Life's a Beach and Then... (The Liberty Sands Trilogy Book 1) (6 page)

At two minutes to eight Holly stood at the entrance to Waves restaurant
waiting to be shown to her table. She was a couple of minutes early, one of the
habits she had formed when picking Harry up from school. She couldn’t bear the
thought of him standing alone and frightened at the school gate as she herself
had on so many occasions as a child.

The waitress, Ornelia, who had served her lunch the previous
day approached. ‘Table for one madam?’ she enquired.

‘No,’ replied Holly, ‘I’m dining with the Forresters this
evening.’

‘Oh yes,’ Ornelia said, ‘they mentioned they were dining
with friends tonight. Please follow me.’

Had Holly misheard? Had the waitress just said friends,
plural?

Holly could see Robert and Rosemary now, standing next to a
table right at the front of the restaurant, chatting to the same manager in his
cream linen suit that she had seen them with on her first evening. Friends in
high places, thought Holly, as she made her way across the restaurant. Very
useful for getting the best table in the place.

At that moment Rosemary saw her, said something to the two
men and they turned and watched as she walked the final few steps towards them.

‘Holly you look beautiful,’ Rosemary said as she pulled her
into a warm embrace. ‘There are so few people who can wear yellow, but it
really suits you.’

Holly had dressed for the occasion in her favourite shift
dress and twisted her dark curls into the bejewelled Butler & Wilson hair
clip that Harry had bought her for Christmas. It was the name which had
attracted him to it, a little private joke for the two of them to share, but
Holly had fallen in love with the clip the moment she opened the shocking pink
box and wore it whenever she needed an extra boost of confidence. A light
application of make-up completed her look.

‘Thank you,’ she said, blushing slightly. ‘So do you.’

Rosemary wore a full-length floral dress in pink, which fell
away from her body beneath the bust disguising her thinness. Her golden wavy
hair gathered softly on her shoulders and her smile lit up her startlingly blue
eyes.

‘This is Philippe,’ said Rosemary, gesturing to the man in
the linen suit.

Philippe took Holly’s hand and raised it briefly to his
lips. ‘
Enchanté
,’ he murmured.

Holly hardly noticed what he said. This was the horseman
from the beach the previous morning, the one who had reminded her of Brad Pitt
and Gareth. On closer examination he wasn’t that much like Gareth at all apart
from his colouring and his physique. His facial features were sharper,
particularly the thin, slightly hooked Gallic nose and his piercing green eyes
which were looking directly into her own olive ones.

She blushed again, aware that she hadn’t said anything.

‘Nice to meet you,’ she stammered.

Philippe released her hand, and moved behind her to pull the
chair out for her sit down. Robert had done the same for his wife before taking
his seat opposite her. Regaining her composure, Holly sat and then was a little
surprised when Philippe took the fourth chair at the table. Dining with the
paying guests was not completely unheard of but it was quite unusual and she wondered
if the hotel group was aware that their managers fraternised in this way when
clearly on duty.

At that moment another restaurant manager, who Holly hadn’t
seen before, approached their table with the menus and asked what they would
like to drink.

‘We’ll start with a bottle each of the house red and white,’
said Robert. ‘If that’s all right with everyone?’ he added.

‘Fine with me,’ confirmed Philippe.

‘May I also have a bottle of sparkling water please?’ Holly
asked.

‘Certainly madam,’ said the manager, whose little metal
badge gave his name as Vij. ‘I will come back and take your order presently.’

‘Are you not drinking again this evening?’ questioned
Rosemary. ‘The house wine here really is very good.’

‘I know,’ smiled Holly. ‘If you remember I sampled rather
too much of it on my first evening,’ she admitted, regretting her confession
immediately. She didn’t want to sound like a lush but she didn’t want to appear
anti-social either, so she continued, ‘I’m sure one glass won’t do any harm but
I do enjoy the refreshment of sparkling water when I’m in hot countries.’

‘I agree,’ Rosemary said. ‘Nothing is quite like water for
quenching a thirst.’

Holly smiled appreciatively at Rosemary, grateful for her
help in getting out of the hole she had just dug for herself. She opened the
menu, which thankfully was big enough for her to hide behind, so that she
didn’t need to speak for a few moments. She hadn’t expected another person to
be joining them for dinner and it had caught her off guard especially as this
Frenchman was so good looking. She risked a glance over the top of her menu to
find that Philippe was looking straight at her.

‘Were you wearing a coral dress on your first evening here?’
he asked. Rosemary and Robert both turned to look at him. ‘And your hair was
loose, yes?’

