‘Why?’ Philippe said, standing up immediately. ‘What on earth for? Why do you want Sky to come over?’
‘I’ll tell you if you give me a chance.’ She was amused at his reaction. ‘She is hugely talented, Philippe.’
‘So?’
‘Cheri, don’t bite my head off, just listen to me.’
He sank back into the chair.
‘She has done the most wonderful paintings for me. Small pictures of the riad. She has captured everyday life here. She has drawn Bushara cooking in the kitchen, Ibrahim sweeping the hallway, the tortoise eating a lettuce leaf, bougainvillea flowers floating at the edge of the pool, she has caught the very essence of the riad. I’m going to have them made into cards and I think she should do the same for you.’ She paused to inhale the cigarette. ‘The pictures are bewitching.’
‘She certainly seems to have cast a spell on you.’ Philippe was amused.
‘They are very unique. I’ll e-mail them to you so that you can see.’ She changed the subject. ‘Go and have breakfast, is it a Rosa special?’
‘I’m not sure, but we do have a Rosa Basque chicken for lunch.’ Philippe licked his lips in anticipation.
‘Mon Dieu, I’m getting on a plane now.’ She laughed. ‘A bientôt, cheri, I love you.’
‘I love you too, Bea, I love you very much indeed.’
At the other end of the line Beatrice raised her eyebrows, as did Stephanie, passing by with her arms full of freshly baked baguettes. Was something going on between her ex-sister-in-law and her brother that she was not aware of?
She looked at Philippe curiously but he was giving nothing away.
‘So what do you think?’ he asked them all a short while later as they were finishing breakfast. ‘How do you think that sounds?’ He had been outlining the plans for the wine tasting weekend to them.
‘Sounds as if you had one hell of a week.’ Luc grinned.
‘It certainly wasn’t dull.’ Philippe reached for the coffee.
‘It’s interesting,’ Stephanie said hesitantly.
‘Maman it’s more than interesting.’ Luc leapt up. ‘It’s exactly what we need, it’s an amazing opportunity.’ He paced around the table. ‘To have the opportunity to showcase our wines to some of London’s top restaurants is beyond our wildest dreams.’
Philippe smiled to himself as Luc launched into a speech about the magic of the Californian marketing machine. He remembered Bea and himself doing exactly the same to his father. They had been spilling over with ideas and suggestions which had all been met with a polite smile and a nod of the head. His father’s lack of enthusiasm had dampened theirs and Philippe remembered his desperate disappointment when he realised that his father was frightened of change. He had seemed unusually tired and blinkered. In hindsight Philippe guessed it must have been the start of the cancer which had eventually carried him off, but at the time it had been immensely frustrating.
Suddenly determined that he must never be like that, he interrupted as Luc was speaking about the importance of image.
‘You are right, Luc, you are absolutely right. We need to do something to make us stand out.’
His nephew looked delighted.
Philippe continued, ‘We have a wonderful product which is not getting the attention it deserves.’ He paused before adding, ‘Maybe it is time for new labels, in fact Bea, always one step ahead, has someone in mind to help us. Her name is Sky, she was staying in the riad and she is a very talented artist.’
‘She must be if Beatrice recommends her,’ Stephanie said. ‘Beatrice has very exacting standards.’
‘Bea is going to e-mail me some of the pictures Sky has done of the riad, and she also has a website.’
His sister however was looking far from convinced. ‘We have had the label from the start. It is part of our heritage, people recognise it.’
‘But it is like a hundred other labels, Maman,’ Luc replied. ‘A picture of a chateau, it is hardly original or eye-catching.’
‘It is classy, classic and symbolises our wine,’ his mother retorted. ‘We don’t need some shiny bright label. It cheapens the wine. I see them in the supermarket and shudder.’
Philippe butted in before Luc could respond. ‘All we are doing is throwing ideas around right now.’ He smiled gently.’ Let’s all try and keep an open mind.’
‘But we are definitely going with the chefs’ invitations?’ Luc demanded.
‘We are definitely going with it,’ Philippe agreed. ‘We can’t afford to miss a chance like that.’
He looked around the room. ‘We have to be more proactive, otherwise we will stagnate and then…’
He didn’t finish the sentence but his Gallic shrug said it all.
There was silence. Philippe looked at their faces. Luc’s full of enthusiasm and energy, Stephanie’s anxious yet thoughtful whereas Henri was his usual implacable self.
He stood up and reached for his stick. ‘It’s exciting, we just need to think positive and keep pushing forward.’ He smiled reassuringly. ‘Luc, Henri, let’s take a walk through the vines.’ He walked towards the door and yelled, ‘Emmie, get your boots on we’re going for a wander.’
At the door he suddenly turned around. ‘Oh, one more thing, we have someone coming to help for a few months.’ He was talking quickly. ‘Beatrice rang the agency she uses for her hotel in Paris. He’ll be arriving some time next week. I can’t really pull my weight at the moment so it seemed only fair.’ He had expected some murmurs of dissent but no one disagreed, in fact no one seemed remotely surprised by his statement.
