Free Rendezvous in Cannes by Jennifer Bohnet Page B

Bruno, and was ready and waiting when the taxi arrived. Fighting a sudden inclination to tell the driver to go away, she’d changed her mind and didn’t need a taxi, she climbed into the back and hoped he knew where The Auberge was.
    The streets were busy with the midday rush hour traffic and Anna was five minutes late arriving at the restaurant in a quiet back street. The maitre d’hôtel came forward to greet her as the doorman ushered her in.
    ‘Mon ami, Monsieur ...’ she started to say before realising she didn’t remember Bruno’s last name.
    Anna hesitated, looking around her hoping to spot Bruno.
    The maitre d’ glanced at a list of reservations, ‘Madame Carson?’
    When Anna nodded, he said, ‘This way, s’il vous plaît,’ and he led Anna through the full restaurant out into a wisteria covered courtyard where Bruno was waiting for her at a secluded table in the corner.
    ‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ Anna apologised. ‘I’d forgotten how busy the traffic is at this time of day.’
    ‘I was afraid you’d decided against coming,’ Bruno said.
    ‘I almost did,’ Anna confessed. ‘I don’t normally accept lunch invitations from,’ she hesitated. ‘Strangers.’
    ‘But I’m not a complete stranger,’ Bruno said. ‘I think you’ll find I’m an old acquaintance you lost touch with. Shall we order?’
    Anna took the menu from the waiter. ‘I’m not really hungry. I’ll just have a salad.’ She glanced sharply at Bruno, who sighed.
    ‘Anna, this is one of the finest restaurants in town, it would be a crime not to enjoy your meal here. So order something you like then, if we fall out and never speak to each other again, at least you will have had an enjoyable meal to remember.’
    In spite of herself Anna smiled. ‘Okay. Do you recommend anything in particular?’
    ‘For starters I’m going to have roasted figs with goat’s cheese, followed by the sea bass baked in a salt crust. If I’ve got any room left I shall then indulge in the chef’s splendid chocolate truffle cake.’
    ‘Sounds delicious – I’ll have the same,’ Anna said.
    ‘In which case I’ll order us a bottle of white wine,’ Bruno said. As the wine waiter uncorked Bruno’s choice and offered it for his inspection, Anna studied Bruno. Was he really the person she’d known as Brian? Watching him as he lifted the glass to his lips to taste the wine, she noticed the middle finger of his left hand was a deformed stump. The confirmation she needed.
    Bruno nodded at the wine waiter, waited as he filled both glasses before raising his and saying softly, ‘Here’s to Philippe. Rest in peace.’
    Silently Anna held her glass aloft in acknowledgement and took a sip, before saying quietly, ‘You’re Brian, aren’t you?’
    He nodded.
    ‘So you know who I am?’ she said putting her glass on the table.
    ‘Yes. The love of Philippe’s life.’
    ‘I’m surprised you recognised me after all these years.’
    ‘I didn’t totally at first,’ Bruno said. ‘There was just something about your face that seemed hauntingly familiar. It wasn’t until a photographer friend last evening told me he’d seen you placing a flower in tribute to Philippe, that the truth dawned on me.’
    He glanced at her. ‘I’d seen the message, One Life. One Love, with the flower and knew you’d finally returned – albeit too late for Philippe to know.’
    He regarded her over the rim of his glass and took a sip before saying, ‘But then you ran away again before I could talk to you.’
    Bruno took another photo out of his wallet.
    ‘You and Philippe only had eyes for each other back then but this is one of the three of us,’ and he handed Anna the photograph.
    ‘Oh I remember when this was taken,’ Anna exclaimed. ‘You had a questionable taste in fluorescent pink socks and trainers in those days,’ she laughed.
    ‘Guilty as charged.’ Bruno stuck an elegantly shod foot out for her inspection. ‘The name and the socks went a long