‘No chance of looking anything but ordinary in these things,’ Trisha grumbled.
‘Think there was a dearth of attractive things around during the war,’ Katie said. ‘Clothing coupons were rationed and it was a case of mend and make-do for most people. What about these?’ she added, as she pulled out a woollen navy pleated skirt with a matching jacket. ‘Look, here’s a beret and a pair of shoes.’
Trisha pulled a face before disappearing into the back room to try the things on. Katie found herself a brown trench coat with a belt that would go over her own clothes and a pair of thick knitted stockings to go with some brown lace-up brogues. As she tied a patterned scarf over her head Noah Jnr arrived with a young woman clutching a clipboard and a wicker basket. Bert gave them both an enthusiastic welcome.
‘Oh, what a shame you’re not an old-fashioned Labrador,’ the young woman said, bending down to pet him. ‘You could have been in the film then.’
‘Katie, meet my sister Vicky. Dad’s put her in charge of continuity – making her do some work for a change.’ Noah laughed as his sister poked her tongue out at him.
‘Hi, Katie, good to meet you,’ Vicky said. ‘Can you put some wool and wooden needles in this, please?’ she added, as she handed Katie a wicker basket. ‘Some navy wool would be ideal – otherwise something dark. I need you to carry it for the scene. Thanks.’
Just then, Trisha appeared in her costume. ‘This is gross. I wish I hadn’t told my boyfriend to come and watch, now.’
‘You’ll need to take off that gold bracelet and your earrings, please,’ Vicky said, looking at Trisha. ‘They’re too modern. Otherwise you’re fine.’
‘Right,’ Noah said. ‘Let’s get started.’
A small crowd had gathered in the street to watch the filming and Trisha self-consciously waved to a long-haired boy standing next to Ron, the Blackawton cousin. ‘He’s only gone and brought his granddad too,’ she moaned.
Katie stood still and looked at her. Trisha was dating Ron’s grandson? Now why did that knowledge fill her with apprehension?
The two Noahs and Vicky were waiting for her in the lounge of the Castle Hotel when Katie arrived alone later that evening.
‘Sorry. Am I very late? Bert wouldn’t settle when I took him home. He’s missing Mattie,’ she explained breathlessly.
‘No problem,’ Noah Snr said. ‘Where’s Trisha?’
‘Sends her apologies but she’s had to go somewhere urgent with her boyfriend, Gary, and his granddad,’ Katie said. ‘She’s promised to join us later.’ She kept her misgivings over what exactly Trisha was doing with Ron Blackawton to herself.
‘Noah Jnr is so cute,’ she’d said excitedly, when Katie had told her about the dinner invitation. ‘His accent is cool. I’d love a proper date with him.’
So what or who had made Trisha change her mind about having dinner at the hotel with the Empreys? Her boyfriend? Or his grandfather? Just how close was Trisha to the Blackawton cousins? Tomorrow at work she’d have a chat with her. Warn her not to discuss wool shop business with Gary or Ron.
‘Shall we go up to the restaurant?’ Noah Snr said. ‘They’ve promised us a table overlooking the Boat Float and river.’
‘I haven’t been in here for years,’ Katie said as they began to make their way through the hotel to the Grill Room. ‘My mum used to bring me sometimes after ballet on a Saturday morning as a special treat. Felt really grown-up sipping my orange juice in the Galleon Bar – especially if any of the naval cadets from the college were in.’
‘We’ve seen some old photos taken during the time Operation Overlord was swinging into action and the interior was totally different then. Full of American soldiers too,’ Noah said. ‘Wish we could turn the clock back for a day. Filming modern history in an ancient town has its problems, that’s for sure.’ He shrugged his shoulders as Katie looked at him.
‘It’s difficult to convey mid-twentieth-century events taking place in all these medieval buildings and streets, which is why the re-enactments in the appropriate clothes are so important. At least the coastline and the beaches have stayed relatively the same through the years.’
‘How’s filming going generally? People willing to talk a bit more?’ Katie asked.
Vicky laughed. ‘Dad’s tearing his hair out. He can usually charm information out of anybody but you people are so private.’
