Not Quite Nice (24 page)

‘I have a little business this evening. I doubt I’ll be through before about ten.’

Theresa felt that she had been pushy, and regretted it. She’d forgotten all the rules of dating. It was like being a teenager again.

‘Another time,’ she said, and felt better for being more cool about it.

While they ate, Theresa and Brian talked about Bellevue-Sur-Mer and its inhabitants.

After a few words with Chloe, Brian lent her his phone so that she could look up the story of Catherine Ségurane.

‘Wow,’ she said after a few minutes. ‘Listen to this. To frighten away those invading armies, that woman we saw on the wall pulled up her clothes and bared her bottom at an army of men – and they all ran away.’

The three girls giggled wildly, and munched on.

‘We love France,’ said Lola.

The other two nodded firmly, their mouths too full to speak.

Once Imogen and the children had climbed into the taxi bound for the airport, Theresa felt empty and disillusioned. She pottered about, cleaning the kitchen tops, putting away her blow-up bed and changing the sheets in her own room.

Once it was made up, she flopped down on her bed, and lay gazing out of the window at the sheer wall of the Hôtel Astra. She could hear a couple up in the hotel room there chatting away. The well gave a strange echo today. It was like hearing voices from a television set next door. They were English, debating what to pack, and what to ditch.

She bent her head to look up to the light flooding out of their open window.

That really was some leap that Ted had made, to land on his feet, though naked as a jaybird, in her little yard. She hoped the girl had been worth it.

Imogen and the children must be touching down soon in London. She was glad to have at last found the grandchildren good company. They were, in fact, rather a delight. And now that Imogen had been hurt so badly she also seemed much kinder. Theresa wondered whether they would all come back, for the summer, perhaps, or Christmas.

It was too depressing lying there, fully dressed, alone. She got up and went out to walk along the seafront in the dark. She took a book, though really she hoped that maybe one of the gang might be already in the bar and she could sit up and chat with them for a while.

She pushed open the door. Sally was there, sitting in the corner, deep in conversation with Carol and Faith. Theresa was glad she wouldn’t have to sit alone with a drink like some desperate character in a Jean Rhys novel.

‘My son is arriving on a late plane tonight,’ said Faith, as Theresa pulled out a chair. ‘It was too nerve-racking just sitting waiting on my own. Then the girls walked past my house, heading down here, so I came out and joined them.’

‘My lot have just gone back to London,’ said Theresa, ‘so I was restless for the other reason.’

‘We all have our little burdens,’ said Faith. ‘But it’s nice to have some camaraderie, isn’t it?’

‘I’m an empty-nester too,’ said Sally. ‘Marianne left this morning.’

‘But you still have lovely Tom,’ said Theresa. ‘He’s a charming boy.’

‘Lovely Tom has gone off for a dirty weekend with Zoe,’ exclaimed Sally. ‘He phoned to tell me the gory details.’

‘Not the actual gory details I hope,’ said Carol, crossing herself.

‘Almost. I couldn’t listen.’

‘And those were his exact words,’ asked Carol. ‘A dirty weekend?’

‘A dirty weekend.’

Carol gave her familiar low laugh. ‘Oh, dear, Sally. I wouldn’t worry. As long as he doesn’t come back with a glassy smooth brow and a new pair of lips.’

‘Men are certainly strange creatures,’ said Faith.

‘Well, Zoe is also a pretty strange creature and my son is very impressionable.’ Sally knocked back the rest of her glass. ‘She must be about ninety-nine, for God’s sake.’

‘Not so much,’ said Faith. ‘I believe we are of an age.’

‘They’ve gone to St-Paul-de-Vence.’

‘Maybe they’re going to see the art?’ suggested Theresa.

Sally snorted. ‘That’s a new word for it.’

