by Allen, Anne
of St Emilion and a carafe of water.
After raising their glasses in salute, they sipped their wine.
‘Lovely! A good choice, Andy.’ Charlotte picked up her menu. ‘Now, what shall I choose? Can you recommend
something?’
Andy went through the choices, glad she wanted his input and conscious of her desire to put him at ease. It
was years since he’d dated and he’d felt out of the game when he hit forty last year. But this woman re-kindled
the desire to become close to someone again, though he knew she was recently divorced and might not be
interested in a relationship…
Once they had placed their order Andy asked how the research was going since she had found the police file
concerning Edmund’s death.
Charlotte frowned. ‘I’ve found references to the existence of collaborators but so far haven’t found names
mentioned, by either the Germans or the local government. I’ll keep looking, but…’ she shrugged. After taking a
sip of her wine she added, ‘It might be time to consider talking to people still alive, preferably anyone who lived
in St Martins. Word would have got around if someone was snitching on neighbours, surely?’
Andy was finding it hard to concentrate on what she was saying; she was so attractive. ‘Mm, you’d think so,’
he replied, bringing his mind back to the conversation and trying to think of the best way forward. ‘Parish
records would help. You should be able to find the names of those still around who would remember the war.
That generation didn’t move around much, tending to live in the same parish all their lives. You could contact
the rector for potential interviewees for your “research”.’ Andy paused, struck by an idea. ‘How about asking
Jeanne what she wants to know for her own book? Then you’ll be a genuine researcher!’ He grinned broadly.
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‘What a brilliant idea! I wouldn’t be lying to the rector then, thank goodness. Which would have made me
very uncomfortable. I can’t wait to get started.’ Charlotte’s eyes gleamed with pleasure and Andy was hooked.
She looked radiant and oh so sexy in that dress! He was going to find it hard to separate business from
pleasure…
The food arrived, providing a welcome diversion from his erotic thoughts. For a few moments they
concentrated on eating before Andy asked about her own family. Tears, quickly wiped away, appeared when she
told him about her father’s death and then went on to mention her mother had been ill. He gripped her hand in
sympathy.
‘I’m sorry, you’ve had a rough time, haven’t you? I shouldn’t be bothering you with my family’s problems.’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘Don’t be silly. It’s proving to be good therapy for me. Saves me thinking too much,’
she said with a wry smile. ‘I do miss Daddy dreadfully, as we were particularly close, but my relationship with
Mother is…strained. I love her because she’s my mother but don’t really like her much, if that doesn’t sound too
awful. How about you? Do you and your mother have a good relationship?’
‘Yes. French mothers are renowned for being super strict with their kids, but mine was much more laid back.
Perhaps it would have been different if I’d been brought up in France. My French grandmother’s a bit scary!’ he
said, laughing.
‘My maternal grandmother was too, so we have something in common.’ She speared a piece of lamb before
asking, ‘Do you speak French? I can imagine how useful it would be here with such a strong French influence.’
‘I do. As Dad was bought up in France he was bilingual from the word go and he and Mum often chat in
French at home so it was natural for me to learn. I can’t speak the local patois, though. And you? I know you
speak German.’
‘I studied French and German at A level, along with English and kept them up at uni but I’m not terribly
fluent. But enough to translate documents and menus!’ she said, smiling.
‘Being bilingual was a plus at school as French, naturally, was one of my strong subjects and I always got top
marks. The other boys thought I had an unfair advantage and didn’t like me for it,’ Andy said, the memory of
school causing him to frown.
‘You weren’t happy at school?’ Charlotte asked, head on one side.
‘Junior school was fine, but secondary…Not really. Felt like a fish out of water. You see, I was a scholarship
boy. After achieving top marks in the eleven-plus, I was awarded a place at Elizabeth College, the private boys
school. I’d rather have gone to the grammar with my friends, but my parents thought it was too good an
opportunity to turn down. But it wasn’t easy coming from a relatively poor family and mixing with the sons of
the wealthy.’
‘Oh, I can imagine. Did you not have any friends?’ She frowned.
‘How can you imagine what it was like? You must have gone to a posh school yourself,’ he said sharply.
‘I did, as you say, go to a posh school. But a few girls were admitted on bursaries, like yourself, and I became
friends with one of them. We got on extremely well and she confided in me about how hard it was going back
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home in the holidays and being ignored by the friends she used to have before she boarded. So I do have some
idea of what it must have been like for you,’ she said, looking him in the eye.
He felt wrong-footed. ‘Sorry, it…it was presumptuous of me. I did have a couple of friends at College, but it
wasn’t the best of times. I was happy to get away to university.’ He grinned. ‘What’s funny is some of those boys
who ignored me back then have become my clients since, so I guess being a poor local lad has paid off!’
