by Karen Aldous
Lizzie burst into laughter imagining Anton’s fierce face with his dilemma. The graceful undulating green hills of the Luberon were much softer than the massive majestic mountains of the Alps – but it would not altogether be a lie. ‘What would I do without you Soph? You minx,’ she giggled. ‘It could take him a while to figure that one out.’
‘I would never underestimate that man Lizzie. I can just imagine Anton embracing the mission. Designer clad, trekking the peaks and meadows of the Alps in search of his son only to stumble instead on herds of grazing cows draped with those huge deafening bells jangling incessantly. Their so not ‘Armani Pour Homme’ dung clinging to his soft Italian leather mules. A hilarious vision!
Lizzie spewed a large snigger. ‘Although,’ Lizzie added after some thought, ‘why don’t I call him from the hotel phone in the foyer. The public one I mean, I don’t want him ringing me back on my mobile. In fact, the last thing I want him to have is my mobile number.’
The cooling sun sent them all into a relaxing slumber.
***
The evening was warm and balmy and after a refreshing shower, the trio enjoyed their meal on the hotel terrace, relaxing and savouring the spectacular view of the hazy pink hills. Lizzie, tense, couldn’t help but keep looking over her shoulder. She was becoming more and more on edge for some reason. Strangely, she felt that Anton was going to jump out behind her at any minute, which promptly reminded her.
‘Sugar! I forgot to call Anton. I will do it now.’ As she turned, her heart thumped so loud she swore the entire population of Bonnieux could hear it. Cal was being seated at a table inside the restaurant.
Chapter 9
The following morning Lizzie was up early after a night tossing around with just a morsel of sleep. All night she couldn’t get him out of her head and tormented herself with whether he actually saw her the previous evening.
Thierry was stirring and she saw that his sheet had slipped off. As she tiptoed round the bed to cover him again, she was suddenly startled by Sophie’s phone starting to ring.
Sophie grabbed her phone and pushing her hair from her face, she pressed the phone and glanced at the time. ‘Christophe? It’s seven o’clock in the morning and I’m on holiday.’ Sophie groaned listening to her caller. ‘I’m back the weekend. Why?’ At the next pause, Sophie’s jumped up in disbelief. ‘What do you mean they’ve…how, why? I sent you a copy.’ Sophie paced up and down, her head wrapped in one hand, the phone in the other. ‘Well, yes I have got a copy but it’s at home. It will be on my laptop.’ Sophie took a deep breath and scrunched her face in disgust. ‘I haven’t a choice have I? I’ll sort out a flight. I’ll ring you once I’ve got a flight.’
Lizzie couldn’t help but show her disappointment, but stroked a now wide-awake Thierry, his face grinning at Sophie. Unable to resist his charm Sophie greeted Thierry.
‘Hello, how is my favourite boy?’
‘Go phwim Aunty Sopie?’ he pleaded, holding up his arms and pulling at her heart.
‘I’m so sorry darling, Aunty Sophie has to go back to Paris. Lizzie, I can’t apologise enough. It seems they need a report urgently, well today actually. God knows where in cyberspace it is but Christophe says he didn’t get it so I’ll need to get back to my apartment. I’ve got them on my…’
‘Sophie, it’s fine, I completely understand. I’m just sorry you have to go.’ Lizzie was genuinely sad but tried to remain positive for all their sakes. She got Thierry dressed whilst Sophie telephoned the airline. ‘I’ll take you to the airport.’ Lizzie added.
‘Absolutely not my friend.’ Sophie’s hand rose in authority as she spoke in French to the airline and grabbed her small bag to pack. ‘You two are on holiday. I’ll ring the desk for a cab.’
‘It won’t take...’
‘No, I mean it. You have a walk planned. Thierry’s favourite.’
‘I’ll ring the desk whilst you pack then.’
‘That would be good, thanks,’ Sophie said, finishing her call to the airline. ‘Excellent, flight at twelve thirty back to Paris.’
Lizzie organised the taxi and then turned to her son. ‘Thierry can take Mummy for a walk today. Would you like that Thierry? Then afterwards we’ll have a swim.’
