Lawrence said, “Hello, Antoine.”
“You’re looking well,” the other man said.
Still no sign of those dueling pistols. “Thanks. You too. May I offer you a drink?”
Antoine inclined his head. “A small cognac. Thank you.” He hesitated, then added, “I’ll be staying here at the hotel for a while, so we may as well be civilized. It’s been wonderful seeing Dot again. We’ve had an excellent evening, haven’t we?”
“Fantastic,” Dot said happily. “And the food at the Rose was great too. I had the most amazing scallops in Pernod.”
“You and your scallops.” Lawrence smiled, because she’d always had a thing for them. What he really wanted to say was, What does that mean? You had a fantastic time with the smooth Frenchman and the food was great too?
But if he did, it was unlikely to go down well. Instead he forced another pleasant smile and said, “Well, glad the food was good. D’you remember that lunch we had at Gidleigh Park?” Turning to Antoine, he explained, “I took Dot there on her birthday last year. Now that was a meal to remember.”
“You didn’t take me there on my birthday,” said Dot. “It was the following weekend.”
“But that’s what we were celebrating,” Lawrence reminded her. “And it was worth it, wasn’t it? Spectacular place,” he told Antoine. “The chef has two Michelin stars.”
“Ah.” Antoine nodded. “Michael Caines. I’ve heard great things about him and his restaurant. If you recommend it so highly,” he said to Lawrence, “maybe I should take Dot there too.”
Bastard, bastard. “Absolutely. I warn you, though, it’s pretty pricey.”
“That won’t be a problem, I assure you,” Antoine said with a brief smile.
“And what Lawrence isn’t mentioning is the reason it ended up being so pricey,” Dot chimed in. “Basically, because he was too vain to wear his reading glasses.”
Oh shit. “Don’t—”
“He looked at the wine list and decided he liked the sound of the Perrier-Jouet Belle Epoque 2004.” Dot wasn’t to be stopped. “Didn’t realize thirty-five pounds was for a glass of the stuff, not a bottle.”
Thanks, darling.
“For Perrier-Jouet Belle Epoque 2004.” Antoine was now visibly struggling to keep a straight face.
Lawrence said defensively, “I’m not that wild about champagne. I don’t read up on it.”
“Clearly not. Anyway, thank you for the drink.” Antoine paused, then raised his cognac glass. “Your health.”
Which was either a simple salutation or a Mafia-style warning to make the most of his health while he still had it.
“Santé,” Lawrence murmured, before taking a drink. “So, are you here for long?” Please say no.
“Haven’t decided yet. Just seeing how things go. I’m working on a movie score at the moment, but that’s the joy of computers. These days you can create music anywhere you like. And when I’m not doing that,” Antoine said pleasantly, “I can enjoy my free time in Cornwall, take a look around, see how the place has changed.” Briefly resting his fingertips on Dot’s waist, he added, “And I have an expert offering to accompany me, which makes it even better.”
This evening wasn’t turning out at all as Lawrence had planned.
“It’s still warm out on the terrace.” Dot was smiling up at Antoine. “Shall we go and sit outside?” She glanced across at Lawrence. “You’re welcome to join us if you like.”
Said in such a way that it was blindingly obvious she was only being polite.
“Thank you,” said Lawrence. “So kind, but I’ll leave you to it.” A part of him wanted to acknowledge the past, to apologize to Antoine for what he’d done, but he’d tried before, without success. It had, in fact, only made an intolerable situation worse. Which meant that this evening, here in this hotel, it was immeasurably easier to avoid the subject.
Sometimes the right words simply refused to present themselves.
Sometimes an apology wasn’t—could never be—enough.
Antoine Beauvais hopefully understood that.
“I owe you a drink,” he said now. “Let me get—”
“No, no, not necessary.” Lawrence was firm as he put down his half-finished glass of wine. “I have to go. You enjoy the rest of your evening.”
Dot, sashaying out onto the terrace with Antoine in tow, said gaily, “Don’t worry, we will!”
***
The car pulled up outside the flat just before eleven the next morning. Sophie looked out of the window and felt her heart do a Pavlovian skip of pleasure.
Okay, this was something she was going to have to keep an eye on. Enjoying someone’s company was one thing, but it mustn’t be allowed to get out of hand.
Then again, anyone with half a brain would agree that spending the day with Josh was preferable to being stuck with some stranger who chewed gum with their mouth open and was bored to tears with doing a job they hadn’t volunteered for.
