The Vineyard (9 page)

‘Sorry. Sophie, the conversation drifted. This is Cal. I met him when I went home to Mum’s.’

‘Oh, yes ok. Hello. Lizzie told me all about her…’ Sophie fumbled for the right word, ‘visit.’ Lizzie looked relieved.

Cal returned her a smile before he said,

‘Let me get you both a drink?’

‘No. Let me get the drinks,’ interrupted Charles, looking like he needed to escape as beads of sweat sprung from his forehead.

‘Oh, Charlie-boy, even better,’ Cal jested. What do you girls want?’ Lizzie was actually beginning to become annoyed at Cal as he popped himself into the seat next to her. She made a larger space between them in case he got too close. He wasn’t really behaving like she would expect. Maybe her mother controlled him so tightly when they were at home that he let himself relax a bit more without her reins. She looked over to Sophie.

‘A couple of beers would be lovely,’ she said and observed her friend. She had never once seen Sophie look as puppy-eyed as she did right now, clinging to Charles’ every word. She cleared her throat before she spoke to Cal. ‘So, what brings you here? Business or pleasure?’

‘Both. I had a business meeting today. Convinced Charles to come out for an hour’s pleasure rather than settle in a chair with his case notes and then I have another meeting tomorrow morning.’

‘You have a lot of business here it seems?’ Lizzie’s voice stung with sarcasm.

‘Yes, I’m afraid I have this passion for wine and it just so happens this region and its experts have a lot to teach me.’

She couldn’t help but detect a note in his voice too and wondered why. Or was it his flirty expression? She didn’t know whether she imagined it but he seemed to have almost a secret smile. When his eyes caught hers, his pupils enlarged and his cheek dimpled as his smile unfolded. There was definitely some high voltage between them, she couldn’t deny, but she shuffled back a little more to keep her distance.

This was going to be an interesting evening she decided. She wanted to ask him why her mother didn’t accompany him on his trips. Surely she would love the south of France – but it was none of her business. They sat in silence for a while watching Sophie ogle Charles. She really wanted to catch up and chat to Sophie about the new salon but there was very little chance of that now as a waiter arrived with a bottle of Champagne encased in a bucket of ice and four Champagne flutes.

‘Thought this might be easier!’ announced Charles. ‘Couldn’t bloody remember what it was you asked for anyway.’

‘See what I mean, he doesn’t get out much,’ Cal said. Lizzie chuckled whilst noticing Sophie was still looking quite fascinated with Charles as he fumbled with handing out the slim flutes and then, with a shaking hand, poured the bubbly. Sophie passed the filled flutes around.

‘Thank you Charles. Cheers,’ Said Lizzie.

‘Good health,’ Charles said.

‘Sante,’ Cal said raising his.

‘And congratulations to our new business.’ Sophie clinked first Lizzie’s glass and then the guys.

‘Yes. Of course. To Beaute Dedant,’ Lizzie clinked her flute with Sophie’s.

‘To Beauty Within!’ Charles translated.

‘So what do you guys do?’ Sophie asked.

Cal and Charles glanced at each other with mischievous eyes. Then Charles spoke. ‘As little as possible! No. I’m in law here in France, family law mainly and my good friend here, I’m sure Lizzie knows, is into his wine, although he has quite a CV, with his naval captaincy and his .com business and, of course, I forgot to add fatherhood too. Cal has a son Jack, it’s a pretty eclectic mix.’

‘Wow, you are both busy boys. What’s the .com business?’ Sophie’s Champagne was slipping down a treat and Lizzie was pleased to see her friend relax, although she was surprised to hear Cal had a son, Jack. She wondered if her mother knew and, for her own sake, she needed to determine whether her mother was married to Cal. He was not wearing a wedding ring.

‘It was something my father and I set up some years ago. Land searches, online conveyancing,’ Cal expanded. ‘Speeding things up for solicitors you might say.’

‘Oh Lizzie, someone else with some business acumen,’ Sophie squeezed Lizzie.

Cal kept his eyes on Lizzie as she nodded approvingly. He winked and Lizzie felt her legs tremble. Was she supposed to feel flattered or furious?

‘Quite far removed from the navy Cal,’ Sophie probed. ‘How come?’

‘My dad was the main driver, I helped to build it with him but it just took off. Right time, I suppose.’

Lizzie, still not sure what to think of Cal, wanted to ask him about his son and was waiting for an opportune moment but the chatter continued about their new venture as Sophie revealed more about their plans for the new premises in Rue Antibes, and just as Lizzie began to relax a little with the bubbly lightening her head, Cal announced it was time to go. He had an early start. Charles then agreed as he did too and, being sensible, Lizzie conceded, she and Sophie didn’t want to be setting off late to Provence.