He must have been worse than he thought. Bemused, he started to turn around and out of the corner of his eye caught his sister and Rosa exchange a smile. He realised he had been duped.
‘You knew about this, didn’t you?’ He glared at them. ‘You asked Bea to persuade me to hire someone?’ Stephanie simply smiled and Rosa avoided looking him in the eye. He wheeled around to face Henri, who said nothing but his blue eyes were twinkling.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I was pacing around the flat waiting for Miles to come and collect his things. I could have taken the coward’s way and gone out for the afternoon but he’d said he wanted to talk to me and I’d realised that I couldn’t hide away for ever.
My relationship with Nick was still tenuous and fragile. After the initial euphoria of discovering him alive we were back to skating on thin ice. I knew we had a strong bond and I knew the relationship had to change, but I hadn’t a clue how to move it forward. I still felt as if I were treading water. Only a few weeks ago I had had a husband and a best friend and life was good. Now all that had been taken away from me, my once ordered life lay in tangles and I could see only dense fog ahead.
The doorbell rang, I jumped nervously and glanced in the mirror. I’d taken care with my appearance, I’d chosen a new top from Marrakech that complimented my light tan, I’d put make-up on and sprayed some new perfume. I wasn’t really sure why I’d bothered. I doubted he was going to launch himself back into my arms.
Taking a deep breath I went to open it and stared at him.
Ye gods, what in the world was he wearing? He looked bloody awful. He had on a hideous green baggy jumper that I’d never seen before, jeans and an old pair of trainers. He looked gaunt and pale. Dark shadows circled his eyes and he clearly hadn’t been near a razor in days. And this was the man who used to spend more time getting ready than me. What was he playing at? I’d never seen him look so rough.
‘You look lovely,’ he said, looking me up and down.
‘You look like shite.’
I opened the door to let him in, wondering if his strange appearance was a deliberate attempt to elicit my sympathy and felt a rush of annoyance. I was the victim here, he had no right whatsoever to try and make me feel sorry for him. It was a ploy that was unworthy of him.
‘Would you like some tea?’ I offered. Christ, how bloody British, our lives were falling apart and I offered tea.
&n
bsp; ‘Not really.’ He opened his bag. ‘I brought some wine.’
He’d brought a bottle of my favourite Rioja. I couldn’t think why, this was hardly a celebration.
He opened it swiftly and silently poured and handed me a glass. There was a long pause.
‘I’m pleased that you and Nick are talking.’
‘Barely.’
‘It’s a start, Sky. It will take time.’ He paused again. ‘It won’t be easy for you but you are soul mates and no one can tear you apart.’
‘You certainly gave it a go.’ I took a large gulp.
‘Sky, you know it’s not all about Nick.’ He picked at a thread in his ghastly jumper. I wished the whole damn thing would unravel, much like our relationship. He continued hesitantly. ‘He may have been the catalyst but deep down I think we both knew we weren’t really meant for each other.’
I was stunned. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. What the hell was going on? Did he really think that was true?
‘I loved you,’ I said. ‘I wanted to get married and unlike you I wanted to stay married. I actually believed what I said on our wedding day.’
‘You may have believed what you said, Sky, but did you ever really feel it?’
‘Don’t you dare try and tell me how I felt,’ I screeched. ‘Don’t try and make out I didn’t love you just to make it easier on yourself. Please don’t give me any more crap about the final piece of the jigsaw or finding the one who made you whole. It only makes it worse.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Miles threw back his wine. ‘You’re right. I’m so sorry, Sky, I’m just trying to be honest, I’m just trying to let you know how I feel but I’m making a very poor job of it.’
‘You’re the one who walked out on me, Miles.’ I was spitting with rage. ‘Don’t lay the blame on me, have the courage to take responsibility.’
‘Maybe I should just go and grab a few things, I’ll come back another time for the rest.’
I watched him walk away. I was very angry but also very confused. What was this obsession everyone seemed to have about me not loving Miles? Including Miles, it would seem.
Maybe I should have paid more attention to Nonna but I’d been too cross and upset at the time. And talking of Nonna, I was aware that I still hadn’t told her or my father the news. They still thought that Miles and I had been having the time of our lives in Marrakech.
I’d have to ring them soon, they’d be wondering why I hadn’t called them, but I was dreading it. What the hell could I say? Bad enough telling them that Miles had swapped his sexual preferences, but how would they feel when they heard that his new love was none other than their beloved Nick.
‘Sky?’ Miles stood in the doorway with a full bag slung over his shoulder. He looked awkward but I wasn’t prepared to help him. He cleared his throat. ‘I’m not sure what you want to do, where you want to stay? Have you made any plans?’
Once again I stared at him in disbelief. ‘Of course I’ve not made any plans,’ I said slowly. ‘Are you trying to kick me out? I’m aware that you pay most of the mortgage but I would be grateful if you could give me a little more time to make arrangements.’
‘I was just going to say that if you wanted to stay here then I would be happy to continue to pay my share.’
I looked around the flat that I had so lovingly decorated, taking in the gentle greys and greens which I’d believed were cool and calming. After the vibrancy of Marrakech, they now looked dull and uninspiring.
