3

THE TIME PASSED quickly and almost before they knew it, Louisa, Danny and Sarah, their cars as filled to the brim with luggage as they were with heady anticipation, were driving in convoy down through France. They stopped overnight in Burgundy, staying in an old farmhouse with friends of Sarah’s and breakfasting outside in glorious sunshine. They arrived on the Côte d’Azur during the late afternoon, turned off the autoroute heading inland and got lost trying to find the villa. It didn’t matter, they were back on the right road soon enough having stopped for a while to gaze dreamily out at the distant, dazzling views of the Mediterranean. They finally arrived at the magnificent, Provençal villa just as it was getting dark and not even bothering to unpack the cars or designate rooms they cracked open bottle after bottle of champagne until they were almost hysterical with laughter as they teased each other with the outlandish ways they were intending to fill the weeks ahead.

It took little more than twenty-four hours for their initial euphoria to fade. And by the time two weeks had passed Danny was so fed up she could hardly be bothered to speak.

Wandering listlessly out of the kitchen, hugging her cardigan around her she padded across the red-tiled hall into the sitting room. Her face was set in an expression of outright resentment. Sarah and Louisa were huddled together on one of the vast creamy leather sofas engrossed in the Times crossword and didn’t even glance up as Danny slumped down on the sofa opposite and sighed angrily.

Two weeks they’d been here now and it hadn’t stopped bloody raining, not even for a minute. In England there was a heat wave, on the Côte d’Azur there were floods! That she might just have been able to stand, but the horror of finding themselves in a place that, for all its splendour and beauty, could, thanks to its population, only be described as the furthest flung suburb of London was a fucking nightmare! Almost the moment they’d arrived they’d been pounced on by the jolly hockey-sticks brigade who lived here and invited to every cocktail party, under-cover barbecue and pretentious dinner going. Meaning that, every damned person they’d met so far was English! No wonder her aunt rarely came here, it was purgatory.

Maybe they should have taken somewhere nearer the coast, but how were they to know that the historic and picturesque village of Valanjou, twenty or so kilometres inland from Cannes, was going to be like this? There was no doubt that the village itself was exquisite with its steep and narrow cobbled streets, time-ravaged sixteenth-century houses and quaint arcaded square, but it was hard to work up an enthusiasm for anything when it never stopped bloody raining. And when practically every voice you heard was either English, or English mutilating French.

Actually they’d met one French person, Jean-Claude who lived in the villa opposite with his twenty-year-old lover, Didier. Louisa had struck up quite a friendship with Jean-Claude, but Danny wasn’t particularly interested in gays so hadn’t made much of an effort.

Thanks to Sky Gold and its repeats of Private Essays almost everyone around recognized Danny and though when in England she generally welcomed attention, when in another country she didn’t. She was feeling trapped behind the mask of her public facade and was hating every minute of it.

Deciding it must be time for a pastis and ready to tell the others to go to hell if they pointed out that it wasn’t yet four o’clock, Danny got up and wandered back to the kitchen for some ice.

‘This is turning into a disaster before we’ve even started,’ Louisa remarked quietly to Sarah.

‘I know,’ Sarah sighed, gazing dismally out of the french windows at the rain. Right at that moment it was hard to think of this house as the dazzling white villa with its red bougainvillea-covered walls and beautifully balustraded terraces they had seen in the photographs Danny had shown them. Even harder was imagining themselves swimming in the immaculate, turquoise-blue swimming pool that, when viewed from the villa, seemed to fall off the edge of the garden. Around the pool were vibrant, green potted palms, flowering shrubs, giant cacti and the occasional stone sculpture of nymph-like creatures. The garden that sloped gently into the woods all around was filled with ancient olive trees, soaring pines and succulent orange, lemon and quince trees. There was no doubt it was a beautiful place, but how the hell could they enjoy it in this sort of weather?

‘Just imagine if we’d come here for a fortnight,’ Louisa said, getting up and wandering over to the window. ‘Our time would be up now and this would have been it.’

‘God forbid,’ Sarah shuddered. ‘Still, it’s all the more reason to stay, I suppose. I mean, just look at that pool. We can’t possibly leave without taking advantage of it and the sun’s surely got to come out sooner or later. After all, this is the south of France!’

‘It is? I was beginning to think we were in Bournemouth.’

