‘That’s because it’s only turned on in December forla saison de Noël. Christmas. It’s a huge star that hangs on the cliffside of thebaou. So big, people can see it when they’re landing at Nice. When I was little, I thought it was magic. A real star that had somehow landed on our mountain.’ Crossing her arms to give herself a tiny hug was unconscious. ‘IloveChristmas so much. The fairy lights everywhere and the decorations in the streets and the shop windows and there’s the carousel and the Christmas market in the Grand Jardin and everybody smiles more and… and we have our star shining over us every night.’
Tilly knew she was sounding too much like an excited child and Angus might well think that belief in the magic of Christmas was as misplaced as giving any weight to the importance of romance. She turned to lead Angus away from the view but he took one more glance over his shoulder.
‘Have you ever climbed up to the cross?’
‘More than once,’ Tilly said. ‘It’s not a hard walk and it takes less than an hour. I was going to put it on my list of locations for a photo shoot for my new business website, but Luc thinks other places are probably more romantic for proposals?—’
Tilly stopped herself just in time to avoid adding that one of those places was the view from the top of Èze that had been chosen for Angus’s proposal to Moira.
‘Luc?’ The succinct query covered her hesitation.
Was it Tilly’s imagination or did he sound slightly put out? Did he think she was going to abandon him to spend time with another man? Perhaps he thought Luc might be her boyfriend and disapproved of her having sex with anyone else. Fair enough – she might, even though she had no right to, feel rather put out herself if he suddenly threw Moira into the conversation.
‘Luc is a professional food photographer,’ she told him. ‘He’s also the husband of my friend Sophie and they adore each other and make each other very happy, so I love him, too. They divide their time between the South of France and London. Sophie has a very cute little house in Saint-Jeannet that they use when they’re here.’
She threw a smile over her shoulder. ‘They’re planning a visit soon because he has some restaurant work in Nice and Paris and he’s offered to do some new photos of a proposal for my website while he’s here. I’ve asked my friends Antoine and Clara if they would be happy to play the part of the couple.’
‘Are they good actors?’
‘They love each other,’ Tilly said quietly. ‘They don’t need to act.’
They walked in silence long enough for her to feel a distance growing between herself and Angus and she didn’t like it. They were passing the small but very lovely buttery yellow cathedral now but Tilly knew it was closed. She was about to point out the golden statue of the Virgin Mary that stood in an alcove over thedoors but Angus spoke first. Maybe he didn’t like the feeling of distance either.
‘I’m thinking about food photography,’ he confessed. ‘And it’s making me very hungry.’ He eyed the tables on the footpath nearby.
‘We’ll go this way,’ she said. ‘Behind the cathedral is my most favourite restaurant in Vence and the owner is a lovely man. If he can squeeze us in, he will – and he does a very nice steak frites.’
‘Now you’re talking.’
‘There are other delicious things on the menu as well. The daube de boeuf is wonderful and so is the ravioli. Or you could go healthy and have thepetits farcis, which are stuffed vegetables.’
Angus made a face like a small boy being ordered to eat broccoli, and that made Tilly laugh. Again.
She’d never met a man who could make her laugh as much as Angus seemed to be able to do without even trying.
She loved that. It made her want to hug herself again, but this time she only did it in her mind.
But it seemed to work so well she could feel it inside her body. Like a squeeze on her heart that made the happiness inside it overflow and trickle right down to her toes.
She knew that feeling.
She was on the cusp of falling in love. And despite knowing that it was with the wrong person and was only going to last a very short time, it was impossible to hold it back.
And Tilly wasn’t sure she wanted to, anyway.
13
Angus followed Tilly to another square tucked in behind the cathedral that was dominated by an enormous chestnut tree with fairy lights beginning to twinkle amongst its leaves as dusk deepened.
Two men were sitting on a bench seat beneath the tree, playing a game of chess. Women were standing chatting and a couple of boys kicked a football between them. The apartment buildings around the edges of the square were hundreds of years old and the sense of community amongst the residents felt just as solid. Tourists wandered through, and tables on the far side of the tree were crowded enough to advertise a popular outdoor restaurant. Tilly stopped beside a house to show Angus the old millstone that was its front doorstep and then gestured towards a nearby entranceway to a building.
‘That’s where I live,’ she told him. ‘You can see my little Vespa parked in there under the archway. The pale green one with the basket on the back?’
The archway and short tunnel into the building were intriguing. ‘Can I see?’
Tilly’s face scrunched into an embarrassed expression that created a very cute wrinkle in her nose.
‘It’s a very small apartment,’ she said. ‘It’s nothing special.’
