Читать книгу One Moment At Sunrise - Karen Aldous - Страница 13

Chapter 4

After checking all the signs at the entrances to the bridge, Ben returned to the café at Capestang. His legs wobbled more so now than earlier. Slouching in a cushioned chair, he wiped sweat from his beaded forehead and ordered a Pastis. Something bitter-sweet for his taste buds. How would he have ever lived with himself if anything had happened to that mother, never mind the consequences for her daughter? It had really brought it home to him – just how important it was to ensure an area was properly managed. It could have ended in complete carnage and put paid to the whole project. His biggest fear; years of hard graft, down the pan. But, he clutched his temple, a beautiful young mother could have lost her life. Had the mother not found that almighty strength today, she could have possibly been permanently maimed, or even killed. Her child could have been left motherless in so many ways.

A waiter appeared and laid down a square tissue, placing a glass on it and pouring a short measure of water into it.

‘Merci,’ Ben mumbled, adding more water before taking a gulp. The heat of the aniseed shot to his throat instantly, numbing it like he’d dived into freezing water.

‘Here you are,’ Samantha turned a chair around and positioned herself opposite him.

‘Oh,’ Ben said, gripping his throat, ‘you made me jump.’

‘I expect you’re still upset about that episode.’

‘Yes. It shook me up, I can tell you. It shouldn’t have happened. Thought I’d get a stiff drink before I got back. Thank God she’s ok.’

‘I’m with you there. She’s a sweet girl.’

‘That’s what I thought. Unassuming. I can’t believe she didn’t make more fuss.’ Ben said, recalling her strength and dignity, and how struck he was by her natural beauty.

‘Well lucky for us, she didn’t. I think I’d be grateful to be alive too from what I’ve heard. Jamie said it was pretty horrific, we’ve got the scene shot if you want to take a look. Anyway, the guys are ready to go when you are.’

Ben ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his forehead. ‘I don’t wish to see a replay, once was more than enough. I’ll be over in a minute then I’m going to drive into Beziers to find a bike shop.’

‘Ah, speak to Trevor, he will know where to go. Actually I’ll WhatsApp him.’ Samantha pinched her phone out from her gilet chest-pocket and began tapping her fingers on the screen.

Ben leant forward and grabbed his glass, the spicy aroma catching his nostril before he swallowed another mouthful of Pastis. Not as good as the first but still refreshing. It had eased the rattling nerves. He sat back again as he watched his assistant. She had every resource to hand, as always. He wondered whether he should run Evie’s idea about the peasant women past her. Perhaps it was too soon. He’d considered his script strong. His protagonist, Pierre-Paul Riquet, was a highly tenacious man and doggedly fastidious in overcoming every obstacle to get the Canal du Midi built. The backers liked it. His storyline contained plenty of conflict and meaty action. Riquet was a man of steel which contrasted so ironically with the softness of his heart; a family man devoted to his wife and five children and, for his time, mid-seventeenth century, admiringly committed to his workers. It was extraordinary to hear Evie’s take and Ben was keen to know exactly what history his books hadn’t disclosed.

Samantha’s phone wailed, jogging his attention. She scanned the screen. ‘Aha, he recommends a shop in St Chinian. Cycles Mari.’

‘Great stuff Sam, thanks. Ok. Are they ready? Let’s get this shot and I’ll get going. If it’s ok, while I’m gone, get the guys to carry on with shots of the buildings, vineyards or whatever is listed on the schedule. My head is not really on the task right now. Is that ok?’

‘Completely.’

Crashing past overhanging shrubs the following morning, Ben drove along the bumpy track to the gates where he had dropped Evie off. Out of the car, he peered through the tall iron gates facing the substantial two-storey villa with shutters drawn and little sign of anyone home. Checking the area around the gates, he located a bell and pushed it twice. As anticipated, there was no response. Back in the car, he grabbed his pad from the passenger seat and scribbled down a note asking her to call him with a suitable time to deliver her bike. He padded back over to the gates and searched for a letterbox or somewhere she would see the note. It was then he heard voices. Turning, he saw Evie pull a gate closed across the track, wheeling a buggy towards him. With her hair blowing in the breeze, and her glowing complexion, his pulse increased. What he saw was even more beautiful than he remembered. As she neared, he clenched each palm, one of them containing the note. He slid it into his pocket.

‘Hi,’ he said, feeling himself drawn to the shimmer of her eyes. ‘You look amazing. How do you feel today?’

‘Yes, good. Grateful to be alive, as you can imagine.’

‘Your leg?’

‘Sore, but fine.’

‘Good stuff.’ He knelt down to the buggy. ‘Charlotte, I presume. A beauty like her mother. Hello Charlotte.’

The little girl backed away, eyeing him with suspicion. She held her lips between her fingers.

‘If you’re wondering if I’m going to sue you, then don’t worry. You don’t have to be nice on account of me causing trouble.’ Evie said, catching him by surprise. He remained crouched as she continued. ‘Let’s just say we all had a lucky escape. As long as your people make more effort to cordon areas off, to be absolute certain no one is allowed to wander. I won’t make trouble. I take it that’s why you are here?’