Sarah sighed, and closing her eyes leaned her head back against the sofa while Louisa watched the rain bounce off the wide, pale stone terrace outside where sprightly red geraniums tumbled from terracotta pots and lobelia the colour of lapis lazuli twisted itself lovingly around the balustrades. As her thoughts drifted through the winding, forest roads down to the breathtaking splendour of the coastline, so far only viewed from the car, she could feel herself almost bursting with frustration. The huge, sprawling palms, creamy white, subtropical beaches hugged by the aquamarine sea and the subtle, though unmistakable air of intrigue and wealth was like a magnet to her. And then there was the little hilltop village just the other side of Valanjou, that had fascinated her with its air of mystery and weird, sullen silence. When they’d stopped to ask the only person in sight if there was a café or restaurant in the village they were told that the nearest place was in Nice, some thirty kilometres away. An extraordinary response since Valanjou with all its restaurants and cafés was a mere three kilometres down the road. This had got Louisa’s creative juices flowing as freely as the rain for she could easily envisage something sinister going on in that village that the world so far knew nothing about. And the stupendous, gleaming yachts in the harbours where the very rich were about to descend for the summer were just crying out for someone to rock their polished decks with intrigue and romance. If only she could get out there and explore it all!

‘I’ll bet she’s gone to get a drink,’ Sarah said. ‘In fact, I think I’ll have one too, God knows we need something to cheer us up. Whose turn is it to cook tonight, by the way?’

‘Oh God, the mundanities,’ Louisa groaned.

‘That must mean it’s your turn,’ Sarah grinned.

‘It is. And I haven’t been to the shops to get anything yet.’

‘I’ll have one of those,’ Sarah said, as Danny came back with the ice, set it on the bar and took a bottle of pastis from a mirrored shelf.

Danny looked at her in surprise. ‘You will?’ she said.

‘Yes, why not? What about you, Louisa?’

Louisa shook her head. ‘I’ll have wine,’ she said, flopping into one of the armchairs that was almost the size of a sofa.

Danny blinked. ‘You do realize it’s not six o’clock yet, don’t you?’ she said.

‘We’re on holiday, aren’t we?’ Louisa yawned.

‘And she wants to get drunk so she can’t drive the car to go and get us something for dinner,’ Sarah explained.

‘Oh great, so we’re in for yet another riveting evening of take-away pizzas and Trivial Pursuit?’ Danny grimaced, wondering how the hell this was happening to her.

‘Looks very much like it,’ Sarah answered. ‘God, listen to that wind, will you?’ she added as it howled around the house.

‘It’s called the mistral,’ Louisa said.

‘Giving it a bloody name doesn’t make it any more acceptable,’ Danny snapped. ‘It’s driving me crazy.’

‘They say it does,’ Louisa informed her mildly. ‘Now are you going to pour or shall I?’

‘Oh my God! Quick! Hide!’ Danny ducked back from the bar where the steamy, rain-spattered window was reflected in the mirrors and pressed herself against the wall.

‘What is it?’ Louisa said.

‘It’s Mrs Name-Drop, who do you think?’ Danny hissed. ‘She’s coming up the drive. Now hide.’

Immediately Sarah and Louisa dived behind the nearest sofa.

‘It’s no good,’ Louisa whispered, peeking round one arm, ‘she’ll know we’re here, all the cars are there.’

‘Get back! She might think we’ve gone for a walk,’ Danny whispered.

‘It’s pissing down with rain,’ Sarah pointed out. ‘She’s bound to know we’re here.’

‘Are you saying you want to let her in?’ Danny hissed, glaring at her.

‘God forbid,’ Sarah cried under her breath, flinching as Mrs Name-Drop’s meaty fist rammed the front door so hard it might just crash its way through the three-hundred-year-old solid oak.

‘Hello! Hello in there. Is anyone at home?’ Marcia Barringer’s plummy voice boomed.

Danny sank to her knees, edging around the bar while Louisa gripped her stomach trying to suppress her laughter.

‘Yoo hoo! It’s Marcia! Is anyone there?’ She knocked again, so loudly the windows rattled in their frames.

‘She won’t go away,’ Sarah warned, hardly able to speak she was laughing so hard.

‘Are all the doors locked?’ Danny asked, a quick panic stealing the smile from her face.

‘If they are she’ll only come in through a window,’ Louisa choked.

