Jennifer Bohnet - Rosie’s Little Café on the Riviera

‘Evening, babe,’ sleazy Stan, her landlord, said as she opened the door. ‘Beginning to think I’d have to use my master key.’

‘I hope that’s a joke,’ GeeGee said.

‘You’ll never know will you, doll?’

GeeGee gritted her teeth. No way was she going to let him rile her tonight. ‘You bought my new lease for me to sign?’

‘Nope. There isn’t one. Don’t know why you thought there would be. Studio’s a winter let only. Always has been. You’ve had an extra month as it is.’

Dumbly GeeGee stared at him. She’d gone through that lease several times. It had been a standard six-month renewable tenancy agreement. Nowhere had it said anything about it being a winter let.

She’d wanted a year’s lease but Stan had said take it or leave it. Desperate at the time, she’d signed. She’d been stupid enough to believe that renewing every six months would be automatic. Should have realised what the scum-bag was up to.

‘But you have to give me a new lease.’

Stan shook his head. ‘No, I don’t. I’ve got holidaymakers coming in here soon. You can come back in October if you want but I want you out of here by the end of next week. And make sure you take that cat with you.’

GeeGee didn’t have the energy to say the cat wasn’t hers. What the hell was she supposed to do now? Finding another place needed money for a deposit, rent in advance, etc. Money she didn’t have.

CHAPTER EIGHT

In the lull between closing the restaurant after lunch and reopening for dinner, Rosie sat at one of the tables with her laptop, planning to try and catch up with some of the restaurant paperwork – being French, it was breeding at an alarming rate. Lucky lay across her feet sleeping. Nobody had come looking for the dog and she’d shown no inclination to wander off. Stretching her hand down to fondle her ears, Rosie whispered, ‘I guess it’s you and me from now on.’

Rosie smiled to herself as she heard the Café Fleur advertisement play on Riviera Radio. Fingers crossed it was worth it and would bring more people down to the beach. She must try to remember to ask people where they’d heard about the Café Fleur when they booked. See if the ad was worth the money.

At six o’clock Rosie left Tansy preparing a tomato and mozzarella salad and went through to the restaurant to make sure everything was in order ‘front of house’ for the evening. She enjoyed this side of things – meeting and greeting her customers. After years of working in a galley hidden from view onboard the yachts, it was a welcome change.

Antoine’s table for two had been joined by another three bookings. She and Tansy would manage just fine – they were used to cooking and serving dinner for up to sixteen guests on A Sure Thing . They’d even cope if there were some unexpected customers off the beach. Though how she’d cope if Charlie came with Antoine she refused to even contemplate.

As she lit some table candles, Rosie glanced out through the windows. Shame it was still too cold to eat out on the terrace in the evenings. She was looking forward to the long summer evenings when the place would be full of people enjoying her food. Maybe next year she’d be able to invest in some of those outdoor gas heaters.

Rosie glanced at her watch. Antoine was late. Charlie’s fault? He was a terrible time-keeper. When Antoine did finally arrive, accompanied by a fellow yacht skipper, Rosie felt the tension leaving her body and succumbed happily to a bearlike hug. No Charlie to spoil the evening.

By the time Antoine had been out to the kitchen to see Tansy and decided they all needed glasses of champagne, the guests for the other tables had arrived. For the next hour or two things were busy and Rosie had very little chance to talk to Antoine.

As she handed him his favourite dessert, he said, ‘James not working tonight?’

‘I can’t afford him every day. Wish I could,’ Rosie said. ‘I meant to thank you, too, for sending him my way.’

Antoine shook his head. ‘Not me.’

‘But James told me what you said about me.’

‘He asked my opinion, that’s all.’ Antoine looked at his dacquoise. ‘I wish you’d tell our new chef how to make this. Her dessert dishes aren’t a patch on yours. How am I going to survive next week’s trip to Sardinia without a decent dessert?’

‘You’re off to Sardinia?’ Rosie asked, delighted to know Charlie wouldn’t be around for a few weeks. No chance of him popping uninvited into the Café Fleur.

‘William wants Charlie to spend a couple of days over there with him. He reckons there’s a good business opportunity over there.’ Antoine glanced at Rosie. ‘Talking of Charlie – he sends his love.’

‘Does he?’ Rosie said. ‘That’s nice.’ A sudden thought struck her. ‘He knows about this place? That you’re here tonight? Oh, Antoine, you promised.’

Antoine held his hands up in defence. ‘I didn’t tell him. But hell, Rosie, out of season it’s like a village down here. Everyone knows what everyone else is up to. And you’ve advertised on the radio. You can’t seriously have expected him not to put two and two together.’

Rosie sighed. ‘I suppose not. At least he’ll be out of the way for a few weeks in Sardinia.’

***

Busy serving customers out on the terrace Friday lunchtime, Rosie smiled in welcome as Erica and Cammie arrived. She’d liked Erica the moment GeeGee had introduced them, sensing a kindred spirit behind Erica’s quiet demeanour. Erica had been back to the beach several times since then, both with and without Cammie, and was turning into a real friend rather than just a customer.

‘Hello, you two,’ Rosie said. ‘You’re just in time for the last table. Not sure why we’re quite so busy today. I think people must have the weekend feeling early.’ She quickly wrote down their lunch order and returned to the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, taking Erica and Cammie’s croque monsieurs out to them, Rosie smiled. Cammie was playing with Lucky and squealing with delight.

‘I’ll be pestered even more now to get a dog,’ Erica said. ‘Still it’s good to see Cammie laughing.’

‘I haven’t seen GeeGee for a few days,’ Rosie said, stopping briefly to chat. ‘Do you know if she’s all right?’

‘I expect she’s busy with clients,’ Erica said. ‘The property market usually picks up as the summer gets underway.’

‘There’s definitely more people around this week,’ Rosie said. ‘Enjoy your lunch.’ And she made her way back to the kitchen.

When James stopped by for a coffee, Rosie asked him to stay and work for a couple of hours and also to work at the weekend. ‘I’ll even pay you this time,’ she promised.

Later that day, an exhausted Rosie thoughtfully stroked Lucky. Would she make a guard dog? There had been a couple of dodgy-looking young men buying stuff from the takeaway this morning – portion of chips each, then ten minutes later one would come for a drink, followed in five minutes by the second one. When they returned for a third time for one flapjack, Rosie, remembering Seb’s mention of last season’s drug bust, began to seriously wonder if they were casing the place. Having a dog around might be a good idea.

Lucky had been no trouble during the day; in fact she’d shown every sign of settling in, wagging her tail as she greeted customers on the terrace, as well as playing happily with Cammie and any other child who happened to be around.

Saturday evening there were several reservations and even some casual passing-by trade. When the last couple walked in at half past nine, Rosie knew it was going to be a late night. It was James who stayed to help Rosie clear up when Tansy left to go clubbing with Rob at nearly midnight.