Читать книгу The Vineyard - Karen Aldous - Страница 10

Chapter 2

‘I should be with you about nine Sophie. Is that ok?’ Lizzie placed her mobile in front of her on the table. The carriage was thankfully quiet as the train made its way to Paris at high speed. Her voice was very controlled, but her tears still persisted. It had never occurred to her that anything would ever happen to her grandfather. It was like reliving the nightmare of her father’s death. The shock that someone so big and strong and loving could perish just like that. The mind didn’t comprehend such tragedy and she certainly hadn’t anticipated it. So, family: none as far as she was concerned. With her grandfather now gone and, being betrayed by her own mother, that chapter was now finished. Lizzie closed her eyes, her mind brimming full of the brief but bitter day’s events.

Arriving on the third floor at her friend’s apartment, Lizzie threw herself sobbing into Sophie’s arms as soon as she opened her door.

‘You look awful Lizzie – what is it?’ Sophie picked up the luggage, set it down again and then took a hesitant step forward. Lizzie could tell by her friend’s actions and flushed complexion that she was at a loss for what to do next.

‘Leave the bags on the floor Lizzie and I’ll deal with those in a minute. You need to sit down before you fall down – come with me.’ Sophie led Lizzie to the sofa in the sitting room. The French doors, open overlooking the street, let in the traffic noise which became suddenly stressful. Sophie sat her distressed friend down and pulled the doors in to dull the intruding city.

‘I’ll just take your bags from the corridor and put them in the hall. Don’t move.’ she instructed. ‘Right,’ she said on her return, ‘you need a drink and a good listener I think!’ Sophie poured two glasses of French red wine and placed one on a small table near to her distraught friend and one-time colleague.

‘I am so selfish Soph,’ Lizzie said, throwing her head into her hands. ‘I suppose I thought I was being smart.’

‘Tell me please, what’s happened?’

Lizzie took a gulp of the wine and swallowed with aggrieved satisfaction. ‘I finally made that trip to see my mother and grandfather. I told you I was going back to England to see them – to tell them about…’

‘Yes. And?’

Lizzie swirled her wine steadily around the glass for several seconds before she managed another gulp and swirled some more.

‘Well…’ she sniffed. ‘I saw my mother this morning and at first everything was going fine, she was actually really pleased to see me but then…,’ she added shakily, ‘she told me my grandfather died last year and…, my mother has some toy boy or…or new husband, I don’t know. Anyway, she has moved a stranger, a man, her lover into the house, no doubt to keep her entertained. God knows how he manages to listen to her garble on about herself all the time and, not only has he moved into my home, my father’s and my grandfather’s home, but she has leased him my land. The land my grandfather left me for my equestrian centre is now a vineyard. A vineyard would you believe it? All mum could say was’ “It’s produced lovely sparkling wine – just like French Champagne”’ Lizzie’s high-pitched mimicry of her mother suddenly trailed off into tears. She then gulped another large mouthful from her glass, finishing it.

‘Whoa! There’s a lot going on here.’ Sophie grabbed a tissue from the box on the coffee table and swiftly nestled into Lizzie on the sofa. ‘Come here,’ she said, embracing her gently. ‘Come on. Sophie’s here,’ she said, stroking her friend’s thick, softly curled hair, soothing Lizzie’s emotions. ‘I’m so sorry about your grandfather. I wish there…’

‘I’m really not seeking sympathy – not after the way I behaved, I just needed to talk to you. I’m so sorry imposing on you like this but I was just so shocked…and trying to get my head round it all. I swear she put my grandfather up to agreeing to lease the land to her boyfriend for her own interest. She’ll only pursue what makes her happy. Her toy boy will have to have a heart of concrete, a fucked up mind and hopefully a strong fist to put her in her place!’

Lizzie leaned back, folding her tissue and dabbing her face. Her mind skipped to her mother’s lover, trying to recall his name, but images of his masterful, strong hands and broad shoulders momentarily intercepted and she caught her breath.

‘That’s a bit strong Lizzie. Calm down. Fancy, your mother has a toy boy? I can’t imagine my mother…no,’ interjected her friend, jolting her out of her reverie. Sophie was facing her and shifting hair away from Lizzie’s damp jaw.

‘Cal.’ she recalled his name. ‘Oh Sophie, you should see him, he is gorgeous, far too good for her.’ She tried to blur the image of him as it became vivid, his neglected ash-brown hair that was spattered with glistening gold tips draped across his mesmerizing dark eyes and his lips, oh those lips, so perfectly plump and ripe for kissing. Flutters surged through her core.