‘Details regarding Operation Overlord aren’t too difficult to dig up,’ Noah Jnr said. ‘But nobody really wants to talk about that time at all. As for Operation Tiger,’ he shrugged, ‘everyone is in mass denial and the rumours abound. If it wasn’t for that tank in Slapton you could be forgiven for thinking it had never happened.’
Noah Snr raised his glass in a toast to Katie. ‘Thank you for your help anyway. Now tell us how you’ve ended up running a wool shop.’
Katie placed her hand over her glass as the waiter went to pour more wine. ‘No more, thanks. It was Mattie’s suggestion when I was made redundant. The big surprise is how much I’m actually enjoying it – and living back down here again.’
‘Home towns always have a special place in one’s heart,’ Noah Snr said.
‘Mattie would say that was typical American sentimentality if she were here,’ Katie laughed. ‘But I think you’re right.’
‘Mattie had a hard time growing up here during the war?’ Vicky asked.
‘I don’t think it was any harder for her than most of her generation,’ Katie said quietly. ‘The death of her sister after the war seems to have affected her more than anything. I think the problem is she wasn’t ever encouraged to talk about it and she bottled up all her emotions. It’s probably too late now but I think she needs to talk it all out with someone.’
‘Maybe it would pave the way if we could persuade her to talk to us about things she remembers,’ Noah said.
‘You could try but I don’t hold out much hope,’ Katie said. ‘Very stubborn is Mattie. I’m hoping her Mediterranean cruise will help her relax.’
Vicky laughed. ‘Our great-grandmother was like that. So’s Grandma Elizabeth. You can’t make her do a thing she doesn’t want to, can you, Dad?’
‘No. Currently I’m trying to persuade her to come to Europe for a holiday before we finish filming,’ Noah Snr said to Katie. ‘Won’t even consider the idea. Says she’s too busy dealing with my late grandmother’s effects after she died three months ago.’
‘Must be a difficult time for her,’ Katie said. ‘Especially if she and her mother were close?’
Noah nodded. ‘They were.’
‘I’ll try to uncover some more family history over here,’ Vicky said. ‘That might work. She’s fascinated by genealogy,’ she added in an aside to Katie.
Katie was trying to choose between a delicious-sounding crème brûlée and a dish of nougat parfait with raspberry compote when a breathless Trisha arrived.
‘Oh good. You’re still here. Sorry I’m so late. Am I too late to eat? Only I’m starving.’
‘I’m sure they’ll find you something,’ Noah Snr said, catching the attention of a waitress.
‘So what was so important that Gary wanted?’ Katie couldn’t help asking.
Trisha shrugged. ‘Just something his granddad insisted had to be done tonight.’ Smiling, she accepted a glass of wine Noah Jnr poured her and turned back to Katie.
‘Have to tell you before I forget – I can’t work tomorrow morning. Sorry.’
About to protest it was short notice and she was letting her down, Katie bit her tongue. The restaurant wasn’t the place to argue with Trisha over work, so she simply said, ‘OK. Tomorrow afternoon?’
‘Afternoon is fine,’ Trisha said.
‘Good. I want to talk to you then too.’
It was almost eleven o’clock when Katie said her goodbyes to everyone, declining an offer of an escort home from Noah Snr. ‘I’ll be fine. It’s not far and there are still people about.’
As she reached the steps in Fairfax Place she jumped
as Leo fell into step beside her.
‘Switched your phone off?’
‘No. It’s in my bag as usual,’ Katie said, not adding that she could never hear it ringing in there. ‘Why?’
‘I’ve been ringing and texting you for over an hour, that’s why.’
‘What’s wrong? It’s not Mattie, is it?’
‘Somebody broke into the shop tonight,’ Leo said. ‘Hey, where are you going?’
‘Stupid question. The shop of course,’ Katie said, turning away and beginning to run towards Lower Street.
‘Nothing you can do tonight,’ Leo protested. ‘I’ve made sure everything is secure now.’
‘How?’ Katie flung the question over her shoulder as she continued running.
‘Mattie left me her spare keys.’
