T Williams - To Provence, with Love

‘Cheers. Your very good health, Faye. Thank you for coming to join us.’

‘Cheers and thank you for having me. And cheers to you, too, Mr Marshal.’

‘Call me Eddie, would you, Faye? Besides, my name’s not Marshal really.’ In response to her raised eyebrows, he elaborated. ‘I’m really Eduard Maréchal, but the Americans couldn’t cope with the pronunciation, or the spelling, so I changed it to Marshal. So please call me Eddie like everybody does.

Faye went over and clinked her glass against Miss Beech’s, then Eddie’s, and took a mouthful. She watched as Miss Beech sipped her drink pensively before looking up. ‘Here’s something you can put in the book, Faye. They say alcohol slows the activity of the brain, but every time I drink champagne my mind’s flooded with memories of so, so many good times.’ She stared down into the wine glass. ‘To be quite honest, I’ve never really liked the stuff that much. Those bubbles always seem to go up my nose, but it’s what it represents, I suppose.’

‘Well, I haven’t had the opportunity to drink enough champagne in my life to develop a special taste for it, but this is gorgeous. By the way, talking of wine, thank you so much for all the food and drink you’ve put in the flat. The fridge is absolutely packed.’ As Miss Beech made a dismissive gesture with her hand, Faye took another mouthful of champagne. It really was excellent. She pulled up an ornate wooden stool and sat down to one side of Miss Beech, directly in front of the fireplace. ‘So, go on then, what’s running through your mind at the moment? What memories has this sip of champagne awakened?’

There was a moment’s silence while Miss Beech reflected on the question and then, to Faye’s surprise, she started giggling like a schoolgirl once more. ‘To be totally honest, Faye, it reminds me of the night I tipped a bucket full of ice into my leading man’s lap in an Italian restaurant in Beverly Hills.’

Faye gasped, feeling a fit of the giggles rising up inside her as well. ‘You did what?’

She watched as Miss Beech dissolved into laughter, her whole face flushed with pleasure as the memory returned. ‘It was at the end of a day’s filming of Faded Heart .’ Faye knew this to be one of Miss Beech’s best-known films. ‘All that day we’d been riding around on horses. As I recall, I was trying to show him how the stunt boss had been teaching me to jump onto a moving horse.’ She looked up. ‘We did a lot of our own stunts in those days, not like today – and as I leapt to my feet and stretched out one leg to demonstrate, my foot hit the bucket and … splash!’

Faye was laughing by now. ‘Who was the leading man?’

‘Charlton Heston.’

‘Wow, and what was his reaction? Was he angry?’

Miss Beech shook her head. ‘Not at all. He laughed his head off. Said it cooled him down. He was a good, kind man, was Chuck. Not like some others I could mention.’

‘When we get down to writing, I do so hope you’ll mention the baddies as well as the goodies. It would be good to make this a real warts and all story.’

‘Oh, I can give you warts, all right.’ Faye was then amazed to hear Miss Beech reel off three or four examples of the most appalling behaviour by some of the best-known names in Hollywood. Faye listened attentively, knowing that anecdotes like these would be box-office gold if the book ever got as far as publication. She resolved to contact Miss Beech’s lawyer just to be on the safe side, so as to know just how far she could go at naming names in a book like this. Even though it was going to have Miss Beech’s name on the cover, it presumably wouldn’t emerge until after the old lady’s death and that left just Faye. And she had no desire to find herself in the sights of a bunch of American lawyers, baying for blood.

‘Dinner is served.’ Faye looked up to see Claudette at the door pushing a trolley laden with food. The Labrador immediately leapt to his feet and headed over to greet her, tail wagging hopefully.

‘I hope you’re hungry.’ Faye was amused to hear Miss Beech’s whisper. She turned towards her and spotted her mischievous grin. ‘I think Claudette’s worried you’re a bit too slim.’

‘Well I certainly won’t be if I start having too many big meals. I’m going to have to be careful.’

‘When I was your age I existed on celery and nicotine. You should have seen some of the outfits I had to squeeze into. But you’ve got a lovely figure. A good meal every now and then never did anybody any harm.’

The meal was, indeed, excellent. Tonight, Claudette had chosen turbot and had cooked it to perfection with prawns and braised fennel. The aroma rising up from the plates was heavenly. Eddie joined them at table while Claudette retired to the kitchen, presumably to prepare yet more food. Eddie and Faye finished the bottle of champagne between them while Miss Beech just sipped hers from time to time.

Once that was finished, Miss Beech insisted that Eddie open a bottle of white wine and Faye found herself on the receiving end of a ten-year-old Sancerre Premier Cru that tasted every bit as good as the champagne. As they ate and drank, they chatted, or, at least, Faye tried to get Miss Beech to talk, but it was Eddie who did most of the talking. As Faye had imagined, he had a host of tales to tell and his memory, thankfully, was crystal clear and far more agile than his legs.

By the end of the meal, Faye’s sides ached from laughing so much. There was absolutely no doubt about it. If she could reproduce Eddie’s stories, the book was going to be a great success. More to the point, if things continued like this, it was shaping up to be a lot of fun. She was still wiping the tears from her eyes at the end of Eddie’s description of how a brown bear got into one of the luxury trailers used by the stars on location, causing one very famous actor to emerge through a window with his pants in his hands, when Miss Beech decided she had better go to bed. Taking a final mouthful of water, she set the glass back on the table, stood up quite nimbly, and looked across at Faye.

‘I used to be able to stay up all night and drink men twice the size of me under the table. Now, once the clock’s struck ten, I know it’s time for bed, so I’m afraid I’ll have to love you and leave you now. I do hope you’ve enjoyed yourself tonight, Faye. I’ve certainly enjoyed your company.’

Faye made to get up in her turn, but Miss Beech waved her back to her seat. Faye did as she was told and returned the wave. ‘It’s been wonderful, thank you so much. And many thanks to Claudette as well for such a super meal.’

‘You’re very welcome.’

‘Could you and I sit down together tomorrow and make a start on the book? You mentioned a box full of documents and photos.’

‘Absolutely, Faye. How about meeting up at nine o’clock? I’m normally fairly bright in the morning. Would that be all right?’

‘That would be lovely. I’ll come across at nine. Sleep well.’

Miss Beech gave a little wave of the hand and made her way out of the door, walking unassisted. As she did so, Faye couldn’t miss an expression of contentment on her face. She felt sure her new employer had enjoyed the evening of memories and she looked forward to more of them. After her departure, Faye stood up and looked across at Eddie Marshal.

‘Would it be all right if I take Marlon for a walk now?’ As Faye said the word, she saw the dog’s eyelids open as if by magic. ‘I’d like a bit of fresh air. Where do you take him at this time of night?’

‘Are you sure you’d like to do that? Aren’t you tired after your long drive?’

‘No, I’d love to.’ By now, the dog had rolled himself onto his front, all thought of sleep gone, and he looked poised to jump to his feet. ‘So, where do we go?’