‘Helloooo! Danny!’ Marcia called.

‘Why me?’ Danny groaned, making the others laugh all the more. ‘What’s the matter with you two? Why does it have to be me?’

‘The price of fame,’ Sarah laughed.

‘Oh fuck!’ Danny suddenly spluttered as Marcia’s beaming face appeared in a tiny square of the hall window. ‘Don’t say she saw me. Please God, don’t say she saw me!’

It didn’t seem that Marcia had, for a few seconds later they heard her footsteps crunching on the wet gravel outside heading back down the drive. At least, that’s what they thought, until Danny, still not totally convinced they’d managed to get rid of her so easily, crawled to the french windows and peeped out.

‘Jesus Christ!’ she almost screamed, clutching her chest as she came face to face with Rudy, Mrs Name-Drop’s pit bull terrier.

Rudy went berserk.

‘Rudy! Rudy! Do be quiet, there’s a dear,’ Marcia admonished, her voice barely muted by either the pounding rain or the french window. ‘You’ll frighten poor Danny.’

Danny lifted her head miserably, making a slow journey up over Marcia’s stocky frame until she came eye to eye with the curious expression peering down at her from the jaunty oval of its jolly headscarf. Danny gave a weak smile and Marcia stooped to make sure it really was Danny she was seeing crouched down there on the floor.

Sarah couldn’t hold on any longer. Her laughter came in a great whoop of unbridled mirth, while Louisa rolled around helplessly.

The fact that all three of them were picking themselves up from the floor, that Sarah and Louisa looked remarkably as if they’d been crying, seemed to pass Marcia by as she bounded excitedly into the room, closely followed by Rudy.

Rudy sniffed his way across the tiled floor, got one whiff of Sarah and pounced.

‘Get this wretched animal off me!’ Sarah screamed, slumping back against the wall as Rudy tried to nuzzle his way through the defence of her arms to get a good, wholesome lick of her face.

‘Rudy, you little rascal,’ Marcia laughed. ‘Leave poor Sarah alone, will you? I don’t know what it is about her,’ she said to Louisa and Danny, ‘but he seems to have developed quite a passion for her.’

‘For God’s sake, get him off, will you?’ Sarah cried.

Hooting with laughter Marcia grabbed Rudy’s collar, dragging him away from the object of his affections. ‘He’s just playing,’ she assured Sarah. ‘There’s nothing vicious about you, is there my precious?’

‘Well he gives a damned good impression of it,’ Sarah remarked sourly, brushing herself down and throwing Louisa a nasty look as Louisa, almost beside herself, helped her to her feet.

‘So!’ Marcia declared, plumping herself down on a sofa and coming straight to the point. ‘Have you seen,’ here she stopped and cupped a hand around the side of her mouth conspiratorially, ‘TK?’

Louisa, Sarah and Danny all looked at each other. Who was going to be the stooge this time?

‘Wasn’t he in the café earlier?’ Louisa answered, folding her legs under her as she too sat down. Unlike the others she was more entertained by Mrs Name-Drop than she was irritated. ‘I was in a bit of a hurry, but …’

Marcia’s head whirled in Louisa’s direction. ‘He was in the café?’ she cried, clearly miffed. ‘The café in Valanjou?’ she demanded.

Louisa shrugged. ‘He goes there quite often, or so he tells me, I’m surprised you’ve never seen him,’ she said, not having the faintest idea who they were talking about.

‘You mean you know him?’ Marcia said, her startling eyebrows bristling with resentment.

‘Oh yes,’ Louisa answered. ‘We’ve met him hundreds of times, haven’t we?’

‘Oh, hundreds,’ Sarah confirmed.

‘I see.’ Marcia’s voice was so clipped the words barely made it through her lips. ‘Have you ever been to his home?’

Louisa and Sarah looked at each other. ‘No, no, I can’t say we have,’ Sarah answered. ‘At least not so’s I can recall.’

‘Andrew and I have been invited over for cocktails tomorrow evening,’ Marcia announced, certain that this would top anything Louisa or Sarah might be able to tell her about the mysterious TK.

‘No! How wonderful!’ Sarah gushed. ‘Lucky you.’

‘He lives in Opio, you know,’ Marcia said, apparently pleased with Sarah’s response. ‘Just for the summer of course. We met him last year. Such a nice man. Of course he wasn’t the king then.’