She might have guessed Mattie would leave her keys with Leo. All contingencies covered. ‘Is there much damage? How did they get in?’
‘Through the clubroom window. No real damage as far as I could see but they have messed things up a bit.’
Katie was panting when they reached the shop and took several deep breaths while Leo unlocked the door. ‘Be careful where you tread,’ he warned.
Katie had difficulty in holding back the tears when she saw the state of the shop. Leo’s ‘They’ve messed things up a bit’ had failed to prepare her for what greeted her as she pushed open the door. There was wool all over the floor, several shelves had been swept clean – their contents strewn all over. The postcard stand had been tipped upside down, kits and jewellery were flung together in a heap. Total mayhem.
‘Why do people do things like this?’ she said.
‘Any number of reasons. Way things are these days,’ Leo said. ‘You’ll have to check if there’s anything missing in the morning. Right now I think you should go home.’
‘You sure everything is secure?’
‘Katie, I told you I’ve sorted it. Nothing you can do until the morning. Come on, I’ll walk you home. And do me a favour in future, will you? Keep your phone where you can hear it.’
NINE
Mattie waited until the white-gloved butler had closed the door behind him before sinking down onto a chair. From the moment she’d been handed a flute of champagne as she embarked, reality had been ebbing away from her. Now, looking around what was to be her home for the next ten days she was speechless.
Her first-class cabin had turned out to be a suite and was as luxurious as Mattie had been promised. She’d never been so close to such luxury before. The marble and gold in the bathroom would have done justice to a palace. As for the queen-size bed with its creamy cotton sheets, featherweight duvet and the pillows she’d chosen from the selection the butler had offered her – she almost wished it was bedtime so she could sink down into a blissful sleep.
The spacious saloon reminded Mattie of a drawing room she’d once seen in a Homes and Gardens magazine. Thick cream carpet, a sofa and three chairs covered in a Mediterranean blue material, table lamps standing on polished occasional tables and a small bureau in one corner with personalized stationery. It was, the butler had assured her, ‘large enough for you to entertain the friends you will make on board’.
She went across to the bathroom and opened the door. Bigger than her bathroom at home, there was a vast array of all the soaps and toiletries she could ever want lined up on the sink vanity unit. Large soft towels were on the towel rail; a white bathrobe hung on the hook. As soon as she’d unpacked she’d take a shower.
There was no sign of her suitcases in the bedroom. They’d been whisked away at embarkation as the champagne had been placed in her hand and she’d assumed they would be placed ready for her in the cabin. So where were they? Uncertain as to what she should do, Mattie wished she’d asked the butler where they were before he’d left.
The modern unit in the bedroom had several drawers and a wardrobe to one side. Absently Mattie opened the door, wondering about hangers – she hadn’t packed any – to find all her clothes hanging up neatly on padded hangers, her shoes lined up on the rack at the bottom. Pulling open one of the dressing unit drawers she saw her underwear neatly folded. Thank God Katie had insisted she went shopping for new clothes before her holiday. Imagine the embarrassment if the butler, or whoever had done her unpacking, had seen her old underwear. In another drawer were her blouses and cardigans.
The butler had left the glass doors leading to her private veranda open and hearing the ship’s hooter give a warning sound, Mattie wandered out. They were casting off and manoeuvring their way out to the open sea. She sat for some time in the cushion-loaded Lloyd Loom chair, watching the Nice shoreline fade into the distance, before turning back into her suite. A shower and then she would go exploring before dinner.
Carefully closing her cabin door behind her, Mattie made her way along the carpeted corridor towards the main part of the ship. The glossy brochure she’d looked at back in her cottage had in no way prepared her for what she found.
She was on board a floating palace. There was no other way to describe it. Thick carpet in all the main areas, chandeliers hanging in the shopping mall with its designer label outlets, the intimate theatre, the spa, the library, the restaurants, the pool. There was so much, so many opportunities for pleasure and for relaxing.
