Family Divided

by Allen, Anne

‘That’s good news, Mother. We could travel up to London tomorrow morning and I can drive you to

  Richmond later.’

  ‘Thank you, Charlotte. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to talk to Phillips.’

  Charlotte was left feeling as if she had been dismissed and gritted her teeth. It would seem her mother’s

  earlier softening was not yet permanent.

  They arrived at the house in Bloomsbury at eleven the next morning and Mrs Thomas, forewarned this time, had

  prepared a room for Lady Townsend. After taking their cases upstairs she served them coffee and biscuits in the

  morning room.

  Charlotte observed her mother as they sipped their coffee. She was concerned with what she saw. Her

  mother’s skin had a yellow tinge and the dark circles under her eyes were more pronounced. Her stomach

  clenched. Perhaps it was too late…She had been on the internet to learn more about metastasis of the liver and

  the prognosis was not good. But for her mother’s sake she had to be seen to be optimistic. The previous evening

  she had spoken to Andy and just knowing he was there for her helped. Once the chemo was over, she hoped to

  persuade Annette to return with her to Guernsey to spend some time at La Folie. Gillian was due to fly over on

  Sunday to stay with Malcolm so it would work out perfectly, as long as her mother agreed.

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  The drive to Richmond was slow, thanks to a build-up of traffic leaving London for the weekend, but they

  arrived in good time and Charlotte waited in an airy sitting room while Gillian took Annette off for the

  consultation. An hour later the women returned and Charlotte was relieved to see her mother smiling.

  ‘Thank you for bringing your mother, Charlotte. We’ve had a long chat and I’ve made up some remedies

  which will help mitigate the effect of the chemo next week as well as kick-start the healing process,’ Gillian said,

  turning to Annette and giving her a hug. Charlotte saw the flash of warmth between them and smiled.

  ‘That’s wonderful. Thanks again for seeing my mother so soon.’

  As they walked towards the front door, Annette turned to say goodbye, adding, ‘I look forward to seeing you

  next week.’ Charlotte was puzzled but followed her mother outside.

  ‘I understood Gillian was off to Guernsey, so how can you see her next week?’

  Annette smiled. ‘She told me how wonderful La Folie is and I’ve agreed to fly over after I leave the clinic.

  Gillian has offered to be on hand to begin a treatment programme. Wasn’t it kind of her?’

  ‘Yes it was. And I’m so pleased you’ve decided to stay at the centre. We can fly back together.’ Charlotte sent

  up a silent prayer of thanks as she started the engine. As long as the chemo went smoothly, she would be back in

  Guernsey on Thursday and free to see Andy again. Something which made her feel a great deal more cheerful.

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  chapter twenty

  The weekend was spent quietly with Annette resting most of the time and Charlotte nipping out to Frome to buy

  Napoleonic era novels as recommended by Jeanne. She wanted to fully immerse herself in the period before

  starting the actual writing. Her work for Andy and the talk with Jeanne had re-kindled the desire to crack on

  with the novel. Still a bit tentative, she began plotting a more thorough outline of her story. All being well, it

  would be something to look forward to after she completed the Batiste family history. Assuming there was more

  to learn, she told herself. The thought of not having a reason to stay in Guernsey for much longer was not a

  happy one. Even her mother being there for treatment was not entirely positive unless it worked better than

  hoped. She pushed it to the back of her mind.

  By Monday both she and her mother were feeling nervous about the chemo and although Annette looked

  pale, she told Charlotte she was feeling better. At least her skin was not as yellow and the dark circles were

  diminished. Annette credited the improvement to Gillian’s remedies and Charlotte was happy to agree. So far so

  good.

  Once Annette was settled in her room at the clinic Charlotte returned home. She would visit her mother in

  the evening and in the meantime arranged to meet her deputy, Tony, at the office to discuss, among other things,

  the new cook book from La Folie. The hours sped by and she left for the clinic uplifted by Tony’s enthusiasm for

  the project. Bearing a bouquet of heavily scented roses, she was ushered into her mother’s room to find her

  mother attached to a drip and barely awake. After a brief chat she left, promising to call in the following day.

  The treatment continued to take its toll over the next couple of days, but on Wednesday afternoon Charlotte

  was told her mother could leave that evening. It was a relief to see her colour had returned and Annette insisted

  she felt well enough to travel to Guernsey the next day.

  ‘I haven’t had the debilitating nausea I experienced last time and I’m sure it’s down to the pills Gillian gave

  me. Dr Rowlands is pleased with my liver function tests and said I will not need further chemo for four weeks,’

  Annette said, sitting upright in the chair, her packed bag on the bed.

  ‘Brilliant! The flight’s booked and Paul’s expecting you at La Folie. Now, let me carry your bag.’

  Annette walked unaided to the lift and minutes later they were in the car heading back to Bloomsbury.

