Not Quite Nice (20 page)

Marianne had given Sally her news in the taxi back from town.

As they walked through the marketplace in Nice, Sally had been told, in no uncertain terms, that nothing on earth would persuade Marianne to climb back on the boat ‘with that bunch of imbeciles’, so Sally left Ted to take everyone else back on his own. Sally hoped they’d be all right, as Ted was rather cavalier about checking the charts and screens for depth and hidden obstacles, although he did know a fair amount about the finer technical points of engine maintenance.

‘You could always have the reception at my house in Bellevue-Sur-Mer,’ Sally had suggested to an icy reception from her daughter.

‘I want somewhere with a five-star reputation,’ replied Marianne. ‘This is going to be a special day. Let’s face it, I could come to your place any time I wanted.’

‘Where will everyone stay?’ asked Sally. ‘Hôtel Astra?’

Marianne looked Sally in the eye. After the smallest hesitation she said: ‘That dump? Are you joking?’

Crushed, Sally took out her local guidebooks and placed them in a pile.

‘It’s not that bad,’ she said.

‘It’s creepy,’ said Marianne.

‘If you’ve never stayed there how would you know?’

‘Everyone knows.’

Sally gritted her teeth. ‘If you say so.’

She decided to stop coming up with ideas and just be happy that her daughter had decided to have the wedding nearby, rather than in London. So she sat at the kitchen table with a notepad and a map, preparing to note down all the nearby posh restaurants and potential wedding venues from the fancy guidebook Marianne had bought, while Marianne herself sat in the corner reading a brochure she had picked up from a five-star hotel in St-Jean-Cap-Ferrat.

‘Will my hippy brother be here for ever?’ Marianne asked. ‘Or could you encourage him to go on his travels again . . .’

Sally was stabbed to the heart by this. She had only just got Tom back. How could she send him pack­­­ing just because Marianne wanted him out of the way?

‘If you don’t want him here, Marianne, I’m sure Tom will be happy to go out for the day.’

‘Aren’t you friends with Sian Kelly?’ asked Marianne out of the blue.

‘Yes,’ said Sally. ‘And Ted.’

‘Good.’

‘OK,’ said Sally, smelling fear. ‘Is there any particular reason you ask?’

‘What’s the time?’ Marianne glanced at her watch. ‘I forgot to change regions. Are you an hour forward or back?’

Sally saw the avoidance technique, which made her all the more worried about everything to do with this potential wedding and especially the groom. Why wouldn’t she talk about him? Why had Marianne not even proffered a photograph? Was he very old, very ugly, a jailbird . . . what was wrong with him, that Marianne chose to avoid the subject?

‘Is he handsome?’ asked Sally. ‘Tall? Clever? Don’t you have a photo?’

Marianne shook her watch at Sally, who timidly said ‘Forward an hour.’

‘What’s
she
like?’

Sally was taken aback for a moment, then realised that Marianne was harking back to her neighbour, Sian.

‘Sian is very nice,’ she said, despite the niggles in her head. Her conscience prickled too, because Sally disapproved of the way Sian had set up that girl as a spy on poor Ted.

‘That’s not the impression I got from the others in town. Among other things, they called her a dragon.’

‘She’s very protective of Ted. Overprotective really. It’s her big weakness. Apparently she’s set up some girl to report back on her husband’s behaviour in her own absence.’

Marianne smiled. ‘I’d heard.’ Marianne laid down her brochure. ‘You know what’s really odd, Mum? Sian Kelly runs one of the most prestigious businesses in Britain. And yet she is married to her own Achilles heel. Now there’s irony for you.’

Sally knew that often marriages didn’t work. Husbands and wives lied to one another. Husbands and wives strayed. I mean . . . she had the evidence of her own failed marriage to go by, and yet, somehow it seemed to Sally quite immoral, and at the same time pointless, that Sian had gone to these lengths. But she was puzzled about why any of this would matter to Marianne.

‘So why, all of a sudden, are you so interested in Sian and her husband?’

