Rendezvous in Cannes (10 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

‘Look what I’ve got for us,’ Daisy said, emptying a carrier bag on to the kitchen table in front of Poppy. ‘I had a quick mooch around the shops after I left Anna and Leo this morning. See what I found for us to wear tomorrow evening.’

‘So what d’you think?’ she said, slipping a velvet and pearl headband around her head. ‘Very 1920s don’t you think? I thought you’d look great in this hanky-hem dress,’ she said, shaking it out and handing it to Poppy.

‘I offered to buy Anna and Leo lunch but they said they had some shopping to do and then planned a sandwich lunch,’ Daisy said, glancing out across the garden towards the villa. ‘Are they back yet?’

‘About half an hour ago. Anna went straight indoors and Leo is down by the pool sunbathing,’ Poppy answered, holding the dress against herself. ‘This is so pretty, thank you. Did Anna remember anything useful?’

Daisy nodded. ‘Enough, but it came to an abrupt end shortly after we saw the funeral cortège for Philippe Cambone. Anna couldn’t seem to concentrate after that.’

Daisy slipped a black beaded jacket over her shoulders. ‘I love this.’ She glanced at Poppy.

‘You remember Anna saying she couldn’t help me with reminiscences about Philippe Cambone? Well, this morning she admitted she did know him. In fact, judging from her reaction when we saw the funeral cars, I think there was more to their relationship than she’s saying publicly. You should have seen how white she went. Leo was so protective.’

‘I have to go across later to finalise some of the arrangements for tomorrow.’ Poppy said. ‘Hope she’s all right. I like Anna.’ She glanced at her sister. ‘But first there is something I have to tell you.’ Poppy hesitated.

‘I’m afraid when Nat came to collect Tom to play with Cindy, Ben came into the conversation.’

‘How?’ Daisy took the jacket off and looked at her sister.

‘Oh Nat said something about you being a journalist and I flippantly said yes, if she doesn’t jack it in to join Ben in Australia. Which seemed to throw him. I take it you haven’t mentioned Ben’s existence to him?’

‘No. It never seemed to be the right moment somehow. Oh by the way I’ve got an ex boyfriend in Sydney who unexpectedly wants me to join him, isn’t easy to drop into the conversation.’

‘Doesn’t sound that difficult to me if you like someone. Telling them the truth from the beginning is the best policy,’ Poppy said.

‘Yes, well. It’s not a big deal. I’ll straighten things out when we take the kids out on Saturday. Promise.’

Daisy folded the jacket and put it in the bag. It was one thing giving Marcus the wrong idea but Nat was different, she really liked him.

‘I’ll take this lot upstairs and then I’m going to do some work on my laptop, after that I’ll be free to help you with things. OK if I work under the loggia? Don’t want to be in your way.’

‘I’m going to start doing a few table decorations and the flowers before Tom gets back,’ Poppy said. ‘Could do with a hand when you’ve finished. The pianist should be here soon to check out the piano. Oh, what about the cake?’

‘I’ve arranged to have one decorated at the supermarché. I’ll collect it in the morning.’ Daisy said. ‘So no worries there.’

Daisy e-mailed her report and put the finishing touches to her ‘Then and Now’ feature before joining Poppy in the kitchen.

When Nat returned with Tom and an excited Cindy the two sisters were busy assembling table decorations.

‘Tom’s coming to my birthday tea and on Saturday Nat’s taking us to see the whales, Daisy too,’ Cindy told Poppy.

‘The Festival will have wound down by then with everyone really just waiting for the winner of the Palm d’Or to be announced,’ Nat said. ‘So you don’t have to worry about missing anything.’

‘I’m not worried,’ Daisy said. ‘You are coming to the party tomorrow night aren’t you? I’ve cleared it with Anna. She’s said she’ll introduce you to a couple of people.’

‘Great. Teddy Wickham has finally read one of my scripts too and wants a producer friend to read it.’

‘Nat, that’s wonderful,’ Daisy said.

‘Might mean disappearing to America for a few days or even weeks if they like it,’ Nat said. ‘Fancy coming with me?’ he asked staring at her.

‘Aren’t you rather rushing things here Nat?’ Daisy said.

