Rendez-Vous in Cannes. Jennifer Bohnet

wait to collect her luggage and meet up with the car she’d ordered for the journey to the Villa Flora.

      The Arrivals Hall when she walked through was crowded. Official-looking chauffeurs were everywhere, holding up boards with various names on them, none of them hers. Did the flight delay mean the chauffeur hadn’t waited?

      As people were shepherded off to their transport and the waiting crowds thinned slightly, Anna stood there at a loss to know what to do.

      ‘Excuse me. You wouldn’t be Anna Carson by any chance?’ a voice at her side asked hesitantly.

      ‘Yes,’ she said, turning to face a young woman holding a small piece of paper with ‘Anna Carson’ scrawled across it.

      ‘Hi, I’m Daisy – Poppy’s sister. I’m afraid there was a difficulty with your hire car and Poppy asked me to meet you.’

      ‘Oh, thank goodness. Being so late arriving, I was worried I might be stranded,’ Anna said, smiling.

      Following Daisy as she led the way through the car park, Anna listened as Daisy explained what had happened.

      ‘So, instead of a proper chauffeur and a limo, you’ve got me and my sister’s runaround,’ Daisy apologised as she opened the boot and put Anna’s two cases inside.

      ‘I’m just grateful to be met,’ Anna said. ‘I’m not that fond of limos anyway. I like sitting in the front passenger seat and official chauffeurs aren’t too keen on that.’

      As Daisy concentrated on finding her way out of the car park and back to the autoroute, Anna sat quietly looking out of the window.

      When Daisy let out a muttered curse, she said, ‘Something wrong?’

      ‘I’ve missed the autoroute entry slip road. Do you mind if we go back along the bord de mer instead? It’s not as quick, but at least I know my way.’

      ‘I’d enjoy the scenic route,’ Anna said. ‘Do you live down here with your sister?’

      ‘No. I’m staying with her for the festival. I’m a journalist,’ Daisy replied. ‘It’s my first time covering the festival.’ Waiting in a queue for the traffic lights to change, Daisy looked across at Anna. ‘I gather this is your first festival too?’

      ‘What makes you say that?’ Anna said, surprised.

      ‘Your bio in one of the trade papers says although you’ve been in the industry for some time, you’ve never been to Cannes before.’

      ‘I’ve never had a film make its premiere here before,’ Anna answered.

      ‘Your film Future Promises is showing at the weekend, isn’t it? I expect you’re looking forward to walking up the infamous steps?’

      ‘Think so. I’m not used to being in the glare of the spotlight,’ Anna said. ‘I’d rather leave all that to the actors. To be truthful, I find the whole thing rather daunting. Much rather be in the background of things.’ She smiled. ‘So long as my partner, Leo, manages to get here in time, I’ll be fine.’

      ‘Personally I’m amazed at how large the whole festival is,’ Daisy said. ‘The number of trade stands is huge and everyone seems to be networking like mad.’

      ‘My favourite festival is Deauville,’ Anna replied. ‘Less trade, far more about the films. Same with Venice, but Cannes is the big one, as I’m sure you’re aware. The important one in the industry.’

      ‘The public come to see the stars, but people in the film industry simply want to do deals. At least that’s what Marcus, the photographer I’m working with, tells me. Is your company exhibiting here?’ Daisy asked.

      ‘Yes. I have to show my face at a couple of meetings with some American clients. And probably go to a couple of parties.’ Anna paused as she took in the view of the Mediterranean glinting in the sunshine.

      ‘Where are we now?’

      ‘Skirting Antibes. A few more minutes and we’ll be passing the celebrated Eden Roc Hotel, where, I’m told, the best people stay and fabulous parties are held. Another ten minutes and we should be on the outskirts of Cannes.’

      ‘Spectacular views,’ Anna said, looking out across the bay as they drove down the hill.

      While Daisy concentrated on the narrow winding coast road as it made its way around the Cap d’Antibes and on through Juan-les-Pins, Anna enjoyed the changing scenery.

      The sudden whoosh of a TGV train rushing past on the railway line that followed the road as it approached Golf-Juan made her jump. Approaching Cannes, the traffic began to build up and soon they were reduced to a crawl.

      Anna saw Daisy glance at the dashboard clock before sighing and saying, ‘At this rate, it’s going to take us ages to get to the villa.’

      ‘Have you got things lined up to do this evening?’ Anna asked, guiltily aware her plane being so late had probably created a few problems for Daisy.

      Daisy nodded. ‘I’ve got to finish and file my first report for the newspaper, do a spot of internet research on this big director who’s just died, take a look at tonight’s stars on the red carpet and then I get to go to a party later.’ She glanced at Anna. ‘Don’t suppose you knew this Philippe Cambone, did you? Work with him even? Any info – personal anecdotes or anything – would be gratefully received.’

      ‘No, I never worked with Philippe Cambone, so unfortunately I can’t help you with anything other than what you’ll find on the internet.’ Anna turned to look out of her passenger window, effectively finishing the conversation.

      ‘That’s a shame,’ Daisy said, disappointed. ‘There’s not much info out there. Seems Mr Cambone was a very private person. Oh good, the traffic is clearing, we’re on the move again.’

      ‘Are we going via the Croisette?’ Anna asked.

      ‘Only so far. The police will probably have barricaded the road before we reach The Bunker, ready for the evening screening.’

      ‘The Bunker?’

      ‘Local name for the Festival des Palais,’ Daisy explained. ‘We’ll have to take a right and go round the back streets. Hopefully it won’t add too much time to the journey.’

      With a silent Anna beside her, Daisy concentrated on her driving and ten minutes later turned into the villa entrance. Poppy, hearing the electric gates opening, was waiting by the front door to greet them.

      Daisy turned to Anna. ‘Poppy will look after you now. Hope you don’t think me terribly rude, but I must dash and try to catch up with a few things before I walk back down to Cannes. I expect we’ll bump into each other over the next few days, either here or in town. Enjoy the festival.’

      ‘Thanks for meeting me, Daisy. Do come over with Poppy and have glass of wine with me when you’re not so frantic.’

      ‘I’d like that,’ Daisy said. ‘Thank you. Ciao,’ and she ran down the path to the cottage, leaving Anna with Poppy.

      ‘This way,’ Poppy said, taking Anna’s suitcases and leading the way into the Villa Flora. ‘I’ve never rented the villa out before,’ Poppy continued. ‘I hope everything is okay for you,’ she added anxiously as she showed Anna around and explained everything she needed to know, including the code for the entry gates. ‘If there is anything I’ve forgotten to provide, you will tell me, won’t you?’

      ‘Please don’t worry,’ Anna said. ‘I’m sure you’ve thought of everything. It looks fantastic.’

      Long buttercup yellow curtains hung either side of the French doors and windows. A bookcase lined the wall alongside the fireplace and a small glass table holding some glossy magazines and candles was placed between a couple of inviting cream sofas with deep feather cushions. A large terracotta pot filled with lavender stood in the fireplace, infusing the whole villa with its perfume.