Rendezvous in Cannes (7 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Anna dressed carefully for her lunch appointment with Bruno, and was ready and waiting when the taxi arrived. Fighting a sudden inclination to tell the driver to go away, she’d changed her mind and didn’t need a taxi, she climbed into the back and hoped he knew where The Auberge was.

The streets were busy with the midday rush hour traffic and Anna was five minutes late arriving at the restaurant in a quiet back street. The maitre d’hôtel came forward to greet her as the doorman ushered her in.

‘Mon ami, Monsieur ...’ she started to say before realising she didn’t remember Bruno’s last name.

Anna hesitated, looking around her hoping to spot Bruno.

The maitre d’ glanced at a list of reservations, ‘Madame Carson?’

When Anna nodded, he said, ‘This way, s’il vous plaît,’ and he led Anna through the full restaurant out into a wisteria covered courtyard where Bruno was waiting for her at a secluded table in the corner.

‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ Anna apologised. ‘I’d forgotten how busy the traffic is at this time of day.’

‘I was afraid you’d decided against coming,’ Bruno said.

‘I almost did,’ Anna confessed. ‘I don’t normally accept lunch invitations from,’ she hesitated. ‘Strangers.’

‘But I’m not a complete stranger,’ Bruno said. ‘I think you’ll find I’m an old acquaintance you lost touch with. Shall we order?’

Anna took the menu from the waiter. ‘I’m not really hungry. I’ll just have a salad.’ She glanced sharply at Bruno, who sighed.

‘Anna, this is one of the finest restaurants in town, it would be a crime not to enjoy your meal here. So order something you like then, if we fall out and never speak to each other again, at least you will have had an enjoyable meal to remember.’

In spite of herself Anna smiled. ‘Okay. Do you recommend anything in particular?’

‘For starters I’m going to have roasted figs with goat’s cheese, followed by the sea bass baked in a salt crust. If I’ve got any room left I shall then indulge in the chef’s splendid chocolate truffle cake.’

‘Sounds delicious – I’ll have the same,’ Anna said.

‘In which case I’ll order us a bottle of white wine,’ Bruno said. As the wine waiter uncorked Bruno’s choice and offered it for his inspection, Anna studied Bruno. Was he really the person she’d known as Brian? Watching him as he lifted the glass to his lips to taste the wine, she noticed the middle finger of his left hand was a deformed stump. The confirmation she needed.

Bruno nodded at the wine waiter, waited as he filled both glasses before raising his and saying softly, ‘Here’s to Philippe. Rest in peace.’

Silently Anna held her glass aloft in acknowledgement and took a sip, before saying quietly, ‘You’re Brian, aren’t you?’

He nodded.

‘So you know who I am?’ she said putting her glass on the table.

‘Yes. The love of Philippe’s life.’

‘I’m surprised you recognised me after all these years.’

‘I didn’t totally at first,’ Bruno said. ‘There was just something about your face that seemed hauntingly familiar. It wasn’t until a photographer friend last evening told me he’d seen you placing a flower in tribute to Philippe, that the truth dawned on me.’

He glanced at her. ‘I’d seen the message, One Life. One Love, with the flower and knew you’d finally returned – albeit too late for Philippe to know.’

He regarded her over the rim of his glass and took a sip before saying, ‘But then you ran away again before I could talk to you.’

Bruno took another photo out of his wallet.

‘You and Philippe only had eyes for each other back then but this is one of the three of us,’ and he handed Anna the photograph.

‘Oh I remember when this was taken,’ Anna exclaimed. ‘You had a questionable taste in fluorescent pink socks and trainers in those days,’ she laughed.

‘Guilty as charged.’ Bruno stuck an elegantly shod foot out for her inspection. ‘The name and the socks went a long time ago. Look, my taste is all grown up sophistication now.’

Anna laughed. ‘I can see that.’

‘Philippe’s taste didn’t change over the years. He always had very grown up tastes,’ Bruno said, a serious look on his face. ‘He always knew what he wanted. You broke his heart, you know,’ he added, looking at her.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ Anna said softly, ‘Mine was also fractured irreparably too at the time.’

‘Why didn’t you return later that summer like you said you would?’

Anna bit her lip. ‘I wrote Philippe a letter explaining but he never replied to it, so I assumed he’d changed his mind.’

