Paradise Found (7 page)

‘If you point me in the right direction, I'll go,' Zoe volunteered.

‘Will you, dear? That's very kind of you. In case Monique isn't about, you'd better take the hot water jug. Yvette is a charming girl, but she does sometimes get carried away, and her “leetle English” may not be up to it. I should explain that Monique is my treasure of a cook and housekeeper.'

‘Treasure!' Tony snorted contemptuously. ‘She and Pierre ought to have been pensioned off long ago.'

‘Lower your voice, Tony,' Hannah reproved sharply. ‘You'll get old yourself one day, if you live long enough.' Her tone softened as she turned to speak to Zoe. ‘Pierre is Monique's husband. He keeps the garden tidy and does odd jobs about the place. It's true that they're both past the age of retiring. And yes, perhaps they're not as quick as they used to be, but they are fiercely loyal to me. They've been with me for a long time. This is their home. I ask myself, where else would they go?'

Zoe felt that his grandmother had been right in rebuking Tony. As she went for the hot water, she wondered if Matt would decide to turn up. She would have offered to run the
errand
in any case to save Hannah's legs, but in truth she was glad of the excuse to escape for a few moments to cool her thoughts. Part of her hoped that Matt would come; the saner side of her viewed the possibility with dread.

After second cups of tea, or a third cup, in Hannah's case, Hannah showed them their rooms. Tony's was at the end of the ground floor, next to where Hannah herself slept.

As they left Tony there Hannah quipped, ‘You're on my team now, Tony.' Then she explained for Zoe's benefit. ‘I'm fantastic for my age, so I'm not complaining. I reckon that I'll see a few of the young ones off yet, but the old gray mare ain't what she used to be. I'm all right on the flat, but my knees creak on stairs.'

Despite her humor, it was no joke, and Zoe felt guilty at dragging her up the stairs to be shown her quarters. She told Hannah that it wasn't necessary and that she would be happy to let Yvette take her up. But Hannah was insistent that she not shirk her job as a hostess. Despite her easy friendship and casual manner in things like forms of address, she took her hostessing duties seriously. But Zoe didn't realize just how seriously until she saw the thought that had gone into the preparation of her
en suite
accommodation. The towels in the bathroom were soft apricot and pink, the soap and toiletries delicately perfumed for feminine use. In the bedroom there was a wide selection of reading matter that included both books
and
magazines in English. The most thoughtful touch of all was the tea and coffee making facilities, a tin of assorted biscuits, and a tiny refrigerator containing iced drinks and also the requirements for making a light snack.

‘You're welcome to make free use of the kitchen at any time of day or night, but I've found out from experience that guests don't always like to. While I'm about it, I don't want you to feel like a guest. You're almost family, and would have been if that idiot of a grandson of mine hadn't come a cropper. Did you blow your top?'

‘There wasn't much point.'

‘Really? With your color hair I wouldn't have thought you'd be able to help it, unless . . .'

‘What?'

‘Oh, nothing. Sometimes these old eyes of mine are a bit too shrewd for my own liking. Anyway, I'm glad that you're here. This is one misfortune, Miss Fortune, that has been in my favor. Sorry about the pun, I couldn't resist it.'

Zoe laughed along with her. ‘Not many people can. I've got used to it. The favorite one is about my face being my fortune. For obvious reasons, the one I dislike is fortune hunter.'

Hannah nodded. ‘You can't be called much of a fortune hunter in nailing Tony. Now if it were Matt! Even the combination of your names—Fortune and Hunter—points to it. I wonder what would have happened if Matt
had
seen you first,' she speculated.

He did and nothing happened, Zoe thought as she felt the color rising under her skin. She would have been open with Hannah, because Hannah was the sort of person who invited the truth, but for the fact that she still hadn't got round to telling Tony that she had once been friendly with his uncle. If only she'd told him at the beginning. It was the kind of confession that, the longer you put it off, the more difficult it got.

‘Zoe,' Hannah was saying. ‘Now that's a pretty name. It's the equivalent of Eve, which is the Greek word for life. You'll certainly add a bit of life to Les Charmettes.'