Clutching several activity sheets, which a helpful girl at the information desk near the entrance to the shopping mail had pressed on her, Mattie wandered out on deck. Bypassing the swimming pool with its attendant sunloungers, Mattie found herself a deckchair at the far end of the top deck and settled down to decide how she would spend the rest of the day and plan her itinerary for tomorrow.
A steward appeared at her side. ‘Madame would like a drink?’
About to decline with her customary politeness, she changed her mind. She was thirsty. ‘A long, cold, non-alcoholic one would be nice,’ she said and settled back to await its arrival.
Looking through all the various things on offer she could do, Mattie decided she’d spend the rest of the day quietly, have dinner in the Gourmet Restaurant and then spend the evening in her cabin with a book from the library. An early night in that comfortable bed beckoned after her day of travelling.
Tomorrow she would swim, book herself a massage in the spa, have her hair done, maybe even have a manicure. Somehow this glamorous ship made her feel she’d be letting it down if she didn’t make an effort to look her best.
Sipping the elaborate pink drink with its umbrella and swizzle stick floating in some creamy froth the steward had returned with, Mattie looked around at her fellow passengers. She was the only woman on her own. Everyone else was part of a couple.
Mattie, used to being on her own, had thought she wouldn’t mind holidaying as such but now, looking at the happy people around her, she wasn’t so sure. It would have been fun to be able to turn to someone and say, ‘This drink is amazing,’ or ‘That woman’s dress is a lovely colour,’ but there was no-one she could share such thoughts with.
Still, it was only the first day of her holiday, she was sure to meet some of her fellow passengers tonight in the restaurant. There had to be other single people on board. And tomorrow night the butler had told her she was to dine at the captain’s table. She was looking forward to that.
Twenty-four hours later and Mattie was surprised at how much she was enjoying life on board. She’d enjoyed her day, had met some lovely people who’d invited her to join them for lunch and now she was taking her new red cocktail dress with its sequins out of the wardrobe and preparing to meet the captain.
She looked at herself in the full-length mirror and barely recognized the woman reflected. The dress Katie had helped her choose, insisting that she would need something glamorous to wear for evenings on board, fitted her perfectly. The hairdresser that morning had not only talked her into having her hair restyled but had insisted some lowlights would also be a good idea. The strappy shoes on her feet had heels which, whilst not in the Christian Lacroix league, were certainly high
er than the comfy court shoes she normally wore. Picking up her evening bag from the table, Mattie hoped she could live up to this new persona of hers that somehow she’d managed to create today.
Throwing a pashmina over her shoulders, Mattie left the suite and made her way to the dining room. As she hovered uncertainly by the entrance, a tall man already in the room walked across to her and escorted her to the table.
‘I am Henri,’ he said, formally shaking her hand. ‘We are both alone, I think, so we sit together for dinner?’
‘Mattie,’ she said, noting his French accent and grateful for his suggestion. Being on her own for dinner, surrounded by couples, had been a daunting prospect. ‘Thank you.’
‘You enjoy the cruise so far?’ Henri asked.
Mattie smiled. ‘The ship is unbelievable. I’ve never seen anything like it before. There’s so much to do – as for the food …’
‘It is always the same – so much temptation. It is your first time on a cruise?’
‘Actually it’s my first time away from England too,’ she said. What on earth had prompted her to tell such a suave man that? She must sound like a pathetic old woman.
Henri simply smiled. ‘You have chosen well. We visit some lovely places this week but one you must not miss is the Ile St Honorat when we anchor off Cannes. It is one of my most favourite places in the world.’
‘You know it well?’
‘Oui. I was born in Cannes. Now I live in Paris. My wife was Parisian,’ Henri said. ‘No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get her to leave. Not even for the Côte d’Azur.’ He gestured towards the distant coastline. ‘But now,’ he shrugged, ‘I think I may finally return.’
‘Your wife has died?’ Mattie asked gently.
‘A year ago. I am slowly adjusting to life without her.’
Mattie touched him on the arm. ‘I am so sorry.’
Leaving the captain’s table later that evening, they went to the ship’s ornate theatre together and watched the variety show before Henri insisted on them sharing a nightcap in the Cocktail Bar.
Shadows of Conflict Page 6
