fact I’m old enough to be her mother, we’re good friends now.’
A waiter appeared at that moment with a platter of nibbles and started to offer them around.
‘I’d better get back downstairs,’ Brigitte said. ‘I’ll see you all later.’
‘I think I’ll come down with you,’ Albert said. ‘Another glass of champagne would be most welcome.’
As the two of them left, Marc looked at Mel. ‘Alone again.’
Mel laughed. ‘Apart from another dozen or so people around us.’
‘Yes, but they are not my family or yours, so we can ignore them.’
They stayed up on the terrace for some time before Marc suggested that as it was getting cold perhaps they ought to go indoors and mingle a little.
It was an hour or so later when Mel told Marc she was ready to leave. ‘I need to find Evie, and also to thank Brigitte and Monique for a lovely evening.’
‘I’ll walk you home when you’ve done that,’ Marc said.
Evie was laughing with Hervé’s daughters, Kate and Lucie, when Mel found her in a crowded small room on the second floor. ‘I’m off home now.’
‘I’m going to take these two to meet Rudi and Sarah when we leave here,’ Evie said. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow for shopping.’
After Mel had found Brigitte and Monique, and said her thank yous, she made her way downstairs and out onto the ramparts, where Marc had said he’d wait for her.
It felt like the most natural thing in the world for Marc to take Mel by the hand again as the two of them strolled slowly up through a busy Antibes where there seemed to be Christmas jollity of some sort on every corner. Mel smiled. ‘I’ve had a lovely evening.’
‘Me too,’ Marc said.
Reaching the entrance to the gated community, Mel pressed the pedestrian gate button. ‘Would you like to come in for a nightcap?’
‘I’d better get back. There is sure to be a postmortem after the guests have left and Brigitte will be in the firing line for all Monique’s criticism. Papa will be there but…’ he shrugged.
Mel nodded, disappointed that the evening was finishing but understanding his reason. Impulsively, she decided to mention Christmas Day lunch, in case Marc would like a reason to escape for a few hours.
‘I know you’ll be celebrating with family on Christmas Eve and I expect you have plans for lunch on Christmas Day too? My son Justin is arriving tomorrow, and Evie and Rudi are joining us for lunch on the twenty-fifth. Always room for one more if you would like to join us too?’
‘I’d love that,’ Marc said. ‘Thank you.’
‘You would? That’s great,’ Mel said, beaming at him.
‘I wanted to ask you something too. I have an appointment two days after Christmas to look at a couple of houses. Will you come with me? I’d value your unbiased opinion.’
‘Yes, of course I will. I love looking at property. I’m surprised you don’t have to wait until the New Year for an appointment.’
‘Why?’
‘At home, the week between Christmas and New Year is very quiet, a lot of businesses close for a week’s holiday.’
Marc shook his head. ‘Not here in France. Perhaps if there was a weekend near we would faire the pont.’ He laughed at her puzzled expression. ‘It means to make a bridge. If Thursday is a public holiday, we would possibly take Friday off and have a four-day weekend.’
‘A long weekend,’ Mel said. ‘Makes sense.’
‘Right, I’d better get back,’ and Marc leant in and placed a swift unexpected kiss on her lips. ‘Goodnight. I enjoyed this evening with you and I’m looking forward to Christmas Day now.’