Holly nodded.

‘I remember seeing you in the restaurant and wondering who
the lucky person was that you were dining with, and now it’s me.’

There was an awkward pause before Robert joked, ‘I think we
could safely call that the direct approach.’

‘I’m sorry if I have embarrassed you, Holly? It’s just that
I couldn’t help but notice such a beautiful woman.’

Holly smiled. ‘I’m flattered rather than embarrassed,’ she
said, lowering her eyes back to the menu.

Vij returned and placed a basket of various breads on the
table, before pouring the wine and taking their food order. The other three had
all ordered fish for their main course and once again Holly regretted her
decision to claim to be a vegetarian.

‘So how long have you worked at the hotel, Philippe?’ she
asked, savouring the fruity crispness of another good quality French wine.

Philippe looked puzzled, but Robert immediately understood
the confusion.

‘It’s the suit, Philippe,’ he laughed. ‘I told you that you
looked like one of the restaurant managers in it.’

Holly could feel she was blushing again. That would explain
why he wasn’t wearing a little metal name badge. Why hadn’t she just asked him
what he did for a living rather than assuming he worked at the hotel just
because he was wearing a cream linen suit. Never assume anything, she mentally
admonished herself, it makes an ass out of u and me!

Thankfully Philippe had now joined in the laughter with
Robert and Rosemary.

‘Let me rephrase that,’ Holly said. ‘What do you do for a
living?’

Before Philippe could speak Rosemary said proudly, ‘He’s a
writer.’

Philippe quickly interrupted, placing his hand on Rosemary’s
arm to remind her of her promise. ‘I used to be a journalist, but now I’m
trying to write a book.’

‘Really? What is your book about?’ she asked.

Philippe had a mischievous look on his face as he answered,
‘It’s a travel guide about Mauritius. I’ve been living here for the past nine
months to really get a feel for the place.’

How weird that this man should be a travel writer too, thought
Holly, albeit he was writing a book and she wrote blogs.

‘Really? Well I’m going on a sightseeing trip of the island
on Friday. Perhaps you would like to come too and do some more research?’ she
teased, assuming that he had already traversed the island several times before
embarking on his travel guide.

‘I would like that very much,’ replied Philippe. ‘What time
shall we meet?’

Holly had inadvertently backed herself into a corner. As it
didn’t look as though Rosemary was going to come to her rescue this time she
simply said, ‘I’m being picked up at nine thirty from the hotel reception.’

‘Well, that’s a date then.’

Was it a date? thought Holly. What on earth am I doing? I’m
supposed to be working.

‘It’ll be good company for you, Holly,’ Rosemary chipped in.
‘Much better than going on your own.’

Holly knew she couldn’t really retract her offer and anyway
she might be able to pick up some useful information from the handsome
Frenchman. Besides, she quite liked the idea of spending a day in his company.

It had been a thoroughly enjoyable evening, Holly thought, as
she unlocked the door to her room having said goodbye to her dinner companions.
The food had been delicious and then the four of them had moved through to the
bar area to watch local dancers in colourful costumes performing their national
dances, accompanied by musicians beating out the rhythm on a ravanne, a
tambor-style drum.

When the show finished they went to sit on the comfy sofas
next to the beach, in close proximity to the bonfire that was lit every night
at dusk. Holly had seen them building the fires in a pyramid shape in specially
dug out pits each afternoon but this was the first opportunity she had to enjoy
one, and how nice to be sharing it with friends.

Friends, she mused. I’ve only known Robert and Rosemary for
two days and yet I feel like I’ve known them a lifetime.

And now she had met Philippe. Holly was no fool, she
realised that she had been set up. The invitation to dinner was deliberate so
that they could be introduced to each other but she didn’t care. He was
handsome and funny and she was flattered by the attention he paid her and his
obvious attraction towards her.

Philippe didn’t seem to want the evening to end and had
persuaded the others to join him for a nightcap by the beach. Robert and
Rosemary had sat on one sofa and she had sat next to Philippe on the other. By
this time he had removed his linen jacket and rolled his shirt sleeves up as
the night air was so warm. At one point they had both reached for their drinks
at the same time and their arms had touched, skin against skin. It was like an
electric shock running through her body as she had quickly withdrawn her arm
but not before realising that the attraction he felt for her was not one-sided.
She had coloured up again and she felt breathless and light-headed but not as a
result of alcohol. She had kept to her promise of just one glass of wine, and
her nightcap was fruit juice.