Louisa almost choked.

‘The king?’ Sarah said. ‘Oh, is that what you call him? We call him Elvis.’

Danny gave a splutter of laughter as Marcia’s mobile face was arrested by confusion. ‘I don’t think he’s the king yet is he?’ Danny said, surprising them all.

Marcia’s busily darting eyes softened as they alighted on Danny. ‘You’re quite right, my dear, he isn’t. But as we know, he soon will be. My word, his life is going to change then. It’ll be like when Andrew and I first went to the Middle East. So many functions to attend, so many dreary dinners and cocktail parties. I could feel quite sorry for the poor man. I mean when it comes right down to it, when you actually sit down and think about it, who would really want to be a king? Such a ghastly job if you ask me. All those frightful people one has to be polite to … I was just saying to Andrew … Oh by the way, Danny dear, I just saw you on the TV. You did know they were re-running that wonderful series you were in on Sky Gold, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, I think you mentioned it once or twice,’ Danny muttered.

Marcia beamed. ‘I’ve written to tell all my friends that you’re living at the end of our lane. You’re our local celebrity now, you know? Do you think you might like to be interviewed on Riviera Radio? It’s an English station – I’m sure I can arrange it. We’ve got our own magazine down here as well, The Riviera Reporter. I’m sure they’d love to do a piece on you.’

‘Well actually, I was …’

‘I’ll never forget,’ Marcia boomed in over Danny, ‘the first time Andrew did an interview on the radio here. We were just inundated with invitations afterwards. It was how we got to know so many people. Of course, we don’t really like to mix with the English community too often, after all, what’s the point of living in France if you don’t take a tipple with the natives? We were just saying at dinner the other night, while we were with the mayor of Nice. He’s such a charming man. I’ll always remember …’

Behind Marcia’s back Sarah rolled her eyes and stifled a yawn. There’d be no stopping Marcia now with her, ‘I’ll never forget’s’ and ‘I’ll always remember’s’. That would be backed up by further fawning over Danny and there were bound to be more names to be dropped and more one-upmanship before she could happily be on her way. God the woman was insufferable and wasn’t it just like her to compare herself and her husband with the soon to be crowned king and queen of Belgium, whom Sarah had belatedly identified as TK, the king.

An hour and a half later, having downed the best part of a cheap bottle of rosé, Marcia launched herself back down the drive, dragging a reluctant Rudy on his lead. ‘Don’t forget!’ she cried, turning back to Danny, ‘Colour-Me-Beautiful on Wednesday and tomorrow night is B-B-Q time! I’ve told everyone you’ll be there, so don’t let me down.’

‘That’s it!’ Danny declared, closing the door behind her. ‘She’s never coming in here again.’

Sarah and Louisa were rolling around the sofa laughing.

‘And if she thinks I’m going to her bloody B-B-Q … B-B-Q! Why can’t the fucking woman speak properly? Well I’m telling you, if she comes near this house again she’s going to exit PDQ because I can’t stand any more of it. And stop laughing you two,’ she said, breaking into a reluctant smile herself. ‘It’s not funny.’

‘You should see it from where we’re sitting,’ Sarah gasped. ‘I thought you were going to throw up at one point. I know I nearly did. How the hell does her husband put up with her?’

‘You mean you haven’t had that pleasure!’ Danny cried. ‘He’s as bad. No, I take that back, he’s worse. They’re a double act.’

‘Oh my God! Look!’ Louisa cried.

Instantly Danny plastered herself to the wall. ‘She’s back?’

‘No, it’s the sun!’ Louisa laughed. ‘Look!’

‘Quick, get your bikinis before it goes,’ Sarah cried excitedly. ‘Ah, too late, it’s gone.’

‘But it has stopped raining,’ Louisa pointed out, springing up from the sofa. ‘I’m going to get some food. Set the table on the terrace, I don’t care if we’re up to our knees in puddles, tonight we’re eating outside.’

By the time Louisa finally extricated herself from the nightmare of Carrefour, just outside Antibes, where the Godzillas of French womanhood convened for their weekly pillage and rampage, almost two hours had passed and the rain had started again. Not as heavily, but the drizzle was perhaps even more depressing than the downpour. As she hauled the heavy bags up onto the terrace and let herself in through the kitchen door she noticed that no attempt had been made to set the table outside. Well, there would have been little point, they couldn’t dine in the rain.