After a noticeable coolness in Charlotte’s responses, Andy was able to steer the conversation into the safer
waters of hobbies and interests. He sensed she had become reluctant to say too much about her background,
briefly mentioning the family home was in Somerset and wondered if it was to do with their disparate
backgrounds. Apart from that they seemed to share similar interests such as books and films and as the meal
progressed Charlotte seemed to thaw a little and he was glad he hadn’t bottled it. As he dropped her back at
Louisa’s he asked what she was doing at the weekend.
‘I haven’t anything planned. If the weather holds thought I might pop over to Herm as I haven’t been over
yet.’
‘Sounds good. Would you like a lift? I can borrow Dad’s boat and show you round if you like.’
‘I…I’m not sure. Wouldn’t it be taking up a good part of your weekend?’ Charlotte’s smile looked hesitant and
he wondered if he’d been too quick to suggest such a trip. He hadn’t planned to ask her out again so soon but
now he had, he could hardly back out. Perhaps it would be better if she said no and they could go back to being
acquaintances. He had messed up earlier…
‘No, it’s okay, I love any excuse to go over to Herm. It’s such a great place to relax,’ Andy said trying to sound
convincing.
‘In that case I would like to accept.’ This time Charlotte’s smile lit up her face.
He said he’d need to check the times of the tides before making firm arrangements and would phone her.
They stood in the doorway while Charlotte fished out the key from her handbag.
‘Right, I’ll say goodnight. See you tomorrow,’ Andy said, before pulling her towards him a
nd kissing her on
both cheeks. Pulling back, Charlotte smiled and said, ‘Goodnight, Andy, and thanks for a lovely evening.’ She
opened the door and waved as he returned to his car. Driving off, he told himself he was a fool and wondered
what kind of day he had let himself in for.
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chapter eleven
Andy phoned Charlotte the next morning to say he would pick her up at ten. This gave her time to call her
mother. Their conversation was brief.
‘Hello, Mother. Have you had the tests?’
‘Oh, it’s you, Charlotte. Yes, and for once I wasn’t kept waiting. I do so hate it when other people are not
punctual–’
‘Yes, I know. And when do you get the results? I can fly over and accompany you–’
Her mother gave an exasperated sigh.
‘Don’t be ridiculous! As I’ve said before, I’m perfectly capable of attending an appointment on my own. And,
as it happens, I’ve been feeling somewhat better lately and I’m sure it’s all a fuss about nothing. My appointment
is in ten days’ time. I assume you’re still on that island – Guernsey, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, I am.’ Charlotte groaned inwardly. It was like talking to the proverbial brick wall! ‘Look, Mother, will you
at least promise to call me when you’ve seen Dr Rowlands? So I know everything is all right.’
‘If you wish. Now, unless you’ve anything else to say, I must be off. Can’t hang around on the phone all day,
you know.’
‘Goodbye, Mother, I’ll wait for your call. Take care.’ She clicked off the phone and threw it on the bed in
frustration. Determined not to let her mother’s intransigence spoil her day, she pushed down her annoyance –
and concern – and forced herself to smile before joining Louisa for breakfast.
‘How did it go last night? Good, er, meal?’ Louisa asked, smiling as she set out muesli and juice.
‘It was lovely, thanks. Lively and good food, just as you said. And Andy proved to be great company.’ She sat
down as Louisa placed a mug of coffee in front of her. ‘He’s taking me over to Herm today in his father’s boat and
offered to give me the grand tour. Should be fun,’ she said, trying to keep her voice neutral.
Inside, she wasn’t quite as sure. The thought of a day with such an attractive man was both heady and
worrying. Where on earth could it lead? Nowhere was the honest answer. But at least it would stop her thinking
about her mother.
Louisa’s eyes rounded.
‘My, he hasn’t wasted any time, has he? Paul had said he was shy where women are concerned. Just goes to
show men don’t understand each other any more than they do us women.’ She pulled out a chair opposite and
took a sip of her own coffee before adding, ‘I think he must fancy you, after all. And you’re keen, too, methinks.’
Charlotte nearly choked on her drink.
‘Well, he is attractive but we’ve only just met and hardly know each other, so…’ she said, waving her free
hand. Where had Louisa got that idea from?
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‘Would you be interested in a relationship if he was?’
‘It’s too soon to speculate, but I’m definitely over Richard, thank goodness, and would like to think I’d meet
someone again one day. But at the moment men are not top of my agenda.’ She found herself growing
alternately hot and cold as Louisa stared at her and dropped her eyes, focusing on her muesli.
Louisa appeared to let it go, asking if she would be back for supper. Charlotte assumed so but said she would
phone if not. They continued with their breakfast while Louisa chatted about her own plans. Paul was taking
Sunday off and they were going out for lunch and a drive.
‘You’d be welcome to join us, of course.’
‘No, you two need some time on your own. I’ll be fine. Might walk into town and have some lunch. It’s a pity
the shops are shut though–’
‘Why don’t you borrow my car? We’ll use Paul’s, then you can go wherever you like. Okay?’