Zoe didn't miss the wry intonation. Hannah was quick. She knew she would have to be careful not to arouse the woman's suspicions, that is, if they weren't already aroused. ‘Thank you, Hannah.'

‘I wasn't being gracious. I meant it. As you see, Pierre has brought up your baggage. Do you want any help in unpacking? I could send Monique up, or better still, Yvette, who is nearer your age.'

‘Thanks, but no. I prefer to do it myself. I feel quite spoiled enough as it is with all this.' She waved her arms expansively.

‘I'm glad you like it.'

‘I couldn't help but like it.'

‘That's nice. I'll leave you to it, then. Come down when you're ready.'

With
that Hannah went. What a delightful person Matt's mother was. The thought brought a gentle sigh to Zoe's lips. It was relevant, and more than a little disturbing, that she thought of Hannah as Matt's mother and not her fiancé's grandmother.

There was an easy atmosphere at Les Charmettes, and Zoe fitted in as if she had always belonged. Hannah's select circle of friends made Zoe feel very welcome, and they liked her as much for herself as because she provided the diversion of a fresh face. Especially one so ‘young and pretty', to quote André Dupont, a widower who seemed to be one of Hannah's most frequent visitors and who was the grandfather of the Camille whom Nerissa had mentioned. André Dupont asked Zoe if she had met Camille and looked slightly surprised when she said no. ‘With any luck, Camille will pay me a visit while you are still here. If not, you must get Tony to introduce you two when you return to England.'

‘I will most certainly do that, monsieur,' Zoe had promised.

André Dupont was perhaps a couple of years older than Hannah. Had they been slightly younger, would a romance have blossomed between them? Zoe wondered.

When she mentioned as much to Tony, he looked dubious, but he didn't dismiss the notion out of hand. ‘They've always been friends, even when grandfather and Monsieur
Dupont's
wife were alive. I would have thought they were too devoted to the memory of their respective partners to consider remarrying, but you never know.'

‘What's Camille like?' Zoe inquired.

Tony sent her a sharp look. ‘What do you know about Camille?'

‘Only that she's Monsieur Dupont's granddaughter. He was telling me that she lived in England, and he thought you might have introduced us.'

‘Oh, I see.'

‘So tell me what she's like.'

‘Charming enough, I suppose,' he said, shrugging to convey indifference.

‘Attractive?' Zoe inquired.

‘M'mm. You could say she's attractive. Not jealous; are you, darling?'

‘Have I cause to be?'

‘No.'

‘Then why that look?'

‘What look?'

‘I don't quite know. Sheepish, I think.'

‘You're being too fanciful,' he declared loftily. ‘Matt's the one Camille has her eye on.'

Zoe wished she hadn't pursued that one quite so relentlessly.

* * *

The days passed, perfect days of blue skies and golden sunshine, and Zoe was no more
resolved
about her feelings than she had been the day she came to Les Charmettes. The deep affection she felt for Tony must surely be love? He didn't make her pulse pound as Matt had, but that wasn't love, that was animal passion. Someone ought to have thrown a bucket of water over them.

She thought back to her own parents. The affection they had shared seemed on a parallel with her feelings for Tony. On the surface they had seemed slightly indifferent to one another. Zoe couldn't remember ever seeing them hold hands or kiss impulsively. They had kissed almost as a duty every morning when her father left for work, and again when he came home each evening. Zoe had gone through a phase when she had thought they were only keeping a home going for her sake. At the time her best friend had been a girl called Sandra, whose parents had split up and were getting a divorce. Wide-eyed, Sandra had confided that her mother had gone to live with her lover. Zoe had thought her own parents were being selfless in staying together. She had romanticized it in her mind, finding it beautiful but tragic. Her mother had found her in tears once, and Zoe had explained, in her childish, halting way, that she didn't want to be the one to stand in the way of their happiness.

Her mother's eyes had filled with soft laughter. ‘Oh, Zoe, my poor innocent. It's like comparing the moon with a meteorite. The
moon
is always there, forever constant, just like the love your father and I have for one another. The brighter meteorite burns itself out, and that's what Sandra's mother's affair with this man will do, and she'll be all alone.'