It had been a long time since Holly had allowed herself to
be attracted to a man, not that there had been much opportunity until she had
started her job writing secret travel blogs for the Soleil Hotel Group. Prior
to that she had worked mostly from home, apart from the two mornings a week
that she volunteered at the local charity shop while Harry was at school.

There hadn’t been much chance of meeting Mr Right there, she
thought wryly.

All the other volunteers had been at least twice her age and
predominantly female, apart from Bert, whose surname was ironically ‘Wright’,
but who was definitely not her type!

Do I have a type, she pondered?

There had only ever been Gareth. He was the only man she had
ever truly loved. Maybe that was all the attraction to Philippe was? A passing
similarity to the love of her life.

No, she thought, it’s more than that. There was definitely
chemistry. She had felt comfortable in his company, chatting about his writing
and his time in Mauritius. What a shame I’m only here for a week, she thought,
he is someone I would like to spend time with and get to know better.

She smiled at the pleasurable thought of having a whole day
with him on Friday on the sightseeing trip.

Holly had been expecting Philippe to ask what she was doing
in Mauritius on her own but he didn’t, so she presumed Robert and Rosemary had
filled him in on her tragic cover story, however he had asked whether she
worked. She had been expecting that question too so the lie came easily. She
didn’t mention her freelance copy-editing job, nor her incognito travel
blogging. Instead she said she worked for a charity, which was only a little
white lie.

Holly turned on her computer and logged into Wordpress. She
was relieved she had written her blog about the day prior to going for dinner.
Her head was full of thoughts about Philippe and she doubted she would have
been able to create the standard of work her readers were used to and that she
demanded of herself. She went on to her dashboard and clicked the publish
button.

The silvery moon was casting a broad sparkling path onto the
dark ocean. Philippe wondered why the path always seemed to lead to the person
looking at it. There was probably a very simple explanation but he didn’t have
a scientific brain. He was a wordsmith, although that was debatable at the
moment.

He loved the view from this window both day and night. It
was no wonder that his friends wanted to buy this house. He had been surprised
to learn, when they had dined together on Monday night, that they still hadn’t
reached a decision about buying it. At his question they had exchanged glances
and made the same vague excuse about things to sort out at home before quickly
changing the subject. He didn’t think they had money worries and he couldn’t
imagine what else might be holding them back from buying the home of their dreams.

The lights of torches twinkling in the shallow waters near
the shore caught his attention. When he had first come to stay at the house he
had thought that maybe it was some kind of smuggling operation, letting his
writer’s imagination run riot. When he mentioned his suspicions to Delphine,
the woman who came to clean for him once a week, she had started to laugh.

‘No no, Mr Philippe,’ she had said. ‘It is the local
fishermen looking for prawns’.

The next time she arrived to clean she brought him a child’s
plastic beach bucket filled to overflowing with prawn and other local
delicacies. Philippe was not a great cook, despite his French heritage, another
failure on the part of his mother, but he had made a very passable
bouillabaisse from a recipe he had found on the Internet.

This was the first of many deliveries of fresh fish and
although Delphine insisted she didn’t want any payment, Philippe always added a
few hundred rupees to her cleaning money envelope. She never made reference to
it and the additional rupees were worth their weight in gold for the local
information he was able to glean from Delphine. The best restaurants and bars
for a bit of local colour, help in buying his battered old car and even, on
occasion, a bit of adult company. Philippe didn’t like the idea of paying for
sex but he certainly didn’t want the complication of an affair, or worse still
falling in love, while he was trying to work on his book.

And now I fear it has happened, he thought, as he remembered
the electricity that had shot through him like a lightening bolt when he had
accidentally touched arms with Holly earlier that evening.

He had initially been annoyed with Rosemary for inviting
someone else to join them for dinner, but when he had turned and seen the
vision in yellow walking across the restaurant towards them he couldn’t believe
his luck. His heart had skipped a beat as she had held her hand out to shake
his and he instead had brushed the back of it with his lips. How he had wished
he was kissing her full pink lips instead but he was hopeful that would come.
He knew he had been very forward inviting himself on her sightseeing trip but
he hadn’t been able to stop himself. And she didn’t say no, he thought
triumphantly.

When he had arrived at the restaurant, ten minutes after the
designated time of 7.45 p.m., Rosemary had quickly filled him in on Holly’s
tragic recent history.

‘I want to make her happy again,’ Rosemary had said. ‘I want
to see her smile reach her beautiful eyes.’

Philippe pictured those dark olive eyes and he knew exactly
what Rosemary meant. There was an underlying sadness buried very deep and he
was determined to release her from it.