Carrie sighed. ‘I think I’ll wait until I’ve at least got the divorce under way. It sounds pathetic not being able to divorce your own husband because you have no idea of how to get hold of him. I’ve checked – you can’t do anything without an address.’
‘How are you going to get that?’
‘He’s here.’
With an almost involuntary movement, Angela checked the corners of the room.
‘Not here, here, you noodle. In France.’ Carrie took a swig of wine. ‘Filming on the Riviera.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, for the next two months.’
‘The Riviera’s quite big you know, it stretches all the way up to Monaco, about a hundred miles.’ Angela had been reading guidebooks from the library for the last two weeks with the intensity of a student cramming for finals.
‘I know but, stroke of luck, the man in the car-hire place told me some of the places they’ll be filming. And one is down the road from here.’
‘What are you going to do? Camp out there, until they show up? How will you know where to find the film people? And will he even be there? How will you find him?’
‘He’ll be in the biggest trailer,’ said Carrie flippantly.
‘But what if you don’t find him?’
‘Then I’ve lost nothing. It’s not as if I’ve got a better place to start. Besides the car-hire man said they were filming in a market near here, Ramatuelle. All I have to do is go and hang out on market day.’
And when is market day?
Carrie grinned. ‘Thursday and Ramatuelle is the next village.’
‘What this Thursday, as in two days’ time, Thursday?’
‘Well, I don’t know if they’ll be filming this week, but I figure it can’t hurt to keep visiting each week until they do turn up. Besides, I thought the tourist office would know if there’s a film crew on the loose, especially with a star as big as Richard.’
‘Smart thinking. Very smart.’
Dust motes danced in the brilliant beams of sunshine that streamed in around the edges of the drapes. Carrie couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face. With delicious anticipation she lay in bed for a few minutes, wondering what lay beyond the curtains, before padding across the floor and flinging them open, her eyes blinking into the high sun.
Squinting until they grew accustomed to the intensity of the light, she drank in the view. What a clever, clever design. Her corner balcony hung over the incline, where the hill fell away, leaving the sensation of being on a platform suspended above the valley. Ahead of her, in the still morning air, she could see the curve of green hills, interspersed with glimpses of hidden properties among the wooded slopes and beyond that the sea, azure-blue sparkling with white-crested waves.
Sitting down on the terracotta-tiled floor, nicely warm already, she slipped a leg each between the bars, letting them dangle, swinging each leg in opposition, with the sheer pleasure of being able to do nothing but please herself and pretend that she was almost in mid-air. It had almost been so long, she’d forgotten the simple and unique pleasure of the sun kissing her limbs. She leaned back on her arms, tilting her face upwards, like a flower.
‘Carrie! Carrie! Over here?’ Jade’s excited voice came from the terrace. ‘There’s a pool down here and everything.’
She waved lazily, wondering quite what ‘everything’ entailed.
‘You’ve got to come down and see it. Mum’s made breakfast and there’s an outdoor table. Come on.’
With a sigh Carrie hauled herself to her feet. Plenty of time of peace and solitude in the next few weeks.
‘Good morning.’ Angela, of course, had laid the table. Before Carrie even sat down, her sister picked up a cafetière brimming coffee, the grounds at the top almost frothing over the lip of the glass.
‘Coffee,’ groaned Carrie, ‘that smells amazing.’
She sniffed and clutched the cup to her. ‘Bliss. Did you sleep well?’
‘Ish. I woke up early. Strange bed.’
‘Carrie, Carrie come and see the pool.’ Relinquishing her coffee and charmed by her niece’s sudden childlike enthusiasm, she joined her at the poolside. For once Jade didn’t have a scrap of make-up and was still in her pyjama shorts and vest top. She looked her age for once, without that world-weary smartarse cynicism she often adopted.
‘Isn’t it awesome?’
Carrie laid an arm across her shoulder and took in the view, the pool in the foreground, with its red-and-white stripy, padded sun loungers and the low, lean lines of the house in the background. ‘Absolutely. Awesome.’
Replete with croissant and coffee, Carrie sat on the edge of the pool, her legs stretched out in the sun watching Jade dipping her toes in the water and shrieking with the cold and begging her to come in.
After breakfast, they settled in the sun loungers, sticky with sun cream, smelling slightly of coconut. Jade plugged herself into her phone, lying prone on one of the sun loungers, in outsize Jackie Onassis sunglasses, holding the screen up to read out periodic text messages of sheer envy from her friends. Delighted with the stash of cookery books she’d commandeered, Angela sat in the shade with a note pad, scribbling things down and occasionally tearing off a strip of paper and tucking it into the pages and asking random questions, such as ‘Have you ever had duck à l’orange?’ and ‘What do you think of bouillabaisse?’
‘Did you know Kim Kardashian has three hundred and eighteen pairs of shoes?’ announced Jade, reading from the screen on her phone. ‘That’s mad.’
Carrie tried to concentrate on next year’s drama text, wondering how on earth she was going to interest her Year 10s of the political depths of the play and the tragic characters of Mother Courage and her children, when they were more concerned with the antics of a mad American family, rich idiots in one of London’s wealthiest suburbs and has-beens in a pretend jungle.
‘Eeuw! That bloke from Towie got a new tattoo on his you-know-where.’
The day set a pattern of lazing on the patio by the pool, occasionally retreating into the kitchen to get more soft drinks.
Over dinner, cooked by Angela, as happy in the kitchen as out by the pool, they talked about their plans for the rest of the week.
‘The lovely thing about being here all this time, is there’s no rush to do anything,’ said Angela. ‘I don’t feel the least bit guilty for not going off and exploring.’
‘We’ve got to go to some of the famous places, though,’ said Jade. ‘I want to tell my friends I’ve been to St Tropez. Do you think we could blag our way onto one of those big yachts?’
‘I doubt it very much,’ said Angela, putting a bowl of salad on the table, alongside a platter of garlic-cooked prawns gleaming pink in their shells.
‘Mmm, those smell heavenly.’ Carrie’s stomach let out a yowl of support, making Jade and Angela giggle.
‘Sorry.’ She rubbed at her middle.
‘Sounds like Chewbacca on heat,’ said Jade. ‘What’s the plan for tomorrow?’
Angela and Carrie exchanged a quick glance.
‘Let’s play it by ear and see how we feel,’ suggested Angela. ‘We’ve got this lovely pool and it’s so peaceful. I’d