Paradise Found (6 page)

‘A new wedding date?' Nerissa queried.

‘We can be married just as soon as Tony is discharged from the hospital, I don't see the point in waiting.'

‘My dear, you're surely not expecting Tony to hobble down the aisle on crutches?' Nerissa asked, looking scandalized at the idea.

‘Why not? It's been done before.'

‘And after subjecting him to that indignity, then what? You'd go back to your new
apartment?'
Nerissa inquired with the sweetness of someone who had the upper hand.

‘Ah!' Zoe said, seeing the, flaw in her own reasoning. ‘Tony couldn't manage all the steps. It would be difficult to get him up them, and once there he would be a prisoner.'

‘Precisely. It isn't a lot more convenient for him to come back here. We could have a bedroom fitted for him downstairs, but there's the problem of the bathroom, which is upstairs. Luckily, Matt has come up with the ideal solution.'

Zoe was suspicions of anything Matt put forward, but she held her tongue.

‘As you know, our mother lives in the South of France. Her house is a split-level and has a ground floor which has bedroom facilities. It will be just perfect for Tony, and his grandmother will be delighted with the arrangement. She's always complaining that she doesn't see enough of the family.'

‘You're whisking Tony off to France?' Zoe asked, turning to Matt.

‘He'll be in a cast for at least six weeks after his discharge. He's out of commission as far as work is concerned. He can't drive in his present condition, which wouldn't be a problem, because chauffeur service could be arranged for him, but, as everywhere else, there are too many steps for him to cope with at the works. As Nerissa has already told you,
mother's
house in France has ground-floor bedrooms. But of course, if you can come up with something better . . . ?'

‘You know I can't,' Zoe admitted, not liking the way Tony was being removed beyond her sphere. If she didn't care for that, the next bombshell Matt delivered was even less acceptable.

‘That's all right, then,' he said. ‘The only thing is, I won't be whisking Tony off to France.'

‘No?'

‘No. You will.'

‘Me?'

‘We feel that someone should accompany him. Nerissa is tied up with her various committees and charity work. I have a company to run. Also, it will give mother a chance to get to know you. From your point of view there are no difficulties. You've given up your job and your apartment. And perhaps it will make it up to you for missing your honeymoon in Portugal.'

Oh, so that was to be the way of it. Putting on a big smile, she said, ‘I think that's a wonderful idea. I'm all for it. I haven't even got round to unpacking my honeymoon suitcase yet, so I'm all set to go.'

It wasn't what she had thought at all, just the opposite! Matt was removing her from
his
sphere. She ought to have been relieved that she wouldn't be in daily risk of encountering
Matt;
instead it was as if her legs had been kicked out from under her. She felt an intense need to punish both herself and Matt, herself for her own perfidy and Matt for the brutal way he had flung the news at her. So she stuck her chin out at him and said, ‘Only what's to stop the marriage taking place before we go?'

It was Nerissa who answered. ‘I should think your consideration for my son would prevent your suggesting such a thing. In Tony's condition, with his ribs the way they are and his leg broken, it would be too much of a strain. Not to mention the big disappointment it would be to me. I want this wedding to be perfect, and it wouldn't be with Tony on crutches.' She paused. Zoe switched from viewing the smirk on Matt's face in time to see the speculative look that touched Nerissa's features. ‘I hope this isn't too indelicate a question, Zoe, but it's something I must ask. You seem to be in an inordinate rush about things. Is there any desperate need for you to get married quickly?'

Now who wasn't showing consideration? The woman could have asked when they were alone. ‘No,' she said as a hot flood of color stung her cheeks.

* * *

The preparations had been masterminded by Matt, so everything was going predictably
smoothly.
A wheelchair had been at their disposal at the airport to transport Tony through the formalities and onto the plane. Another wheelchair would be there when they touched down to take Tony to the car that would be waiting for them.

‘You don't look too happy, darling,' Tony said, taking her hand and looking ruefully at the lone ring on her finger. ‘Disappointed that it isn't our honeymoon?'

It wasn't disappointment that had wiped the smile off Zoe's face but fury at Matt's whispered aside on parting. ‘Keep Tony's delicate condition in mind, and don't do anything that might put a strain on it.' She wasn't going to tell Tony that, so she sidestepped by counter questioning, ‘Aren't you?'

