by Allen, Anne
combination of yoga and the ministrations of Lin and other therapists had worked the same magic she had
experienced in the spring. Stopping by a colourful display of deep red roses, she bent to breathe in their heady
scent and was immediately transported back to her parents’ garden in Somerset.
Her mother was inordinately proud of her roses, entering them yearly into the village floral competitions and
had always won First Prize. Not surprising as her parents were the local nobs, presiding over local functions
with genteel bonhomie. Her mother had always been a snob, but after her father was knighted and she became
Lady Annette Townsend, she was much worse. Charlotte used to cringe at the way she talked to staff and
villagers, so different to her down-to-earth father. He would never have laid claim to being responsible for the
efforts of others, unlike her mother. The fact their gardener was responsible for the lushness of the roses did not
seem to stop Annette from accepting her due as a woman with the greenest of green fingers. Something
Charlotte could never lay claim to, being hopeless with anything so practical, but she did know the names of
plants, drummed into her by her mother from childhood.
Continuing her walk, and admiring the last of the sunflowers and delphiniums standing tall in the sunshine,
she wondered how her mother was coping in the house on her own, albeit with the servants. Charlotte bit her
lip, feeling the familiar pain of her father’s death two years ago. Taught never to display emotions in public, it
had been difficult to cope with her loss until she received counselling here in the spring. The grief had been
exacerbated by her husband’s desertion shortly after and she had become depressed. Gazing now at the daylilies
bowing their heads gracefully in the gentle breeze, Charlotte knew she had come a long way since then, but was
not as strong as she liked to appear. Boarding school had coated her with a veneer of independence and self-
confidence, but inside she was a woman who needed to be loved. As she had been by her father, but not, she
thought, her mother: always keen to find fault. And loved only briefly by her ex-husband.
Charlotte made a supreme effort to recapture the feeling of calm now being sabotaged by her memories and
imagined herself in a bubble of light, as taught by Molly, the counsellor. It worked and she was able to smile
serenely at a passing fellow guest. Glancing at her watch, Charlotte realised it was nearly time for her t’ai chi
class and made tracks inside.
As she passed the reception desk Nadine called out to say Jeanne would be in the following morning for her
massage and would be happy to meet for a chat afterwards. Charlotte smiled, wondering if Paul had passed on
her offer of help. Even if he hadn’t, she looked forward to talking to Jeanne about the proverbial writer’s block,
although a part of her was afraid she was simply a lousy writer. Something far too hard to accept – yet.
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At eleven the next morning Charlotte experienced mixed emotions as she made her way to the sun lounge to
meet Jeanne. Although it would be lovely to catch up with her, she was having second thoughts about becoming
involved with Andy’s research. It would be a wonderful diversion, but it would mean spending time with Andy
and he was too attractive to ignore, even by someone bruised by men. Jeanne was watching for her and waved
before standing up to share a hug. Charlotte found herself smiling in spite of her unease.
‘How are you? And congratulations on your baby girl. Is she well?’
Jeanne, displaying dark circles under her eyes, but otherwise looking good with gleaming hair and glowing
skin, smiled broadly.
‘We’re both fine, thanks. Fortunately I have quick and easy births and we were home again the same day. But
I could do with more sleep!’
Charlotte ordered a juice before replying, ‘I bet! But you look wonderful and it looks as if you’ve lost the baby
weight already. What does Harry think about his sister?’
‘He adores her, although he was a bit unsure initially when we told him he had a sister. He’d wanted a
brother to play with, but once he held her he was hooked and smothers her with kisses,’ she laughed. ‘I now
have to stop him trying to pick her up from her crib whenever he can. And yes, I’ve almost lost the extra weight.
I’ve been following the healthy recipes Chef cooks up and even Nick’s hooked on them. So, how are you? How’s
the book coming on?’ Jeanne looked at her quizzically.
Charlotte took a deep breath. ‘Not great. I thoroughly enjoyed the research, but I’ve been finding it difficult to
empathise with my main fictional character and how she would behave at that time. Modern characters would
be so much easier, but I love the eighteenth century so…’ she went on to describe in more detail what seemed to
be holding her back.
Jeanne was sympathetic. ‘I can understand the problem. You need to fully immerse yourself in the time-
period – the sights, sounds and smells. What people wore, how they talked, etc. Not easy, but possible. Have you
read any novels set in that time?’ She went on to make more suggestions, admitting she had suffered from
writer’s block a couple of times and Charlotte began to feel less of a failure. She was simply inexperienced and
needed to hear how other writers dealt with such issues. Months before she had joined a local writing group for
support using her pen name, but unfortunately someone had discovered both her real name and her role as a
publisher and she had been bombarded with submissions. She left immediately, but missed the camaraderie.
Jeanne then brought up the subject of Andy and his family.
