Try as she may to avoid it, the lack of contact from Gerard was driving her slowly crazy, so much so that she finally conjured up enough courage to give him a call.
Late that afternoon, after a couple of shots of Dutch courage supplied by Jack, Jack Daniels, that is, she finally picked up the phone to make the call.
“House of Cinclare?” the same female voice answered.
“Could I speak with Mr. Cinclare, please?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but he’s out of the country at the moment.”
“Oh. I see. Do you expect him back soon?” she couldn’t believe she was being so inquisitive.
“Are you a friend of his?” the question was polite but searching.
“Yes, I think you could say that. This is Francine Dubois.”
Suddenly, the voice changed at the other end of the line. “Oh, Miss Dubois! Nice to talk to you. Congratulations on the showing in Monte Carlo!”
Francine was impressed that the woman even knew of the show.
“Thank you.”
“Yes, Mr. Cinclare is in England at the moment, he’s spending some time with his son.”
Francine couldn’t get over her insistent boldness. “I don’t suppose you’d know where he’s staying?”
There was a pause at the other end. “He’s usually a very private person, but if you wanted to give him a call, he’s staying at the Marlborough Hotel in Little Stanton in the Cotswolds.
Francine was busy scribbling down the details. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“In about 10 days or so, I expect.”
“Thank you, you’ve been most helpful.”
“My pleasure, Miss Dubois. Would you like me to let Mr. Cinclare know you called?”
Francine couldn’t answer quickly enough. ”No, that’s okay, I’ll try and give him a call in the next couple of days, goodbye”
“Bye.”
She put the phone down, a pensive look on her face. ‘So that’s why I haven’t heard from him!’ she murmured, thoughts already forming in her mind as she pondered in detail her own schedule that would also be taking her to England in four days’ time.
She sat back, trying to put herself in Gerard’s shoes. To have lost a wife he obviously loved, judging by the look in his eyes as he told her, and now, to lose his Mother, must really have hit him hard. It was therefore understandable that he would kick over the traces for a while to get close to the one person still dear to him, his ten-year-old son.
CHAPTER 37
That night after tucking Alison safely into bed, Francine spent a little time on the Internet doing some research on the whereabouts of the place called Little Stanton in the Cotswolds.
After twenty minutes or so, she had the location, the distance from London Airport and even the phone number of the hotel where Gerard was staying. She placed the print out in her briefcase and made a mental note that if time permitted on her trip to London, she may just drive down and check out the place and once and for all decide if there was even the slightest spark left in their relationship and if not she could at least offer him her condolences.
And so, after a further few hectic days of preparing for the show at Huntingtons, at the same time trying to keep abreast of incoming orders, Francine and Vince were ready for the trip to London the following day. With the influx of orders and now that goods were being shipped, Francine had also recruited an Office Manager, a competent woman in her forties named Olive.
It had taken at least a day that Francine could ill afford to make sure that Olive was on track, but in the event, she considered it time well spent as she finished packing for London with an easier mind.
It was around 9.30 in the evening as Francine went over her checklist for the London trip one final time, when the phone rang. It was Steve.
“Francie,” he began. “Just touching base as we agreed.”
Once again her defense mechanism kicked in. “Oh, hi, Steve.”
He still sounded hesitant but very lucid. “Look, Francie, we’re in Dallas at the moment and I wondered if you could spare a few minutes for a chat?”
‘We’re in Dallas - so perhaps Ruby was still with him!’ Francine’s first reaction was to put him off again, but she replied. “When you say we?”
“Yeah, Ruby and I,” he continued. “How about it?”
“Well, I’ve just finished packing for a trip to England in the morning, where are you calling from?”
“We’re having dinner at Fridays on Greenville, do you know it?”
She thought quickly. “Yes, I know it. Look, I’ll tell you what, I can spare a few minutes, how about if I meet you there in an hour?”
“Yeah, great! We’ll have a coffee and wait for you in the bar.”
“Okay, see you later.”
“Bye, Francie, and thanks.”
“Bye.” she put the phone down, still in shock that she had actually agreed to meet with Steve. However, after a quick shower and a change of clothes, she was on her way some fifty minutes later, fear and trepidation in her heart.
She still hadn’t told Alison of her deal with Steve and in a way she guessed that this was because subconsciously, she didn’t want him back in their lives.
Turning into the busy parking lot of the restaurant she was still tempted to drive on by and forget the disruption in their lives that she sensed the next hour would bring.
Inside the restaurant, the bar was quiet and she spotted Steve, seated with Ruby in a quiet corner. The first thing that struck her was that they hadn’t seen her approach and they were actually holding hands affectionately! What was going on here? Was it another of Steve’s scams or, heaven forbid, did he and the therapist actually have something going on between them?
They quickly let go of each other’s hands when Steve spotted Francine approach. He stood up and smiled sheepishly. “Hi, Francie,” he began. “Thanks for coming, this is Ruby Davidson, you spoke with her on the phone.”
“Hi, Steve, Ruby.” Francine shook hands with Ruby, already eyeing her up closely.
“Miss Dubois,” Ruby responded shaking hands. “Steve’s told me so much about you!”