Dumping the shopping on the kitchen table, she removed her shoes and wandered into the hall.

‘Danny! Sarah!’ she called. ‘I’m back.’ Her voice echoed through the arches that opened into the sitting and dining rooms, reverberating upwards to the solid oak beams above.

There was no response, so assuming they had gone to their separate bathrooms to shower before dinner, Louisa went back to the kitchen to start preparing their meal.

Half an hour later a succulent seafood paella, prepared by the poissonnerie at the supermarket, was warming nicely in the oven, delicious crottins of goat’s cheese were ready to sizzle in the pan and the green salad was dressed and tossed. Louisa was just wondering if she had time to go and grab a quick shower herself when Sarah and Danny came into the kitchen.

‘Hi,’ Louisa said. ‘I was beginning to think …’ She stopped, suddenly confused by the way they were dressed. ‘Are you going somewhere?’ she asked.

‘Yes, we’re going out,’ Danny answered shortly.

‘Out? But I’ve just prepared …’

‘We’re sick to death of hanging around this bloody house,’ Danny interrupted, ‘so we’re going out.’

Louisa stared at her. ‘Don’t you think you could have told me before I went to all this trouble,’ she said, looking at Sarah.

‘We didn’t even know you were back,’ Danny responded curtly. ‘You were gone so bloody long we thought …’

‘You know how long that damned supermarket takes,’ Louisa cried, dimly wondering what had happened in the time she’d been away. ‘And you can’t go out now, the food’s almost ready. Besides, I saw Jean-Claude in the lane and invited him and Didier to join us.’

‘Well that sounds a wonderful evening, doesn’t it?’ Danny retorted. ‘Us three and two gay men. Well, the pleasure can be all yours.’

‘Just a minute,’ Louisa protested, putting a hand to her head. ‘What’s going on here? Why are you being like this? What did I do?’

Sarah and Danny looked at each other. ‘Are you going to tell her, or shall I?’ Danny said.

Sarah looked away.

Danny turned back to Louisa. ‘Quite frankly, Louisa,’ she said, ‘Sarah and I have just about had it with holding back on the things we want to do because you can’t afford it. We’ve offered to pay for you, but since you so stubbornly refuse to let us we don’t see why we should deprive ourselves too. So we’re going out for dinner and then on to Parady’z in Monaco.’

‘We appreciate the fact that you have to stick to your budget,’ Sarah said awkwardly, ‘and of course you can come with us if you like, but the idea of hanging around here for another evening …’ Her voice trailed off.

‘I see,’ Louisa said, hoping she didn’t look as hurt as she felt. ‘Well, far be it from me to stop you enjoying yourselves. I hope you have a nice time.’

‘Thank you,’ Danny said. ‘We hope you do too.’

‘Why don’t you come?’ Sarah said.

‘No, thank you.’

‘You see, it’s always the same,’ Danny said crossly. ‘We’ve been cooped up here for two fucking weeks doing next to nothing and that’s still all she wants to do.’

‘I don’t believe you’re saying that!’ Louisa cried. ‘We’ve been out! We went …’

‘To all those horrendous B-B-Q’s, yes I know. While they might be your idea of fun, they’re certainly not mine.’

‘Come on, Danny, ease up,’ Sarah said. ‘It’s not Louisa’s fault things aren’t turning out the way we expected. And she has been going around gathering up all the information about what’s going on here to find us something to do.’

‘And it was you, Danny, who didn’t want to do it,’ Louisa reminded her heatedly.

‘We’re not talking about visiting fucking perfume factories in Grasse,’ Danny retorted, ‘or touring the Rainier’s Palace in Monaco. God, you’re so parochial sometimes!’ she seethed, stamping her foot. ‘We’re talking about meeting people, Louisa! Going to cafés, wine bars, restaurants, places where people hang out.’

‘Have I ever said I didn’t want to do that?’

‘You’ve never said you do,’ Danny responded. ‘You’ve always seemed to prefer sitting around here playing Trivial Pursuit or plundering the ex-pat morons for material for your precious drama or disappearing off to your computer when the mood takes you.’

