Family Divided

by Allen, Anne

  one way to celebrate.

  Charlotte waved Andy off the next morning aware of the chunk of lead settled in her stomach. This was to be her

  last full day in Guernsey and even though she reminded herself she planned to return soon, she wished she

  wasn’t going away. It seemed unfair – her efforts on Andy’s behalf had finally borne fruit, and she was leaving. If

  it wasn’t for her mother she would have stayed but…she shook her head. Her mother had to come first. At least

  she had something to look forward to that day as Louisa had suggested they meet for lunch at La Folie. They had

  not seen each other for nearly two weeks, but had kept in touch by phone. Determined to be more cheerful,

  Charlotte opened her laptop and lost herself in eighteenth century Naples for a few hours.

  Louisa was waiting in the dining room, having bagged a table tucked away at the back.

  ‘My, you’re positively blooming. Looks as if being with Andy suits you,’ Louisa said, embracing her.

  Charlotte felt her face flush. ‘Yes, methinks it does. And you seem particularly loved-up yourself.’ Louisa’s face

  glowed with happiness and the lines of worry had disappeared, making her look ten years younger. She was glad

  for her friend. It was about time she experienced happiness after the trauma of losing her mother. But knowing

  her own mother’s life might be cut short increased the leaden feeling in her gut.

  After ordering their meals, they settled down to the serious business of catching up.

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  ‘So, when are you two making it official?’

  Louisa fiddled with her cutlery. ‘It’s up to Paul. Although we’ve moved in together sooner than planned, we

  still need time to be absolutely sure. And I think Paul’s not completely happy about the cliché of marrying the

  boss’s daughter. He’s too sensitive for his own good, that’s the trouble.’ She sighed.

  ‘I’m absolutely convinced you two were made for each other, so don’t worry. You could always get Malcolm

  to threaten him with a shotgun if he doesn’t make an honest woman of you!’ Charlotte said, giggling.

  Louisa joined in and the mood lightened just as their food arrived. All was quiet while they made inroads into

  their salads. Charlotte, after checking there was no-one in earshot, shared her news about Maud and Harold.

  Louisa sat transfixed, food balanced on her fork.

  ‘Wow! It’s like something out of a book or a film. Andy must be over the moon. And Jim. He does know, I

  presume?’

  ‘Yes, Andy told his parents yesterday. But there was a hitch…’ She went on to tell her about Harold’s threats

  to Jim and Louisa’s eyes opened even wider.

  ‘How awful! Poor Jim. No-one could understand why he hadn’t pushed his claim and now it all makes sense.’

  She looked thoughtful as she chewed on a mouthful of salmon.

  ‘It does. The only problem is nothing will happen until after Maud dies and then it’s up to the police what

  happens about Harold. Jim’s not lodging his claim yet, to avoid stirring up problems for the old lady. Oh, and

  Andy told his parents about me.’

  The women carried on chatting as they ate and Charlotte was glad they’d found time to meet. One thing she

  didn’t have in London was a close girlfriend and she and Louisa got on so well. It was ironic, she thought,

  although they were both living in the city at the same time, they actually did not meet until both were in

  Guernsey, at La Folie. And now it looked as if they were both planning to live permanently in the island. Funny

  how life turns out.

  It was Halloween on Saturday and the ubiquitous hollowed out pumpkin lanterns glowed in house windows as

  Andy drove Charlotte to the airport that evening. Anxious parents shepherded their small offspring, carrying

  buckets and dressed up as witches, vampires or devils as they went from house to house trick or treating.

  Charlotte watched them, her eyes moist as she wondered again whether or not she would one day be a mother.

  She had not broached the subject with Andy yet, feeling it might be too soon. He had said nothing to indicate his

  views either way, and she resolved to say something when she returned.

  ‘You look thoughtful. Anything you want to share?’

  She turned to face him and smiled. ‘No, I was only watching the children in their outfits. Quite scary some of

  them, aren’t they?’

  Andy peered out of the window and nodded. ‘Yep, they must have spent ages putting on their face paint.’

  Turning back to her he added, ‘Are you okay? You’ve been very quiet today.’

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  Her mouth twisted. ‘There’s been a lot to think about. But I’m okay, thanks.’

  ‘Good.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘I’ll phone you every day so you won’t feel lonely in that mansion of yours,’ he

  said, with a grin.

  ‘Hardly a mansion! But it is a bit big for one person, I admit. Although there’s Mrs Thomas and her flat takes

  up the top floor.’

  ‘I rest my case! I look forward to seeing it one day.’

  ‘As soon as things settle down we’ll have a weekend in London together. It’ll be fun,’ she said, wondering how

  long it would take. There was her mother and the situation with Maud and Harold to contend with…

  Andy pulled into the airport and drove into the car park. Charlotte walked alongside holding his free hand

  while he wheeled her case to departures. Once she was checked in they took the stairs to the café where he

  ordered a glass of wine for her and a lager for himself. There was plenty of time as her flight was delayed by half

  an hour.

