I found his dogged belief and faith in Celine rather touching. I’d only met her once and hadn’t been massively impressed, I’d thought her rather cold and distant and frankly I wasn’t at all surprised to hear about the affair; neither would it seem was anyone else. But I could tell that Philippe seemed genuinely hurt and upset and I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to put my arms around him, which was weird given that I didn’t really like him that much.
‘Perhaps we should have a chat with Claude,’ Stephanie said.
‘You don’t think he’s in on the wine scam, do you?’ Philippe stared at his sister in astonishment.
She shook her head. ‘No I don’t, but he may be able to shed some light, he may have heard something.’
‘Where is Claude?’ Beatrice asked.
‘He’s gone to Celine’s parents, her father was taken ill in the night.’ Philippe grabbed the pastis bottle and poured himself a hefty slug. ‘When he comes back I’ll have a quiet word with him.’ He offered the bottle around the room. ‘I can’t believe he knows anything, if he’d suspected anything surely he would have told us.’
‘He’ll be protecting Celine,’ Luc said.
‘We don’t know she’s done anything yet,’ Philippe said sharply. ‘Let’s not jump to conclusions until we know the facts.’ He swirled the pastis around his glass. ‘While we are all here I’d like you to see Sky’s paintings,’ he said in an abrupt change of subject. ‘They are wonderful, she has captured the charm of our chateau quite beautifully.’
I was over the moon with such high praise from Philippe, especially since I sensed it was not easily given. Once again I was aware of his intense scrutiny and I blushed, wishing for the millionth time that I didn’t have such fair skin.
There was a good deal of exclamation over the paintings. No one could decide which they preferred. It boiled down to a choice of two, the one Philippe had liked of the back of the chateau with the stone fountain and a more formal one of the front. Everyone had been very complimentary but I could sense that spirits were low. They were all concerned about Claude and Celine. No one liked to think of a traitor in their midst.
‘Could I have a word?’ I stopped Philippe and Beatrice.
‘As long as the word is outside or in my study.’ Philippe smiled. ‘I’d like a cigarette.’ He paused. ‘And maybe another small pastis.’
‘You don’t know how to pour a small pastis.’ Beatrice laughed.
‘I’ll grab another if I may.’ Nick held out his glass. ‘I could get used to this.’
‘You are getting used to it,’ Beatrice responded.
‘Sorry, do you want to talk in private?’ Nick hesitated as we headed outside. ‘Am I interrupting?’ We were both treading on eggshells and I suddenly felt intensely weary of it all.
‘No, of course not,’ I replied.
‘We really must give up this filthy habit,’ Beatrice said, lighting her cigarette.
‘We tried.’ Philippe smiled at her ruefully. ‘I can’t remember how many times we tried.’ He turned to me. ‘Have you ever smoked, Sky?’
I glanced over to Nick and we couldn’t help laughing. ‘Once, when I was about fourteen, my sister, Nick and I stole my father’s fags. They were very strong, some strange Italian make. We smoked them one after the other for about an hour. Iona and I were sick as dogs.’ I grimaced at the memory, still so clear even after all the years. ‘God, we were ill. We took days to recover and never smoked again. My father was so distraught at the thought that he was indirectly to blame that he gave up immediately.’ I grinned at Nick. ‘Sadly, Nick here took to it like a duck to water and hasn’t looked back since. He’s an addict.’
‘I wish to God that had happened to me,’ Philippe said.
‘It did, you are,’ Beatrice said with her husky laugh.
‘Not the addict part,’ he said, shaking his head in despair. ‘Sky, what did you want?’
‘I spoke to Gail today.’
‘How is she?’ Beatrice enquired.
‘Well, not that great actually,’ I replied. ‘She was lying on the sofa with a bad ankle.’
‘How did that happen?’ Nick asked.