‘Lizzie, really. You’re angry as well as upset! You’ve obviously had a very nasty shock or, should I say, a few nasty shocks today, plus all that travelling you’ve done. Let me run you a nice warm bath. I’ll make you something to eat while you relax.’

Lizzie did as she was told and soaked a while in the bath, doing everything she could to thrust Cal from her mind. What was she thinking? Attractive as Cal was, he was in a relationship with her mother. He loves her. It was outrageous to even think about him. Get a grip girl.

***

‘I think it was a mistake to go back home,’ Lizzie admitted, tying the bath gown around her waist and following a welcoming spicy aroma to where Sophie stood in the kitchen stir-frying vegetables in a pan. Guilty now that she had severely lost her appetite, she wondered if Sophie’s efforts would all be in vain. Her friend gave her a sisterly smile.

‘Actually no, I don’t think so, on the contrary. It hurts now but you had to do it sometime and today was as good a time as any. Did you tell your mother about Thierry?’

‘Luckily, no, thank God. I feel so much for Thierry. What was I thinking, bringing a child into this world with no proper family?’

How was she to explain all this to Thierry when the time came? ‘He’s a happy, healthy child Lizzie.’

‘But he will only know me and an au-pair, Marie-Claire! Oh, yes,’ she gave Sophie’s elbow a quick squeeze, ‘he also has his lovely aunty Sophie too, of course.’

‘Absolutely’ Sophie nodded as she gathered some cutlery for the table. ‘Aunty Sophie is definitely not going anywhere.’

‘It’s really sad and I really wish Thierry had had the opportunity to meet my grandad. He would have loved him. I have so many fond memories. I must have really let grandad down when I didn’t return home.’

Her throat tightened as his kind old face flashed across her mind. She was, after all, all he had left after her father died. He’d suddenly lost a son, his only son, and she couldn’t imagine anything worse than losing a child. She had lost her father but to witness her grandfather and grandmother cry really hurt. Whilst her mother appeared so indifferent, so unemotional, arranging the funeral and nagging her to do her homework when all she wanted to do was hide away in her room and cry and think of him. Lizzie swept her wet hair back and clipped it.

‘I’m just so relieved I didn’t take Thierry along, how bloody awful that would have been.’

‘Take it one step at a time. You’ll be fine.’ Sophie scattered place mats on the table. ‘I know you will Lizzie. You’re a survivor and I’m sure you will sort things out once you’ve had a chance to think about them rationally. Your emotions are all over the place at the moment and, who knows, you may meet that someone special who will bring you happiness. Have you heard anything from Anton since?’ Sophie enquired.

‘No, nothing, which is strange after his angry outburst when he found out about Thierry. I wonder if he’s changed his mind. I’m just so glad I stayed away from that relationship. Can you imagine? That man must be totally deluded if he thinks he could become domesticated.’

Lizzie squirmed remembering the scene several weeks ago. He’d caught her completely by surprise, demanding to know if her child was his. Not only was she shocked but also unprepared. She openly admitted Thierry was his. Anton was furious, demanding to know why she hadn’t told him. Why would she? He wouldn’t have been interested. He wasn’t that interested in his son now. No, she imagined Anton’s only interest was himself and the control it could give him.

‘Well considering he was threatening to get custody when you saw him.’

‘Bizarre yes. I should have just denied Thierry was his. I’m so stupid.

‘Well, like he said, he could have a DNA test.’

‘That’s it. It’s so easy nowadays. So bloody annoying and when he told me that his sister Colette was sure the child was his, it unnerved me because why would she come to the salon when they have their own spa at the hotel. Do you think they’ve suspected for a while?’

‘No, Anton would have questioned you before. Perhaps they don’t want to be that intimate with their own staff.’

‘Maybe their staff refuse to treat them more like. I don’t have contact with her if I can help it.’

‘Or it could simply be she likes the best.’ Sophie nudged her friend.

‘C’est vrai! Or, maybe she is Anton’s spy’. Lizzie raised her hand pretending to hold a magnifying glass.

‘Ha! Planning a grandchild snatch!’ Sophie mocked.

‘Well, they can think again. He’s my son. I’ve been controlled enough by my mother – I’d have been mad to have been sucked in to his lifestyle of drugs and paranoia. Hardly child-friendly.

‘Absolutely, you did the right thing.’