  As the plane approached Guernsey airport Charlotte’s stomach fluttered with excitement. The week in England

  had brought home how much she loved the island and missed Andy. They were to have dinner together that

  night and she could barely wait. They might become even closer…

  ‘Well, it looks much smaller than I imagined,’ commented her mother, occupying the window seat. ‘And why

  are there so many empty glasshouses? I thought growing was a main industry here.’

  Charlotte explained how far fewer flowers were grown since cheaper imports from Holland and further afield

  had created strong competition. ‘La Folie was bought by growers after the war and before the house was turned

  into a spa, I understand old greenhouses were still visible. Tourism’s now a big source of income for the island,

  together with the financial industry, of course. I’m sure you’ll love it here, Mother. It’s a bit like Somerset, but

  completely surrounded by sea, with lovely cliffs and loads of beaches.’

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  Her mother smiled faintly. ‘I’m not sure how much time there will be for me to explore. I imagine most of my

  day will be spent at the centre.’

  Charlotte felt a pang of remorse. For a moment she had forgotten her mother’s illness and how weak she was.

  She touched her arm. ‘If you like, I’ll take you out in a car. We can circumnavigate the island in about an hour.

  And if you’re up to it, the cliff walks from La Folie are stunning and quite gentle.’

  Annette pursed her lips and Charlotte sat back, bracing herself for the landing.

  They were met by Doug, the gofer from La Folie, who welcomed them with a bright smile before steering

  them outside to the courtesy car. October had now put its stamp on the weather and there was a distinct

  coolness in the air even though the sun happily played catch with the soft white clouds. Charlotte relaxed into

  her seat while Annette looked out of the window, appearing keen to take everything in.

  As they turned the last corner in the lane leading to La Folie, Annett
e let out a gasp. ‘What an odd building! It

  looks like a Gothic castle and not at all what I expected.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mother, it’s beautiful inside and the back is more Victorian country house. I think it was aptly

  named, don’t you?’

  Charlotte led the way while Doug brought in their cases. She was going home with Louisa later and planned

  to stay for the afternoon, wanting to make sure her mother was well settled. She noted with amusement how

  Annette’s gaze swept over the old mahogany staircase and panelled walls, not unlike those of the Manor House.

  Catching her mother’s eye, she smiled. ‘See what I mean?’ she said. Annette nodded, looking more at ease and

  Charlotte continued towards the reception desk where Nadine, her hair spiralled around her head, was ready to

  greet them.

  ‘Lady Townsend, on behalf of La Folie, I’d like to welcome you as our guest and wish you a pleasant and

  healthy stay. Doug will take you up to your room shortly.’ She turned to Charlotte and grinned. ‘It’s good to see

  you again, Miss Townsend. Your mother will be in Serenity, which I’m sure you’ll agree is very comfortable.’

  ‘It is. Has an appointment been set up with Paul yet?’

  Nadine nodded, her curls bouncing in unison. ‘Yes, for two o’clock, so you have time for lunch. Oh, and Dr

  Henderson will call in about four.’

  ‘Thanks, Nadine.’ Charlotte turned to her mother. ‘While you’re settling in I’ll catch up with my friend Louisa.

  Nadine will show you the dining room and we can meet there for lunch.’

  Doug led Annette upstairs while Charlotte nipped along to the dining room to see Louisa. Time for a quick

  catch up.

  Before Charlotte left with Louisa later that afternoon, she visited her mother in her room.

  ‘How did you get on with Paul? Has he come up with a treatment plan?’ she asked, joining her mother on the

  small sofa near the window.

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  Annette, looking tired she thought, managed a small smile. ‘He seems very knowledgeable and was extremely

  thorough in his questions. Felt a bit like the third degree! But he has suggested various treatments and a

  combination of Ayurvedic herbs which, apparently, have been approved by Gillian. I think they must have put

  their heads together before I arrived, but I mustn’t complain as they are both being very kind and…and

  professional.’ She sighed and looked down at her hands, twisted together in her lap.

  Charlotte, aware of what her mother faced, laid her own hand on top of hers.

  ‘It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?’ she said gently.

  Her mother nodded and said she wanted to rest. Charlotte gave her a quick kiss and left, heavy with the

  thought that even though the alternative treatments would help, her mother’s illness was still likely to be

  terminal.

  Back at Louisa’s house, Charlotte quickly unpacked and changed for the meal with Andy. She forced herself to

  focus on the evening ahead and not what was happening with her mother. It was out of her control.

  Andy arrived, enveloping her in his arms and kissing her until she had to pull back laughing, needing to

  breathe. It felt so right to be in his arms, being kissed – and perhaps loved?

  He grinned. ‘I had to make up for not seeing you for more than a week. And now, Madam, I’m taking you to

  one of my favourite restaurants, Da Nello’s. Ready?’ he asked, his eyes twinkling.

  ‘I certainly am. Lead on.’

  While they drove down towards North Esplanade by the marina, Charlotte briefed him on what had been

  proposed for her mother’s treatment and he squeezed her hand in support.

  ‘All you can do is stay positive and be there for her. I’m pleased you suggested she stay at La Folie, which

  alone will do her good. Am I going to meet her?’