Louisa looked at her, for the moment too angry and too hurt to answer. Then she turned away, not wanting them to see the tears that were suddenly burning her eyes. OK, she had never suggested that they go to places as expensive as Parady’z, but nine times out of ten it was she who suggested that they at least go to one of the numerous cheaper and cosy restaurants in the village. Danny never wanted to though, because she couldn’t stand the English who frequented them. Danny preferred to stay at home where she wouldn’t be recognized and Sarah had never seemed to mind what she did. At least, that was what Louisa had thought, but obviously she had misjudged the situation.

‘Well, we’ll be off then,’ Danny said. ‘I don’t know what time we’ll be back, but lock up if you like, we’ll take another set of keys.’

‘Won’t you at least stay and have a drink with Jean-Claude and Didier?’ Louisa said.

Sarah turned to Danny. ‘We could,’ she said.

Danny looked at her watch. ‘We haven’t got time,’ she said, ‘we’ve booked the restaurant for eight, we’ll only just make it now.’

When they’d gone Louisa picked up a spoon and stirred the paella. Then pouring herself a large glass of wine she slumped down at the table, seething with anger. Of course she was embarrassed, she knew that, not having enough money to be here was even more intolerable to her than it was to the others, but to have had it thrust in her face that way was unforgivable.

She started as the telephone rang then got up to answer it, taking another sip of wine. It was Danny’s parents calling to find out how they were all getting on. Louisa assured them they were having a wonderful time, laughed and complained about the weather and told them she’d pass on their love to Danny.

When she rang off she stalked back into the kitchen, checked on the cheeses then set about laying the table. To hell with feeling sorry for herself. It would all work itself out in the morning, or at least when the damned sun came out it would, and on reflection some kind of flare-up had been on the cards for days. It was better to clear the air, let Danny get her resentment off her chest and it wasn’t so unusual for her to pick on Louisa like that. Louisa didn’t blame Sarah for going along with her, it was boring staying at home all the time, especially when they’d come here with such high expections of exotic weather and wild, extemporized parties. But if Danny thought she was going to get away with many more outbursts like that then Danny could just damned well think again! It had been different when she was the star of the series, there hadn’t been much choice then but to put up with her tantrums and try to placate her, but they were all on an equal footing now and the sooner Danny realized it the better. She’d never put up much of a fight with Danny before, but they’d never yet been in a situation where it particularly mattered …

For some reason Didier hadn’t come over for dinner, probably Jean-Claude had said why, but Louisa couldn’t remember now. All she knew was that she had probably drunk too much and was basking like some over-fed cat in the sonorous, seductive tones of Jean-Claude’s beautifully accented English while watching the lines around his humorous blue eyes deepen as he smiled.

‘And you ’ave to realize,’ he was saying, ‘that Marcia, ’ow you call ’er, Name-Drop? as insufferable as she is, is lonely. She never ’ad any children so she tries now to make us all ’er children.’

‘Heaven forbid,’ Louisa shuddered, making him laugh. ‘How many children do you have?’

‘I ’ave two. My son, ’e is twenty-nine and my daughter, Lili, she is twenty-seven and will be a mother next month. They both live in Paris, not far from their mother.’

‘Is it because of Didier that your wife is divorcing you?’ Louisa asked.

‘Yes. And also why my daughter will no longer see me. My son, ’e ’as to see me because I must be in touch with what ’appens at the bureau, but ’e is not ’appy with my love for a boy who is younger than ’im.’ He laughed. ‘It is not a question of age, of course, it is because Didier is male. And you, beautiful Louisa, does it give you a problem?’

Louisa laughed softly and reached out for his hand. The way she felt about Jean-Claude was the way she’d always imagined feeling about a father or an older brother. ‘Not at all,’ she assured him. ‘Maybe it should, but it doesn’t.’

‘Why should it?’ he asked, confused.

‘Because, well, I suppose I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find you attractive.’

Linking her fingers through his Jean-Claude said, ‘Didier thought you might, that is why ’e would not come this evening. ’e saw your friends leaving and told me ’e would not come to spoil things for me. I told him ’e was silly, but ’e would not come. ’e thinks that still I want to make love with a woman, but as beautiful as you are, Louisa, that is no longer so. Do I offend you?’

‘No,’ Louisa smiled. ‘Not at all.’

With their fingers still entwined they sat quietly, companionably, for a while, each with their own thoughts, until Louisa laughed.

‘Why do you laugh?’ he asked curiously.

