| |
Beth saw the ivy-clad restaurant before she realised she was in Neuf-Marché. She’d been so distracted, she must have missed the sign, if there’d been one. A glance at the satnav confirmed she’d arrived.
She pulled the Golf into a quiet residential street and switched off the engine. She’d lost track of time and glanced at her watch. It was quarter past twelve in the afternoon. Sliding her leather shoulder bag up her arm, Beth got out of the car and took in her drizzly surroundings. It was chilly and she walked to the high street, pulling her tan Bella jacket tighter. The short heels of her matching suede boots crunched on the narrow gravelled pavement, and the mist of her breath hung about her face.
Her eyes settled on the steeple of the St Pierre Church. Beth had glanced at it as she and Luc had driven through the village in the past, but they’d never stopped there. She didn’t want to walk straight into the restaurant. If Maryse greeted her, she hadn’t decided how she would proceed.
Would she pretend she was already a friend of Rae’s and ask where she could contact her? She preferred to be honest, even if she had to tell her exactly why she wanted to speak to her.
Intending to do a brief circuit of the village while she deliberated over her best approach, she headed towards the steeple, walking to the end of the side street to cross the road to where a few people were standing outside a delicatessen. She had to pause at the kerb to allow a lorry to trundle past, however, and in that moment Beth turned right and strode to the entrance of Auberge du pont before she could change her mind.
Inside, the smell of coffee and pastries draped itself over her. Two overweight men in overalls were stacking crates of beer at the side of the wooden bar. Due to the large mirrors on the walls, the restaurant looked much bigger than it did from the outside, and tables stretched back to another bar at the rear. A few diners were dotted about. The lighting was subdued and a selection of musical instruments hung down from hooks in the ceiling. A muted clarinet played through a speaker somewhere.
An attractive, dark-haired and petite girl in a linen blouse and black skirt appeared from behind the two men and smiled warmly at Beth through heavy make-up. “Puis-je vous aider, madame?”
“Maryse Plourde?”
The girl’s beam remained, but her eyes warily searched first Beth’s shaved head and then the scars on her chin. “Oui. Un moment.”
Beth had expected Maryse not to be there and to have to spend the day drinking endless cups of coffee until she arrived for her shift. She watched the waitress disappear through a door behind the bar. The two men stacking crates turned in unison and smiled perfunctorily at her before returning to their work.
Maryse emerged from behind the bar. She was much taller and athletically built than Beth had expected from her profile picture. Her crimped hair was tied up and now dyed straw blonde, but her features were unmistakable. She’d borrowed the first waitress’s cagey smile. “Bonjour,” she said uncertainly.
“Bonjour. Parlez-vous anglais?”
Maryse nodded quickly. “A little.”
“I’m trying to find somebody. I realise your time is valuable but all I need is a contact number or address...”
Maryse’s eyes glazed and she shook her head. “Slowly.” She smiled again and gestured towards a nearby table.
Beth took a deep breath and followed her. As Maryse seated herself, Beth considered the best way of cutting to the chase. She remained standing and took her iPhone out of her shoulder bag. She’d been avoiding the devices since seeing the clips, but Jody had set a new one up for her and persuaded her to bring it. She recognised the irony of using it now.
Maryse looked guardedly at the device while Beth found the YouTube clip. She dragged the slider to just before the helicopter taking off and paused it on the image of Rae with Luc. Planting it in front of Maryse she pointed at the paramedic. “Rae Salomon?”
Maryse glanced up at her and her features immediately hardened. “You are police?”
“No.” She pointed to Luc. “My husband. Mon mari.”
Maryse returned her attention to the paused clip again and Beth touched play. She didn’t take her eyes from the iPhone, even when it had ended.
“Maybe you’ve seen this before?”
Maryse nodded.
“Can you understand why I must speak with your friend?”
Maryse looked up at Beth. “Such terrible... tragedy.”
“Yes. My husband didn’t survive.” It still felt strange hearing herself say it. “Do you know where I can find Rae?”
“No.” Maryse closed her eyes momentarily, as if she’d find the words better in the dark. She opened them again. “Tragedy after this...to Rae...” She shook her head for effect.
“Rae’s... dead?”
Maryse nodded.
