thinks . . .’
‘She’s wrong,’ replied Ted. ‘You know that. I know that. It was a very nice English girl I met in a bar. Didn’t even have time to exchange names, as it happens. And, now my beloved wife isn’t here to suspect anything between you and me. Flown off to New York this afternoon, only gave me two seconds warning, as usual, so . . .’ he gave Theresa a saucy wink, ‘. . . in the meanwhile I am your slave. I know I owe you one for the roasting you had from her. Very sorry about that, mate. Oh, and I didn’t tell her, you know, I think it was one of the pesky waiters at the bistro who saw me running along the way with me family jewels on display. He must have thought I’d gone troppo. Or was jealous of me physique.’ Ted rolled his sleeves up. ‘Anyway, let’s get at it. 57, here, rounded me up as I do know a bit about building and so on.’
‘57?’
‘Don’t worry about it. It’s my pet nickname for Carol.’
Earlier, as Theresa sat waiting after Brian had left her on the doorstep, clutching his mobile phone, the locksmith had phoned to say sorry but he couldn’t be there for a few hours. Desperate to get things moving, Theresa had gone straight up to the police station, then headed back into Nice, where she had a very productive talk with the French bank manager. He had not only arranged for a new card and some immediate cash, but also proposed that, rather than touch her capital, which was on a deal where she couldn’t touch the money for a year without penalties, Theresa take a small loan towards the new central heating. His only condition was that she moved fast and paid it off quickly, maybe got some income coming in soon, from the classes and perhaps letting the spare room.
As she came out of the bank, Theresa ran into Carol and David, who were waiting at Place Garibaldi, for the same bus back to Bellevue-Sur-Mer.
‘Lent the car to William,’ David explained. ‘So we’re reliant on public transportation. Which is fun, once in a while.’
When Theresa told them her tale of woe, both husband and wife got on to their respective mobile phones and started getting things moving.
Within an hour the plumber was in Theresa’s kitchen, along with everybody else.
Theresa marvelled that anyone could be so kind. But Carol was even more radiant as she corralled people into coming forward to help a neighbour in distress.
Just when Theresa was wondering how many people could comfortably fit into her flat, the locksmith popped his head round the door and ushered in William.
He made a ta-daa sound, and stood there grinning and waving the car keys.
‘Carol, you called? Your car is at your service.’
‘Darling, I know you won’t mind running Theresa round the town while she puts up her little signs all over the place, will you?’ Carol shooed Theresa out into the waiting car. ‘Thank you, sweetheart. You’re a darling.’
What would have taken hours by foot, with all the steep hills, took all of ten minutes in a car. They darted round from the tabac to the library and the tourist office and a few other places along the way.
Though, for Theresa, the conversation was at first rather stilted, mainly weather, the majestic views and similar small talk, once William discovered that Theresa had moved to Bellevue-Sur-Mer from Highgate they chattered away. As a student, William told her, he had had a small flat in Jackson’s Lane. He was studying at the Slade at the time, before he moved into the interior design business. Once he made a bit of money he’d moved down to Wimbledon.
Theresa told him that she spent much time there too, babysitting her grandchildren.
‘Very twee, Wimbledon,’ said William. ‘But I got lots of work. Everyone was remodelling their kitchens and living rooms,’ he said. ‘They all wanted their house to look exactly like the one next door. Mysterious.’
He changed gear as they sped down the hill towards the water’s edge. ‘I adore that table
‘She’s wrong,’ replied Ted. ‘You know that. I know that. It was a very nice English girl I met in a bar. Didn’t even have time to exchange names, as it happens. And, now my beloved wife isn’t here to suspect anything between you and me. Flown off to New York this afternoon, only gave me two seconds warning, as usual, so . . .’ he gave Theresa a saucy wink, ‘. . . in the meanwhile I am your slave. I know I owe you one for the roasting you had from her. Very sorry about that, mate. Oh, and I didn’t tell her, you know, I think it was one of the pesky waiters at the bistro who saw me running along the way with me family jewels on display. He must have thought I’d gone troppo. Or was jealous of me physique.’ Ted rolled his sleeves up. ‘Anyway, let’s get at it. 57, here, rounded me up as I do know a bit about building and so on.’
‘57?’
‘Don’t worry about it. It’s my pet nickname for Carol.’
Earlier, as Theresa sat waiting after Brian had left her on the doorstep, clutching his mobile phone, the locksmith had phoned to say sorry but he couldn’t be there for a few hours. Desperate to get things moving, Theresa had gone straight up to the police station, then headed back into Nice, where she had a very productive talk with the French bank manager. He had not only arranged for a new card and some immediate cash, but also proposed that, rather than touch her capital, which was on a deal where she couldn’t touch the money for a year without penalties, Theresa take a small loan towards the new central heating. His only condition was that she moved fast and paid it off quickly, maybe got some income coming in soon, from the classes and perhaps letting the spare room.
As she came out of the bank, Theresa ran into Carol and David, who were waiting at Place Garibaldi, for the same bus back to Bellevue-Sur-Mer.
‘Lent the car to William,’ David explained. ‘So we’re reliant on public transportation. Which is fun, once in a while.’
When Theresa told them her tale of woe, both husband and wife got on to their respective mobile phones and started getting things moving.
Within an hour the plumber was in Theresa’s kitchen, along with everybody else.
Theresa marvelled that anyone could be so kind. But Carol was even more radiant as she corralled people into coming forward to help a neighbour in distress.
Just when Theresa was wondering how many people could comfortably fit into her flat, the locksmith popped his head round the door and ushered in William.
He made a ta-daa sound, and stood there grinning and waving the car keys.
‘Carol, you called? Your car is at your service.’
‘Darling, I know you won’t mind running Theresa round the town while she puts up her little signs all over the place, will you?’ Carol shooed Theresa out into the waiting car. ‘Thank you, sweetheart. You’re a darling.’
What would have taken hours by foot, with all the steep hills, took all of ten minutes in a car. They darted round from the tabac to the library and the tourist office and a few other places along the way.
Though, for Theresa, the conversation was at first rather stilted, mainly weather, the majestic views and similar small talk, once William discovered that Theresa had moved to Bellevue-Sur-Mer from Highgate they chattered away. As a student, William told her, he had had a small flat in Jackson’s Lane. He was studying at the Slade at the time, before he moved into the interior design business. Once he made a bit of money he’d moved down to Wimbledon.
Theresa told him that she spent much time there too, babysitting her grandchildren.
‘Very twee, Wimbledon,’ said William. ‘But I got lots of work. Everyone was remodelling their kitchens and living rooms,’ he said. ‘They all wanted their house to look exactly like the one next door. Mysterious.’
He changed gear as they sped down the hill towards the water’s edge. ‘I adore that table
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