Just stay in control and everything’ll be fine…
“Morning. How are you feeling?” Josh followed her into the flat.
“Better than last night.” Possibly because she’d taken more painkillers. “Thanks for doing this.”
“No problem. Tell me everything you need to take with you and I’ll start loading up the car.”
For the next few minutes Sophie pointed out the bags and cases of equipment and waited in the hallway while he carried them outside. It had taken ten minutes to ease herself out of bed this morning; a long day at work was the last thing she needed, but she’d do it if it killed her.
Although hopefully it wouldn’t.
The sun was out; it was a warm and breezy day with cotton-wool clouds scudding across the sky. “It’s the opening of a new restaurant in St. Austell,” she told Josh as they sped across country toward the south coast. “I’m taking photos of the place itself, then the food being prepared in the kitchen, plus pictures of the staff; that’s for the brochures and the website. Then there’s the party in the evening, with local dignitaries and as many glamorous guests as they can rustle up, and those photos are going to be published alongside a piece about the restaurant in one of those lifestyle magazines.”
“Which is why you couldn’t let them down,” said Josh.
“It’s a big deal for me,” Sophie said candidly. “I didn’t want to miss out on a chance like this. Those kinds of magazines usually use their own photographers. If I do a good job, they might hire me again.”
“Let’s hope you do a good job, then.”
“I will. I always do.”
“Modest.”
“Focused and professional,” said Sophie.
“All work and no play…”
“Call me dull if you want. I don’t care. This is the career I’ve always dreamed of and making it work is my number one priority. I’m not going to do anything to risk messing it up.”
“I can see that.” Josh nodded. “And what did you do before setting up the business?”
“Worked in a call center.”
“Right.”
“Exactly. It wasn’t my dream job. But I saved every penny, started buying photographic equipment, and learned as much as I could. And I’ve gotten this far,” said Sophie. “I’m doing okay. Plenty of satisfied customers who recommend me to their friends. You can’t understand how much that means to me.”
They were driving across Bodmin Moor, miles of uninterrupted countryside empty of people and golden with gorse. Josh slowed the car as they encountered a flock of sheep wandering like indolent teenagers across the narrow, winding road ahead of them.
“What?” said Sophie, aware that he’d turned his head and was watching her.
Josh’s eyes were glinting with amusement. Finally he said, “You’re definitely not dull.”
***
The restaurant, Pierrot, was done in shades of bottle green and deep purple, with white-painted floors and sleek, modern tables. The lighting was an eclectic mix of futuristic spotlights and antique French candelabras. The owners, Maddy and Max, had thrown all their money into the venture and were in a frenzy of excitement that the launch date had finally arrived.
“This is Josh, my assistant,” Sophie told them. “He’s untrained but willing to learn. I had a bit of an accident yesterday, put my back out. That’s why he’s here.”
“Poor you,” Maddy exclaimed. “And look at your poor face!”
“I know,” Sophie said with a grin. “But try not to stare at him. He can’t help it.”
***
After the initial setting up, the next couple hours were spent on photographing various aspects of the restaurant, the staff, and the food being prepared in the kitchens. At three o’clock they stopped for a break outside.
“I could get used to this,” said Sophie. “Sitting back and bossing you around, making you do all the hard work.”
“That’s what I used to do with the kids from Go Destry.” Josh shielded his eyes from the sun. “Drink coffee, watch them perform, tell them what they needed to do to be better. Easy money.”
Sophie smiled, because on their way over here, they’d talked about his time managing the band and it had been anything but easy.
“Good news!” Maddy emerged through the French windows clutching her phone and doing a little victory dance. “I didn’t want to jinx it so I didn’t say anything before, but we’ve just had the call to confirm it’s happening. Perry Elson’s coming along to the party!”
“Ooh.” Sophie was impressed. “The actor?”
“He’s a friend of a friend, over from the States for a few days and staying in the area. It’ll up the coverage no end.” Maddy’s eyes were shining. “People will be that much more interested in a place if they think celebs like him have been here. And we’ve got him for a whole hour.” She beamed excitedly. “You’ll have to take loads of photos of him.”
Sophie conjured up a mental image of the young actor, who had starred in a couple of unexpectedly successful films last year and fell into the category of fast-rising star still new enough to appreciate it. He was intelligent, quirkily attractive, as yet unspoiled by fame, and universally considered one of the good guys.
Since it would be fun to photograph someone properly famous, she said, “Don’t worry, I will.”