‘I could stay here forever,’ says Carol.
‘Oh, me too. But, to be fair, you haven’t had much chance to think about things when we’ve all been partying together and shopping. You know what you should do?’ says Soraya.
‘What? I’ll take anything you suggest because I really want to write this book. I’ve done nothing so far.’
‘Right. In that case, why don’t I see if you can stay on? I am sure Gianni wouldn’t mind. In fact, he’d probably prefer someone to be here, since his housekeeper seems to be away. He’s not due back for another couple of weeks. It would make no difference.’
‘Goodness, I can’t do that. He doesn’t even know me.’
‘I know him, and he’s a lovely guy. He won’t mind, I promise. You’ll be doing him a favour. Like house-sitting. He may even pay you for it. I’ll ask Andrew to give him a ring now.’
‘You can’t! He’s done enough for us already.’
‘He won’t mind. I told you… He’s so generous, he’s a great guy. I’m messaging Andrew now. He’ll sort it out. Just you wait. You’ll be helping him as a house-sitter. I mean, I wouldn’t want to leave a home like that empty, would you?’
‘No, I agree. Anything could happen. House-sitting, eh? Hmm.’ Now Soraya puts it that way, house-sitting a lavish apartment in Monaco sounds like it could be too good an opportunity to miss.
‘Yeah, you can sit on the balcony in the morning with that gorgeous fresh orange juice we get from the supermarket, a warm croissant, laptop open and write your book,’ says Soraya.
‘Well, see what he says. He might not like the idea of a house-sitter.’
‘Oh, he will.’
By the time we have finished our early dinner, I find myself hoping that Gianni agrees.
I don’t want to count my chickens, though, and as we head along the front and take in the last of the views of Monaco, I try to lock the beautiful images in my head. Some of the shops are starting to close, and when we turn the corner, I hear a voice I would recognise anywhere.
‘Just for one, thanks,’ he’s saying.
‘Oh my god, look. It’s Elias!’ shouts Carol.
‘Sshhh,’ I say.
I want to turn the other way as I see Elias grabbing a stool at the bar around the corner from our favourite restaurant.
‘Let’s say hello,’ says Carol.
‘Let’s not.’
‘Oh, come on. Don’t be miserable,’ says Soraya.
The two of them barge up to Elias’s bar stool before I can say anything. But just before they reach him, he looks around and spots me, and if I am not mistaken, his eyes light up as though he has seen an old friend.
He immediately jumps off his bar stool to greet the three of us and kisses our cheeks in an informal French way. I try to ignore my goosebumps.
‘Well, how nice to see you all again,’ he says.
‘You too. It’s our last day. We’re making the most of it. We thought we’d go for a quick walk before heading back to pack and all that stuff,’ says Carol.
‘Your last day already? Time flies.’ Elias looks at Soraya and smiles. ‘I trust you had a wonderful birthday.’
‘Oh yes, I did, thank you.’
‘It was so funny as this bottle of champagne turned up and we thought you had—’
I look at Carol and give her the eyes that tell her not to dare continue.
‘I had what?’ he asks.