‘Will you try ringing Anton again?’ Sophie asked.
‘No, my message said I’m just in Provence for a few days, it didn’t need to specify where but, he’ll hopefully stop calling the apartment for a few days. Marie-Claire would have called if there was a problem, but I’ll give her a quick call now just to make sure she’s ok.’
After waving Sophie off from the front of the hotel Lizzie and Thierry headed to the restaurant for breakfast. With doors drawn back, the rising sun scattered its light delicately among the guests occupying the terrace tables, with the hills loitering deliciously in the distance. Such a shame Lizzie thought as she imagined her poor Sophie winding back down the hills to catch her plane. They stepped out to the terrace and Lizzie sat Thierry securely in a chair.
The waiter stood beside her with a coffee pot.
‘Yes, please and an orange juice. Also, pain au chocolate and toast, please,’ she asked, adding milk to her coffee. ‘Well Thierry, we will have to make the most of this captivating scenery together,’ she cheered, gasping at the rolling hills sprinkled with hues of crimson against the deep blue of the sky.
‘Any chance of sharing this captivating scenery with a lone traveller?’
Surprised, Lizzie twisted her body, following the sound behind her. So it was him she saw last night. Cal came towards her as she panted, instantly blood racing to her cheeks. Their eyes impenetrable.
Lizzie was mesmerized. His steel grey eyes harboured the Mediterranean azure which intensified the surrounding dark lashes. Stop you fool – what are you doing? Just say Hello and sit back down. Her trembling limbs however drifted magnetically to him, wanting to glide effortlessly into his arms.
‘Morning Lizzie,’ he said, breaking the spell, ‘How are you?’
‘Hi,’ she said as they greeted each other with friendly pecks on the cheeks. ‘Yes, good, thank you.’ She shivered, shaking the trance-like sensation out of her. She then turned back to her table with Cal following. She lifted Thierry and placed him on her lap as she sat. Thierry engaged in the visitor’s presence and smiled at him whilst Lizzie collected herself and her self-control. Her eyes then blazed at him with suspicion.
‘You’ve told her haven’t you? She has sent you,’ she said, almost whispering and not daring to speak aloud. Cal held his forehead briefly, his elbow suspended in the airing whilst Lizzie continued guessing. ‘Did you tell my mother? Is she with you?’
Cal sat opposite her. ‘No,’ he said.
The waiter brought her order and served Cal a coffee. She placed Thierry’s pain au chocolat on his plate and his small hands reached straight for it, chomping a bite.
Lizzie’s breathing got fast and shallow as she began to seep distrust. She had opened a piece of herself to him just when her confidence in him had been growing. She peered around. Maybe her mother was here. She wanted to run, to fight, to scream. It was as if she was being stalked. They were playing games with her. Oh God, she screeched inside as her eyes fell back to him and almost back under his spell.
‘No. No and no!’ Cal’s calm and softly spoken response tried desperately to re-install a trust in her whilst his eyes maintained a hungry contact with hers. ‘All no, I promise you.’ He reached tenderly for her arm and she pulled it back. He reached again, this time opening his palm for her hand and beckoned with his eyes. Warily she placed her hand in his and entrusted it to him. He took it and, gently stroking, slowly covered it with his other hand and securely squeezed. She tried to read his eyes, and her own intuition, not knowing whether to trust him. She then followed his eyes down to Thierry munching away at his breakfast.
‘As I promised,’ he continued softly, ‘I haven’t mentioned a word about this little one.’
‘Is she with you?’
Bringing his eyes back to hers and with his finger stroking the back of her hand, Lizzie forced her hand back. She was beginning to shake slavishly to his touch. They sat silently for a while until a sense of relief settled in her. She gazed back into his eyes, again seeking trust, but the energy increased, intensifying so much she forced them away. As she dared to look back, Cal’s eyes lowered and expression chilled.
‘I have returned home though and, I’m afraid I have some…’ Cal ran his hand over his knee, then glanced up at her, ‘news, well something I feel you should know,’ he continued.
‘Oh,’ Lizzie swallowed becoming curious.
‘Concerning your mother’s health,’ he said gently trying not to alarm her.