‘Paul said you’d like to help with the research which is fine by me. But surely you won’t be here long enough
to trawl through old records and interview people?’
‘I can stay longer if need be, so it’s not an issue. Even if I did have to return home for some reason I could
always come back. My deputy takes over when I’m away and he’s excellent. Totally trustworthy, thank goodness.
I’ve finally learnt the art of delegation.’
Her friend grinned. ‘A pity I can’t delegate the night feeds! But Nick doesn’t possess the, er, right equipment.
But at least he does spend a lot of time with Harry when he’s at home. And he’s become quite a good cook since
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my first book came out.’ She sipped her juice before adding, ‘Would you like me to ask Andy how he feels about
your offer? I understand you met briefly a few days ago.’
‘Please. Andy might not remember me as he really wanted to talk to Louisa about Jim. But I’d understand if he
didn’t want a stranger involved. He…seemed a nice guy,’ she said, recalling his warm, brown eyes and sexy body.
And quickly pushed away the image as once again she questioned the wisdom of offering to help. Apart from
anything else it would be so embarrassing if Andy was completely uninterested in her.
‘He is, apart from the chip on his shoulder about the division in the family. And the fact his father was denied
his inheritance. Definitely some bitterness there, but otherwise he’s a decent guy, if a bit of a workaholic.’
They returned to the subject of writing for a while longer until it was time for Jeanne to leave for Freya’s next
feed, promising to phone after she had spoken to Andy. Charlotte was left wondering if she woul
d be
disappointed if Andy said no to her offer. It was too close to call.
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chapter six
The following day Charlotte was relieved to be diverted with an excursion with Louisa, who had a free day.
Much as she enjoyed being pampered at La Folie, it was good to get out and explore the island while the Indian
summer held sway. They had enjoyed many hours sightseeing during her last visit and today planned to explore
the south coast around Jerbourg Point. But first she had a yoga class to attend.
‘So, have you heard from Malcolm yet?’ Charlotte asked as Louisa drove towards St Martins.
‘No and I’m starting to worry. I know he said not to, but I can’t help it. Thought I’d give Glenn at the agency a
ring and see if he’s heard anything, as Dad booked the trip through him. At least I can trust Glenn not to blab on
me!’
‘True. How’s the business going since he took over?’
‘Very well, apparently. Glenn always sounds upbeat when we talk. Now Voyages handles all the travel
arrangements for La Folie, our clients are also using them for their other holidays. It’s been win-win since he
bought the agency from me.’
‘Good. Where was Malcolm when you last heard?’
‘Bali.’ She frowned. ‘Not best known for its health and safety arrangements.’
Charlotte had to agree but didn’t say so, not wanting to worry her friend further. ‘Hey, I’m sure he’s fine. Just
being a typical man and not staying in touch. And, to be fair, until recently he had no-one who cared about his
whereabouts. Being a father is still quite new for him.’
‘Uh huh. I guess. Anyway, I’ll ring Glenn and see what he says,’ Louisa replied before bringing the car to a halt
in the Jerbourg car park. ‘Right, let’s get walking.’
‘What a fabulous view! Herm and Sark are so clear and I can even see France. And that must be Jersey to our
right. I must get over there sometime. Have you been yet?’
Louisa shook her head. ‘No, but Paul wants to take me for a weekend once he gets the time off, which
hopefully won’t be long now Judy, his deputy’s back. One of our friends, Nicole, was born in Jersey and has the
use of her parents’ flat. We may be able to stay there when we finally arrange it. Would be nice,’ she sighed,
before turning to face Charlotte. ‘I forgot to ask how it went with Jeanne. You said you were meeting her.’
‘It was fine.’ She didn’t want to say too much as although Jeanne had given her hope, she still had to put her
ideas into action. ‘Jeanne offered me some helpful tips about writer’s block and then we talked about Andy. She
said she’d talk to him but I’ve not heard anything yet.’ Charlotte had more or less decided it had been a foolish
whim to offer her services and Andy wouldn’t want her poking her nose in even if it could be to his advantage.
She would need to find something else to give her a sense of purpose and stop thinking about her mother.
‘Oh, right. Well I’m glad she helped. Are you going to get back to your novel when you leave La Folie?’
‘That’s the idea!’ she said, forcing herself to smile.
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They stood on the edge of the car park drinking in the view. Herm, the smaller island, looking tranquil and
inviting, hunkered down in the sea, the nearest beach golden in the sun. Sark, on the other hand, rose up
majestically atop steep cliffs.
‘What a brill day we had in Sark at Easter. Have you been over again since?’ Charlotte asked, remembering
their fun day cycling on the island.
‘Yes, Paul and I had a day trip a couple of months ago and we’ve also been to Herm. Gorgeous! You must try
and get over while you’re here.’
Charlotte laughed. ‘What I really need is a retreat at La Folie followed by a stay in a hotel as a normal tourist.
