Page 94 of One Last Thing
‘Let’s find her. She might be looking for us,’ he says, reaching for my hand and taking it before navigating us through the crowd to go towards the back, looking out for my mum as we weave through people happy to move out the way.
As we get further from the beach, the gaps get bigger and it’s easier to get a good view of everyone gathered. I hear Nico go, ‘Ah!’ and then he spins round to smile at me. ‘I see her. She’s with my aunt and—’ he hesitates as he turns back to look ‘—and also my uncle!’
‘Mathieu is here?’ I say, surprised. ‘You didn’t tell me he was coming.’
‘I didn’t know,’ he says, brightening. ‘This is great.’
As he leads me towards them, I notice that the three of them are huddled together at the back and they’re deep in conversation, almost oblivious to the remarkable fireworks display happening right over their heads. As glittering golden sparkles erupt overhead, bathing their faces in a light glow, I realise it’s not just a deep conversation but a heated one. Françoise’s expression is twisted with anger as she talks to Mathieu, who appears unaffected by her obvious rage. Mum, in the middle of the two of them, seems to be trying to diffuse the argument, her hands up as she interjects calmly before being swiftly ignored. I glance up at Nico in concern and find his initial excitement at seeing his uncle has vanished. He’s crestfallen, approaching the three of them with worried apprehension.
They don’t notice us coming. We’re in earshot of them now. Mathieu is saying something in French to Françoise, too quick for me to understand, but the exasperation and animosity from his tone is easy to translate. Françoise begins to speak over him until Mum cuts in once again to say, ‘Look, please, tell him what you like and how you like, but Mathieu, all she is asking is that you wait until we’re gone. I told her that I’d like Megan to hear it from me and if you tell Nico now—’
‘Tell me what?’ Nico says.
The three of them snap their heads up to look at us in horror. Mum closes her eyes for a moment. I feel nervous watching them. Like when you confront a group of people who have been talking about you behind your back and you’re dreading finding out what they have to say, but it’s impossible not to know.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask, scanning their faces as they shift in discomfort.
‘Nico,’ Mathieu croaks, flustered and sweating, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come last night—’
‘What do you have to tell me?’ Nico asks again bluntly.
Mathieu looks to Françoise for help, but she looks defeated, head bowed, expression sullen. I return my attention to Mum, who is watching me now. Something about the way she’s looking at me makes me think she wants me to push for an answer.
‘Mum, what did you want me to hear from you?’
She smiles weakly at me, apprehensive but ready. It’s all there in her face.
‘It should be me who tells you the real reason I left your father,’ she answers, before the crowd cheers at a change in the song and blue, white and red swirls of stars appear above us. ‘And why I never thought I’d come back here.’
33
DAWN
2011: Fifteen years ago
I can understand why Nico and Megan suggested this beach bar in Saint-Cyprien for our final day today. It is heaving with people, mostly young people –I think Françoise and I are amongst the oldest in here –and there’s a DJ set up in the corner by the bar blasting out dance tracks while they all dance on the sand in their swimsuits, sipping elaborate piña coladas and having a fabulous time. Françoise was also clearly none the wiser about whatever special party event was scheduled here today and is sitting with me at our table, having finished a delicious lunch, a feast of fresh fish accompanied by a rosé from the chateau vineyard that they serve here, now surrounded by dancing scantily clad teenagers.
Nico and Megan have gone for a swim in the sea and I can make out their heads bobbing in the distance. Megan is swimming out further, Nico following suit.
‘Do you think Mathieu knew about this event when he booked us this lunch?’ I ask Françoise, who adjusts her sunglasses daintily as the DJ bellows something into the microphone that makes the crowd erupt into cheers.
She shakes her head. ‘We’ve been here so many times, it’s usually very calm.’
‘I remember,’ I say, chuckling. ‘It’s one of my favourites.’
‘When he suggested last night at dinner that we go out for lunch today, it was Nico and Megan who picked this bar. They were laughing.’ She shoots me a smile. ‘Now we know why.’
‘Very sly. I’m actually impressed,’ I remark, watching them out in the water. ‘It’s probably a good thing. At least we’ll be entertained here for the day.’
‘I hope Henry is all right.’
‘Me too. I don’t want him to miss our final dinner tonight. I’m sure he’ll be fine. He gets these pains from time to time. A day of rest will sort him out. He has overdone it this week as usual.’
‘He’s not very good at relaxing,’ she agrees.
‘Probably why he loves the chateau so much. There’s always plenty to do.’
I reach for my glass of water, taking a sip and hoping that Françoise hasn’t noticed any lingering resentment threaded through my words. Henry was right in some respects. I’m happy to be here, it’s a beautiful place, and I’m not sure I ever see Megan so happy as when she’s at the chateau, but I am determined to go somewhere else next year.