‘Yes, just me and Thierry. No Anton. No mother. We’ve managed this long. Well, I don’t know what I’d have done without you, of course. But I’m not going to give my witch of a mother any more of my precious time and I’m certainly not giving her the opportunity to start controlling Thierry’s life. Like I said, my only regret really is that Grandad didn’t meet Thierry and vice versa. They would have so loved one another.’ Lizzie made a sad face. ‘They were my main reason for going home. I’m sure anyone in their right mind wouldn’t have bothered returning to see a mother like mine. Thankfully, I have you.’ Lizzie blew a kiss as she looked lovingly at her friend. ‘It’s a shame we don’t live closer.’

‘Actually, I have some news on that score.’ Sophie’s voice brightened as she brought the dinner plates and placed them on the table, then looked up with a wide grin. ‘I have been accepted to lecture at the Nice University two days a week and can finally move south.’

‘Oh Sophie, that’s wonderful. All your hard work is paying off. All those years. I’m really, really pleased for you.’ Lizzie threw out her arms in an excited lunge towards her friend and squeezed her tight. ‘I’m so sorry it’s all been about me. We should be celebrating your good news. So, does that mean…?’

‘Yes. I can be your plastic surgeon and chief filler if you’ll still have me join Beaute Dedans?’

‘Oh my God, yes. I’ll go and get a bottle of bubbly’.

‘No need.’ Sophie opened the fridge and produced one. ‘I went out and bought one as soon as you said you were on your way. I didn’t know what you had just been through then though’.

‘All I can say is, thank God I have you. You are my family. We need to celebrate.’

The Champagne cork popped and sprang to the ceiling to both their delight and giggles.

‘I am so excited.’ Sophie squealed, pouring the sparkling nectar into two Champagne flutes.

‘Oh you know how to cheer up your best friend. That’ll be so amazing. We’ll be able to see much more of each other. Congratulations! Sante!’ They both lifted their glasses as joy replaced the tears. ‘Here’s to you, Dr Sophie Pitou, soon to be lecturer and, leading plastic surgeon in Cannes!’

‘Oh Lizzie it’s amazing. All those plans we had when we were in Meursault at the Campsite. Well, we are certainly getting closer to our dream and the university environment will help so I can keep up with research and development, trials and new ideas.’

‘I have every faith in you Dr Pitou.’

‘Thank you Ms Lambert I’m sure your make-up and beauty treatments will complement my procedures perfectly.’

‘Absolutely.’

The next morning, the alarm sounded at six and both girls woke with groggy heads. Sophie rushed to the shower whilst Lizzie made fresh coffee in the kitchen. ‘Oh I hope I haven’t made you late for work.’

‘No don’t be silly. I have plenty of time, I just need something to soothe the head.’

‘I have some paracetemol in my bag,’ Lizzie said, digging into her handbag and pulling out the packet.

‘Thanks. I’ll have just one please.’ Sophie popped the pill and sat quickly at the table.

‘I think I’ll take one too, otherwise I’ll have this all day.’

I’ve been thinking,’ Sophie started as she began sipping her cooling coffee. What if we spend some time together soon, the three of us, you me and Thierry? We can take a short break up in the hills, in Provence or something, later this month?’

‘Ahh! May is too busy for me, the salon will be bursting! We have the Film Festival, the music festivals, plus the Monaco Grand Prix. June would be better.’

‘Yes, of course. Well let me know when you can, before it gets too warm and before I move down. I have some leave to use up. We can take Thierry on some walks, get him used to some hiking, maybe even some camping,’ Sophie said excitedly.

‘Walking yes, camping no. Not until next year when he’s nearer four. I might as well enjoy a bit more luxury while I can. I’m sure he’ll love the camping though, like his mum and Aunty Sophie.’ Lizzie said recalling the vibration of excitement kids had at the campsite.

‘What child doesn’t like camping?’ Sophie said.

‘Well too much like hard work just now. I will book a hotel I know. You will love it, I know you will.’

‘Brilliant. I will be busy anyway handing over patients’ files and letting the apartment.’

‘Oh yes. I take it you’ve handed your notice in then?’

‘I finish officially in mid-July.’ Sophie stood up, beaming proudly.

‘Great. What about Guillaume?’

‘Well I haven’t officially served notice on him yet.’ She sat back down cradling her head. ‘I’m not looking forward to that.’

