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At that moment, she heard her name called, and turned to see Julie Phillips approaching across the grass.
Joa
‘Chris has taken him down to the village.’ Julie sat down beside her, shading her eyes from the sun. ‘He wanted to buy something for his mother from that little pottery shop.’ She sighed. ‘I can hardly believe our week is up. And, would you believe, we’re almost sorry to be going home. For which we have you to thank, of course.’
‘That’s nonsense,’ Joa
She’d been waiting to buy some stamps when she’d overheard the clearly distressed young couple protesting to an unsympathetic desk clerk about the hotel’s policy of barring babies and young children from the restaurant after seven p.m.
As their French was clearly minimal, she’d helped translate for them, even though their objections were ultimately met with a shrug of complete indifference.
They’d adjourned to the terrace bar for coffee, where Joa
A fire had resulted in a grudging upgrade to the St Gregoire.
‘But we felt from the moment we got here yesterday that they didn’t really want us.’ Julie had said. ‘They made a fuss about putting a cot in the bungalow, told us there was no babysitting service, then dropped the bombshell about the restaurant. If we wanted to eat there, we had to have the special children’s supper at six.’
She’d sighed. ‘We’re just so disappointed with it all. It isn’t a bit as we’d hoped. Now we feel we simply want to go home.’
Joa
But the St Gregoire had accepted this family, however reluctantly, and it was totally unfair to prevent them sampling the culinary delights on offer in the restaurant.
She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve had an idea,’ she said. ‘We—I—never have di
There was a silence, then Julie said, ‘No, we couldn’t ask you. Couldn’t impose like that.’
‘I’d love to do it.’ Joa
Husband and wife exchanged glances, then Chris leaned forward, his pleasant, freckled face serious.
‘Well, if you really mean it, we’d be endlessly grateful. We were actually going to find out today how much it would cost to cut our losses and fly home.’
‘Oh, you can’t do that.’ Joa
The final details of the arrangement were hammered out there and then. Julie assured her that Matt was a good sleeper who rarely woke in the evenings, but that she’d leave a bottle ready just in case. In return Joa
And on that they’d shaken hands on the deal.
Denys had received the news with far less amiability.
‘What the hell are you thinking of?’ he demanded incredulously. ‘Who are these people?’
‘A sweet couple with a nice baby they can’t take into the restaurant for di
‘Then why don’t they order room service, or switch from di
Joa
‘Because you might be seen, and there could be talk. You’re not here as some kind of domestic help, Joa
‘No,’ she said. ‘But strangely I find I prefer it. And, whatever you say, I’ve promised. They’re nice people, very different to those I usually have to mix with these days, and I have no intention of letting them down.’
It was a decision she hadn’t regretted once, not even on the rare occasions when Matt had woken and grizzled. That brief hour or so in the lamp-lit peace of the bungalow’s small terrace had become a welcome refuge.
A blissful break before she had to be on show, pretending to be someone else, she thought now with an inward sigh.
She said, ‘I shall really miss my baby-watch.’
‘Like an aching tooth,’ Julie laughed. ‘But surely you’ll be leaving soon yourself, won’t you?’
Joa
‘Well, think about us slaving away in the UK while you’re still living in the lap of luxury.’
Joa
Julie stared at her, her bright face suddenly troubled. ‘Are you really so unhappy?’ she asked gently.
‘No, no, of course not.’ Joa
Julie got to her feet. ‘Well, if you want my opinion, you should become a na
‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ Joa
‘And as for wanting to get out of here,’ Julie went on, ‘my gran always says, “Be careful what you wish for, because you might get it.” So watch yourself, and please don’t get whisked away before di
Joa
Alone again, she returned to her book but found it difficult to concentrate. Julie’s suggestion that she might become a professional na
She knew that Uncle Martin would get her back to the UK if she asked for his help.
But Dad needs me, she thought. He said so from the start. Things were going well for him then. So how can I desert him when the going’s got tough?
She collected her things together, put on her tunic, and began to stroll back towards the hotel. She hadn’t gone far when she spotted the hotel manager heading towards her, looking harassed and talking volubly, hands waving, to a plump middle-aged man with a swarthy skin and heavy moustache who was walking beside him, expensively dressed in a silk suit.
And Monsieur Levaux is the last person I need to run into right now, Joa
She turned swiftly away, taking a narrower path to the right which circled the gardens and led out onto a small promontory beyond.
As usual, she had it to herself. Few of the guests ventured far from the pool, the beach or the various bars.
She lifted her face to meet the slight breeze from the sea as she walked across the tussocks of grass to the farthest point, and looked out over the rippling azure water.
The big yacht was still there, riding at anchor like a dignified swan, with small boats circling it like inquisitive ducklings.
On impulse, Joa