‘I’d say it gives us all hope, Sally.’ Carol picked up a cocktail stick and used it to stab an olive. ‘With that acid tongue, and a face that looks as though she got stuck in a wind tunnel, if Zoe can pull a handsome young blade, we might all still be in with a chance in the romance stakes. Look at us. We’re all stuck. Dinosaurs, rotting away in a lonely paradise.’

‘Oh, what are you on about, Carol? You’re all right.’ Sally put up her hand to call the waiter. ‘You have David. We’re the old maids.’

‘Hmmm,’ replied Carol. ‘Frankly, I feel done in, and in need of a change.’ Her phone, sitting on the table in front of her, buzzed – a text. She picked it up and looked at the small screen, then tapped in a few letters.

When Theresa tried to top up Faith’s glass she put her hand on top.

‘I’d better be getting back,’ she said. ‘Alfie will be arriving any minute, and I should be both present and sober when he turns up.’

Sally also rose from the table. ‘I’ll pay for everything so far, girls,’ she said. ‘But I’m turning in too. I’ll walk you back home, Faith.’

The two women left, leaving Theresa alone with Carol.

‘I’m ravenous,’ said Theresa. ‘Would you share a bowl of frites?’

Carol glanced at her watch.

‘I shouldn’t – the figure, you know.’ Carol took a deep breath. ‘But what the hell? I need a little comfort food.’

Soon after the waiter arrived bearing chips, the bar door opened and Brian stood on the threshold, beaming.

‘Ladies!’ he said. ‘What a lovely surprise. Had a little business in the area and thought I’d pop in on the off-chance, little thinking I would actually find my favourite two women in Bellevue-Sur-Mer, locked in a nocturnal tête-à-tête. What will you both be having?’

Theresa’s heart skipped a beat. Brian had come looking for her, after all!

She decided to throw caution to the winds and asked for another glass of rosé.

‘Did Theresa tell you about our glorious pique-nique today, Carol? We had a lovely time, didn’t we? Your grandchildren are enchanting. Rather like you. Did they all get off all right?’

Brian arranged the three glasses on the table and sat next to Theresa, facing Carol.

‘Husband still off, sulking?’ he asked. ‘It’s a madman who’d let
you
down,’ he said. ‘Cheers!’

Theresa loved the way Brian was always so gallant.

‘Sometimes things are meant,’ said Carol, her face resigned. ‘He misses America, I think. It was me who wanted to live in Europe. He’d prefer to be wandering round Greenwich Village eating bagels, not tucking into bowls of olives in our little French town. This row has stirred it all up again. Last night he threw down the gauntlet. He wants us to move back to the States.’

Theresa noticed that Carol was wearing the same red dress she had bought on the wet afternoon when she persuaded Theresa to buy the turquoise mac. Theresa did that, too, wore bright clothes to cheer herself up.

‘Why is life so complicated?’ said Carol quietly into her drink. ‘I was so happy here.’

No one could answer. There was a long silence.

‘Sounds like my business plans,’ said Brian, in a voice that was aimed at lightening the tone.

‘If only we could simply map out our future, like a train timetable,’ said Theresa. ‘It would be so much easier.’

‘I agree,’ said Carol with a doleful smile.

‘You’re both wrong,’ said Brian. ‘It’s allowing change in which makes life so wonderful. Look, you both took the plunge once before and came here.’

Carol shrugged.

‘Yeah. I suppose we did.’

‘It was very sudden and spur of the moment for me,’ said Theresa. ‘No one wanted me to. But the risk seemed worth it, in exchange for a clean slate.’

‘It’s kismet, you see.’ Brian looked Theresa in the eyes and said: ‘Sometimes something comes along, and you have to seize it, or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.’

Theresa tingled inside.

This was a proposition.

She was certain.

‘I see what you’re saying, Brian.’ Carol looked up from her drink and gave a weary smile. ‘There comes a day when you realise you’ve been so busy clinging to the life raft that you missed the passing ship. So where are the flares? I’m looking to get picked up by that ship.’ She gulped down the last of the wine in her glass and stood up. ‘Anyhow, I’m bushed. I’m going to turn in.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Brian. ‘It is late.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I might just make the train back to Nice.’