‘I’m sure you’d find plenty to write home about from Los Angeles. Unless you’ve got other plans? Poppy – and Marcus – seemed to think you might.’

‘Ah. Can we talk about this another time?’ Daisy said.

‘Tonight? Meet me for a drink later?’

‘Oh, I said I’d be at Poppy’s beck and call tonight and tomorrow to help with party preparations,’ Daisy said. ‘I don’t know if ...’

‘We’re well ahead here,’ Poppy said. ‘Don’t worry on my account.’

‘In that case I’ll pick you up about eight thirty. Nowhere dressy.’ Nat said. ‘Come on Cindy. Time we went home.’

Poppy looked at Daisy as the door closed behind them. ‘Nat’s a good bloke.’

‘I know. I really like him but we’ve only just met. I can’t believe that ...’

‘I knew Dan was the one for me within twenty-four hours of meeting him,’ Poppy interrupted. ‘Trust your instincts for once.’

Chapter Twenty-Four

Leo and Anna were sitting on the terrace after supper when Leo reached into his pocket and placed a small package on the table. ‘Before I forget. I got you something in town earlier,’ he said. ‘Where’s your locket?’

‘Upstairs in my purse,’ Anna replied, opening the tissue wrapped package to find a gold chain nestling within its folds. ‘Oh thank you. I’ll get the locket.’

Returning a few moments later clutching the locket, Anna was surprised to find Leo talking on her mobile phone which she’d left on the table.

‘Here she is, Bruno, I’ll hand you over,’ Leo said.

‘Hi,’ Anna said. ‘How did it go this morning? We saw the cars,’ she added.

‘It was a beautiful service but I still can’t believe that Philippe has gone,’ Bruno answered. ‘Can you come into town tomorrow morning?’ he continued. ‘Jacques wants a meeting with both of us.’

‘Why?’

‘He would like to meet you again.’

‘I can’t really see the point,’ Anna said.

‘Please Anna. I think you should find the time. It’s important to Jacques. Ten o’clock at the Cambones’, OK?’

‘I’ve still got things to do for tomorrow night’s party,’ Anna protested. ‘I’m not sure I can spare the time. Wednesday would be better for me.’

‘Sorry Anna, I know Jacques is leaving for Paris on Wednesday. It shouldn’t take more than half an hour. I can organise a car to collect and return you if that helps?’

Anna sighed before reluctantly agreeing and saying goodbye. She turned to look at Leo.

‘Jacques Cambone wants a meeting with me and Bruno tomorrow morning. Will you come with me?’

Leo shook his head. ‘No.’

Anna stared at him, shocked by the determination in his voice.

He held out his hand. ‘Give me the locket and I’ll put it on the chain.’ Leo concentrated on threading the chain through the small loop at the top of the locket, before looking up at Anna.

‘It’s your past – only you can deal with it. We’ll face the future together but we both have to deal with the baggage from our previous lives ourselves. Of course I’ll support you in any way I can, but ultimately you have to face certain things alone. May I open the locket?’

Anna nodded. Leo was silent as he looked at the faded picture of Anna and Philippe and gently fingered the few fine strands of hair that were curled around the inside of the locket. ‘Jean-Philippe’s?’

Anna nodded, unable to speak as her eyes filled with unexpected tears.

‘Come here,’ Leo said closing the locket and holding it out to place around Anna’s neck. ‘I’ll do it up for you.’

Pushing the clasp tightly closed, he bent his head and brushed her cheeks with his lips.

‘I love you so much Anna but you must relegate these ghosts to your past where they belong.’

Chapter Twenty-Five

Daisy pulled on her best pair of skinny-leg white jeans and a pale blue sweatshirt, and topped it off with Poppy’s leather jacket she’d found hanging in the wardrobe. She and Poppy had always borrowed each others’ clothes so she knew it wouldn’t be a problem.

Nat might have instructed her not to dress up but she still wanted to look good. Idly she wondered where they would go for a drink. Be difficult to find somewhere quiet in Cannes, that was for sure.

Nat was talking to Poppy in the kitchen when she went downstairs.

‘Hi. So where are we going?’

‘A brasserie on the coast road at Juan les Pins,’ Nat said. ‘If you’re happy with the transport that is,’ and he handed her a crash helmet.