‘Wrong,’ Bruno said. ‘He did answer it. I know because I posted it for him. But it was returned marked “unknown at this address”, six weeks later.’

‘He came to England that year too,’ Bruno continued quietly. ‘Didn’t your parents tell you he visited, pleading with them to tell him where you were? They were apparently less than friendly.’

Anna gazed at him, appalled. ‘They never told me.’

She was silent for several seconds before saying, ‘I’m afraid I was a big disappointment to them – they disowned me in the end.’

‘Philippe would never have disowned you. He never forgot you. Oh, he had relationships down the years – he was only human. But nothing serious. No one ever got as close to him as you. He tried to find you for years. I can’t believe you work in the film business and your paths never crossed again,’ Bruno said shaking his head in disbelief.

‘That was a deliberate ploy on my part,’ Anna said softly. ‘Philippe worked increasingly in the States and I made sure I stayed very firmly this side of the pond, in a part of the industry far removed from his, and,’ Anna hesitated before looking at Bruno and saying, ‘Let’s just say I took a couple of extra precautions to make sure I remained incognito. And out of sight of the man who I thought had rejected me.’

‘Did you ever marry? Have a family? Meet another special person?’ Bruno asked gently.

Anna shook her head. ‘No. I’ve never married. But I’ve recently met a man who makes me happy like Philippe did all those years ago.’

She twirled the wine in her glass before saying reflectively.

‘I’ve spent my whole adult life regretting my teenage love. It’s so cruel that the year I decide to come back to Cannes and make my peace with Philippe, it’s too late to talk to him.’ She swallowed hard, knowing that once again tears were perilously close.

Bruno handed her a napkin as she fought to control the tears from falling.

‘I did love him you know, totally,’ she said. ‘I would have done anything he asked me to do.’

‘I believe you,’ Bruno said quietly.

Anna jumped as her mobile phone rang in the silence that followed his words.

‘Excuse me,’ she said, pressing the answer button. ‘Leo, darling. Everything all right?’

‘My flight was early. I’m about ten minutes away from the villa – are you there?’

‘No. I’m in Cannes having lunch with ... with an old friend,’ Anna said, smiling at Bruno. ‘I’ll meet you at the villa in about a quarter of an hour.’

Switching her phone off Anna turned to Bruno.

‘I’m so sorry but I have to go. Listen, why don’t you come to the party I’m giving on Tuesday night? Bring a guest if you like. I’ll get Rick to send you an invite, shall I? We can finish our talk then. Thank you for a lovely lunch,’ and Anna stood up to go.

‘I’m sorry you have to rush off,’ Bruno said also standing up. ‘We still have a lot of catching up to do. But yes, I would like to come to your party next week.’

‘Good,’ Anna said. ‘I look forward to introducing you to Leo.’

A serious look crossed Bruno’s face as he studied her before saying, ‘Anna before you go, was there something in particular you were hoping to talk to Philippe about? Or was it just a question of ending a forty year silence?’

Anna hesitated, torn between telling Bruno the truth now and wanting to tell Leo first.

Bruno, sensing her hesitation stretched his hand out to hold and squeeze Anna’s hand in a conciliatory gesture.

‘Whatever, I feel I must warn you about something that is likely to come to a head in the next few days.’

Anna looked at him and waited for him to continue.

‘The Cambone family are investigating a couple of letters that Philippe received in the weeks before he died. Letters relating to the Cambone family tree. Apparently the person who wrote them is here in Cannes for the festival and has asked to meet with Jacques urgently.’

As Anna stared at him, Bruno continued. ‘It seems Philippe’s integrity and legacy are about to be questioned.’

Chapter Seventeen

‘Right I’m off,’ Daisy said. ‘Not sure what time I’ll be back, so don’t wait up.’

‘Not wearing jeans tonight then?’ Poppy said. ‘That dress suits you, by the way.’

Daisy looked down at herself self-consciously and shrugged.

‘Fancied a change. Oh, Leo’s coming over,’ Daisy said, looking past her sister towards the villa garden.

Poppy turned. ‘Oh dear, I hope nothing is wrong,’ she added anxiously, moving towards the kitchen door to greet Leo.

