in the little mountain town of Eze, as he looked at her, with admiration in his eyes. He had seen her work developed now, and he knew just how good she was with the little Leica she took everywhere, and used so frequently.
I'd like to work on a book with you one day, Aud. Would you like that? She snapped two more shots and then turned to smile at him, and took a photograph of him with a look of surprise on his face.
Are you serious, Charles? She had blossomed in the days since he'd arrived. She looked more womanly suddenly, more relaxed, and there was a different look in her eyes. Vi talked about it constantly, whenever she and James were alone, and she was wondering if anything would come of it, though James insisted nothing would. Charles wasn't the marrying kind. He had said so for years, and marriage would never have fit in with his career. But it was obvious, even to James, that Charles was madly infatuated with the girl. Or head over heels in love with her, as Vi said.
Of course I'm serious. Your photographs are damn good. Better than what I write.
Hardly. She laughed at his modesty and came to stand next to him. Are you ready for lunch? They had packed Vi and James's enormous picnic basket in the car, and they unpacked it on the mountainside, surrounded by wild flowers with the walls of Eze behind their backs, and the Mediterranean far beneath their feet. It was a view so picturesque that Audrey wondered if even her faithful Leica could capture the beauty of it. She stretched out in the grass, propped on one elbow, looking up at him, with an apple in her hand, and a smile in her eyes. I'm so happy here, Charles.
Are you, now? He looked pleased. And why is that, do you suppose? He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. Has it occurred to you that I'm happy too? Happier than I've ever been in my entire life.
She beamed as he leaned over and kissed her full on the lips. What are we going to do when it's time to go back? She had begun worrying about that. Sooner or later the idyll had to end, and she dreaded that. They both did.
Who determines that, Cinderella? How do we know when it's time to go home?
I sail on September fourteenth. Back the way she had come ' to responsibility ' and duty ' and Annabelle, who was already feeling unwell with her pregnancy. Her last letter had actually been blurred by the tears that fell on the paper as she wrote, and Audrey felt guilty even staying as long as she'd planned.
Is that written in stone?
No. She sighed. But you know I have to go back.
Why?
You know why.
No, I don't. He was teasing her, but he wanted to test how strongly she felt about it. He had had an idea that had been haunting him for days, and he was almost afraid to share it with her, for fear of what she'd say. But he knew that if he could talk her into it, her life would never be quite the same again ' nor would his.
Charles ' She was looking imploringly at him, with a sorrow in her eyes he had never seen there before. Most of the time they laughed and drank champagne and went to parties with Violet and James, but it was on these little jaunts together that they had the chance to open their souls to each other, as they so often did.
Why do you look so sad, my love? He lay down beside her on the grass, and the warmth of his body near hers almost drove her mad. She felt things for Charles that she had never dreamed of in her entire life, but he didn't press her in any awkward ways. And now he just looked at her tenderly, tickling her ear with a bright purple flower that grew near where they lay.
' Don't press me about not going home. I can't delay my return.
Why not?
It wouldn't be fair.
To whom? He was pressing her, and it was very hard on her.
To Grandfather. I know what he thought when I left, and I want to prove to him that he was wrong.
About what? Charles looked suddenly mystified, until she explained.
I think he had a kind of d+!j+ vu when I left. He was terrified that I would do what my
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