They finished their Champagne. Sophie gave her friend a sad face. Cal pecked Sophie goodbye and, turning to Lizzie, slid leisurely towards her pursing his lips gently on both sides of her face. His touch sent a charge through her cheeks which rippled through her entire body. Shuddering with shock, Lizzie turned pink, thinking maybe her imagination was in overdrive. She certainly felt his magnetism but he wouldn’t. Not flirt with his lover’s daughter. That was how it seemed. Not only did it raise her hackles but she was exasperated that she didn’t get a chance to ask him some questions. She wondered if her mother knew of his son. Not that it was really any of her business of course.

Chapter 8

On the journey to Bonnieux, Thierry was soon napping in his car seat in the back of the car whilst Sophie, as well as navigating, relayed to Lizzie her attraction to Cal’s friend, admitting she was endeared immediately to the gentle blush of Charles Pitt-Barker. Lizzie was amused because she had never, since knowing Sophie, seen her this animated about a man. Sophie told Lizzie that she’d lain awake all night thinking about him and how he was the typical public schoolboy she usually ran a mile from.

‘Oh Lizzie. What was it that made him so appealing? Was it his casual but quiet confidence do you think?’

‘You were only saying yesterday, you should keep things simple,’ Lizzie reminded her.

‘I was wasn’t I? Well, it wasn’t his yacht, nor was he sweeping me off his feet with sweet nothings or smart chat up lines. I liked his looks and maybe it was his disinterest that struck me?

Aware that she was wasting her breath, Lizzie stayed in the zone with her friend. ‘He didn’t make a play for you Sophie, maybe that’s what gives you a buzz; you like the chase? From what I could see, boy you were intent on getting on his radar.’

‘Oh dear, was it that obvious? Note to self – must be more cool.’ They both laughed.

As the car neared the descent from the hills, Sophie became increasingly distracted and as Lizzie turned the wheel on Sophie’s instruction, they came to a junction.

‘This is beautiful,’ Sophie said, admiring ancient buildings and narrow streets as they approached the village of Bonnieux. ‘It really is as pretty as the brochures.’

‘Yes, I thought you’d like it.’ Lizzie jiggled smugly in her seat. She swung the car into a narrow opening and into a shady spot in the car park. ‘Nous arrive.’

The hotel in Bonnieux was quite possibly where Thierry was conceived. It was one of those romantic hideaways you could never forget. A luxury room in an exquisite setting, overlooking the Provencal landscape. A haven to enjoy stunning sunsets as droplets of light danced and dowsed its guests in a light shower of seduction. When Lizzie stayed there with Anton she fell in love with – the hotel. It was an amazing place to savour a romantic ambience. Rather too romantic for a family holiday but she so wanted to relax and show its beauty to Sophie. They managed to check in early. Unpacking was simple as Lizzie had kept clothes to a minimum. She waited in anticipation as Sophie pulled back the heavy drapes to allow in more light. As she did so, she saw her gasp at the captivating vista.

‘Oh Lizzie, this is divine.’ The late morning sun shone blissfully over lavender fields to one side in the distance, with sweetening leaves on the vines down the other. ‘I can’t wait to explore the area.’

‘And I can’t wait to show it off.’ Lizzie tied her hair back and donned a light straw hat before gathering a bag and a hat for her little one. ‘Let’s go.’

For the first two days they took advantage of the early cooler hillside temperature and the freedom of just rambling along at a child’s pace through the vineyards, the hilly paths and the forest of cedars, taking it in turns to carry Thierry when his little legs tired. After lunch and his afternoon nap, they swam in the hotel pool and relaxed in the late sun.

Lizzie was just beginning to forget her troubles with Anton when, on their second evening as they were sitting on their sunbeds playing with Thierry, her mobile rang. Marie-Claire, Lizzie’s nanny, sounded harassed.

‘Lizzie, I should warn you. Anton is in hysterics. He rang the apartment to speak to you. I told him you and Thierry are on holiday but for some reason he thinks you have taken Thierry to England with the Englishman,’ she said. ‘I’ve done my best to reassure him you are in France and away just for a few days but he don’t believe me I know.’

Lizzie took a deep breath. ‘Calm down Marie-Claire. I will call him. I should have given him my mobile number.’

‘I don’t know why he say England?’

‘No, neither do I. Just take the telephone off the hook Marie-Claire. I will ring him ok?’

