by Allen, Anne
funeral. A reasonable compromise, I thought. Do you agree?’
She did and as they finished the call, was left experiencing a mix of sadness and relief. As she scrolled to
Andy’s number on her mobile the thought crossed her mind the ‘John’ Martin referred to might be John
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Ferguson, the retired inspector who helped Louisa track down her mother’s killer. If it was, then she thought
Maud’s statement would be in safe hands. And now she had good news for Andy.
The fog lifted on Monday and with it Charlotte’s spirits. She made an early start and was in the office by eight
thirty, much to the surprise of the receptionist who, judging by her flustered appearance, had only just arrived
herself. Charlotte smiled and after exchanging greetings, headed to her office. The Georgian building, minutes
away from her house in the heart of Bloomsbury, had been divided into three and Townsend Publishers
occupied the entire first floor. The rooms were light and airy, enjoying high, elaborate ceilings and original
marble fireplaces. Charlotte’s father always referred to it as “a home from home” and she could see why. It was
like a cosy club, with panelled rooms leading off the central staircase. Charlotte had just settled at her desk when
Tony appeared.
He grinned at her. ‘The grapevine announced your arrival and it’s good to see you here, Charlotte. How’s
things?’
‘Fine, thanks. You’d better sit down, Tony, we’ve a lot to discuss. First of all, can we talk about Chris’s books?’
Once they had discussed those books and others in the pipeline, Charlotte explained about her ideas for the
future and her intended move to Guernsey. Tony was surprised and pleased she had met someone and
confirmed he would be happy to take on a bigger role within the company.
The walk back to the house took five minutes and Charlotte dawdled, keen to enjoy some fresh air after a
morning in the office. The deciduous trees in the square were shadows of their former selves, stark against their
evergreen neighbours. The overcast sky emphasised the bleaching of colour from the area, leaving only white,
grey and splashes of green. Charlotte felt as if the city was telling her to move on, find somewhere with more
light and colour. As she approached her house, a taxi drew up outside, depositing her mother on the pavement.
The driver carried the case up the short flight of steps before leaving.
‘Hello, Mother. Did you have a good journey?’ Charlotte asked, kissing her cheek before opening the front
door.
‘Yes thank you. For once the train was on time and the heating worked.’ Annette was muffled up in a heavy
wool coat, scarf and gloves as if venturing to the arctic rather than London in November. Charlotte left the case
in the hall and went in search of Mrs Thomas while her mother unwrapped herself. She came back to find her in
the sitting room, rubbing her hands by the fire.
‘Lunch will be ready in fifteen minutes, Mother.’ She went and stood by her, trying to examine her face as she
warmed her own hands. The dark shadows had gone and it looked as if her mother had put on some weight.
Good. ‘You’re looking well. How’s it going with the treatments?’
‘Quite well, I believe. It’s why I’m here as Gillian wants to run some tests to check my progress. Are you free
to take me this afternoon? I have an appointment at four.’
‘Of course. Will you be seeing her again this week?’
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‘On Wednesday or Thursday, depending when the results are ready. Then we’re to discuss the new protocol
she’s excited about and wants me to consider.’ Annette turned to face her. ‘What are your plans, Charlotte? Are
you back for good?’
‘Not exactly. I’m happy to stay if you need my help with anything and I’ve things to sort out here, but I might
need to return to Guernsey next week. A funeral,’ she added, thinking at least that was true.
Her mother’s eyebrows shot up. ‘A funeral! But surely you haven’t lost a friend so soon?’
‘No, no, it’s…a friend’s aunt, and they would like my support. But it’s not important, if you–’
Annette waved her hand. ‘I don’t need you to be here, Charlotte. Go and be with your friend if you wish, I’m
sure she would appreciate your thoughtfulness.’
Charlotte felt her cheeks redden but didn’t correct her mother’s assumption. But one day there’d be a lot of
explaining to do…
Mrs Thomas came to announce lunch was ready and they moved to the morning room at the back of the
house. They were greeted by the enticing aroma of home-made vegetable soup, accompanied by plates of salad
and glasses of freshly made juices, Mrs Thomas having been advised of Annette’s strict diet. Once settled at the
table conversation was desultory, consisting mainly of observations on the weather and what the local WI had
planned for the winter months.