Ben stood up and faced her. ‘Believe me, we won’t take any chances. I had nightmares last night thinking about what could have happened, and I wouldn’t blame you if you wished to pursue a claim.’ He held out a concerned palm. ‘I was told a sign was in place but it evidently wasn’t visible enough, so we are responsible. I’ve brought you a form to fill in to claim any damages.’

‘No. I just want to erase the whole incident.’

‘Your call.’ Ben stepped back towards the car. ‘And… I’ve brought this. I could have had it delivered I suppose, but I have a new bike for you. I’m afraid your bike was beyond repair. The chassis was weak and deemed unsafe.’

‘What, you bought a new one?’

Ben scratched his collar. ‘Well, yes. You said you couldn’t manage without one, and I did try to get it to you yesterday but they had to build it. I’ve just collected it. It will need tightening in a few weeks, or before if you use it frequently.’

She held her lip. ‘Oh, Jesus. This is embarrassing.’

‘Why?’

‘My other one wasn’t even brand new when I had it. You didn’t have to. You could have just got a second-hand one.’

Ben grinned. ‘I’m so sorry. If you don’t like it, I can return it and get something you would like. You choose.’

Feeling touched by her concern for his spending, he reached out to the back of his hire car and opened the rear.

‘Take a look.’ He reached up and heaved the heavy frame out, bouncing the sparkling new bike on to the gravel. ‘Try it. If you like it, I’ll fit the child seat on.’

‘It’s lovely.’

‘It’s a hybrid, like your other one, so it can be used on most terrain. Try it for height.’

Evie stepped away, pushing the pushchair in front of her. ‘No. I can’t accept this. It’s…’

‘Of course you can,’ Ben cut in ‘to be honest, I’m more than pleased I can do something for you. I feel terrible after what happened. Please, try it. I can adjust the saddle if it isn’t right.’

A flash of distrust crossed her face as he watched her pondering in silence

Clutching both hands, he raised his brows for a response. He was sure he’d done the right thing and the last thing he wanted to do was upset her. It wasn’t only that the whole film would be in jeopardy if they were sued, he also hated to see women upset. You can’t change who you are, he reminded himself. That’s what his sister, Hannah, told him when he raced to her side if she cried or had been troubled. His sisters often took his side. There were five years between him and Hannah. Both she and his eldest sister, Nicola, seven years his senior, were the sweetest. They argued among themselves at times but were just like mini-mummies’ to him, and he’d always felt torn if he had to take sides when the pair of them were in dispute, or if they argued with their mother. They would also protect him from his elder brother too, who constantly jibed him about his dyslexia. He now wondered if his sisters’ closer bond with him was the root cause of his brother’s attention-seeking behaviour. Anyway, this girl was far too wonderful to upset and he needed to change tack.

‘Ok. Perhaps it would be better if you tell me what you want?’

‘I thought you were going to fix my bike, not… not bring me a brand new one. That’s all. I feel it’s too much.’

‘Well, I can’t change the facts. The bike wasn’t fixable and I couldn’t see any second-hand bikes where I was, so I got the next best thing. I promise you, I chose this because it resembled everything about your old one – the size, the colour, the gears, the saddle, even the height should match yours. It wasn’t expensive if that’s what you’re worried about. Try it out before you decide. You definitely can’t ride your old one.’

She looked down at the buggy and turned it around, shading the girl from the full sun, then gazed up to him, her eyes bright but suspicious.

‘I’ll give it a go along the track,’ she relented and pressed the brake down on the buggy. ‘Erm, I’m now going to offend you but can I take your car keys with me? I’m just not happy leaving you with Charlotte.’

Ben sucked in his amusement but she was quite serious. Instead he smiled. ‘Yes, of course. Chain her to the gate if you want or would you prefer me to go?’

‘No. Just your keys.’ She held out her hand.

Ben reached into his pocket. He shut his rear door before clicking it locked. ‘Here.’ He pressed the keys into her hands, passed her the bike and stepped back against the car, not daring to touch the buggy. She swung her leg over the saddle and rode off. He scratched his head, feeling he should say something to little Charlotte whose mummy was cycling away, but he kept his lips sealed.

‘Mummy bike.’ Charlotte said.

‘Mummy gone.’

‘Where Mummy gone? Where Mummy gone?’

Ben coughed. ‘Mummy coming back.’

Charlotte threw herself forward in her pram. ‘I want Mummy,’ she urged in panic

Ben scratched his neck and looked around him, hoping no witnesses could hear and accuse him of terrorising the child.

‘Mummy,’ she called. Evie was now at the other end of the track and turning back. She waved.

He knelt down beside her. ‘Mummy waving. Wave to Mummy,’ Ben told her and demonstrated by waving his hand in the air. ‘Mummy coming.’

It seemed to do the trick and the little girl’s expression transformed to a smile. Evie gathered speed.

‘Mummy come.’