‘Yes, please ring him,’ said Marie-Claire, ‘he is a mad pig.’

Lizzie nodded to herself, her au-pair had summed him up quite quickly. ‘Oh, and Marie-Claire, did you tell him exactly where we are?’ she said quickly before she put the phone down.

‘No. I said you are in France on a vacation,’ she said.

‘Good. Ok. I’ll speak to him. Don’t worry.’

‘Lizzie. For goodness sake!’ Sophie cried. ‘What the hell is wrong with that man? It sounds like he is trying to control you again.’ Pointing to her arm she continued, ‘Look, I’ve gone all cold with goose bumps. Poor Marie-Claire!’

‘Who knows? I hope Marie-Claire is ok though. It’s all so urgent since he saw me that day with Cal.’

‘Cal does seem keen on you, Lizzie,’ Sophie teased. ‘Would you?’

‘No. No. No way,’ Lizzie frowned, looking sternly in to Sophie’s eyes, ‘I don’t believe you just asked me that. And anyway, I wouldn’t go there! He obviously likes a more mature woman.’

‘That was defensive,’ Sophie laughed. ‘There was quite a noticeable spark between you two the other night. Anyway, so what if you were with someone, anyone. It’s really none of Anton’s business, or mine, for that matter, who you date.’

‘Shall I continue?’

‘Sorry, carry on,’ said Sophie.

‘As for Anton, I think he’s just being his scheming self, unable to accept that he cannot control me.’

‘That sounds plausible.’

‘But, he’s also mentioned the Englishman again to Marie-Claire, which makes me think he’s more fixated on Cal rather than Thierry. I hadn’t heard from him for weeks before that.’ Lizzie filled Sophie in about her meeting with Anton at his hotel.

‘That’s so hilarious,’ Sophie roared. ‘He’s decided he wants to fulfil his role as a daddy and he thinks you’ll just drop everything and depend totally on him.’

‘So, he knows the score, there is no future for us, so, he’s being contrary. Wants me dancing to his tune I imagine.

Anyway, Dr Pitou, I’m rather shocked you saw anything other than Cal’s friend, erm, Charles?’

‘God, yes, he’s gorgeous. So unpretentious and rather endearingly shy.’ Sophie fluttered her eyes.

Thierry was now getting fidgety and increasingly aware he wasn’t the girls’ centre of attention.

‘Swimming pool Mummy?’

‘No it’s late darling. We will be going up to get showered for dinner soon.’

‘Swim,’ he repeated, then he moaned, rubbing his belly. Lizzie, glancing at her watch reached into his buggy.

‘A little early for dinner T but Mummy has your juice here,’ and she passed him his beaker of water with just enough orange juice to pacify a sweet taste. Thierry’s eyes lit up at the sight of his refreshment and his chubby little hand rose up to take the cup. ‘What do you say T?’ Lizzie prompted.

‘Thank you.’ He raised the beaker to his mouth.

Smiling tenderly down at her son she said proudly. ‘Good boy.’

Inside her head though, her thoughts were churning over. Was Sophie close to what was going on inside it? Would she want Cal if he wasn’t her mother’s lover? Sophie had struck a nerve and it was a question she couldn’t answer. It seemed he wasn’t one to trust though. She could swear he was flirting the other night.

Placing her son in his shaded pushchair with his drink, Lizzie returned her attention to Thierry and his father and the immediate situation. The thought of phoning Anton and answering his pathetic childish questions was unbearable. Frowning, she turned to Sophie.

‘I really don’t want Anton to know my whereabouts Sophie. I really couldn’t cope with him right now.’

Sophie lay back sinking into her bed closing heavy eyes and mellowing in the soothing warmth of the afternoon. ‘Quelle surprise! Why tell him. It has nothing to do with him anyway what you do. If he is beating himself up so much that you’re in England then text him and tell him to ring your phone. The ring tone would be different if he was ringing England.’

‘Genius Sophie,’ stated Lizzie ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’

‘Because you are too pre-occupied with him finding you and giving you unwarranted grief and goodness knows what. That’s why,’ relayed Sophie, her eyelids still hiding her eyes. ‘If he really insists on knowing where you are, tell him the Alps. That’ll keep him busy for a while trying to find you.’

Lizzie burst into laughter imagining Anton’s fierce face with his dilemma. The graceful undulating green hills of the Luberon were much softer than the massive majestic mountains of the Alps – but it would not altogether be a lie. ‘What would I do without you Soph? You minx,’ she giggled. ‘It could take him a while to figure that one out.’