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she answered. ‘Maybe because I feel happy. Happier than I have in a long time. Now how have you managed to do that to me when I hardly even know you?’

‘I think the wine, ’e ’elp a little,’ he teased. ‘But what about your boyfriend, did ’e not make you ’appy?’

‘Sometimes, yes.’

‘Did you love ’im very much?’

‘I think so, at first. But looking back I think we’d grown apart long before we broke up. What about you, did you love your wife?’

‘Yes. I still do, but she doesn’t understand that I can love ’er when I can love Didier. But of course I love ’er in a different way now. She is a remarkable woman, I ’ope she meets someone who can make ’er more ’appy. And you?’ he said. ‘Will you meet someone who will make you more ’appy?’

‘I don’t know,’ Louisa sighed. ‘I’ve never really been able to get it right with men.’

‘Mmm, it is ’ard, this business of love,’ he sighed, but his eyes were dancing. ‘Even when it comes we can never be sure ’ow long it will stay. Sometimes it just checks in for the night, sometimes it arrives with all its baggage for a ’oliday and sometimes it brings no baggage and stays for always. It is a crazy thing, so unpredictable, sometimes so painful, but would any of us be without it?’

‘I don’t know,’ Louisa answered solemnly. ‘Sometimes I think I would.’ She smiled and squeezed his hand. ‘But don’t let’s talk about that. Tell me some more about you. Tell me what you do with yourself down here. Where do you go, who do you see?’

He chuckled. ‘Would I be boasting if I told you I ’ave so many friends that I ’ide from them? They all want to visit from Paris, from Genève, from London, from America, from all over. I say yes only to the special ones or I should never ’ave any peace. Didier ’e is very ’appy when there are lot of people in the ’ouse, but I am not so young any more. I like to be quiet sometimes and think and read and do things old men like doing.’

‘How old are you exactly?’ Louisa laughed.

‘Fifty-eight. Old huh?’

‘Very,’ she answered gravely and he gave a shout of laughter.

Seated as they were in the warm glow of candlelight at one end of the long dining table, with the high beamed ceiling lost in shadow overhead and the spacious sitting room enclosed in darkness beyond, there seemed such a sleepy intimacy about the small space they occupied that only the occasional echo of their laughter reminded them of the rambling openness of the house.

‘I am sorry that your friends were unkind to you tonight,’ he said.

‘Oh, it doesn’t matter,’ Louisa shrugged, embarrassed now that she’d told him. ‘We’ll make it up, it was just the weather getting us all down.’

‘Ah, yes, that I can understand. It is not normally like this. Maybe it rains for a few days, but …’

They both looked round and blinked as suddenly the front door opened and the hall was flooded with light.

‘Oh my God,’ Sarah gasped, seeing the candlelight, half empty wine glasses and joined hands. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize …’ She bumped forward as Danny came in behind her, telling her to get a move on.

‘Oh shit!’ Danny muttered, her eyes widening with astonishment as she saw Louisa and Jean-Claude holding hands. ‘Oh, God, what timing. Look, we’re sorry. We’ll go out and come back again,’ and grabbing Sarah by the arm she made to drag her outside.

‘It’s all right,’ Louisa laughed. ‘You don’t have to go. Danny! Come back!’

Danny and Sarah stopped, looking uncertainly over their shoulders.

‘We’ll just go straight to bed,’ Sarah declared. ‘We won’t interrupt you a moment longer. Oh the light! Sorry,’ and hurriedly she flicked off the overhead light.

‘It is all right, I think maybe we need the light to see our way into the kitchen,’ Jean-Claude laughed, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin and getting to his feet.

‘Oh, you don’t need to do that,’ Louisa told him. ‘I’ll clear away.’

‘No, no!’ Danny cried. ‘Why don’t you two go and make yourselves more comfortable somewhere and we’ll clear away.’

Louisa and Sarah gaped at her, dumbfounded.

‘We will?’ Sarah said stupidly, then, as Danny nudged her, ‘We will! Of course we will.’

Louisa caught Jean-Claude’s eye and both of them burst out laughing.

‘I think it is time I was leaving,’ he said, taking Louisa by the shoulders. ‘Thank you for a wonderful dinner, I look forward to returning the favour, soon.’