‘Sorry to disturb you, Poppy, Daisy,’ Leo said. ‘I was wondering if you had an ice bucket? I’ve bought some champagne for this evening and need something to keep it cool on the table.’

‘Sure,’ Poppy answered, taking a silver ice bucket from one of the cupboards and handing it to Leo.

‘Would you like some extra ice as well?’

Leo shook his head. ‘No. Thanks for this,’ and he turned to go back to the villa.

‘Wonder if he’s planning to celebrate something in particular,’ Daisy said.

‘Probably just celebrating being together down here,’ Poppy answered. ‘You’ll be late for the stars arriving at the screening if you don’t get going. Enjoy the film with Nat.’

As usual Cannes port was busy and Daisy had to dodge the crowds as she made her way to the front of the Palais des Festivals to watch the stars arriving for the evening screening.

A friendly policeman let her squeeze through the barrier when she showed him her press pass and she stood on her tiptoes in the middle of the Croisette, trying to see over the crowds and record her impressions.

The usual herd of paparazzi were busy snapping away, strident voices urging the stars to, ‘Look this way. Turn your head, love. Stand still,’ while the precious jewels they wore dazzled under the barrage of flashlights that sought to capture every detail.

The film showing that evening was a popular ‘boy’s own adventure’ and the appearance of the ruggedly handsome male star was greeted with delight by the crowd. Mentally Daisy made a note of his co-star’s glamorous evening gown – an off-the-shoulder white affair with a sequinned bodice that clung to her body – and the stunning ruby necklace she was wearing.

As the stars made their way slowly up the red carpet towards the entrance, Daisy scrutinised the paparazzi for a glimpse of Marcus but couldn’t see him.

A limousine, the French flag flying on the bonnet, drew up at the foot of the steps, discharging a government minister and his wife in whom nobody was really interested; their progress up the steps, flanked by security men, was quick and over in minutes.

Guessing that all the ‘A list’ celebrities were now in the Palais waiting for the screening to begin, Daisy began to make her way towards the beach cinema and Nat.

A happy party atmosphere pervaded the length of the Croisette as the lights began to shine in the twilight; entertainers were still juggling and singing to the crowds.

Nat was waiting for her by the entrance to the beach cinema, a small black rucksack on his back.

‘Hi. Sorry if I’m late,’ Daisy said. ‘I had to do some star watching for my next report.’

‘No problem,’ Nat said, kissing her on the cheek. A kiss that was somehow totally different from the ones that Marcus had been insisting on giving her. ‘Let’s find somewhere to sit,’ and taking her by the hand, he lead the way down on to the beach.

As they settled themselves down, Daisy glanced at Nat. ‘You OK? You seem a bit quiet tonight.’

‘Sorry,’ Nat apologised. ‘I’m fine. It’s just,’ he hesitated. ‘Have you seen Marcus today?’

‘No. Why? Is something wrong with him? He wasn’t outside the Palais earlier.’

‘No, I don’t think there’s anything wrong.’ Nat hastened to reassure her. ‘It’s just that ...’

Nat looked at Daisy seriously before asking, ‘Are you two an item away from work?’ He paused before continuing, ‘I really like you Daisy and want to get to know you better but I don’t want to butt in if you’re in a relationship. I’m kind of old-fashioned like that.’

Daisy smiled and shook her head as Nat looked at her anxiously. So he had got the wrong idea from all those French style cheek kisses he’d witnessed Marcus giving her.

‘Nat – Marcus and I are work colleagues, that’s all. We’ve never been out on a proper date together.’

‘You sure?’

Daisy nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Only, I saw Marcus earlier, by the way. Getting up close and personal with one of the stylists working for Dior. They’re having dinner together tonight at the Palm Beach.’

Daisy shrugged. ‘Nat, I really couldn’t care less what Marcus gets up to – or who he sleeps with.’

Should she tell Nat about Ben and Australia? Not tonight, she decided. It was too soon. When she knew him better. Besides Ben was too far away to worry about.

Nat took her hand. ‘Good. You’re looking beautiful tonight by the way.’

‘Thank you,’ Daisy said smiling. ‘Any news on your script?’

Nat shook his head. ‘Not yet. Teddy Wickham has been too busy to do anything yet but keeps promising he will when he gets “a window in his schedule” sometime next week.’ Nat shrugged resignedly. ‘In the meantime, I’m trying to make a few contacts of my own.’