He gave her hand an extra squeeze. ‘You know I am; I'm as disappointed as hell. What a silly thing to do,' he said, looking grimly at the ungainly plaster cast stuck out in front of him. The air authorities had been marvelous, ensuring a seat with extra room and providing a leg rest.

‘Cheer up, Tony. I'm sure you didn't get drunk deliberately.'

‘I didn't even know I was getting drunk. You know how it is. Everyone wanted to buy me a celebration drink, and it would have seemed churlish to refuse.'

‘And you certainly didn't fall down the steps
at
the Ace of Clubs on purpose,' Zoe said laconically.

It was odd to see Tony's self-assurance slip as he stammered, ‘No . . . I . er . . . no, I didn't.'

He was behaving like a small abashed boy. Which was reasonable, she supposed. He undoubtedly felt like an absolute fool for spoiling everything by such a stupid act, and her own fingers, still within his, strengthened their clasp. The look that came to his eyes was a cross between gratitude and wonder.

‘I must say, you've been fantastic about this. Most women would have ranted and raved and never let up. And you haven't said one word of condemnation.'

‘What would be the point? Anyway, I think you've paid dearly enough in physical discomfort.' She knew that he was in a lot of pain still. She would have known by the look on his face, even if his constant moanings hadn't reminded her of the fact. Men were poor invalids.

‘I've really been through the mill,' he grumbled. ‘But it's right what they say, no matter how bad a thing seems to be, some good invariably comes out of it. It's made me realize what a treasure I have in you. Not that I didn't appreciate you before, but this has made me see how truly wonderful you are. I'm a lucky man, Zoe.'

The smile she gave him was warm. Away from Matt, beyond the reach of his magnetism,
she
found she was rediscovering why she had first been attracted to Tony and why she had said she would marry him. His personality wasn't necessarily weaker than Matt's—although, come to think of it, everybody's personality was weaker than Matt's—Tony had come out of a softer mold. After a surfeit of Matt's granite strength there was something very appealing about Tony's human vulnerability.

She was more than a little perturbed, though, at the way Tony was ordering freely from the drinks trolley. She hated to sound as if she were nagging, but she wondered if he was being quite wise.

‘Don't forget you're on medication, Tony. The painkillers and what-have-you that the hospital prescribed might not mix with spirits. And anyway, I read somewhere that alcohol is more potent when you're airborne.'

‘Great little reader, aren't you? If you were in as much pain as I am, you'd want something to dull the edge.'

She sighed. Who could argue with that? ‘Yes, I suppose you're right.'

* * *

Just as Matt had promised, a chauffeur-driven car was waiting at the airport to take them to Les Pins, where his mother lived. Zoe was tired after their flight, but her exhaustion
dropped
away on the fascinating drive. Her eager eyes darted everywhere, much to Tony's amusement. As she pointed out, he had been there many times before, but it was all new to her. She had never even been to France, much less the South of France, which had always had a special charisma.

Although the fashionable resorts of Nice and Cannes were near to hand, Les Pins was not one of the luxury Riviera resorts. It didn't have a casino or a nightclub; there wasn't one millionaire's yacht anchored in the bay. It was a charming old town set against a backdrop of vineyards and fragrant pine woods, with a promenade flanked by acacia, eucalyptus, palms, mimosa, and sidewalk cafés. Zoe fell in love with it at first sight and knew why Matt's mother had chosen to forfeit the country of her birth and settle here.

The houses rose in tiers. The one the driver stopped in front of was, as Matt had said, a split-level and had a quaint charm all of its own, with steps at odd angles and an outside staircase curving to the upper level. But the ground story had no steps; it was completely flat all the way back to the small sheltered garden, which Zoe spied through an arch.

The house was called Les Charmettes. As a tall, keen-eyed, very straight-backed lady came forward to greet them, Zoe knew that she was going to be as truly charmed by the owner as she was by the house.

If
they had met in the street, she felt that she would have known this lady to be Matt's mother, even though they didn't share the same coloring. Her hair was white, but a silvery white that suggested she had been fair, and despite living in a sunny climate, she had retained her girlish English rose complexion. The similarity had something to do with the forthright way she looked at Zoe. It wasn't until the assessment was complete that her chin gave a complacent nod and a smile curved her mouth. ‘Yes, you'll do. And just as beautiful as Matt said you were when he phoned to make the arrangements.'

