Two waitresses in smart black trousers and white shirts brought out refills. More things to entice us. Silky heaps of Greek yogurt, fruit compotes, a beautiful glass bowl of local lavender honey with a wooden dipper; it seemed an endless stream of temptation, and I could probably have stayed there all day, with my Kindle, drinking excellent coffee and going back every so often for something else.
The three of us sat at a table in the window overlooking the flower-filled courtyard garden behind the hotel and tried not to be too greedy.
‘After this we can just meander off towards the Mediterranean,’ Harriet said, dunking the end of her croissant into her coffee. ‘There is a wide promenade by the side of the sea with plenty of places to sit and chill and people-watch. I’d like that, my knee is giving me a bit of trouble.’
‘Then of course we will. That sounds lovely,’ I said.
‘And hopefully we can see some of those awful souped-up cars men are so keen on these days,’ Anna said. ‘I tried to persuade Rupert to change his car a couple of months ago because it keeps breaking down and it’s so old that the garage are having trouble finding replacement parts for it. He was appalled. You would have thought I had suggested we have a couples massage.’
‘Right then,’ I said when we all agreed we’d had enough breakfast to keep us going, ‘meet back down here in fifteen minutes. Nothing heavy to carry, sunglasses and comfy shoes.’
‘I don’t have any other sort,’ Harriet said. ‘My days of wedge heels and stilettos are well over.’
‘Oooh, I had some bright red Doc Martens once,’ Anna said, her eyes wide with the memory. ‘I used to wear them with a Laura Ashley tiered maxi skirt and a man’s tweed jacket I bought in the C&A sale for two quid. My father said it was outrageous and I looked like someone’s mad grandmother. I could wear them now and no one would bat an eyelid.’
‘I haven’t bought anything outrageous for a long time,’ I said. ‘Which is a pity.’
‘Perhaps we should go shopping,’ Harriet said, ‘and find you something.’
‘Here in Nice? I don’t think so,’ I said, laughing.
‘Never say never,’ Anna replied.
Yes, she was right. Why not?
* * *
We turned left down the alley outside our hotel, the road gradually widening into a proper street with cars and pavements. There were little shops andtabacsnext to fashion stores and galleries. Then we found ourselves in another open square with a black and white marble floor, surrounded by high, beautiful buildings. We pressed on down a narrower street where palm trees were visible at the end, and beyond them we could see the Mediterranean in all its blue, shining glory.
Alongside it there was a wide pedestrianised boulevard where people were strolling in the sunshine. There were green bicycle lanes and the occasional delivery van parked up. After a few minutes we reached the shade of a white pavilion with a canvas roof built to provide benches and shade from the heat of the day. We sat down with sighs of pleasure, looking out at the sea and the beaches below. There were rows of parasols and sunbeds, a few people in the sea; further out there was a beautiful yacht, its sails white against the blue sky, making slow progress across the bay.
‘Oh, look at that! It’s a shame you didn’t bring your bathers, Lizzie. I bet you’d love to go in for a swim; you always were a bit of a water baby. Back in the day we would all have been in the sea, but I think most of the beaches are private now, owned by the hotels,’ Harriet said.
‘Would they chuck us off if we went down there?’ Anna asked, obviously tempted by a new challenge to authority.
‘Try if you like, I’m not bailing you out,’ I said, nodding towards two very handsome gendarmes who were standing nearby, glowering behind their mirrored sunglasses.
They had a police dog with them too on a stout leather lead. He was wearing a smart blue vest and was taking an equally keen interest as his handlers were in the bikini wearers on the sand. All three of them looked more than capable of giving someone a jolly good bite.
We came to a strip where the promenade was wider and the road narrower, and along one side were lots of enticing-looking wine bars and cafés with tables and chairs overlooking the sea.
‘Let’s go in one,’ I said. ‘Let’s give Harriet a nice sit down and have lunch or a cocktail or something. Let’s go mad.’
At last, we decided on one, Hôtel Mer Bleue, because it sounded somehow familiar and it looked lovely, with blue parasols over each table providing some welcome shade. We had tall glasses of iced lemonade and shared a platter of cheese and charcuterie because although none of us was particularly hungry, we were just lured in by the sight of other people’s late lunches.
Perhaps it was always like this. Harriet and I agreed we could quite happily go without a proper meal most days if we didn’t feel like cooking. Going to all that trouble for just one person always seemed a waste of time and not worth the effort. But presented with the sight of other, happy diners gleefully digging into baskets of French bread, oozing Brie in a terracotta pot, crispy golden fries in little wire baskets and beautifully presented salami was a temptation too far.
‘I’m never going to lose weight,’ I said, stabbing at a cube of feta. ‘I think I’m just too greedy.’
‘Me too,’ Harriet said.
‘I am the same weight I was when I was forty,’ Anna said rather smugly. ‘Particularly since I had the boob job, I’ve been very careful. I was always afraid any weight I gained would pile back on there.’
‘You didn’t worry about your nose? You had that done too,’ Harriet said innocently.
Anna rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, very funny. No, I didn’t. I just had an awful fear of anything happening.’
Harriet scoffed at this. ‘Trust me, real fear is when you are in a changing room trying on a dress that’s just a bit too small, and you can’t get it off. And there’s the strong possibility that you might have to call an assistant to drag it off over your head.’