‘Hey, want to come to Anna’s party next week? I’m sure I can get you an invite and she’s on the production side of things so who knows who might be there. It’s Tuesday night. Can you get the evening off?’

‘Not a problem. I can always bribe Jasmine the housekeeper with a box of chocolates to babysit that evening,’ Nat said. ‘You sure Anna won’t mind?’

‘Certain,’ Daisy said. ‘I’ll check with her tomorrow and let you know. Can I ask you a personal question?’

‘Yes.’

‘How did you become a nanny? I know these days anyone can do anything they want but you must admit it’s still quite unusual to find male nannies.’

‘Well firstly, I’m not just a nanny. I’m a Montessori trained nursery teacher. I knew I’d have to do something to earn a living while I tried to sell my scripts and I love kids – particularly three to seven year olds, they’re fun to be around. Before you ask, the job with the Wickhams for the festival came about via a friend of a friend. Normally I freelance through an agency. Leaves me time to write in between jobs.

‘Right, now we’ve cleared that up, I’ve got a bottle of champagne in here,’ Nat said opening the rucksack and taking a bottle and two glasses out.

‘Do you know what the classic film is tonight?’ she asked, holding the glasses while Nat skilfully opened the champagne.

‘Well, it’s not Tom and Jerry, that’s for sure. It’s Dirty Harry – if you don’t like gangster films we don’t have to stay.’ Nat glanced at her.

‘We can always leave and find a quiet spot to drink this and just watch the sea.’

‘What, and miss Clint Eastwood uttering those immortal words: ‘Make my day’?’ Daisy laughed. ‘He’s here at the festival this year, isn’t he?’

Nat nodded. ‘Yes, he’s got a film showing and he’s ...’ Nat’s voice trailed away as he looked beyond Daisy. ‘He’s actually walking towards the screen. He’s going to make a speech about the film by the look of things.’

They both listened as Clint talked about his 1971 film. His remark, ‘If you have trouble recognising me, I’m the one with the brown hair and lots of it,’ said with a self-deprecating smile, delighted the crowd and earned him a round of applause as the film began and he left.

Sitting on the beach next to Nat, Daisy found it hard to concentrate on the film. If she were honest Dirty Harry wasn’t really her kind of film – she was more a Sleepless in Seattle type of girl. Sitting companionably at Nat’s side, she let not only the rolling sound of the Mediterranean as it lapped at the beach, wash over her, but also much of the film’s dialogue and action as she thought about the future and Ben’s letter.

Thinking he’d made a mistake wasn’t the same as knowing and regretting, was it? He hadn’t mentioned loving her in the letter, just that he was missing her. And did he seriously expect her to go halfway around the world on a whim of his? Probably, she decided. Ben had always been the one to decide what they would do as a couple and she’d tended to follow meekly in his wake.

She’d quite enjoyed her independence of the last few months – particularly once she’d got over the shock of Ben dumping her and re-discovered some of her own dreams. So much had been pushed to one side while she was with Ben.

Like going freelance. ‘No security in being a freelance,’ Ben had said. ‘We both need a regular monthly cheque.’

Now she was alone, was she brave enough to go freelance? Unlike Nat she didn’t have any other training to fall back on. She did have some savings though. Enough to live on for at least six months, she reckoned, if the freelance work didn’t take off straight away.

When the cooling night air made her shiver and Nat placed an arm protectively around her shoulders, she snuggled in against him. Right now she realised, she was happier than she’d been in years. She didn’t need Ben in her life.

As the credits rolled Nat asked, ‘Taxi or shall we walk back?’

‘Let’s walk along the bord de mer,’ Daisy answered. ‘It’s such a lovely evening.’

Late though it was, the restaurants along the bord de mer were still busy – there were even a few brave souls going for a late night dip. Strolling along with her arm around Nat’s waist and his arm around her shoulders felt comfortable and natural. As did the goodnight kiss he gave her as he left her at the villa door. A delicious tingling feeling flooded through her body.

‘Goodnight Daisy. See you tomorrow. Thank you for a lovely evening.’

As Daisy watched him go with a smile on her face, she realised with that kiss, Nat had just ‘made her day’.