Francine smiled a thin smile. “Nothing good, I’m sure.”
Ruby smiled. “On the contrary, he was very complimentary of the excellent job you’re doing raising your daughter.”
Francine was beginning to warm a little to this woman. She was about five foot four, a little on the stocky side, but with warm brown eyes that held a constant look of compassion. If indeed they had been holding hands affectionately as opposed to Ruby merely trying to give Steve the confidence to face her, then he could do a lot worse than the woman in front of her.
Francine tried to keep the conversation on a friendly level. “Well, you do what you have to do, I guess.” she then looked more closely at Steve for the first time. Gone was that empty, haunted look in his eyes and back was that sparkle of old that she recognized. He also looked a little fatter in the face.
She decided to keep things upbeat, at least for the moment, “So, tell me, what’s been happening since New York?”
Ruby squeezed Steve’s hand encouragingly as he began. “Well, after we spoke, I came back to Big ‘D’, checked the yellow pages, found a hospital, walked through the door, told them my problems and bingo, there was Ruby!”
Ruby squeezed his hand again to get him to continue. “From thereon in, we must have talked half the night. Next day I met with Ruby and Dr. Kingsley and started the therapy.”
Francine looked at Ruby. “And how’s he doing, Ruby?”
Ruby was professionally guarded in her response. “To be honest, he was an absolute bear until we started to steer him through withdrawal, but once that started to kick in and we got his diet back on track, he’s been almost a model patient!”
“Almost?” Francine couldn’t resist the question.
Ruby smiled. “Yes, there were moments in that early withdrawal stage when his language was less than polite, to say the least!�
��
‘Well, at least he hasn’t fallen off the wagon yet!’ Francine told herself. “And so, what’s your assessment of your patient now, Ruby?”
Steve sat there totally unconcerned, even though they were talking about him as if he wasn’t even there.
Again, Ruby chose her words carefully. “Well, I’ll say this, whenever you feel comfortable about letting Steve see his daughter for however brief a time, I think he’s up to handling it in a controlled manner!”
Francine thought for a moment. “I see, well, at the moment I’m off to England for a week or so. Why don’t you call me when I get back, Steve and we’ll all make plans to meet again. If things are still progressing at that stage, then we can schedule a meeting with Alison,” she paused for effect and turned to Ruby. “But at the moment, as you can imagine, not knowing if Steve would make it, I still haven’t spoken with my daughter to prepare her for the fact that Steve may re-enter her life, on however restricted a basis.”
Steve and Ruby exchanged glances and nodded at each other indicating that they could live with her terms. Steve was the first to speak.
“That’s fine with me, Francie. So, we’ll call you after you get back from England then?”
“Okay, I’ll wait to hear from you,” she stood up to leave. “It was nice meeting you, Ruby, take good care of him, he’s worth saving,” and she added with a smile. “Even if not for me.”
Ruby then confirmed unequivocally that the hand-holding Francine had seen earlier was for real as she replied. “Don’t worry, I will,” and grabbing Steve’s hand and squeezing it she continued. “Matter of fact, I might just save this guy for me!”
Francine struggled not to let her mouth sag open as she got to her feet. “Well, good luck to both of you on all counts. Give me a call when I get back, Steve, bye.”
They all shook hands before Francine left.
“Thanks, Francie.” Steve called after her, real sincerity in his voice. She waved as she left and headed for her car.
On the drive back to her house, Francine’s mind was in a whirl. So, not only was Steve’s detoxification for real, he had found himself a new girlfriend who also happened to be his counselor!
Although a part of her heart was pleased for him, the other part was now faced with the problem of how to break the news to Alison. So close to the trip to England, she decided to leave it until after the next meeting with the two lovebirds, just to make sure that Steve was still clean.
That night, before falling asleep, she somehow felt strangely alone for the first time since the divorce. Even Steve now had someone to hold hands with, yet the one person that she would love to be holding hands with right now, was on the other side of the Atlantic, thousands of miles away.
CHAPTER 38
By the time the huge jet landed at London’s Gatwick Airport, Francine pondered at the pace at which her life was now running compared to a few short weeks earlier.
Transatlantic flights were now becoming commonplace for her and yet she was still suffering from having to leave the brave Alison yet again in the capable hands of Mrs.‘T’.
The inevitable promise of a gift on her return had eased the pangs of departure, but even now, as Francine looked out at the misty, light drizzle as the plane taxied in, the sad face of her daughter was still on her mind.
After a much easier transition through Customs than in Monte Carlo, they were all met by a Huntingtons representative who whisked Francine, Vince and the models and their precious baggage into two limousines which quickly dropped them off at their hotel, the opulent Royal Lancaster Hotel at Lancaster Gate.
As inevitably happens on flights into Europe from the USA, insomniacs like Francine completely lose a night’s sleep due to the interminable interruptions during the flight for dinner, a movie, breakfast, etc. And so, true to form, Francine was no exception as she literally fell into bed and was sound asleep within minutes.
She was awoken by a call from Vince late in the afternoon to tell her that a dinner party at 7-30 that evening had been arranged with the senior staff of Huntingtons. And so, after a quick shower, she put on a Dubois original and joined Vince and the models in the lobby awaiting yet another pair of limos to take them to a most elegant restaurant just off Hyde Park.