‘Because, Mama, Sian Kelly is one of the UK’s top businesswomen.’ Marianne picked up a pencil and started doodling. ‘And then, one day soon, you watch me – I’m going to have a business empire even more successful than hers.’

Sally gulped.

After Carol had driven Theresa back to Bellevue-Sur-Mer, with William in the back seat, they stood on the quay and watched Faith and Zoe getting off the boat.

Zoe gave an expansive wave. ‘What a marvellous day. Hey, you three!’ she called to them. ‘Come on. Let’s get drunk and disorderly.’

As they reached the harbourside terrace bar– brasserie, Zoe plonked herself at a sunny table.

Faith stayed standing and said: ‘It’s been a gorgeous day, Zoe, but a bit too exhilarating. I really should take a little nap.’

‘Sleep?’ Zoe screeched. ‘We’ve got eternity to sleep, woman. Come on.’

Faith sat, taking a seat next to Carol, while Zoe ordered a bottle and six glasses.

‘How did David do?’ asked Carol. ‘Did Ted let him have a go?’

‘The men had a great time. They’re going out again. Look!’ Zoe shaded her eyes and pointed in the direction of the boat, which was already pulling out into the choppy waters of the bay with David and Tom standing near Ted in the wheelhouse. ‘Those men and their machines.’

‘They’re all still boys at heart,’ said Faith.

‘Except my husband,’ added Carol. ‘Apparently he’s a puppy dog.’

‘He
is
rather cuddly,’ said Faith, not picking up Carol’s irony. ‘I suppose they want to enjoy a bit of speed without us old ladies on board.’

‘They had speed enough on the way out, didn’t they?’ asked William.

‘Not as much as we’d all have liked,’ said Zoe. ‘Too many dramas.’

‘Dramas?’ William leaned in.

‘Jessica wasn’t too bright on the way out. I suppose you either have sea legs or you don’t.’ Faith grimaced. ‘She seemed upset. I think the real problem was something that Sally said to her.’

‘Sally?’ William was perplexed. ‘What did she do wrong?’

‘It was odd,’ said Faith. ‘The boat hit some wash and lurched, and Jessica sort of clung on to Ted, and when she recovered her equilibrium, Sally said something that had a huge impact on her.’

‘Don’t leave us on tenterhooks, Faith,’ said Carol. ‘Spill!’

‘It was something like: “I know what you’re up to and who you really are.” Then Jessica hesitated, as though she was going to make an announcement, but instead smiled, and took a few steps away, then turned back and shot her
such
a look.’

William leaned in. ‘What kind of look?’

‘It was a mix of being scared and being full of spite. She kind of shrank and grew at the same time. Very strange. Then she moved to the back of the boat, sat looking out at the sea with tightly pursed lips and refused to communicate with anyone till we got off. But she had an air of malevolence about her. No one dared go near.’

‘Does anyone know where she is now?’ asked William.

‘Are we talking about that ghastly blonde bint who’s always making dewy eyes at Ted?’ Zoe, who been gazing out to sea, suddenly decided to rejoin the conversation. ‘I last saw her down near the port, when we pulled in so that the blokes could pick up a few bottles. Face like fury, waiting at the bus stop, gabbling into her mobile phone. I pity the poor person on the other end of the line.’

Theresa, William and Carol all caught eyes. They each knew it had to be Sian on the receiving end. Her own silly plan to set up Jessica as a bait-cum-spy on Ted had obviously backfired.

The worm had turned.

Before they could continue a shadow loomed over Theresa’s shoulder.

She turned to see Brian, blocking out the sunlight.

‘Sorry if I startled you, Theresa, but I appear to have left my passport at your place. Silly me! It must have slid under the bed in my room or somewhere.’

Theresa took him along the road to her flat and she was surprised to find that Imogen and the kids weren’t there. Theresa took the moment to use the lavatory while Brian disappeared into his old bedroom looking for the passport.

When she came back into the living room Brian emerged from Imogen’s room, waving his passport in the air.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Theresa. ‘Now, Brian, promise me you won’t vanish away out of my life, just because my family turned up.’ Theresa opened the front door and they both stood on the step looking out at the seafront. ‘We must keep in contact. Do you have a number or address, so I can invite you over sometime?’