***

Thierry was cosily tucked up in bed when Lizzie arrived back at her Cannes apartment. She couldn’t resist spending a few hours with Sophie in Paris and, of course, doing a little shopping. Sophie managing a long lunch break. Thank God for Thierry’s nanny, or au pair really, Marie-Claire. She was such a gem and Lizzie counted herself lucky to have found her as she couldn’t have afforded to pay for full-time childcare. Not when she started out in Cannes. She entered Thierry’s room to watch her beautiful child lie sleeping so peacefully and so deliciously unaware of the previous few days’ events. She visualised her grandfather playing on the floor with her little boy just like he did with her. He would always get down to her level, physically and mentally. Although she was sure his agility would have waned. He just loved to have fun though, whether playing tea parties or being plastered in mother’s make-up, he didn’t complain.

He taught her lots too. He would read to her when she was small and, whilst her father was still working, he always made sure she understood her words and they would make a game of who would find a word in the dictionary first. His love of numbers was reflected in his fun ways to make her maths homework enjoyable too. He had a knack for explaining concepts. He always said if he hadn’t inherited the house and land and, like his father, gone into farming, he would have loved to have taught maths.

His other passion of course was animals. They would go together to check on the cows and sheep and if any of them showed any signs of ill health or disease, Thomas, the vet was called in, which was always an adventure - until Cider had to be put down of course; her lovely old golden retriever her grandfather had bought her when she was just two years old.

Her mother would always complain about the mess animals made and was dead against another dog. Not that she was ever there anyway to clear up the mess, preferring her job and social life. Thank God she had her grandfather. Lizzie’s eyes filled again as she thought about her grandfather and the memories and regrets that overflowed in her head.

It was a long time before Lizzie finally relaxed into a much-needed sleep and very early when she awoke. Thierry was jumping all over her. She gave him a big kiss and explained to him that she and Aunty Sophie would be taking him on a holiday in the mountains. She then drew her child into her arms, brushed his dark hair with her hands, then held him closer to her and gave him a huge hug.

‘Mummy loves you so, so much. We will be just fine. You and me.’

‘Bonjour, Lizzie. Ca va?’ Marie-Claire stood at her bedroom door and Lizzie greeted her with a beaming smile.

‘Bonjour, Marie-Claire. Thank you, yes I’m ok. The trip was a little shorter than anticipated but I’m pleased to be home. The salon aren’t expecting me today so I’ll spend the day with Thierry – that is, if there’s nothing you have planned with him?’

‘Non. Nothing that cannot wait,’ replied Marie-Claire and she turned to make her way to the kitchen. ‘I’ll make the breakfast.’ She left mother and son in their loving embrace.

‘Come on Thierry, we can be getting washed and dressed. Let’s have a day out.’

***

Lizzie drove to Aix-en-Provence and parked her car.

‘Come on little man, we will have a walk round the market and look for some goodies and then I’ll take you to have a special lunch.’

The market was brimming with stalls containing appetising, fresh local produce such as vegetables, cheeses, nuts, breads, fine patisseries, cold meats, sweets, as well as beautiful fabrics. Thierry immediately spotted the sweet stall and both he and Lizzie had fun choosing from the delicious selection. Happy with his little mix of sweets, bagged by Lizzie as a small pacifier, they walked on to a cheese stall. Lizzie selected some Gruyere, Emmental and Reblochon, her favourite mountain cheeses, and they walked on through a narrow street to the wider Avenue of Aix town.

Thierry toddled along, joyfully clutching his mother’s hand as they reached the vintage clothes market stalls on the Cours Mirabeau: Lizzie’s heaven when she needed some escapism. She loved the wide selection of classic or haute couture from which to browse and choose, children’s as well as adults’. She found a beautifully tailored wool-mix suit, perfect to wear separately as well as chicly together with a plain top. For Thierry, she spotted some brightly coloured trousers and married it with a funky t-shirt. Her son gave an approving nod then immediately tucked his little hand back into his bag to select his next sweet.

‘Make that your last one sweetheart, we’ll stop for lunch soon and you won’t want to ruin your pizza, it’s your favourite,’ Lizzie said as they crossed the Cours Mirabeau.

‘Pizza?’ Thierry repeated. But before she could answer, Lizzie was stunned by a figure walking in their direction.

‘Errr… yes we can go to Chez Jo….’ She trailed off, tightening her grip on Thierry’s tiny hand. It was too late. The figure was approaching them. Her heart both pounded and whirled at once. Her throat dried, her head told her to flee, she could only hope he didn’t recognise her but he was in front of her now and there was no escape.