‘Well, what was all that about?’ Danny laughed incredulously as Louisa closed the door behind Jean-Claude. ‘I thought he was gay.’

‘He is. We were just holding hands, nothing else.’

‘Mmm, looked pretty intimate to me,’ Sarah commented.

‘Well it wasn’t. So what are you two doing back so soon, I wasn’t expecting you until the early hours.’

‘We’re back,’ Danny answered, ‘because neither of us could finish our meal we felt so mean about the way we’d treated you.’

‘So we came back to say we’re sorry;’ Sarah added.

‘It was all my fault,’ Danny went on. ‘I’m a spoiled, selfish, egotistical, nasty, spiteful bitch, who took it out on you because it was raining.’

‘And I’m just as bad for listening to her,’ Sarah declared.

‘But we’re taking you wherever you want to go tomorrow night for a slap-up meal to try to make up for it,’ Danny continued. ‘And we’re not having any arguments.’

‘No, no arguments,’ Sarah insisted. ‘And you’re also relieved from cooking duties for the next week, Danny and I will share them.’

Louisa’s eyebrows were raised, her eyes were dancing with mischief. ‘It’ll do for starters,’ she said. ‘You do remember where the dishwasher is, don’t you, Cinders has a headache so she’s off to bed.’

‘The hell you are!’ Danny cried. ‘You’re not going anywhere until you’ve told us all there is to tell about Maurice Chavalier. Is he gay or isn’t he?’

‘You know he is. And apparently it’s how he managed to shake Mrs Name-Drop, by telling her that he and Didier were lovers. As you can no doubt imagine, she didn’t want them anywhere near her B-B-Qs after that.’

Danny turned to Sarah.

‘Don’t look at me,’ Sarah cried backing away. ‘I’m not pretending to be gay just to get Mrs Name-Drop off your back.’

‘Why not? It would get the dog off yours,’ Danny responded.

‘Yeah, well, I might just prefer him,’ Sarah said, turning up her nose as she looked Danny over. ‘Anyway, let’s get on with what we really came back for.’

‘You mean it wasn’t to apologize to me?’ Louisa challenged.

‘Of course it was, but we also decided that it was about time we did something about this godawful situation down here. We might not be able to change the weather, but our social lives we can. At least we think we can. Between us, you, Danny and I are going to do what we should have done before we left London and that’s call up everyone we know who has a house down here or might know someone who has a house here who could be worth getting to know. Because, what we reckon is that the in-people are a pretty exclusive bunch and we need some introductions. OK?’

‘OK,’ Louisa said. ‘I’ll have to rack my brains a bit, but I expect I’ll come up with someone. My guess is Jean-Claude could come up with even more.’

Sarah nodded. ‘Mmm, just so long as they’re not all gay. Anyway, Danny’s going first because she knows the most people. Got your black book, kiddo? Then get dialling.’

Danny was on the point of picking up the phone when suddenly it rang.

‘Hello?’ she said. ‘Oh hi, Jean-Claude, yes she’s right here.’

Louisa turned back from the kitchen as Danny put her hand over the receiver and mouthed, ‘are you sure he’s gay?’

Rolling her eyes Louisa took the receiver. ‘Hi, Jean-Claude,’ she said.

‘I ’ope I am not calling too late,’ he said, ‘but I want you to go outside and look at the sky.’

‘The sky?’ Louisa said, looking curiously at Danny and Sarah.

‘Can you take the phone to the terrace?’ he asked.

‘Yes, it’s a radio phone,’ Louisa answered, walking around the dining table to the french windows. ‘OK,’ she said, stepping out onto the terrace, ‘I’m looking at the sky.’

‘And what do you see?’

‘I see stars, lots of stars and a moon, is it a blue moon?’

He laughed. ‘Yes, it is a blue moon, but do you not find something unusual about the stars?’

Louisa was working very hard to try to remember the constellations, but wasn’t having much success. ‘Unusual in what way?’ she asked.

‘You can see them,’ Jean-Claude chuckled. ‘That is what is unusual. It is the first time we ’ave seen them for over two weeks. Do you understand what this means?’

Louisa had already broken into a smile. ‘It means there are no clouds.’

‘That’s right. Tomorrow I think will be a fine day.’

‘Yes,’ Louisa said, turning back to Danny and Sarah, ‘I think it will.’

‘So maybe now your life down ’ere begins at last.’