  ‘So much has happened since I arrived in September. It’s hard to believe it’s only been a couple of months,’

  she said, swirling her glass of Merlot.

  He clutched her hand. ‘They’ve been the best weeks of my life, so far. And here’s to many more!’ he said,

  touching her glass with his. She returned the toast, thinking if anyone had told her two months ago what lay in

  store for her, she wouldn’t have believed them.

  ‘And you’re soon to become heir to a valuable estate. Life’s definitely on the up for you,’ she said, tilting her

  head on one side.

  ‘Haven’t given it much thought. Despite his back, Dad’s pretty fit and could last for many years yet so I don’t

  think I’ll get to play the part of wealthy playboy,’ he said, his mouth pulled down.

  ‘Hey! Playboy indeed! Apart from anything else it would be a waste of your talents as an architect. Wouldn’t

  you prefer to be remembered as the man who designed such and such a building rather than the man who blew

  a fortune on fast cars and women?’ she said, punching his arm.

  ‘Ouch! Okay, I’ll settle for being the successful architect lucky enough to have captured the most wonderful,

  beautiful woman as his wife. What do you think?’ He gazed into her eyes and she blinked.

  ‘Have…have you just proposed? Or…?’ she found it difficult to breathe, not wanting him to say he was teasing.

  Andy knelt beside her, holding out the ring-pull from his can of lager.

  ‘Charlotte, beautiful Charlotte. Would you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?’

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  chapter thirty-two

  She burst out laughing. She knew she shouldn’t, but the sight of Andy on one knee holding out the ring-pull was

  too much.

  ‘If you really mean it, then yes, I’d be honoured to be your wi
fe. Now, please get up before anyone notices,’

  she said, allowing him to fit the ‘ring’ on her finger. Glancing around she caught a few people giving them funny

  looks.

  ‘Thank God for that, I didn’t want to look a prat only to get turned down,’ he said, kissing her before regaining

  his chair. A huge smile filled his face and she smiled in return, her heart thumping with excitement and love.

  ‘I hadn’t planned to ask you yet, hence the lack of a ring. But having to say goodbye yet again, brought it home

  to me how much I love you and didn’t want to lose you.’ Andy picked up her hands and kissed her fingers one by

  one, avoiding the piece of metal on her ring finger. His eyes locked onto hers as he went on, ‘Since learning the

  truth about Harold and…and everything, I’ve gained more self-respect. I needed to be worthy of you and now I

  feel I am.’

  ‘But Andy, you were always worthy of me. You’re a wonderful, clever, loving man and any woman would be

  proud to call you hers. I’m just glad you chose me,’ she said, still shell-shocked.

  Before he could say any more the tannoy interrupted, announcing the departure of her flight. They scrambled

  downstairs and Andy stood by while she headed towards security.

  ‘We’ll choose a ring when you get back!’ he shouted, waving. She smiled and waved her left hand,

  remembering to remove the ring-pull before going through the metal detector. ‘My engagement ring,’ she

  explained to a puzzled looking security guard as she binned it. Once through she ran to the gate where she was

  the last passenger to arrive. Even a frown from the check-in girl couldn’t burst her bubble of happiness as she

  followed the other passengers out to the plane.

  After take-off the drinks trolley was wheeled out and Charlotte ordered champagne. Although the norm

  would be to share it with her new fiancé, this wasn’t possible so she raised her plastic glass in a silent toast to

  Andy – cheers!

  On Sunday morning Charlotte woke up momentarily disorientated. A grey light filtered through the curtains and

  as her eyes adjusted she realised she was in her own bedroom in London and not in Andy’s. The pang of

  disappointment was soon replaced with the memory of his proposal. She lay on her back and stretched,

  luxuriating in the knowledge of her engagement, albeit unofficial while sans ring and sans fiancé.

  They had talked for what seemed like hours the previous night after she arrived home. It was agreed neither

  would say anything to their respective parents until they were together again and had bought a ring. This meant

  Andy would need to fly over to England to meet her mother, something Charlotte was, at this time, not entirely

  happy about. Still, it could hardly be avoided, she told herself. But Annette could be charming when she wanted

  to be, particularly if the man concerned was shortly to become heir to an estate.

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  Reluctant to get up and face the first day on her own for weeks, Charlotte padded barefoot across the

  Aubusson carpet to the window and drew the curtains. The first day of November lived up to its poor reputation

  with fog swirling around the square, obscuring the central private garden. Not much of a welcome home, she

  thought, frowning. She tried to conjure up the image of the view from La Folie on a bright, spring day and failed.

  All she saw was grey fog enveloping the grey figures of those brave enough to venture out.

  Turning back into the room Charlotte decided the only thing to do was to enjoy a long soak in the bath,

  enveloped in the scent of exotic oils. Her en suite was spacious enough to accommodate the swinging of a family

  of cats, and as she turned on the tap over the voluminous bath tub, wished Andy was there to share it. While

  waiting for it to fill, she called Mrs Thomas on the house phone to ask for a pot of coffee. Once the oils were

  added to the steaming water, a fragrant mist filled the room and Charlotte felt more cheerful. Mrs Thomas

  arrived with the coffee, placing the tray on a small table beside the bath. After she left, Charlotte sank into the

  bath with a sigh of contentment.