Ben breathed a big sigh as Evie slowed and squeaked the brakes a few feet away.

‘Mummy,’ Charlotte’s legs began kicking.

‘Yes, it feels really good.’ Evie said. ‘Rather nice.’

‘Good, so you’ll happily use it?’

‘Yes. Thank you.’

‘I’ll put the child seat on.’

‘Thank you. Do you need a spanner?’

‘No, it’s all here. Ah, but I do need the car keys back.’

Evie twisted her mouth with a wry grin and delved into her pocket. ‘Just a precautionary thing, you understand,’ she said, passing them into his hand.

‘Sure. I’d do the same.’

Ben scrambled into the back of his car while Evie inspected the detail on the bike. He couldn’t help grinning to himself at her quirkiness. He found her so endearing; worrying about a replacement bike, for goodness’ sake. She didn’t seem ungrateful, more suspicious about his motives maybe, and, rightly so, very protective towards her child. He was pleased she had finally accepted the bike now though and wondered if it might be a good moment to ask her about the research. He was so enthused by her peasant girls and eager to know more.

‘Mummy out.’

‘Oh, sweetheart. Yes. You can come out.’ Evie told her child, unclipping her from the buggy. ‘We can have a little ride in a minute. We’ll pop down and see what Monsieur Fish has for us today.’

Swinging around while unwrapping the polythene wrapping on the child seat, Ben seized his moment.

‘You know you’ve created quite a dilemma for me?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘My script for Riquet. I can’t stop thinking about what you said about the female peasants from the mountains having an input to Riquet’s building of the canal.’ Ben mounted the seat while Evie held the bike. Charlotte watched curiously.

‘It’s your script. Your film. You do what you want with it. It was just an opinion, that’s all.’

‘But you are so passionate about them, their story. I can’t help feeling, especially if it’s fact, it should be added. And as you’re a journalist you probably know all about research and love digging out these types of stories… so, could you do some further research on this for me? And quite soon.’

He watched her face with caution, but her face lit up.

‘Well, yes, I’d love to. I did my journalism course before Charlotte so although I have the core skills, I haven’t had buckets of experience. I know the library in Beziers like the back of my hand, and the information centre in Colombiers, I’ll try and locate some primary sources too.’

‘Great, I want passion, I love your passion. All my team have passion. That’s enough. Great, do you work freelance now?’

‘No. I… don’t work. Well, I’m toying with the idea of working now that Charlotte’s a little older.’

‘But why didn’t you continue with your journalism?’

‘Apart from a few placements, I didn’t really get out to work. Lost confidence, I suppose.’ Her head swung down, scanning the floor.

‘Seems such a waste,’ Ben said, adding the last nut of the seat.

‘I know, my mother wasn’t pleased, I can tell you, but I’ve been busy with Charlotte anyway.’

‘You do want to do it, don’t you? I mean…’

Her head flipped up with such high velocity, a sweet peppery fragrance wafted from tresses of blonde hair. ‘Hey yeah, of course. It would suit me perfectly.’ Her eyes shone with such brutal honesty he swore he could see right into her soul.

‘Parents always have high expectations. I know mine did, but I didn’t want to become an architect like my mum, which she would have liked. I’d like to make them proud one day though, just as a thanks.’

‘Bit late for me now. Damage has been done.’

‘I bet they love their granddaughter.’

Her shoulders shrugged. ‘I doubt it. Well they might if they came to see her.’

Ben rubbed the side of his head and bit his lip. Maybe that was a bit too honest. ‘Well, anything you can dig up would be appreciated. Where these women came from, who they were, was there one in particular, did he have an affair or affairs? Apart from the labouring, what were their roles, ages, anything? I can give you an advance for expenses etc., and pay you hourly or a set fee? Have you got email?’

‘Oh, er. I’ve got your card with your email on. Shall I email you?’

Ben sensed a hesitation. ‘Yes, fine.’ Ben tightened the last bolt on the seat and asked her to put Charlotte in. They all seemed happy with the result. ‘Oh, I’ve got you a new helmet in case there was any damage to yours. I hope it fits.’ He went to the rear of the car and took out a box while Evie balanced her daughter on the bike.

‘You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble. Can I get you a drink?’

‘Like I said, it’s the least I could do. Anyway, I’d better get back to the set, so thank you for the offer. And,’ he reached inside the car, ‘the claim form. Here.’

Evie leant the bike and Charlotte against her hip and took the sheet of paper. ‘Huh, don’t be silly,’ Evie said, tearing it in half and half again, ‘the research work will be far more rewarding, thank you.’

Ben waved as he left. He would have loved nothing more to have stayed with them longer. Her charm was infectious. He felt her warming to him and was delighted that she would help. The fact that she had the training was a bonus. He drove to the end of the track and turned onto the narrow road. An approaching car swerved past him to the other side of the lane, overshooting into a small opening. He waved an apologetic hand at the driver as he drove off. It was a small Fiat, he noted, but the driver looked a lot like the singer, Seb Wilde. ‘Bloody hell, could he be her partner, and Charlotte’s father?