‘She looked absolutely fine to me a few weeks ago,’ Lizzie said.
But Cal continued. ‘She has found a lump and her doctor suspects… well, he’s running tests,’ Cal struggled with the right words ‘Look, she is unwell and I think would really appreciate seeing you or at least you getting back in touch.’
‘So she has sent you?’ she accused. ‘Isn’t she going rather too far now, creating an illness to control my life and get what she wants? That woman was always relentless in her power trips. She’s certainly got you where she wants you.’ Lizzie’s eyes blazed.
He glanced out to the now mist-ridden hills in the distance, clutching both hands between his knees and sighing haplessly. The silence hung between them.
‘Sorry Lizzie that you think I’m either colluding with your mother or that you consider my strings are being pulled by her. Harsh though it sounds, I think I actually know your mother better than you.’ He waited for her to speak. ‘Your mother isn’t as bad as you make out Lizzie.’
Lizzie pulled in Thierry’s chair the other side of her and reached for a beaker from her bag, noting Thierry had eaten her toast.
‘Please could I have some more toast?’ she asked the waiter.
‘Certainly Madame.’
‘No more coffee for me thanks,’ Cal told the waiter, glancing at his watch.
‘Well, if you had the kind of relationship with her I’d had, you wouldn’t think highly of her either.’
‘I don’t know enough about that to pass judgement,’ he said and stood. ‘I’m sorry. I have to go, I’ll be late,’ he told her, running his fingers through his hair. ‘I suggest you think about it. I’ll be back here later if you want to talk. Her illness could be life threatening. I promise you, I am simply the messenger.’
Lizzie stared after him as he strolled from the terrace and out of the restaurant. He didn’t seem very emotional for someone who’s just discovered his partner has a life-threatening illness. But then again, maybe the Navy hardens men like Cal.
She had no idea what to do, what to think. And, she must seem totally without emotion to him too. Why didn’t she react like she cared about her mother? Most daughters would. Maybe her mind was now so poisoned by events, she couldn’t possibly examine her emotions rationally. This was the work of a conniving mother who, if she was totally honest, she didn’t know anymore. How could she? When she did make it home for weekends she always had other things to do like shopping, and getting her hair and make-up ready to go out with her father and their friends. It was always her grandparents who prepared and cooked her meals. Sunday lunch was the only time they sat down as a family but she barely remembered any interest taken in her. Just instructions for the week ahead.
Her mother was lucky to have such a lovely, caring lover though, if he was as genuine as he seemed. Her mother never rushed to her aid like Cal does. Not even when Hugo broke her heart whilst she was at uni. No shoulder to cry on there. Her mother simply rejoiced in telling her she knew it would end in tears. That was when she promised herself never to talk to her ever again.
Why had she gone back? Her mother didn’t need her daughter, nor her grandson. Hadn’t she made it clear by leasing out the land that she thought of no one else but herself? She didn’t ever expect to see her child again. She’d made a new life with no room for a daughter. And, as for the illness, was she genuinely seriously ill – she didn’t look it?
Lizzie’s head thumped like the Grand National was hurtling through it, letting her know just how much work it was trying to deal with. She felt quite disgusted with herself. Not caring about her mother. Fantasising over her mother’s lover. Loathing him for making her feel this way. Then he was conspiring with her mother or maybe just looking after his own interest. He’d invested quite a lot in the vineyard and probably had a lot to lose. Was he genuine? Or was he really the lowest kind of rat? Any notion of breakfast had vanished. The smell of sweet pastries surrounding her made her stomach churn but at least Thierry had eaten. As the waiter appeared with toast she gave it to Thierry. She then poured some water for herself.
Lizzie took Thierry for a stroll into the village first before going the path she’d intended. She figured some browsing around the artisan shops might just take her mind off things for a while. To make it more fun for Thierry, she allowed him to push his buggy for a while whilst she browsed in a boutique with some fine linens but she couldn’t face going back to the hotel. She momentarily considered the bakery museum but couldn’t work up the enthusiasm to concentrate. So, enticing Thierry back into the buggy they headed off down to the roundabout on a route towards Lacoste.
