Chapter 39
Two days later, after Justin had left, Marc drove up to collect Mel for the house viewing he had in Valbonne. Mel gave a secret smile when she saw he was wearing the gloves. Once again, there was a blanket on the back seat for Croque Monsieur, who jumped into the car happily.
There were two brochures on the front passenger seat which Mel picked up before she sat down. ‘These look very grand,’ she said, glancing at them.
‘The one on top is the one I’m truly interested in,’ Marc said. ‘It’s got everything I need or want in a home.’
‘It looks wonderful. Oh…’
Marc glanced at her. ‘Something the matter?’
‘No. It’s just that I saw this one in the window when we had lunch, I thought then it looked lovely and I was going to point it out to you, but that was before I saw the three-million-euro price. I didn’t realise you had that kind of budget.’
‘I can’t quite believe it either,’ Marc said. ‘I shall need a biggish mortgage, but both Veronica and I got a lump sum from the proceeds of our London house and living with Papa for ten years, I was able to save a bit, so I’ve got a pretty hefty deposit.’
‘Which one are we seeing first?’
‘The other one. I need something to compare the favourite one to.’
* * *
The agent was waiting for them at the first house when they drew up.
‘It does looks nicer with the sun shining on it than it does in the brochure,’ Mel said quietly. Situated on a small modern estate, it was an attractive-looking house, but Mel didn’t think it looked anything special.
‘The owners have disappeared for half an hour,’ the agent said. ‘So we are free to wander around at will.’
Mel followed the two men into the house, happy to hang back, to let Marc see everything first. The three of them wandered through the house and finally out into the garden and the garage.
Mel silently decided it was quite a nice house, but even if she had the money she wouldn’t want to live in it.
She couldn’t see Marc living here either.
They left before the owners returned, the agent locking the door securely behind them, before following him to the second house, which was out of the village in a more rural area.
It was a house that dreams were made of, Mel thought, as she stepped out of the car.
Not modern but not old either. A house that suited its surroundings.
She almost didn’t want to go into the house in case it disappointed.
The elderly owners were there and welcomed them in but left it to the agent to show them around.
Afterwards, Mel remembered how welcoming the house had felt, how wonderful the old-fashioned steel-framed conservatory had been.
Yes, the kitchen and the bathroom would benefit from being updated and the whole villa needed decorating, but the place just felt like a home.
In her opinion, the second villa would be perfect for Marc.
As they were leaving, Marc made a point of shaking the owners by the hand. ‘You have a wonderful home, I suspect it is hard to sell it.’
They both gave a sad nod. ‘But times change and we have to change with them.’
Outside, the agent stood by the car. ‘I expect you need time to think about both properties, but I have to tell you that we have three more viewings for both of them this week. If you are seriously interested in either, my advice would be to put in an offer within the next twenty-four hours.’
Marc nodded. ‘I need to think about it and discuss it with Mel. I’ll give you a ring after lunch.’
‘Can I ask which of the properties you are likely to be interested in?’
‘That’s what I have to decide. Thanks.’
Marc drove slowly away from the property and turned onto a quiet country lane and pulled into a convenient lay-by.
‘Let’s give Croque Monsieur a chance to stretch his legs, and then – how do you feel about lunch in Monaco? Their Christmas decorations will still be in place and are usually quite spectacular. It’s not far down the A8, an hour at the most.’
Mel couldn’t help but clap her hands together like an excited child. ‘Can we? I’d love to see Monaco.’
Marc smiled. ‘Good. We can talk about the house over lunch.’
As they drove down the autoroute, Marc spoke.
‘Hervé’s girls have gone back to Paris. I think he’s feeling a bit lost, so he has invited Brigitte and me for supper on New Year’s Eve before we all wander out to join in the festivities at midnight. Would you like to come with me? Make up a foursome?’
‘I would if Hervé doesn’t mind me tagging along? I don’t know him that well.’
‘He was delighted when I mentioned bringing you along.’
‘In that case, I’d love to come,’ Mel said happily. ‘I love the informality of making friends down here. Everyone is so friendly and quick to issue invitations.’
‘Only to people they like a lot,’ Marc said, laughing.
‘Which of the houses did you prefer?’ Mel ventured, longing to hear his thoughts, and unable to not ask the question. ‘I know you told the agent you needed to decide which one, but I suspect you have a preference for one of them.’
Marc nodded thoughtfully. ‘I do. As far as I’m concerned, one is way more appealing to me than the other. Do you have a preference? Which would you buy?’
Mel laughed. ‘I can’t afford either of them, way out of my price range. If I was thinking of buying down here, it would be at a much lower price. A one-bedroom apartment, no garden, no garage.’
‘That wasn’t what I asked,’ Marc said quietly. ‘Which would you buy if you could?’
‘I’d buy the second one,’ Mel said instantly. ‘I loved it the moment I walked through the door. It has a special feeling – you know, like some houses do. I could see you living there, turning it into a lovely home.’
Marc let out a deep breath. ‘Good. We’re in agreement. Because that’s the one I want. I’m going to put an offer in this afternoon.’ And with a warm smile at Mel, Marc accelerated and pulled out into the fast lane. ‘Monaco, here we come.’
* * *
As they came out of the road tunnel leading into Monaco, Mel blinked as she saw the harbour and the sun glinting on the water and all the superyachts moored there.
Marc parked in the underground car park near Port Hercule and moments later they were walking with Croque Monsieur on his lead alongside the harbour towards the Christmas village and market.
‘It’s almost too much to take in,’ Mel said, looking around at everything: the big wheel, the gift chalets, festive decorations, the ice rink over the swimming pool, the street entertainers and the food stalls.
‘It’s still quite busy too, even though Christmas has gone. I can’t imagine how busy it must have been in the run-up to Christmas.’
‘Shall we stroll on up to Casino Square,’ Marc said. ‘The decorations are always pretty amazing up there too. Hopefully, we can find a table at the Café de Paris for lunch.’
Strolling up towards the casino, Mel couldn’t help stopping every so often to stand and look down over the bay.
They lingered outside the casino and looked at the luxury cars parked outside.
Ferrari, Maserati, Porsche, but the one that stopped Marc in his tracks was the vintage Bugatti. ‘So beautiful,’ he murmured.
‘So expensive.’ Mel had to practically drag him away in the direction of the Café de Paris, where she had spotted a vacant table on the terrace.
Sitting there in the sunshine surreptitiously looking at other women diners, she felt her spirits droop. Everyone was so glamorous, with their beautiful clothes and accessories.
‘Hey, where have you gone?’ Marc said quietly.
‘Sorry, I was miles away thinking about – not exactly how glamorous everyone here looks in their designer clothes, immaculate hair and make-up – but how put together and confident the women especially look. I suddenly felt – not sure how to explain it – a bit provincial and out of my depth, I suppose. But it’s interesting to see another world. ’
Marc took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Most of those women spend a fortune and still don’t look as good as you do right now. You’re naturally beautiful. Do not put yourself down.’