Francine was still somewhat in shock at the impact that her showing in Monte Carlo must have had on the extremely polite Mary Kendall, the senior buyer for Huntingtons. The latter treated her like royalty throughout the entire evening.
Further down the table, Vince, ever protective, ever vigilant, was smiling inwardly at the praise being lavished on a boss that he adored.
The program had been set out so that after a day of rehearsals in the middle of the week, Francine and her staff would have a couple of days in which to relax and see London before the big event at the weekend. Even on the TV in her room, Francine could see the promotions for the fashion show before she turned in for the night, after placing a call to Dallas to make sure that everything was still in order. The indomitable Mrs.’T’ came on the line reassuringly.
“Yes, of course she’s fine, Francine,” the older lady answered in reply to Francine’s opening question. “She’s having a couple of friends over for a pajama party, so that’s taking precedence at the moment.”
Francine heaved a sigh of relief. “Well that’s okay. Thanks, I’ll call again in the morning, bye.”
“Bye, my dear.”
Francine put the phone down and settled in for the night, but not before she pulled her Internet data from her briefcase. Before closing her eyes, she had already figured out how long it would take to get to Little Stanton and she had booked a rental car for the day following the rehearsal. She was hoping fervently that she would be able to find her way there. In fact, after the hair-raising limo ride from the airport, she consoled herself that she would be lucky to even find her way out of London!
The next day went extremely well and with their usual efficiency, the Huntington’s staff had Francine’s entire party on their way to the salon in the ever-present limos by 9.00 am the next morning.
On arrival at the store, before it opened, Mary Kendall and her staff were there to greet them and both the fashions and models were shepherded upstairs to the cordoned-off show area to get ready for the rehearsal.
“How are you this morning, Miss Dubois?” Mary asked.
“I’m fine, Mary, and its Francine, please?”
Mary smiled. “Right you are, Francine it is. Come, let me show you to the salon we've set up and I'll introduce you to my people who’ll handle the music and the commentary.”
The salon itself was truly elegant with gold and blue velvet in abundance along the edge of the catwalk. The lighting was superb and after Mary introduced Francine to Tom, a capable young technical type, he gave Francine a rundown of the commentary for her input and played some of the music over the excellent sound system.
She was most impressed and with Vince acting as motivator-in-chief behind the scenes, the rehearsal went very well indeed. In fact, Francine was now convinced that the performance would even outshine the one in Monte Carlo, which had been quite something in itself.
They wrapped up the rehearsal in the mid to late afternoon and after being dropped back at the hotel, Francine placed a call to the workshop in Dallas.
A very definitely harassed Thelma answered the phone, sounding battle weary to say the least. “Classique Fashions?”
“Hi, Thelma, this is Francine.”
“Oh, hi, Boss, how’s jolly old England?”
“Going great. How’s business?”
And so, for the next fifteen minutes, Francine put right all the wrongs, made numerous decisions concerning pending orders and supplies, leaving Thelma at least a little happier with her new-found hectic lifestyle. A quick word with Olive confirmed that billings were going out on time and, most important of all, cash was starting to roll in!
Once again, the limos arrived at 7.30 sharp to take their party to yet another
elegant dinner, this time at the home of Tim Johnson, the CEO of Huntingtons. Tim and his lovely wife Vanessa welcomed them to their stately mansion. The mere term ‘house’ could not really have described the opulent setting as the limos came to a halt in the circular driveway.
A number of important guests had also been invited to meet the ‘Fashion Queen from Dallas’, a name that some pompous woman made the mistake of using when addressing Francine at the dinner table.
Vince, ever the life and soul of the party, this particular evening wearing his taupe ensemble, chrome dome shining, humorously put the woman in her place by telling her that there was really only one ‘Queen’ in ‘Classique’ and that she was looking at him!
Francine almost choked on her soup trying not to laugh out loud.
It was a most enjoyable evening that Francine, Vince and the models all used to unwind after the long flight to finally dissipate their jet lag.
Tim and Vanessa were perfect hosts and said their goodbyes on the driveway as the limos spirited the visitors back to their hotel for their first good night’s sleep in two days.
Before turning in, Francine called to say hello to Alison and sat patiently listening while the child explained all the ‘cool’ things that had happened at her party the night before. Francine smiled at the two extremes in her life, the high life in New York, Monte Carlo and now London and the sweet, sweet home life back in Dallas, vowing never to let the former eclipse the latter.
As she drifted off to sleep, she was still rehearsing in her mind how she would break the news to Alison that her father could be coming back into their lives.
She found herself subconsciously rooting for Ruby Davidson, hoping that the kindly lady did indeed get together with Steve and what better partner could he have, than someone who realized that the demons were never far away and had to be kept at bay.
CHAPTER 39
Francine awoke the next morning, a new excitement in her mood as she contemplated the visit to try and locate Gerard. She had told Vince the night before that she was going on a quiet drive the next day in reply to which, he gave her a knowing wink and said. ”I hope you find him, Princess!”
DESIGN FOR LOVE Page 16