  Then the doubts crept in. This house – her house – was a stunning, Georgian house immaculately and

  expensively furnished. Complete with the most efficient housekeeper Charlotte had ever known. And she was

  planning to give it up for a charming, but comparatively small cottage in Guernsey, minus any help. Could she do

  it? She loved Andy to bits and wanted to spend her life with him, but it would be at a high cost. Money wasn’t an

  issue. She had loads and Andy was successful in his work, so not exactly broke. But financially not in her league.

  She couldn’t imagine him letting her pay for everything, he had his male pride. And he was not likely to inherit

  from Jim for many years so…How could she suggest a compromise without either hurting or angering him? No

  solution popped into her head. Oh, hell, why can’t life be simple? She sank under the bubbles, thinking she would

  have to speak to Andy about it. Soon.

  Later that morning, Andy phoned and after a few moments of catching up, Charlotte brought up what was on

  her mind.

  ‘Andy, everything has happened so fast and we haven’t had time to discuss where we’ll live and how we’ll

  pool our resources. Both quite important issues, don’t you think?’ She held her breath.

  ‘I assumed we’d live in the cottage or is it not grand enough for you?’ He sounded hurt.

  Oh dear. This wasn’t going to be easy. ‘I neither want nor need grand. But it’s not exactly large, is it? And I’m

  happy to help with buying something bigger–’

  ‘I don’t need your money! And I’ve put so much of myself into the cottage–’

  ‘I know you have. Let’s talk about it later shall we? When I get back,’ she said hurriedly, not wanting to have a

  row only hours after becoming engaged.

  ‘All right, if we have to.’

  Charlotte rang off, feeling frustrated. Why did Andy have to be so pig-headed about money and property?

  Richard had been only too happy to accept her not inconsiderable financial contributions after their marriage.

  And she couldn’t help but see the irony in Andy shortly becoming heir to wealth in his own right.

  After giving herself a few minutes to calm down, she phoned her mother. Annette confirmed she would be

  arriving on Monday at lunchtime and planned to stay for two or three nights, but would be out most of the time.

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  This suited Charlotte as she needed to spend time at the office catching up with Tony. With the weather so grim

  she could not face leaving the house and made herself comfortable in what had been her father’s library, now

  housing a desktop computer on the Victorian partners’ desk. Looking around at the serried ranks of books safely

  stored behind the glazed doors of the floor to ceiling bookshelves, Charlotte had a brief vision of her father,

  content in the old leather armchair, a book in his hands and a glass of wine or brandy on a table by his side. On

  occasion a cigar was lit, but more often than not, would burn itself out in the ashtray if her father became

  engrossed in his book. Closing her eyes now, she could discern the faint smell of cigar smoke which had

  permeated the fabric of the room. Her chest tightened with the pain of her grief and tears seeped down her

  cheeks.

  Oh, why did he have to go and leave her? She needed him now, wanted him to sa
y her mother would be fine,

  there was nothing to worry about. Just as he had said many times when she was a child and something had

  upset her. She whispered to the empty room, ‘Daddy, I’ve met this amazing man and…and we’re engaged.

  Richard left last year so I’m free to start again and Andy makes me feel happy and…loved. Though there are

  some problems…I’d like your blessing, please, and wish you could meet him.’ Brushing away the tears, she

  continued, ‘Mother’s ill again, and we don’t know if she’ll pull through. Can you help? I’m not sure how, but–’ she

  broke off as her mobile trilled into life. She blew her nose and answered it, not checking the caller.

  ‘Charlotte? Martin Kite. Hope I haven’t disturbed you?’

  ‘Not at all, Martin. Has…has something happened?’ Her pulse quickened in anticipation.

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid Mrs Batiste passed away last night and I thought you might like to know.’

  ‘Of course, thank you. Were you with her?’

  ‘I was. Sal had phoned to say the doctor thought it was imminent and I sat with her. It was peaceful, which is

  always a blessing in these circumstances,’ he said, sombrely.

  ‘Was…her husband there?’

  ‘Actually, he wasn’t. He had gone out earlier in the evening to have dinner with some friends, I believe, but

  hadn’t left a contact number with Sal.’ Charlotte heard him sniff.

  ‘Oh. I don’t suppose there’s a date arranged for the funeral? I’d quite like to attend if I can make it.’

  ‘Not yet, no, but it’s likely to be the week after this. I can let you know.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Mm, what will you do about the statement, Martin?’

  ‘Ah, yes. It’s been very much on my mind these past few days. I spoke to an old friend here who happens to be

  a retired policeman and sounded him out. He said I should arrange to see the Chief Officer and has offered to go

  with me, as they worked together. Naturally, I didn’t mention any names to John, but now Mrs Batiste is no

  longer with us, it doesn’t matter. I shall go along tomorrow but will request no action is taken until after the