In that Zoe's mother had been right. The lover had left Sandra's mother, but by that time Sandra's father had met someone else, a gentle, smiling woman who had made Sandra a good stepmother. There was no place in his life for his former wife, so Sandra's mother had been left all alone, just as Zoe's mother had predicted. Zoe's mother had endeavored to explain it more fully. ‘Your father and I have never had the bright and glittery kind of love, never been dazzled out of our senses, but that doesn't mean it isn't good. If I were to leave your father, he wouldn't last two months without me.' Her mother had been right again, her words painfully prophetic. Within two months of her mother's death, her father had gone to join her.

She must stamp Matt, and all that nonsense, out of her head. Let Camille have him.

In a quiet moment with Hannah, she couldn't help giving way to her curiosity. ‘Hannah?'

‘Yes, dear?'

‘Monsieur Dupont's granddaughter . . . the one he speaks of so often . . .'

‘Camille? What about her?'

‘Is anything going on between her and
Matt?'

‘That's something of a poser. It's always been André's dearest wish to unite our two families, and he has great respect for Matt. More to the point, Camille's always been wild about Matt. She's made no bones about that fact since she first started taking an interest in boys. Only . . . Matt isn't a boy . . . He's considerably older than Camille, which he might find a deterrent.'

‘I should have thought that Matt's disinterest in marriage would be more of a deterrent.'

Hannah scoffed. ‘That's a famous bachelor chant, until some enterprising female makes him swallow his words. But how did you know that about Matt?'

‘I guess I must have picked it up from Tony,' Zoe replied, hastily averting her eyes. Her brain drummed on the thought that Hannah had said that Camille had always been wild about Matt. She hadn't said anything about Matt being wild about Camille.

Zoe wasn't glued to Tony's side. She explored the old town of Les Pins and the surrounding countryside on her own. Hannah had a car in the garage, a dear and faithful friend, almost in the vintage class, but she said it needed looking at, otherwise she would have been pleased to let Zoe use it to travel further afield. Zoe thanked her for the kind thought but said she wouldn't have dared to take it out
in
any case. There wasn't a single scratch on its immaculate paintwork, and Zoe was perfectly content to accept the limits of her own legs. Several beaches within walking and busing distance beckoned tantalizingly, but Zoe resisted her preference for sunbathing within sight of the sea in order to keep Tony company, as she did one day, when they sat on adjacent loungers in Les Charmettes' small private garden.

‘What do you think of Nan?' Tony inquired. ‘You're not finding that she talks you to death?'

‘Oh, no! I think she's wonderful. She's fascinating to listen to, although . . .'

‘Yes?'

‘She's very blunt. I often go hot under the collar.'

‘I know the feeling all too well,' Tony said, with a dry laugh.

‘But she's such a darling, I could forgive her anything.' Zoe swung her legs over the side of the lounger and stood up, looking trim yet shapely in a black one-piece swimsuit which was cut high at the thighs to show off her slender and incredibly lovely legs. ‘Must make a move and get ready for dinner.'

At all other times the atmosphere was casual, but Hannah made a point of dressing for the evening meal. As she explained to Zoe, it was so easy to get sloppy and fall into bad habits when living alone. Zoe thought it was a
nice
custom and was glad that she had brought suitable coordinates and one long dress, at the same time realizing that she would have been pleased to ring the changes more often and wishing she'd brought more formal clothes with her.

‘Give me a kiss before you go,' Tony instructed.

She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. When he tried to pull her down beside him, she adeptly wriggled beyond his reach.

‘You haven't gone cold on me, have you?' he inquired suspiciously.

‘No, of course not.'

‘I'm going to want proof of that when I get rid of these damned crutches. It seems ages since I was really close to you.

‘You know I'm frightened of hurting your ribs.'

‘I know. It's just that you've got a fantastic figure. I've never seen as much of it before. I'm not talking about what I want to do here and now at this particular moment. I want to do more than kiss and hold you. We would have been married now, if—'