‘Thanks, I’d like that. I’m sure there are loads of places I haven’t been yet.’
Louisa made a few suggestions before they cleared away the dishes and Charlotte nipped upstairs for a final
freshen up. She was waiting downstairs when Andy arrived, dressed in jeans and a patched Guernsey sweater.
‘Morning.’ He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before scrutinising her outfit of cotton slacks, long sleeved T-
shirt and cotton sweater. ‘You’ll need something a bit warmer for the crossing, as it’s chilly on the sea this time
of year. Have you got a jacket or something?’
‘Sure. Give me a minute.’ Charlotte ran upstairs to fetch a lightweight padded jacket.
‘That’s better. You can leave it in the cabin when we’re ashore.’ Once in the car he headed down towards St
Julian’s Avenue before turning left at the roundabout.
‘Oh, where’s the boat? I’d assumed it would be in the marina,’ Charlotte said, pointing to the QEII marina in
front of them.
‘Dad keeps it at Bordeaux. It’s near his house and cheaper to moor there. It’s not far.’
They fell silent and Charlotte gazed out of the window, conscious of his closeness as Andy drove along the
coast to The Bridge in St Sampson, circled the harbour and followed the road to Bordeaux. He pulled into the car
park and pointed to a white motorboat with a small cabin, dipping gently on the water a few yards from shore.
‘There she is. Can you roll up your trousers to wade out? Or will I have to carry you?’ he asked, a wicked grin
splitting his face.
She laughed. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll cope! Not sure you’d manage the weight!’
He shook his head. ‘I could carry you, no problem. But if you can walk, so much the better, as I have to get the
fuel on board. Right, let’s go.’
Slinging their trainers round their necks they approached the shore with Andy carrying a jerry can. It was
high tide and moments later they reached the boat. Andy hopped aboard first and gave Charlotte a hand. Once
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the tank was re-fuelled he started the outboard and pointed the boat towards Herm, clearly visible straight
ahead of them.
Charlotte settled onto a seat opposite Andy and watched as he steered. She fought down a tinge of unease,
feeling vulnerable in such a small craft. She had imagined it would be larger, with proper seats and a steering
wheel like the smart boats lined up in the marina. This looked like a toy boat in comparison and was a new
experience for a landlubber like her. Not wanting Andy to think she was a wimp, she fixed a bright smile on her
face and told herself to relax. He was the son of a fisherman, experienced with boats and clearly knew what he
was doing. Turning her head she focused on Herm, its golden beaches topped by green fields and trees. She had
agreed to come with him and there could be no turning back, in spite of the chill running down her arms.
‘It looks beautiful, doesn’t it? Will it be packed with people on such a lovely day?’
Andy, keeping one hand on the tiller, pushed his hair back with the other. ‘No, the odd thing about Herm is,
no matter how many people pile in for the day or even longer, you only ever find a crowd in the pub. After their
pit stop, everyone drifts off to different parts of the island and none of the beaches ever get crowded. Mind you,
today isn’t hot enough to lie on a
beach for long, so most will be taking long, leisurely walks.’
She let her gaze travel over the fast diminishing stretch of water. ‘Gosh, this is quick. I expected it to take a lot
longer.’
‘Takes about fifteen minutes. Much quicker than taking the Trident and I’ll be able to drop you off by the
harbour. So you won’t get your feet wet!’ he said, with a grin.
Charlotte smiled, twisting her head round to watch the east coast of Guernsey fall behind. Dotted between the
two islands were rocky outcrops which Andy skilfully avoided with quick flicks of the tiller. Beyond Herm the
outline of Sark reared up; a reminder of the fun day she and Louisa had enjoyed in the spring. Moments later
and the harbour wall was upon them and Andy cut the engine as he manoeuvred close to the steps, taking hold
of the rope as he jumped out.
‘Okay, if you get out now, I’ll moor up properly and join you in a minute.’
She climbed to the top and watched as he throttled up and moved a few yards away before dropping anchor
and wading the few feet to the beach. As he joined her on the jetty he asked what she wanted to do first.
‘I’d really like a coffee, please. I need warming up,’ she said, rubbing her arms. Although the day was warm,
she still felt the chill from the boat ride.
‘Sure. Let’s head to the Mermaid and we’ll soon have you warm again.’
He strode off to the left, passing shops hidden behind brightly coloured displays of remnants of the holiday
season. Bargain-hunters chatted happily as they searched the rails and bins for the must-have buys. Charlotte
was entranced as she took in white stone cottages covered with flowers and shrubs rubbing shoulders with the
little shops. Perhaps Andy was worried she might join the shoppers as he moved on quickly to the adjoining pub.
For a moment she wanted to hold back and look at the shops, annoyed with Andy. But admitting to herself she
needed a coffee more than shopping she let him lead her on. She could go shopping later.
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‘Inside or out?’ he asked, as they walked under the stone arch into the courtyard, filled with benches and