‘Dirty tackle from Sonny during a football game.’ I smiled. ‘He’s devastated apparently. Keeps bringing her flowers and chocolate.’ I hesitated. ‘I just wondered, I mean, she just seems a bit low, she had a huge row with her sister…’
‘About bloody time,’ Nick interrupted.
‘So I thought, well, maybe…’ I floundered. It suddenly seemed terribly presumptuous of me to ask if Gail could come over, especially in light of recent events.
‘Is Tariq there?’ Beatrice asked.
‘No, but he’s going over soon.’ I looked across at Philippe. ‘I sort of thought it would be interesting to hear what he thinks about your barn.’ Philippe looked at me blankly. He was not getting the drift of this conversation at all and I wished I had never brought it up.
‘I think it would be a wonderful idea,’ Beatrice said, getting the drift immediately.
‘She knows you’re here,’ I turned to her gratefully. ‘She sounded very envious that we were all here. I mean, I’m sure she would be happy to contribute something and so would I, I mean it’s my idea, I don’t want you out of pocket or anything.’ God, I was making a pig’s ear of this. I started again. ‘I don’t mean to impose, I, um, well I haven’t said anything to her yet of course so if you think there is too much going on…’ I trailed off, worried that I may have been rather tactless.
‘Why the hell is everyone talking in riddles today?’ Philippe was lost. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Sky was thinking that it might be a nice idea to invite Gail and Sonny over, and Tariq of course.’ Beatrice shook her head at him. ‘You’re really not on the ball today, Philippe.’
‘Thank you for that vote of confidence, cheri.’
‘Sky is right, it really would be interesting to get his take on the barn,’ Beatrice continued. ‘He’s a very clever man and it’s about time we did something useful with it.’
‘Bea, “we” are not really in a position to do much with it.’ Philippe turned to me and Nick. ‘Sometimes she forgets she doesn’t live here.’
Beatrice was not remotely offended. ‘Getting ideas doesn’t cost money.’ She reached up and kissed him. ‘Shall I go and ask Stephanie and Rosa?’
‘Do I have a choice?’
‘It will be fun.’ Beatrice smiled at him. ‘Emmie will adore Sonny and I’m serious about Tariq looking at the barn. I think we are really missing a trick here.’
He shook his head in despair. ‘Go and ask Rosa and Stephanie, I have to go and fetch Emmie.’
‘I’ll go if you want,’ Nick offered.
‘Do you want me to drive you?’ Beatrice stopped in the doorway.
‘Christ, no.’ Nick looked horrified at the thought. ‘I escaped with my life earlier, I certainly don’t want to risk it again.’
‘There is nothing wrong with my driving!’ Beatrice was indignant.
‘There is so much wrong with your driving,’ Nick replied, ‘I don’t know where to start, it is wrong on every level.’
Philippe was chuckling. ‘Take my car, Nick.’ He threw him the keys.
‘I’ll come with you,’ I said suddenly, surprising myself as much as Nick.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
‘Do you really think it’s Celine?’ I asked Nick.
‘Well, everything points that way,’ Nick replied, slowing down at a crossroads. ‘Did Philippe say right or left here?’
‘Straight over.’ I shook my head in despair. Nick was hopeless with directions. It had always been me who had guided them, come to think of it Miles was the same. God knows how the two of them would ever get anywhere. I smiled at the thought and then suddenly gasped, realising what I’d just done. I’d actually thought of them both as couple, but not only that, I’d thought of them without rancour, without anger. I’d thought of them as if they were supposed to be together.
; ‘I mean, who else could it be? Well perhaps Claude, but Philippe seemed fairly certain that it wasn’t.’ Nick was carrying on with the conversation. I tried to concentrate. I’d think about what had just happened later on. I couldn’t cope with the implications right now.
‘Will she be making a lot of profit?’ I asked.
‘Depends on how much she sold the wine for and how much mark-up there is?’ He thought for a minute. ‘Maybe the Hotel de Paris isn’t the only place this is happening, maybe that’s just the tip of the iceberg – in fact I’d lay money on it.’