‘Don’t worry.’ Brian smiled. ‘I’ll still be coming over for the weekly Cookery Club. Look!’ He pointed towards the beach. ‘Your daughter and the children appear to be enjoying themselves.’

Theresa had to blink to believe her eyes.

Imogen was happily sitting on the sands under a little parasol, which she must have bought at the local shop. At her side the kids were engrossed, earnestly making sandcastles.

Theresa gave a wave, hoping that someone would notice.

Chloe looked up and gave her a huge grin and a wave back.

‘Come and have a drink with the gang, Brian,’ suggested Theresa.

‘I only have enough time for a quick one. I need to dash up to the station,’ said Brian. ‘Got an appointment with the lawyers – hence the need for my passport.’

Theresa and Brian went back to the brasserie and sat at the end beside William.

Brian waved gaily at everyone and ordered a couple of bottles of wine for the table. He drank half a glass then excused himself.

‘I’ll just use the gents, then I’ll slip off,’ he whispered into Theresa’s ear.

Theresa watched him go inside. He certainly was a fine figure of a man, with a broad back. As he vanished into the shadows she turned and whispered into William’s ear. ‘I saw something today and I’m torn as to whether or not to tell you about it.’

‘Now that you’ve said that, of course, Theresa, you know you
have
to tell me.’

‘In the Old Town at Nice . . . I saw the man who robbed me.’

William drew back to look more closely at Theresa’s face. ‘What’s that got to do with me?’

‘I . . . er . . . well, I have some information about Benjamin.’

‘Yes?’ William’s eyes were slits. He barely moved a feature. ‘Like what?’

‘It may mean more or less to you, and I don’t want to stir up trouble, but I saw Benjamin too. In the same place.’

‘In the same place as what?’

‘As the man who robbed me.’

The two turned their seats slightly out of the circle as Theresa explained how she had seen the man who had robbed her, and then seen Benjamin coming along for an apparent liaison with him. What she really wanted, she explained, was to track that thief down and put the police on to him. Maybe Benjamin could help her?

William’s lips tightened. He didn’t say a word. His breathing became shallow and tight. Then suddenly he banged his fist on the table, causing everyone’s glasses to rattle.

‘Fuck it!’ he said under his breath, as he flung a euro bill on to the table and stood up.

‘What’s happening today? Why is everyone behaving like a prima donna?’ Carol reached out to William, who roughly pushed her hand away and stalked off. She turned and spun back to Theresa. ‘What on earth did you say, Theresa? My God, he’s gone off like a volcano.’

‘I told him I’d seen Benjamin in the alleys of Old Town, talking to the man who robbed me.’

A loaded silence reigned at the table until Zoe broke it.

‘Well done, Theresa, darling,’ she said, with a kittenish smile.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Theresa. ‘I only thought I was giving William a warning, and rather hoped that Benjamin could lead me to help get that thief taken off the streets.’

‘Oh, you stirred up a little more than that, my dear. Now all I can say is: “You lit the blue touch paper, now let’s all stand well back.”’

As a shadow had fallen over the proceedings, which appeared to be her fault, Theresa felt awful. She waved to the waiter to get the bill. It would cost a packet, but the least she could do was pay for everyone’s drinks and hope everything would lighten up a bit.

The waiter arrived and told Theresa that there was nothing to pay. The tall gentleman with grey hair had already paid.

Brian!

How sweet, thought Theresa. He didn’t even really have a drink, yet bought for the whole table.

18

It seemed that everything always arrived in packs, just like they said of London buses. After years here on her own, Sally now had both Marianne and Tom staying, and soon possibly she would have another visitor: Marianne’s mystery beau.

Marianne had supper with her mother and then, despite much protesting from Sally, ordered a taxi to take her to her hotel a few miles away somewhere just outside Beaulieu. She wanted to see whether it was as pleasant as it seemed in the brochure. ‘These things lie,’ she said.