‘Hi, Lizzie isn’t it?’ Cal quizzed as she stared at him in disbelief. Not only had he recognised her but had remembered her name. Lizzie wanted to pinch herself, if only to calm her nerves. Without her brain’s consent she became instantly mesmerised by seductive eyes melting her like chocolate. His alluring scent threw her senses sideways. It was hard not to be weakened by his tall, strong body with its screaming presence. A confidence emanated from him as he spoke while hers, along with her mouth, went dry as she replied cautiously.

‘Yes. Hi.’

What on earth was he doing here and why? Her feelings were mixed. On the one hand she didn’t want anything to do with her mother’s toy boy. But she couldn’t ignore her attraction to him. Perhaps he was hoping to muscle in on her life as well as her mother’s. But surely he didn’t know she was here in Aix. Or did he? Surely her mother hasn’t sent him to follow her around. No. Her mother was many things, but surely not that desperate to have her followed. For goodness, sake she told herself, she was becoming paranoid now. But how strange!

‘Wow, I can’t believe my luck bumping into you like this. I’m in Aix on business but I was intending to head down to Cannes to look for you in the beauty salons. Your mother said you have a salon in Cannes so I thought I would take the opportunity to find you.

‘Why? Is my mother with you?’ Lizzie’s suspicions surfaced immediately.

‘Sorry no! But listen, I do have an appointment to keep now. Can I meet you tonight or tomorrow maybe? I would like to talk to you.’

Lizzie’s defences sprung up like a coil of wire had been released.

‘No, and to be honest, we have nothing to talk about. My mother and I have nothing to say to one another. In fact the further away I am from her the better. She has all she wants! No doubt she has sent you here.’ It wasn’t a question, rather a statement of fact. She spoke with such fierce animosity that Cal stood momentarily speechless. His eyes captured hers, weakening her. She squeezed Thierry’s hand tightly.

‘I have to go,’ she said.

‘But I thought you’d returned home to make amends.’

‘I don’t wish to talk about it.’

‘Lizzie, I want to help. Your mother was pretty upset when you left.’ He shifted his weight from one leg to the other in a gesture to stop her moving forward.

‘I doubt that. Anyway, we have nothing to say so, thank you for your concern. Goodbye.’

Lizzie moved forward to leave and could only drop her eyes down in shame with her outburst. She wasn’t usually so rude. Nor aggressive, her anger surprised her – she was angry with him just for helping her mother.

‘Lizzie, please, a moment of your time?’ One hand brushed her forearm very softly but the magnitude of the effect jarred her. Her body radiated an intense heat, an instant chemical reaction. She looked up at him, embarrassed, and searched his eyes. She wondered if he felt that fire too. He reached inside his jacket and was just about to speak again when she broke in.

‘I…don’t want…’ she stuttered, trying to get past.

‘It’s just my number in case…’

‘I don’t see any point. You’ll waste your time.’

‘Ok. Ok. That’s fine’. He said as he drew out a small card and pushed it deep into her handbag. ‘Give me a call if you change your mind. I’ll be here until Sunday afternoon’. Lizzie grabbed her bag to retrieve the card but Cal turned and left.

‘Come along sweetheart.’ She squeezed Thierry’s hand and strode off as quickly as she could, with Thierry almost running, in the direction of Le Rue Espariat. Briefly she halted to watch Cal as he crossed the Cours Mirabeau.

All through lunch at Chez Jo, Lizzie was on edge. She couldn’t believe how much Cal affected her. She cursed herself for being attracted to him. Why had she allowed him to get to her like this? What did he intend to do anyway? Did he really think she would forgive her mother? Did he know the full story, she wondered. After all he would only be aware of her mother’s version of events. Surely, their cosy little set up didn’t need her in their way anyway?

When they returned home, Marie-Claire was still out so Lizzie made some gingerbread men with her son before bathing him and dressing him for bed. After reading him a story, she was tired too and took herself off to bed. It was impossible to sleep though with so much playing on her mind.

‘Shit!’ she shrieked as the realisation dawned. Cal would have seen Thierry. He never questioned her about him. She never introduced them. What would he assume? He would go back to her mother and reveal she had a grandchild. That was the last thing she wanted to happen! It was important for her to break this news personally, if at all. ‘What a mess.’ She would have to ring him but it was too late tonight.

From six thirty the following morning she paced her apartment having given up trying to sleep. At nine she punched in his mobile number.