Daisy laughed when she saw the Vespa scooter outside. ‘Nat, you’re full of surprises.’

‘I’ve got a Harley at home but these seem to be the in thing for nipping around on down here.’

Sitting behind Nat, arms clasped tightly around him, Daisy enjoyed the ride along the bord de mer as Nat expertly waved his way through the traffic. The main Juan les Pins streets when they arrived, although less crowded than Cannes, were bustling with locals and holidaymakers enjoying themselves. Parking the scooter near the marina, Nat held Daisy’s hand as they strolled back towards the town centre.

Passing the derelict Hotel de Provence currently concealed behind scaffolding and tarpaulin Nat said, ‘I love this place. I’d love to be able to put the clock back and see it in its heyday. It must have been really something. Great to see it being restored – even if it’s being converted into yet more apartments.’

‘When you’re a rich and famous Hollywood scriptwriter you can buy one and pretend you’re a reincarnation of Scott Fitzgerald,’ Daisy teased.

Nat shook his head. ‘No. I want to live in the country. I don’t like towns that much. A farm up in the back country here would suit me fine. Peace and quiet for being creative. How about you? Are you a real townie?’

‘Grew up on the edge of a town, with fields and a wood at the end of the garden. Poppy and I were always disappearing and building dens and having adventures. So I guess I like a mixture of both town and country but I definitely prefer old houses to modern. I’d love to do what Poppy and Dan have done. Restore something.’ Daisy glanced at Nat. ‘That is what apparently freaked Ben out.’

‘So tell me about this Ben,’ Nat said. ‘Marcus said you were going to join him in Australia.’

‘Marcus was wrong. We’d been together about nine months and I suggested we could find a property to renovate and suddenly he decided our relationship was crowding in on him. He wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. What he really wanted was space. Australian space.’

Daisy was quiet. ‘That was six months ago. I had my first letter from him last week suggesting if I was missing him as much as he missed me, I could join him out there.’

‘Are you going to? Again Marcus gave me the impression you couldn’t wait to book your ticket.’

‘I deliberately misled Marcus,’ Daisy said quietly. ‘All I was thinking of doing was going out for a holiday. See Australia and finally decide how I felt about Ben when I saw him face to face, but ...’ Daisy shook her head.

‘Why didn’t you mention Ben to me?’

Daisy looked at Nat. Why hadn’t she told him? Was it simply a question of the right moment not showing up? Or was it because she was still flirting with the idea of her and Ben getting it together again? No, definitely not that.

‘Didn’t know how to. I felt a bit self-conscious telling you about an ex boyfriend when you and I had only just met. I knew I liked you but I didn’t know how serious you were about me.’

‘Oh I’m serious about you,’ Nat said. ‘Have been from day one.’

‘Oh,’ Daisy said. ‘That’s nice.’ And immediately felt silly for using such an inadequate, ordinary word. It was more than nice. ‘Seriously nice,’ she added as Nat looked at her laughing.

‘Come on, let’s try one of these Italian glacés. They look “seriously nice” too!’ Nat said.

Sitting at the brasserie on the beach, spoon-feeding each other with tastes of their different ice creams, Daisy began to feel that her love life was getting back on track.

Four hours later after a visit to a jazz club, when Nat put his arms around her and kissed her goodnight, Daisy trembled. There it was again. That delicious tingling feeling that only Nat aroused in her.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Bruno was waiting outside the Cambones’ restaurant when the car dropped Anna off the next morning. The window blinds had been lowered so it was impossible to see inside. Bruno and Anna had to side-step around the heap of floral tributes still lying in the restaurant entrance.

The door was ajar and as Bruno pushed it open, a bell jangled. ‘Jacques, nous sommes arrivés,’ he called out, closing the door securely behind him.

‘J’arrive,’ and Jacques Cambone materialised out of the gloom of the bar area.

‘Bonjour Anna,’ he said gravely, shaking her by the hand. Anna, steeling herself for the usual cheek kissing from this man who reminded her so much of Philippe, felt her hand tremble in his.

‘Thank you for coming. Please sit.’ Jacques gestured towards three chairs around a table with a pot of coffee and a plate of biscuits.