He helped Theresa into her jacket, then stuck out his elbow. ‘Allow me to walk you to your door, madam.’

Carol gave them a little wink and a wave as they went their different directions.

Brian took Theresa to her front door and waited for her to open it.

Her heart beat as she stepped across the threshold and he followed.

Before she had a chance to flick the light switch, his lips were on hers. It was the briefest of kisses, but it was a kiss! Theresa felt like a teenager again.

‘Goodnight then, Theresa. Don’t want to miss that train,’ he said, pulling the door shut after him as he left.

She heard his footsteps running away.

What a turn up!

She lay on the bed fully clothed, staring up the blank wall of the Hôtel Astra, wondering what would happen next.

Within minutes she was asleep.

After leaving the bar, Sally and Faith meanwhile had had a much more eventful half an hour than they would have wished.

When they arrived at Faith’s house, Sally could see that the house was dark but the front door was ajar.

Faith stepped forward to go inside.

‘Wait!’ Sally commanded, pulling Faith back from entering. ‘They may still be in there. Does Alfie have a key?’

Faith shook her head. ‘Maybe I didn’t shut it properly,’ Faith suggested.

‘It’s not worth the risk, Faith.’ Sally dialled the gendarmerie to report a burglary.

Meanwhile they both sat on the wall opposite Faith’s home, looking at the windows for signs of movement.

The police arrived remarkably quickly.

‘Second one tonight, third one just reported,’ said the sergeant. ‘Whoever they are, they’ve been busy.’

Holding torches, the gendarmes swept into the house and a few minutes later were back at the front door.

‘No one inside,’ said the sergeant. ‘But they’ve left quite a mess. Change the lock in the morning.’ He tore a piece of paper from his notebook and scribbled on it. ‘Here’s the form for your insurance.’

Minutes later they were gone, bar one officer who was taking fingerprints, leaving Sally and Faith in his wake picking through the emptied drawers and re­arranging the upturned furniture.

‘What a scene for Alfie to arrive to,’ said Faith. ‘I wanted it to be so nice for him.’

‘We should be making a list of what’s gone, Faith. Alfie will understand.’

The two women started downstairs, Sally writing while Faith called out the missing items.

It was a shambles. The obvious things – the radio, the television – were gone. Drawers emptied and pulled out, the contents spewed across the floor.

Upstairs things were not so bad.

‘They were interrupted,’ said the officer pointing towards a laptop computer on the dressing table in Faith’s bedroom. ‘Otherwise that wouldn’t still be here. Or that.’

He pointed to a boxed smartphone, the latest model, unopened.

‘It’s a present for my son,’ said Faith. ‘It was something he said he needed the money for.’

A loud rap on the front door silenced them.

‘That will be him,’ said Faith, slipping the phone into a drawer.

The police officer led the way downstairs.

He stood behind Faith while she opened the door.

It was Alfie.

‘I came here about an hour ago,’ he said to his mother, with a smile. ‘But you were out. I got an earlier flight.’ He then saw the gendarme. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Your mother was burgled this evening,’ said Sally.

‘When you were here before,’ asked the policeman, ‘did you see anything?’

Alfie shook his head. ‘The house was dark and silent. Nothing unusual at all. Except that my mother wasn’t inside.’

‘If I’d known you were going to be early,’ said Faith. ‘I would have been here.’

‘If this was happening when I was outside I’m very glad you weren’t here,’ said Alfie. ‘It could have been serious.’

After the gendarme left, Sally made tea for Faith and Alfie, then left, turning down the hill towards her own place.

Sally was thinking about Tom and Zoe, and cocky little Alfie, and how there was no predicting how your children turned out or what they would want in life, when she saw the detectives again. They were all gathered outside the house next door to hers. This place must have been the thieves’ third outing of the night.