‘Oh!’ Paula looks between them. ‘Was that all a set-up? You spotted him and faked your . . .’ She trails off at Ivy’s face. She is very pale and sweaty.
‘Not fake,’ she says in a quiet voice. ‘Definitely not fake.’
‘Not everything is a plan,’ Audrey says. ‘Just most things. And either way, it worked out perfectly!’ She smacks her lips with satisfaction as Ivy sticks her whole head out of the window. Paula the Dog loyally joins her.
‘Look, we’re here!’ Teddy points out the front windscreen. They catch Ivy murmuring, ‘Thank God,’ as they pull into a car park.
The hotel is lovely. The Cheval Blanc Saint-Tropez is small and boutique, sitting on the water with its own jetty. Not to mention its very own beach. The inside – which the concierge, Gerard, calls an ‘intimate maison’ – is smaller than Paula expected. Much more low key and minimalist than the large ceilinged London hotels Audrey talks about. The concierge shows them round, and they walk from room to room in awed silence. There are only thirty bedrooms, but Gerard says each is themed around ‘thoughtful elegance’. By which it’s clear he meansmoney.
When Teddy informs Gerard that Paula has come without a suitcase, within an hour, someone has filled her room witheverything one might need for a holiday in the South of France. And quite a lot of things she would never, ever need. For example, in what world might she have use of a week-to-view calendar on her holiday, or a toastie maker? But she is impressed nonetheless.
In her room, Paula takes a minute to brush her teeth, admiring the shininess of the bathroom and the room itself – sorry, thetwo-bedroom Sea Suite.It must be a thousand square feet, with two expansive bedrooms, a dressing room and its own private garden terrace. Moving past her king-sized bed and out onto the balcony, Paula looks out over the Mediterranean, admiring the deep greens and pale blues. There are boats in every direction and Paula thinks of Ivy and of her deep-seated need for freedom.
It’s a beautiful distraction, but everything that’s happened isn’t far from her thoughts. The way Paula left without a word, Tilly and Seb will be even more convinced of what they said. And what is she going to do about the money she owes? She shouldn’t have come here. It doesn’t feel right. Nothing feels right. She just wants to be at home in her own bed, under her duvet, where she can cry and cry and cry.
She checks her phone, hoping there might be a message from at least one of her children. But there is nothing, only messages from Audrey and Teddy in the TLWWC WhatsApp group. Audrey wants them all to know that Antoine has already been in touch about their date, and she’s hoping to fix that twenty-five years and five months dry spell imminently. If they know what she means. Teddy’s reply asks about dinner and studiously ignores any mention of Audrey’s sex life.
She’s also asking in convoluted metaphors, what they’re going to do about sexual predator, Owen.
Paula’s heart beats fast as she backs up across the room, sitting heavily on the sprawling bed. She doesn’t even take off her shoes, climbing under the covers and holding them over her. She squeezes her eyes tightly shut. She came here for an escape from everything, to hide from the danger and the horror. But she’s brought everything with her here to paradise. There is nowhere to hide.
29
Several hours later, Paula jerks awake at the sound of persistent knocking on the door. For a moment she freezes in the unfamiliar surroundings. This isn’t her home. Where is she? Who is making that noise? Have they come for her?
‘Paula?’ It’s Teddy’s voice. She sounds worried.
They’re in Saint-Tropez. They’re on holiday. She’s with her friends.
Groggy and tangled in the silk sheets, Paula reaches automatically for her phone. She has several missed calls and message notifications.
‘PAULA? DARLING?’ That’s Audrey now, and she’s shouting.
Paula fights the heaviness in her limbs, clawing her way out of the bed to the door and pulling it open.
‘I’m here, sorry,’ she says quietly, and Ivy is in her arms before she can say anything else.
‘I was worried,’ she murmurs into her ear. ‘You didn’t answer.’
‘I’m sorry, sweetheart,’ Paula says in the same low voice. ‘I was asleep.’
Ivy releases her at last and Paula swipes at her swollen eyes.
‘Are you OK?’ Teddy’s usually cool, unaffected gaze is earnest and frightened.
Paula nods quickly. ‘Of course. Shall we go to dinner?’
Audrey tuts. ‘We missed our reservation, I’m afraid.’
Teddy waves an angry hand at the older woman. ‘Never mind that, it doesn’t matter.’ She turns to face Paula, frowning. ‘Something’s going on with you, Paula, please talk to us.’
Paula shakes her head vaguely. ‘No, no, nothing. It’s just . . . you know, Tilly and . . . well, you know. It’s all a lot.’
Teddy stares at her, waiting. Ivy does the same. Audrey fiddles with her phone, ever the sociopath.
She should tell them. She should tell them everything. She should tell them the truth about John and the loan sharks and how she’s living with this paralysing fear.
She opens her mouth.