  ‘Of course. Although I haven’t told her about you yet as we’ve not really been going out. And it wouldn’t seem

  right under the…circumstances. But I will, in a few days when she’s feeling stronger,’ Charlotte replied, flashing

  a smile.

  ‘Good. I look forward to it. Now, for this evening at least, I hope you can relax and enjoy yourself. The food’s

  delicious and I think you’ll love the surroundings.’

  Andy parked on the Crown Pier and they crossed over and walked towards the Lower Pollet, a matter of

  yards up from Le Petit Bistro. He reached out for her hand and she allowed him to take it, enjoying the touch of

  his fingers on hers.

  ‘I’ve passed this several times and thought how intriguing it looked, with the engraved writing on the

  windows. And I love Italian food.’

  He gave a small bow. ‘If the Signora will follow me?’ He opened the door. She grinned in delight, and entered

  the small bar at the front of the restaurant. Once they had ordered their drinks they were presented with menus

  and Charlotte’s eyes widened.

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  ‘What a choice. It’s going to be hard to choose as I like virtually everything,’ she said, lifting her eyes to gaze at

  Andy. He smiled in return, saying she couldn’t go wrong with fish, a house speciality. Their Proseccos arrived

  and they clinked glasses in salute. The wine bubbled through her veins, and she let out a small sigh of pleasure.

  Delicious! For a while they were lost in contemplation of the menu, only marginally aware of other guests

  arriving and taking seats nearby. Once their order was placed, Charlotte studied her surroundings, taking in the

  exposed granite walls, white painted beams and limestone floor with a centred mosaic pattern.

  ‘This is fab. And it looks so old, but new if you know what I mean.’

  ‘The building’s about 500 years old and it’s been a restaurant for more than thirty. Cosy, isn’t it? And not too

  noisy so we’ll be able to hear each other speak. It’s… good to be with you again, Charlotte. So much better than

  talking on the phone,’ Andy said, lightly touching her arm.

  She smiled. ‘I agree. I think we’re both visual people and need to see rather than hear, yes?’

  The maître d’ arrived. He coughed. ‘Your table’s ready, Signor,’ he murmured, waving his arm.

  He escorted them through the main restaurant and up a short flight of stairs then down again into a room

  resembling a courtyard, with a pitched glazed roof. Their table was in a far corner and as they followed the

  maître d’ Charlotte spotted a plaque bearing the words Il Cortile.

  Once they were alone she exclaimed, ‘This is perfect! And I can see the moon. It’s like being outside, isn’t it?

  Thank you for bringing me here, Andy. Just being in this lovely space is food for my soul.’

  ‘You’re welcome. And I think you’ll find the food for your body is as good,’ he said, smiling.

  He was right. The food – and the company – matched the ambience perfectly and she found herself melting

  inside as the evening progressed. Andy made her laugh with his stories of mishaps during his career as an

  architect and the combination of fine wine and succulent food was increasingly seductive. She wanted to go to

  bed with him and was sure he felt the same, judging by the intensity of his gaze and the flirtatious playing with

  her fingers. He had even put a forkful of his food in her mouth to taste. Naturally she reciprocated and the sheer

  sensuality of sharing had made her heart race. By the time they finished dessert she was aching to feel his arms

  around her.

 
; ‘How about coming back to mine for coffee? I know it’s not exactly on the way but–’

  She didn’t hesitate. ‘I’d love to, thanks. I can always get a taxi home later.’

  They stared at each other, desire mirrored in their eyes.

  ‘Right, I’ll get the bill,’ Andy said, clearing his throat. Once the bill was paid, he steered her by the arm back to

  the bar where she was presented with a single red rose by the maître d’.

  ‘I trust you have had a pleasant meal with us, Signora,’ he said, bowing slightly.

  ‘Oh, I have. Very much, thank you,’ she said, with a lingering look at Andy.

  ‘Then I hope we will have the honour of seeing you again, Signora and Signor,’ he replied, opening the door.

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  Once out in the street, and uncaring of whether or not they were observed, they flew into each other’s arms

  and kissed. Andy was the first to let go. ‘I’d better get you home, young lady, before we disgrace ourselves in

  public,’ he said softly. She laughed and hooked her arm through his as he walked her back to the car.

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  chapter twenty-one

  Charlotte did not need a taxi that evening. Instead she spent the night curled up with Andy in his bed, arms and

  legs determinedly entwined. When she woke the next morning the memory of their lovemaking flooded into her

  mind, and she smiled. If she had been a cat she would have purred. Her body felt replete, loose-limbed and at

  ease with itself. She could have shouted for joy at being wanted by the man whose arm now pinned her to the

  bed. The intensity of their lovemaking had washed away the incipient feeling of being undesirable which had

  lingered after Richard’s defection to a younger model. Sex – and what sex! – had restored to Charlotte her sense

  of worth as a woman in her prime.

  ‘Morning, gorgeous. Did you sleep well?’ Andy’s voice was husky with sleep. He moved his arm and she

  turned to face him. She stroked the hair out of his eyes.