‘I just don’t understand why.’ I shook my head. ‘Why does she want to rob her own family?’
‘God only knows,’ Nick replied. ‘I didn’t really take to her, she doesn’t seem to fit in, seems like a cold fish.’
‘Poor Philippe.’ I sighed. ‘He works so hard, he loves his wine and he loves his family.’
‘Why the change of heart?’ Nick grinned at me. ‘I didn’t think he was your favourite person.’
‘He seems different out here.’ I paused. ‘More approachable somehow.’
We drew up at the school gates but before turning in Nick suddenly pulled into the side. ‘You know I love you very much, don’t you, Skylark?’ He was staring straight ahead as if afraid to look at my face.
I paused before speaking. I wasn’t sure I was ready to have a heart-to-heart. ‘I love you too, Nicky,’ I said slowly. ‘But you’ve broken my trust and I’m not sure how to get over that.’
‘If I’d had an inkling that I was going to hurt you, that I might fall in love with Miles, then I would have moved to the other side of the world and never set eyes on you again.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘But even then I would have broken your heart because you would never have known the reason why I’d left you.’
I was silent.
‘You and Miles would have split up eventually, Sky.’
‘That just makes you feel better,’ I snapped.
‘No, it’s true.’
‘Why? Why do you say that?’
‘Eventually you would have found the person you really loved. Miles was never the love of your life.’
‘Why does everyone seem to think that?’ I slapped the dashboard in frustration.
‘Everyone?’ Nick looked puzzled but I ignored his question.
‘Do you honestly believe that, Nicky?’ I was struggling.
‘I really do, and not just because it makes me feel better.’
‘In the hospital you started to say I needed someone more passionate, “someone like…”, but you never finished the sentence. Who were you talking about?’
‘No idea,’ he lied and then changed the subject quickly. ‘I spoke to Miles today.’
I didn’t respond.
‘He’s not coping very well.’
‘Really,’ I said coldly. If he expected sympathy he was going to be disappointed. Frankly if he had been coping than I would have been furious.
‘Sky, he hates that we’ve hurt you so much. I hate that we’ve hurt you so much, I don’t know how we can expect you to forgive us when we can’t forgive each other.
I’d had enough talking for now. ‘Let’s just take things day by day, Nick.’
Emmie was over the moon to see us both. I let her sit in the front beside Nick, the two of them were chatting non-stop and I was more than content to sit in the back and mull over my thoughts.
I mentally prodded the most recent revelation and found once again that although I still felt betrayed and hurt the agonising pain was no longer there. In fact, I could go one step further and acknowledge that Miles and Nick were well suited. Forcing myself to probe further I thought about their relationship. They had always got on well. They complemented each other, it was an easy relationship.
I had loved the laissez-faire attitude that Miles had but, if I were honest, his laid-back nature had occasionally driven me insane. Sometimes I’d longed for him to take the initiative, to be more decisive, whereas Nick was more than happy to take the lead himself and Miles more than happy to let him. It had always been easier when we were doing things as a threesome.
With a start I realised what I had just admitted, and if I were honest I realised how true it was. Sudden flashes of memory came back to me. I remembered a conversation during a holiday in Greece and I could still hear the sadness in Miles’ voice. ‘You seem so angry and impatient with me, Sky, and I have no idea why, maybe we should take separate holidays in future.’
At the time that comment had only made me more angry. I was furious with him for not understanding but looking back, I could see it from Miles’ point of view: he actually hadn’t done anything wrong, he was just being himself, but clearly that hadn’t been good enough for me.
Had I driven him to Nick? Was it my fault? They would make a good team, I could see that. Nick would always be the dominant partner but he needed Miles’s gentle sensitivity and understanding. He needed someone to bring him down to earth sometimes and Miles would fulfil that. I had never been able to do that for Nick, we were too alike.