Zoe didn't know whether the wild blush stinging her cheeks was because of the close scrutiny she had been subjected to or because Matt had said she was beautiful.

‘It was kind of you to say you'd have me, Mrs. Hunter.'

Her hand was taken in a very English handshake, yet she was kissed on both cheeks in the French way.

‘It will be my pleasure. I don't get out as much as I used to, and I will appreciate some feminine company and chatter. We must start out as we mean to go on. Mrs. Hunter sounds much too formal. Tony always calls me Nan. I have a rather attractive first name, at least I've always thought so. It's Hannah. I suggest that's what you call me. Hannah means “full of grace and prayer.” After four boys, my mother could
have
used some grace in a girl, and after four boys I was the answer to a prayer.'

‘I think it's a charming name, and you have a charming reason for wanting to be called by it. I'd love to call you Hannah, if you're sure it's all right?'

‘Zoe, when you come to know me better, you'll find out that I never say anything I don't mean.'

The chauffeur had meanwhile helped Tony out of the car and was equipping him with his crutches. He wasn't used to them yet, and his hobble as he came forward to greet his grandmother was clownish and inept.

“Now who's been a silly boy?' Hannah asked, reaching up to kiss him on both cheeks in the manner she had kissed Zoe.

‘Hello, Nan. Looking as young and as beautiful as ever, I see.'

‘And I see that you're as full of soft soap as ever. Leave the luggage.' This to Zoe, whose hand had gone down to pick up one of the suitcases. ‘That will be dealt with. Come into the house. I thought you'd like a cup of tea first before I showed you where I've put you. Yes, I may live in France and adapted well to the French customs, but I'm an Englishwoman at heart. I drink coffee along with the French, but I still like my cup of tea. I have it specially imported. Matt sees to that for me. Of course, it never tastes quite the same as it does at home. It's the different water, you know. By
the
way, as you may have discovered already, I talk a lot,' she finished with a small, impish laugh.

‘I suppose you find it nice to talk to someone in English,' Zoe commented.

‘I just find it nice to talk. I don't miss my native tongue as much as you might think. There's a rather tight English community hereabouts, although I do naturally have French friends, also. Do you speak French, Zoe?'

‘Sorry, no.'

‘Perhaps you'll pick it up while you're here. Tony never has, but he's lazy. Matt speaks it like a native. Have you ever been to this part of France before?'

‘I've never been to any part of France before.'

‘Really? There's something especially lovely in seeing a country for the first time. If I didn't love living here so much, I could almost envy you the experience. Pity that Matt isn't here. He could have taken you around,' Hannah said, slotting her arm companionably through Zoe's as she guided her inside, leaving Tony to clomp behind them. ‘Long John Silver here isn't going to be much use. And I'm afraid I've tended to make friends of my own age group, so, their visitors excepted, it's no good looking in that direction. And I'm not up to it myself.' This conversation was picked up again over the teacups. The tea trolley, looking very
homey
with its dainty settings of cakes and scones, was brought in by a very attractive French girl with dark doe eyes who admitted to being able to speak ‘a leetle English.'

‘Still, you never know, he might pop up unexpectedly, as he usually does,' Hannah said, seemingly out of the blue.

Zoe hadn't followed the drift of Hannah's mind and had to ask, ‘Who might?'

‘Matt. He rarely rings or writes in advance, just blows in on the wind. Sometimes when the will takes him, other times on a job. Anything that will bring him anywhere within remote shooting distance, he tackles himself, which is nice for me. He's always been a very thoughtful son and a perfect joy to me, once I got over the shock of being a mother again after a gap of fifteen years. Tony's mother, Nerissa, was the obligatory child everyone seems to have at the beginning of their marriage, to prove that they can, I suppose. Matt was my love child. Not that he wasn't fathered by my husband, you understand, but he was conceived in love. It would be nice for you if Matt did suddenly show up to take you places. No matter what your taste is—sailing, sun worshipping, nightclubbing—this coast caters to it. You don't have too far to travel to find a wealth of medieval buildings. And it would be a pity not to cross the frontier and have a mild flutter at the tables in Monte Carlo. Mostly it's not a question of where to
go,
it's what to leave out. So I'm going to keep my fingers crossed for you and hope that Matt does decide to pay one of his impromptu visits. If you'll excuse me, I'll alert Yvette that we need more hot water.'