Anna regarded Jacques intently as he poured coffee. Identical twins they might have been, but she’d never mistaken him for Philippe the few times she’d seen them together. For her, Philippe’s charisma had simply outshone his brother’s.

Now though, she found herself wondering whether Jacques was still the mirror image of Philippe. Had Philippe’s hair greyed at the temples like Jacques? Had he needed reading glasses like the ones Jacques had placed on a folder in front of him? Had his eyes still crinkled when he smiled?

The stress of the last week was etched across Jacques’ face as he pushed a coffee across the table to Anna.

‘I’m sorry we meet again under such sad circumstances,’ he said quietly. ‘It is a pity you did not return to Cannes before. Philippe would have loved to see you again.’

Anna accepted the rebuke and the coffee silently, willing him to tell her what the meeting was all about.

‘I’ve found something amongst my brother’s possessions that I think by rights belongs to you. Also,’ Jacques paused. ‘Philippe left you some papers.’

Anna stared at him as he reached into the folder and pulled out two envelopes. One, small and brown around the edges and bearing an old-fashioned stamp, was clearly old. Anna recognised her father’s writing scrawled across the crossed out address: ‘Gone Away. Return to Sender.’

She fought back the tears as she realised it was Philippe’s reply to the news of her pregnancy all those years ago. The envelope had never been opened. The other, larger envelope, was new, unstamped and bare except for her name written across it. Anna’s fingers trembled as she stretched out her hand to take the envelopes.

‘Philippe started to write the things you’ll find in there after he received the first letter.’ Jacques said.

Anna bit her lip and tried to stop the tears flowing down her cheeks. Gratefully she accepted the handkerchief Bruno offered.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘This is all so unexpected.’ She looked at Jacques. ‘What is happening? Can you tell me who has been in touch? Bruno did tell me it was a woman.’

‘A Felicity Howell wrote on behalf of her husband who believes he is Philippe’s son. She is telephoning me this afternoon,’ Jacques said. ‘I hope to learn more from her then.’

‘Did the letter mention her husband’s mother?’

Jacques shook his head. ‘No. It simply said her husband had been adopted at birth and had never known either of his real parents. When I speak with her, I will try to extract as much information from her as I can.’

‘Anna,’ Bruno said gently, ‘there is more. Philippe’s lawyer wants a meeting with you. A couple of months ago I witnessed Philippe’s will – you were to be a beneficiary if you could be found at the time of his death.’

Anna stared at him. ‘Me? A beneficiary?’

Bruno nodded. ‘Yes, Anna. The lawyer will explain when you meet him later.’

‘Why don’t you take the envelopes and read Philippe’s letters in private and we can meet again later in the week,’ Jacques suggested.

‘I’ll ring for the car,’ Bruno said reaching for his mobile phone.

Anna stopped him. ‘No don’t do that Bruno. I think I’d like to take a walk. Clear my head. I’ll see you tonight at the party. And Jacques, thank you. It was good to meet you again too.’

Anna pushed her way through the crowds on the Croisette and began making her way along Quai Saint Pierre with just a single thought in her mind. She had to get away from all these people.

A poster for the ferry boats that operated between Cannes and the Iles de Lérins caught her eye. Running the length of Quai M. Lebeuf she bought a ticket for the next sailing and was the last person to board the crowded boat.

Twenty minutes later she followed her fellow passengers up the quay to the small traffic-free road that circled the island. Watching as everyone else took the clockwise route, Anna deliberately turned right and began making her way along the coastal track towards an almost deserted beach.

Perched on a small rock Anna finally opened the letter Philippe had sent her nearly forty years ago.

‘My Darling, What wonderful news! Where shall we get married – France or England? Where shall we live while the island cottage is being done up? What shall we call the baby? Will you come to America with me? (I promise we’ll be back in time for “it” to be born in France – or England, whatever you decide.) I can barely believe we’re going to be a family so quickly. I promise to take the greatest care of you both. All my love, Philippe.’ Underneath his signature the words ‘One Life, One Love’ were followed by a string of kisses.

Anna gazed out unseeingly across the Mediterranean towards Cannes, tears spilling from her eyes. Why hadn’t she believed in their love more? Whatever her parents had said all those years ago about it being a ‘holiday romance’ with Philippe taking advantage of her naivety, had been so wrong.