I lay back on the seat and closed my eyes. Was everyone right? Had Miles and I been incompatible? Had I just wasted five years of my life? Tears sprung into my eyes and I gazed out of the window, willing them to stop. I forced myself to focus on the countryside. I couldn’t cry in front of Emmie, it wouldn’t be fair.
It was beautiful countryside, vineyards stretching as far as the eye could see, gentle rolling hills with the silhouettes of chateau perched on the top. Mellow greens and soft purples contrasted with the bright blue of the sky and the occasional burst of yellow sunflowers. It was soothing and enervating at the same time and I gradually felt myself breathing easier.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew Nick was parking the car in front of a small café and Emmie was talking to me.
‘What is your favourite, Sky?’
‘Sorry, darling, favourite what?’
‘Favourite flavour.’ She wriggled around to look at me.
‘Sky doesn’t like ice cream,’ Nick said and then laughed at the look of astonishment on Emmie’s face. ‘I know, weird isn’t it?’ He winked at her.
‘It’s not weird, I just prefer chocolate.’ Emmie looked marginally relieved to hear that I wasn’t a total freak but still didn’t look totally convinced.
‘I’m sorry to hear that your grandpa is ill.’ I took her hand as we left the car.
‘Is he?’ She looked surprised. Damn, I had put my foot in it, obviously no one had told her. ‘I don’t think it is anything to worry about, sweetheart.’ I was quick to reassure her.
She was silent for a moment before looking up at me. ‘Grandpa is not a man what likes me very much.’ She said it without rancour or bitterness. Her eyes were wide and guileless behind her glasses, I wanted to scoop her into my arms and never let go.
CHAPTER FORTY
Beatrice walked into the kitchen as Henri was walking out. He stopped and touched her shoulder.
‘You were right, cheri,’ he said, his blue eyes were clouded with sadness. ‘You and Rosa were right.’
‘What has got into him?’ Beatrice stared after him.
‘He’s upset about Celine.’ Rosa handed her a mug of coffee. ‘He feels he has let Philippe down.’
‘He wasn’t to know.’
‘He says that in hindsight certain things were clear.’
‘Well, everything is clear in hindsight.’ Beatrice sipped her coffee.
‘We said that Celine was not to be trusted, he thinks he should have listened more closely.’
‘Everyone should have listened more closely,’ Beatrice remarked. ‘Rosa, do you know what Philippe asked me today?’ She looked at her old friend. ‘He asked me why Celine had married Claude.’
‘And did you tell him?’
‘He’d never believe me.’
‘No, you’re probably right.’
‘Rosa, we have a few more people arriving. Is that alright with you?’
Rosa nodded, the more the merrier in her opinion.
‘Where is Stephanie?’ Beatrice asked. ‘I need to clear it with her but I think it is a good idea.’
‘If you think it’s a good idea then so will she.’ Rosa smiled at Beatrice. She adored her. It had been obvious that she and Philippe would never last but it had been equally obvious that she would always remain a part of their lives.
Henri was angry with himself. He had promised Philippe’s father that he would look after his son. He felt he had let him down. He should have kept a careful eye on things. He should have checked what was going out and where. He should never have trusted Celine. How could he have let this happen?
He sat down on his favourite stone bench and looked out at the river. There was another reason for feeling so disconsolate. Another reason that was sitting on his chest and weighing him down.
He knew that old Ginger was not going to last much longer. He could see it in his eyes, the old cat had looked at him tenderly this morning as if begging to be allowed to die and Henri knew that it was time to let go. Tears rained down his cheeks and he put his head in his hands.
Moments later a caress as soft as a breeze ruffled his hair. An arm slipped through his and a soft kiss brushed his cheek.
‘Don’t grieve, mon coeur.’ Her voice was like the low murmur of the river. ‘He has been loved and he has been cherished, he’s been a faithful friend and we’ll never forget him, but he’s tired now.’
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