A Riviera Retreat. Jennifer Bohnet
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Matilda shook her head. ‘Rosé will be lovely. I always think of rosé as a wine that one should only drink in the heat of summer and preferably in the South of France. Both conditions of which are met here. Santé.’
Vicky, standing looking out over the garden, sighed. ‘It’s so beautiful here. I’ve only just arrived and I feel I never want to leave.’
‘You’re not the first to feel like that,’ Amy said. ‘Ah, Chelsea. Glass of wine?’
‘Umm, could I have something to nibble first please? Otherwise I think the wine will go straight to my head, it’s so long since I’ve eaten properly.’
‘Sure, help yourself,’ Amy said. ‘I always find swimming makes me hungry too. But do leave enough room for the lamb Olivia has roasted.’
While they enjoyed the nibbles and rosé, Amy started to explain a little about the retreat and her plans for the week.
‘I’m used to running retreats and courses here where everyone who comes usually has a shared interest with the people in the group. Having the three of you here, all strangers and probably with nothing in common, is a first for me. I’m hoping you all get on,’ and Amy smiled at them before taking a sip of her wine and continuing.
‘The eight rooms with names are the bedrooms – mine’s on the first floor and is the “Isadora Duncan”. Do please feel free to explore the rest of the house,’ Amy said. ‘Breakfast is a help yourself affair in the kitchen and you can eat in there, wander out here or eat on your own terrace. Pierre, the gardener, brings the fresh croissants and pains au chocolat up every morning from the village at about 7.30. I get lunch – usually bread, cheese, salad and charcuterie from the market, which is my limit, I’m no cook. If you’re going out independently for the day, just let me know. Olivia will come in to cook dinner every day unless we decide to eat out one evening.’
‘Sounds wonderful,’ Vicky said. ‘Having food bought, cooked and placed in front of me without me having to organise it. I’m not a very good cook either,’ she confessed, looking at Amy.
‘I’m happy to arrange a couple of days out if you’re interested?’ Amy said. ‘A group visit to Monaco? Antibes? Both are easily accessible from here. And, of course, Cannes is just down the road.’
‘I’d love to go to Monaco,’ Chelsea said. ‘And if you could introduce me to a millionaire that would be cool.’
‘I don’t think I know any,’ Amy laughed. ‘But we can certainly have a look around.’
‘I had a holiday with my husband and son in Antibes years ago,’ Matilda said. ‘If my ankle is strong enough, I’d enjoy another visit.’
‘Right. I’ll organise a day out to Monaco, followed by one to Antibes. I thought tomorrow could be a quiet day, let you settle in.’
Olivia appeared just then and placed their starters on the table before wishing everyone ‘Bon appetit’.
Over dinner, the four of them got to know a little bit more about each other. Matilda, having told them she had one son and had been a widow for nearly two years, said. ‘You and your husband, Vicky – what do you both do?’
‘Me – I’ve been a stay-at-home mum for years, but that is about to change. I want to write a novel.’ Vicky gave Amy a quick glance before adding, ‘As for my husband, he’s a civil servant.’
Amy looked at her and smiled. Well, that was one way of describing a politician without lying.
‘I run a small catering firm with my best friend, Elsie,’ Chelsea said. ‘And before anyone asks, I’m single but currently off men. Unless I meet a millionaire in Monaco, of course.’ She laughed. ‘No, seriously, the next time I meet someone I like, I’m going to interrogate him about his background as if I’m a member of MI5 before I even agree to have a coffee with him.’
Everyone looked at her, waiting for her to expand on her words, but Chelsea shook her head.
‘Sorry. Still too raw.’
‘You’re young,’ Matilda said. ‘When you’ve recovered from your bad experience, I’m sure you’ll meet someone you can trust – probably when you least expect to. At least that’s the way it was for me,’ and Matilda fell silent.
Amy realised the silence following Matilda’s words as everybody waited for her to explain was in danger of spoiling the happy atmosphere that had surrounded them all during the meal.
‘I agree,’ Amy said. ‘Life likes to throw the occasional curveball at us, but sometimes I’ve found catching them is the best way forward.’
‘What did you do, Amy, before you came here?’ Chelsea asked curiously.
‘Me? I was a ballet dancer.’
‘Is that why your bedroom has the name Isadora Duncan?’ Matilda asked.
Amy nodded. ‘I have a bit of a thing about her. She was unconventional and my idol as I was growing up. Ah, here comes Olivia with dessert and champagne to toast the beginning of your holiday.’
Once the champagne had been poured, they all raised their glasses as Amy gave the toast.
‘Here’s to a happy holiday for you all at Belle Vue Villa. Santé.’
As she sipped her own glass of ice-cold bubbles, Amy glanced across at Matilda. She appeared to have something in common with the older woman. But whereas Matilda’s bad experience with a man in the past seemed to have been overtaken by a more positive one, Amy knew hers still had the power to affect her life, denying her the one thing she longed for. No man had yet appeared to reassure her and make her feel better about life. To encourage her to love again. In fact, like Chelsea, she too was currently off men and sometimes doubted she’d ever trust a man again, full stop.
6
Vicky woke to silence the next morning and for a moment she struggled to work out where she was. Normally, her day began at six thirty, when she awoke to a cacophony of traffic noise and the sounds of various neighbours leaving for work. Here, apart from the odd pigeon cooing from high up in one of the garden trees, the silence was absolute – not even the cicadas were up yet – and was wonderful to listen to.
Lying there, Vicky was relieved to recall that breakfast was a help yourself affair. Her body might have been conditioned over the years to waking her up early, but she was definitely not a social being first thing in the morning. It wasn’t just a caffeine hit she needed, it was time on her own to wake up properly. The nightmare of the school run years was thankfully over, but Anthony still liked her to join him for breakfast.
Was Anthony missing her this morning? She’d texted him to say she’d arrived safely and that the villa was lovely, but he hadn’t replied properly. Just sent one of those thumbs up signs. Well, there was nothing really to say, was there? He’d already told her to enjoy herself and he wouldn’t waste time saying the same thing again. Not because he didn’t care but because, as far as he was concerned, he’d said it once and he wasn’t one for repeating himself. He’d always been straightforward like that. Unlike many of his fellow politicians, he would always try to give you an honest answer. It had got him into trouble with the party more than once, when they’d wanted him to toe the official line.
Telling the others last night that he was a civil servant hadn’t exactly been a lie, but she hadn’t wanted to tell them the truth. At home, once people knew whose wife she was they could never resist having a dig at ‘this inept government’ or, equally embarrassing, asking her to lobby Anthony for some cause on their behalf. She doubted anyone here would do either of those things, but still, she wanted to be just herself, Vicky Lewis, for the next nine days. This holiday was about being selfish for once and seeing whether she could actually start to write a novel – and kickstart