That way I get the best of both worlds!’
Grinning, Louisa said, ‘You know, you could be onto something there. We could offer a double package for
anyone to do just that. Good thinking, Batman.’
Laughing, they set off eastwards along the cliff path, leading ultimately to St Peter Port. They were in no
hurry, the day stretched ahead and the sun warmed their faces, the peace only disturbed by raucous seagulls
wheeling overhead. The tang of the sea mingled with the scent of the flowering broom and heather. As she
chewed on a blade of grass, Charlotte remarked, ‘So much has happened to us both since the spring. But
particularly you. I don’t suppose you ever dreamt you’d end up living here, did you?’
‘Nope. I thought I’d find my father and then return to London and…well, pick up the pieces.’ Louisa took a
lungful of air and released it with a deep sigh. ‘It’s not been easy, as you know, but once that man was jailed for
killing Mum, it made it easier to embrace my new life. All I need now is to know Dad’s safe and spend more time
with Paul. Easy-peasy!’ She turned to face Charlotte, adding, ‘And what about you? Happy with the changes
you’ve made?’
Charlotte thought for a moment, not willing to be totally honest with her friend. ‘On the whole, yes. I’m no
longer upset with Richard and, frankly, he did me a favour. I’m more in control of my life now and there’s
something to be said for only having yourself to please.’ Except there was her mother … ‘With regard to my
writing, once I’m back on track it will be onwards and upwards.’ She smiled at her friend.
They linked arms and continued along the path, aiming to have a snack lunch at Fermain Bay before
returning to Jerbourg.
~ ~
Andy’s mobile rang.
‘Hello, Jeanne. How are you?’
He was surprised to hear Jeanne was offering a substitute for his research. Some woman called Charlotte who
was staying at La Folie. He’d met her according to Jeanne. After thanking her, he said he’d think it over. Once
he’d switched off the phone, he leant back in the office chair, tapping his fingers on the desk. Although keen to
find out the truth of what really happened to divide the family, Andy was wary of involving a stranger. Jeanne
was fine, married to one of his best friends and a local, he could trust her implicitly. But this Charlotte – who was
she? He remembered now he had met the woman, lunching with Louisa the other day. Apart from registering
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vaguely how attractive she was, he hadn’t paid her much attention. Just a guest of the centre. Jeanne had said she
was a writer and a publisher from London who loved research. Hmm. Swinging the chair from side to side, Andy
stretched out his legs in an effort to ease the stiffness from his morning run. So, Charlotte was well qualified to
help with digging up facts, but was she discreet? He stood up and paced around the clinical room constituting
his workspace: white walls covered in photos of finished projects and drawing boards bearing his latest plans.
He couldn’t work in clutter, needing to focus on the job in hand and although there was a window, it overlooked
a granite wall, offering not an iota of distraction.
What to do? Should he ask his father if he minded a stranger looking into the family history? As he pushed
against a wall while stretching his legs Andy realised that was a no-no. Jim was a private person and hated
talking about the family. Whenever Andy asked him why he had not pressed for his inheritance, he had beco
me
annoyed, saying he had come to an arrangement with Uncle Harold and not to interfere. Knowing any so-called
arrangement had not involved much, if any, money changing hands, Andy was exasperated as well as puzzled.
Something did not add up and although it was all right for his father to act as if he didn’t care about money, in
reality he needed it now he was retired – meaning Andy had to help out when he could without Jim finding out.
At least his mother Yvette was not too proud to accept the few pounds he handed her whenever he was round
for dinner. The thing which really stuck in his craw was the knowledge that his good-for-nothing cousin Dave
stood to inherit the family fortune and would no doubt blow it away on fast cars and flash holidays, assuming he
was not incarcerated at the time. The unwelcome thought prompted Andy to pick up the phone.
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chapter seven
As she stepped out of the changing rooms Charlotte was greeted by the sound of arms splashing their way
through water. Not a huge fan of swimming, she knew it would be a great way to stay toned, as Louisa’s fit body
confirmed. Her friend was a passionate swimmer and her trim shape was testament to the value of that passion.
Ideally Charlotte would have preferred to swim in a warm sea with mask and flippers while admiring the
brilliant colours of underwater creatures and coral reefs. Sighing, she accepted the beautifully designed indoor
pool at La Folie would have to do for now and slid reluctantly into the warm water. After a while she was
surprised to find it was almost enjoyable and managed twenty lengths before she climbed out, shrugged on her
robe and flopped onto a lounger.
Picking a juice from the selection offered by the hovering waitress, she settled back feeling rather smug.
Perhaps this exercise lark might not be too bad after all. She was determined to keep her slim figure after all the
hard work of watching what she ate, and exercise had to play a part. As she sipped her juice Charlotte allowed
her gaze to wander to the kitchen garden visible through the glazed walls. It had been barely established last