Similarly, the white walls and stainless steel equipment in the kitchen appeared cold and clinical. I thought back to Bushara’s kitchen. Her glowing terracotta tagines, the deep blue and gold crockery, the copper pans, bright baskets of fruit and overflowing pots of sharp green herbs.
‘I don’t want to stay here.’ I knew that with sudden clarity. ‘I’ve no idea where I want to go but I don’t want to stay here.’
‘OK.’ He paused. ‘I’ll come back another time.’
‘Wear something decent.’
He had the grace to look abashed. ‘I wanted you to know I was suffering.’
‘It didn’t work.’
‘I can see that.’
When he left I poured myself a large glass of wine and waited for the despair to hit and the tears to flow, but instead I felt completely numb. Everything felt surreal, as if it were happening to someone else, as if I were watching myself from the wings.
The telephone shattered the silence. I was disorientated, the number wasn’t one I recognised, probably a sales call, nonetheless I picked it up.
‘Yes.’ I was brusque.
‘’Allo? Sky?’
I immediately recognised the rich tones of Philippe and was completely thrown. How had he got this number?
‘Sky?’ He spoke into the pause. ‘It is Philippe here. Philippe Fontaine.’
I smiled to myself. As if it needed qualifying? How many other French Philippes did he think I knew?
‘Is this a bad time?’
I realised that I still hadn’t spoken. Pulling myself together I said, ‘No, not at all, it’s just a surprise, that’s all.’ I tried to put a smile into my voice. ‘Lovely to hear from you.’
I could tell he wasn’t convinced. He remained silent. Our conversations never seemed to be straightforward.
‘Philippe?’
‘Yes I’m still here.’ He paused again and I waited. ‘Listen, I have a proposition for you, well actually Bea suggested it.’ Once again he hesitated and I was intrigued.
‘I’m listening, Philippe, tell me more.’
‘Bea showed me your paintings of the riad, they are absolutely stunning. I wondered if you’d like to come here and do some of the chateau?’
I gasped, this was the last thing I’d expected.
‘Bea thought that the chefs and wine buffs who are coming out might be interested in buying them.’
I was still in shock.
‘I mean, only if it appeals to you, maybe you have something lined up. Bea seemed to think you didn’t have anything for a while but maybe she was wrong?’
I smiled to myself. This was typical of Beatrice, trying to control everyone even after they had left the riad. But I didn’t mind, quite the contrary, I was overwhelmed that Beatrice had thought so much of my paintings that she was recommending me to Philippe. It was all too much to take in. I was aware that Philippe was still speaking.
‘Obviously we would pay for your airfare and you would be welcome to stay in the chateau, and we, um, well, we would come to some sort of, um, financial arrangement…’ He trailed off lamely. I was about to respond but before I could reply he quickly said, ‘Anyway, there is no need to give me an answer now.’ He sounded as if he were wishing he’d never asked me and I leapt in quickly.
‘Philippe, I think it sounds wonderful.’
‘Really?’ He sounded surprised.
‘I’m so sorry, I’m a bit all over the place right now.’ I grinned. ‘I know you think that’s how I always am.’
‘Not at all.’ He began half-heartedly to protest.
‘And probably with good reason,’ I cut him off again. ‘It’s just that Miles, my husband, my ex-husband, well not yet but soon to be, has been to see me and I’m feeling a little fragile.’ I was aware that my voice was breaking and desperately tried to control myself. God, he must have thought I was a total fruitcake.
‘Sky, I’m so sorry. This must be such a difficult time for you. ‘I was amazed to hear such warmth in his voice. ‘I cannot imagine what you are going through. Listen, I’m sorry to disturb you, I’ll ring another time.’
‘Philippe, I think coming to France is probably exactly what I need right now,’ I said, suddenly realising that this was true. ‘But I need to get a few things straightened out first. Is that OK?’
‘Sky, of course that is OK. Just ring when you know when.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘You are strong, Sky, you can cope. Au revoir.’
I stood staring at the receiver. I was astonished. What had pro
mpted him to say that? I walked to the window. It was dull outside, a dismal, murky day. I watched the people walking down the street, hunched over themselves, scurrying along like lab rats. I’d never actually seen any lab rats but I imagined this was what they must look like. Grey, miserable and expressionless.
After Morocco everything looked dreary, as if I was seeing the world in black and white. I suddenly couldn’t bear it another moment.
I made a decision. I’d drive to Scotland tonight, I’d talk to my dad and Nonna. It was unfair to keep them in the dark any longer. I had a sudden longing to be in the big kitchen with the dogs at my feet and the donkeys braying outside.
Then I would come home and take up Philippe’s offer and go to France. The thought sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. I glanced at my watch, I wanted to ring Gail. It was weird how close I felt to her after such a short time together.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
‘Gail, it’s Sky.’
‘Sky! How lovely to hear from you.’
‘How are you? How were your last few days?’
‘Hectic, magical and rather scary.’
I laughed. ‘How did Sonny take the news?’
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