To Provence, with Love. T Williams A
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had had blonde hair as a little girl and it was still a very light brown now. She nodded. ‘Yes, this is the real me.’
‘And how old are you?’
‘I’m twenty-eight.’
Miss Beech gave a little sigh. ‘Ah, how I’d love to be twenty-eight again.’
Faye didn’t give her time to become nostalgic. Remembering how the housekeeper and the PA had referred to their employer, Faye summoned her most enthusiastic voice. ‘Miss Beech, I’m most terribly excited to meet you. I’d already seen a number of your films and since I heard you wanted to interview me, I’ve downloaded some more and watched them. I loved them all, particularly Faded Heart. Seeing you now is like being in one of the films.’
Miss Beech smiled graciously. ‘That was all a long time ago. Things change, I’ve changed.’ Faye felt the great lady still studying her closely, before the smile turned to a gentle grin. ‘And you don’t want to believe everything you see in the movies.’
‘But you still look amazing.’
Miss Beech’s expression remained the same, her eyes still fixed on her visitor. ‘You’re very sweet, Faye. Now, let me tell you what I’d like you to do for me.’
At that moment the door opened and Claudette reappeared with a tray bearing an exquisite Japanese tea set and another mountain of food. She put it down beside Faye and then went over to pour fresh water into the glass on Miss Beech’s bedside table. ‘Will there be anything else, Miss Beech?’ To Faye’s surprise, she was speaking English, and good English as well, with only a trace of a French accent.
‘No, thank you, Claudette. You get back to your cooking.’ Miss Beech glanced across at Faye. ‘You will stay for lunch with us, won’t you?’
‘That’s very kind. I’d love to.’ Faye waited until Claudette had left the room before whispering. ‘But, if that’s the case, I’d better not eat too many of these delicious-smelling biscuits.’
Miss Beech smiled. ‘Claudette’s a firm believer that a full stomach cures all known ills. Since I’ve been in bed this past week, she’s been doing her best to fatten me up.’
‘I’m sorry you aren’t well. I hope you get better soon.’ Faye dropped her eyes to the dog, now positioned at her feet. Absently, she rubbed him with her foot and heard him grunt contentedly.
‘Oh, it’s just a few aches and pains. I’ll be up and about again in no time, I’m sure. But, at my age, it’s to be expected that every now and then the body starts playing up. I certainly can’t complain. I’ve had an absolutely wonderful life. I’ve been spoiled and spoiled and spoiled. It’s the way of the world that we can’t stay young and healthy for ever.’
Miss Beech reached for the water glass and took a mouthful. ‘Do, please, go ahead and drink your tea.’ She lowered her voice. ‘If you eat a few of the biscuits, we can give Marlon another couple and Claudette will think you’ve had them.’ Faye was delighted to hear the old lady sounding quite mischievous, a naughty note in her voice and a twinkle in her eye. She discovered that she really rather liked Miss Beech. Picking up a biscuit, she did as bidden and found it was divine: homemade and still warm. Marlon wasn’t the only one in for a treat.
‘Well now, Faye, what I’d like you to do is to compile my biography for me. Just for me, you understand. I’m not planning on getting it published, at least as long as I’m still alive. What happens to it after my death isn’t going to worry me.’ Miss Beech looked across with a hint of a smile. ‘Over the years, I’ve kept a diary. Not religiously every day, but fairly frequently, especially when there were big events going on. You know, like getting married, winning an Oscar, getting divorced. That kind of thing.’ She gave Faye a grin. ‘I got married three times, won two Oscars, and went through two divorces, by the way.’
‘And you’ve still got those diaries?’
Miss Beech nodded. ‘There’s a box full of all manner of stuff, including a load of photos, in my study. I’ve also got a whole lot of notebooks and odd sheets of paper where I’ve tried to write down things as I remember them, but it’s all a hopeless jumble. That’s where you come in. What I’d like you to do is to go through it all with me and try to draw it together into a book. As I say, I don’t want to publish it. I just think it would be good to collect all my memories together. Would you feel able to do that?’
‘I’d love to try, Miss Beech, but I have to tell you, I’ve only ever written one book before, and that was a thriller, not a biography. I spend my working life doing my best to teach kids to read and write, but this would be the first time I’d be at the start of the creative process of anything like an autobiography.’
‘That’s very honest of you, my dear.’ Then she surprised Faye considerably. ‘Part of the reason I chose you is because I read The Devil Over Your Shoulder and enjoyed it. You write very well, very fluently.’
She’s read my book! Faye could hardly believe it. It was an e-book she had self-published just before the break-up with Didier and it had sold barely a hundred copies so far. This was just about the first time she had come across somebody outside of her circle of friends and family who had read it and she felt herself blushing at the praise. ‘Thank you so much. I’m honoured that you should have read it, and that you liked it. That’s quite made my day.’ And it had.
‘So, does the idea of writing a biography scare you?’
Faye had been asking herself precisely that same question for the past few days and the answer came back the same every time. ‘Yes, definitely, but it also fascinates me and attracts me. I’d love to. That’s if you’re happy to give me the chance.’
‘Excellent, Faye. I’m sure you’ll do a super job.’
Faye noticed the use of the future, rather than the conditional, tense and knew there was something she really had to say. She hesitated, searching for words. ‘Look, Miss Beech, there’s something I’ve really got to tell you. Mr Danvers the solicitor told me you were offering to pay me an absolute fortune. You could probably take your pick of any number of famous authors for that sort of money. Are you sure you’ve got the right girl?’
‘I’m sure I’ve got the right girl, Faye. Quite sure. But what about you? This will mean giving up your job in London, and I suppose that could damage your career plans.’
‘That’s not a problem. To be honest, I’ve been getting more and more disillusioned at work for a good while now. I love teaching and I love the kids – well, most of them – but the atmosphere there has been getting worse and worse since we got a new head. I’ve been actively looking round for something new for a few weeks now. I had an interview for a big teaching temp agency and they tell me there’s a shortage of language teachers. When the time comes, they say they’ll be able to find me a job in a very different environment and it could be just the change I need.’
Faye couldn’t help thinking just how much she was looking forward to getting away from Miss Dawes. The fact that a move outside of London would also put a good few miles between her and Didier was an added bonus. And, if she got this job here in Provence, that would be more like a thousand miles’ distance from him and that felt even better.
Miss Beech nodded. ‘You know what they say: a change is as good as a rest. Now, there’s one thing, though, Faye. I’m no good with all this internet stuff, so, realistically, you’ll have to come and live down here for the duration. Is that something you could do? I imagine a pretty girl like you has probably got a special someone tucked away somewhere – someone who won’t be able to live without you.’
Faye shook her head. Since the split with Didier, she had hardly been out socially, and certainly not with a man. ‘No, there’s no special someone now, Miss Beech. I’m a free agent.’ Miss Beech must have heard some regret in her voice, as did the Labrador, who pressed his nose against her bare leg in solidarity. Faye reached down and scratched his ears.
‘But