Once off the road and on the path, it was peaceful and the scenery was calming with just a small breeze brushing her face and through her hair. She took a track they had walked with Sophie to Lacoste, another pretty hillside village only a few miles away, but she figured just a gentle relaxing stroll part of the way would be ideal. She undid the chair clasp for Thierry to safely and slowly saunter along the track, allowing him again to push the buggy along for amusement. Along the way, they spotted birds of prey swooping down in the distance or ‘diving’ into the grass, as Thierry put it.
How Lizzie wished her friend was here now to help her but she was probably on her flight back to Paris with more pressing things to attend to. She wondered what Sophie would advise her. She’d never faced so many demands all at once. Was she to trust Cal and her mother? It was an excruciating decision to make? Was she to trust herself and the mixed feelings that were so perplexing? One thing she knew for sure, she had to get rid of the toxicity inside her that was hauling her towards Cal and making her feel the way she did.
Knowing Sophie to be fair, she tried to guess what her advice would be. She would probably give Cal and her mother the benefit of the doubt, and probably tell her that not many people would make up such a tragic story. And what would be the reason? Would her mother really go that far? Something was still bothering Lizzie though.
The sun’s rays had burned the mist off early this morning. She was getting hot, so Thierry must be too.
‘Hold tight, little man,’ she told Thierry and she spun the buggy round and, glaring up the uphill climb, she stopped. Taking a baby wipe from the bag on the buggy, she cooled herself and Thierry briefly before adding a top up on sun lotion. The steep route back would only add to the exhaustion from the hot sunshine but Thierry insisted on walking. Lizzie relented on the condition he kept his hat on.
Lizzie felt no nearer to a decision about seeing her mother. What she was curious to know, as her mind still pondered, was, presuming Cal hadn’t told her mother much about her, why he was putting so much of his time and effort into reuniting them? How would Sophie answer this one? Could she trust herself to make a decision?
She must not let Cal influence her decision that much she knew. She must not let him take control. She had to be rational and do her own thinking. Plus, she must get a grip on her reactions to him. That was embarrassing and highly inappropriate. Loneliness steeped inside her as she trundled up the hill. Sophie Should I?
The only rock in her life other than Thierry was incommunicado. Sophie had always known what to do. Like a big sister sh
e never had, she was an amazing support when Lizzie was pregnant. And, she wasn’t afraid to be direct and to tell her the truth. Although Lizzie didn’t like to trouble her with too much. Sophie had a busy life.
Oh how unlucky can a girl get? Bloody Hugo, Anton. But, listening to Thierry chatter away, she felt truly lucky.
‘Are you enjoying your walk darling?’ she asked. He peered up to her, throwing his head back from under his hat and beaming a precious smile. The heat was having an obvious effect as his cheeks flushed.
‘Do you want a drink?’ she asked, pulling out his beaker. ‘After lunch and a sleep, we’ll have a nice cool swim.’
He had only eaten a banana since breakfast so he must be getting hungry. They could go for a swim when they got back to the hotel, which wasn’t too far now. God, she needed a long dip in the cool water after this uphill haul.
Back in her room, they quickly showered and changed, wearing their swimsuits under their clothes. She gathered Thierry’s bag, sun cream and towels. She then refilled his beaker and some of his biscuits. She was tempted to lie down on the freshly made beds and luxuriate in the coolness of the room but she feared she would miss Cal. They headed to the restaurant for a light lunch.
At the pool, with her son asleep and safely strapped in and shaded, Lizzie dived into the inviting blue pool and embraced the instant coolness. A few strokes later she emerged back at the surface and twisted her body on to her back, gracefully kicking her feet to glide along through the refreshing water – pure indulgence she thought, her eyes closed. Reaching the end of the pool, she glanced up to check on Thierry, but her eyes widened in disbelief.
Chapter 10
Anton glared right at her. Oh fuck, this is all I need! She quickly reasoned at least he could see that she was in France so she suddenly displayed her ‘told you so’ look and beamed confidently. ‘Well, this is a surprise. What have we done to deserve your company?’ she sniped.