Philippe had wanted her and Jean-Philippe. The fault was all hers for not believing in him and allowing her parents to bully her into doing what they wanted and considered to be the right thing.

A family running down to chase and splash each other on the edge of the sea a few metres away from her, jolted Anna out of the trance-like state she’d slipped into remembering the past. She watched them for a few moments, envying their easy familiarity with each other before pulling the contents of the second envelope out with shaking fingers.

Hesitantly Anna flipped through the pages of the spiral bound notebook dislodging a piece of folded paper that fluttered down to the shingle at her feet. Picking it up, she began to read:

‘Ma Chérie, this is a letter I hope to give you when we are together again.

‘I can’t tell you how excited I am by the arrival of a letter about a man who could turn out to be our child. To think, after all these years I could be about to meet my son and through him, you again. I intend to keep a journal record as things unfold so that when we all finally meet you will be able to see how everything happened. I fervently pray that this is not a false alarm and we will be able to finally welcome our son into his family.

‘I appreciate how different your life must be after all these years and you may find it upsetting as the past makes its presence known in the present, but if nothing else, I hope we can meet as friends and share a part of our lives in the future.’

A simple ‘Philippe’ signature this time at the bottom of the page. No quotation. No kisses.

Anna re-folded the piece of paper and carefully slipped it in towards the back of the notebook as she opened it. Philippe had started his journal six weeks earlier, carefully dating the first page – the day he’d received the first letter.

Reading Philippe’s journal and his obvious delight in the possibility of meeting his son, Anna could again hear the voice of the boy she’d loved. The pages were full of his thoughts and hopes for the future - and questions about how she, Anna, would be.

‘Will I recognise you – you, me? I was so angry with you when you disappeared. The one thing I wanted was to find you and care for you. For years I tried to find you. Hoped you’d get in touch with me. I saw you once in the audience at the Film Institute in London but you’d left the building before I could get to you. I saw you getting into a taxi and vanishing out of my life again. The years and life took on their own momentum and suddenly twenty years had passed. I realised even if I did find you, it was too late for us to be that happy family but I couldn’t – and didn’t – stop looking for you. But you vanished very effectively.’

The last entry started: ‘Today Jacques and I had words about me meeting my son. He is very sceptical about things working out but I believe they will. I feel in my heart of hearts that the time has finally come for me to be able to right wrongs done so many years ago. I’m off to America tomorrow, when I return the Cannes Film Festival will be in full swing – who knows, by the time it finishes I may have definite news about our family. “Our family.” Oh, how I love that phrase.’

Anna, unable to control her sobbing, searched frantically for a tissue in her bag, aware that the family playing nearby were watching her, trying to hide their concern. She forced a smile in their direction, praying they wouldn’t approach her, and tried to stop herself shaking. The blue ‘missed message’ light on her mobile in the bottom of her bag was flashing. Leo.

With shaking fingers she pressed the redial button and waited for Leo to pick up.

‘Anna, where are you? I’ve been frantic with worry. Bruno told me you left him hours ago.’

‘I’m on Saint Marguerite. Leo darling, I’m so sorry. I just had to be by myself for a while.’

‘Are you okay?’ Leo asked. ‘Bruno said it was an emotional meeting with Jacques.’

‘It was.’

‘You need to be here. Poppy needs to talk to you about finalising things for this evening. There still seems a lot to be done.’

‘I’ll be back soon. I promise I’ll catch the next boat back. There’s one coming across the bay now. Leo, we need to talk when I get back.’

‘We’ll talk all you like after this party is out of the way,’ Leo said firmly. ‘There are things I need to say as well. I’ll tell Poppy you’ll be here within the hour then.’

Thoughtfully Anna closed her phone. Carefully she placed the two envelopes with their revealing contents in her bag. She had all the proof she’d ever needed that Philippe Cambone had truly loved her – had probably still loved her at the time of his death.

Anna pressed her hands against her eyes and rubbed hard, trying yet again to stem the tears. She knew she had only herself to blame for the mess she’d made of things. How was she going to live with herself now, knowing how much she’d hurt Philippe with her selfish act of giving their son away?