Later Charlotte drove her mother to Richmond and waited while she was with Gillian. She was pleased to see
them come out smiling from the consulting room.
‘Your mother’s doing really well, Charlotte, and assuming the blood tests are good, I think we can say the
programme’s working,’ Gillian said, patting Annette’s arm. ‘It might mean Annette spends some further time at
La Folie and I’m sure a room could be found, if it suits you both?’
‘It’s fine by me, if Mother’s happy to go back,’ Charlotte said, giving Annette a quizzical look.
‘I can hardly refuse to go if it’s improving my chances of recovery, can I?’
‘Good. I’ll see you on Wednesday afternoon and we can go over the results and confirm the ongoing
treatment,’ Gillian said, guiding them to the front door. After exchanging goodbyes, they left.
Once in the car Charlotte asked her mother if Gillian had said when she would need to return to Guernsey.
Annette replied the following week had been suggested, subject to room availability. Charlotte nodded, thinking
it could work out well with her own plan to return for Maud’s funeral. And she and Andy could announce their
engagement to both sets of parents at the same time. Perfect!
The next morning Annette disappeared to meet up with a fellow WI chairwoman, saying she would be out for
lunch. Charlotte was happy to return to the library and her writing, glad to be relieved of chauffeur duties. She
had not made much progress when she received a call from the rector. He started off by saying the funeral was
arranged for the following Monday at 2 pm, if she still wished to attend.
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‘It looks as if I might be coming back next weekend anyway, Martin, so that’s fine. How…how did it go with
the police?’ she asked, keeping her fingers crossed.
‘The Chief Officer was, to put it mildly, astonished to be presented with evidence relating to a crime which
took place more than sixty years ago, but he agreed it would be pursued. Mr Batiste will be taken in for
questioning after the funeral as I’d suggested and, in the meantime, the police will dig out the old files. I’m glad
my friend John was with me as apparently he solved another war-time case, which meant the Chief took it
seriously. Right, I’d better get on and I hope to see you next week,’ he said, briskly, before ending the call.
Charlotte immediately rang Andy with the news and he, in turn, said he’d pass it on to his fath
er. They had
arranged to see an advocate later in the week to discuss Jim’s claim to the estate. She heard the excitement in his
voice as the time was fast approaching for Harold’s downfall.
‘I only wish I could be there when he’s arrested but guess I’ll have to settle for reading it in the Guernsey
Evening Press. Dad’s still not taken it in, but once we’ve seen the advocate, it should become more real. Mum’s
already looking at holiday brochures!’ he said, laughing.
‘Good for her! They deserve it. Perhaps they should consider a world cruise, it would give them a chance to
enjoy some well-earned pampering while seeing the sights. You said they haven’t travelled much.’
‘No, they couldn’t afford it. A cruise sounds a good idea, I’ll suggest it. But as it could take ages for the legal
stuff to get sorted, I’d better tell Mum to hang fire for the moment.’
Once Charlotte had said goodbye she returned to her writing powered up by the phone calls and looking
forward to seeing Andy, trying not to think of their own unresolved issue. And as long as her mother’s blood test
results were good it wouldn’t be long before they were back together.
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chapter thirty-three
Charlotte paced up and down Gillian’s waiting room, a pretty little sitting room decorated in soft tones and
furnished with linen-covered sofas. Intriguing artefacts from around the world lined the shelves. It was a room
exuding calm and peace, but Charlotte was not seduced. She wanted to know what was happening in the
adjoining consulting room.
Finally she heard the sound of voices as the door opened and Gillian preceded her mother into the room. Her
smile said it all and she sagged with relief.
‘The tests look good, in fact better than I expected, and I’ve contacted La Folie about a room for Annette and
she can arrive on Sunday,’ Gillian said, standing between them. ‘I’ll be spending more time in Guernsey myself
while I wind down this practice. Malcolm wants me to be a consultant naturopathic doctor for the clinic.’
Charlotte’s eyebrows rose. ‘That’s good news, on both counts.’ She turned to her mother who, dressed
immaculately in Armani, looked as if she’d been invited for afternoon tea rather than to receive vital test results.
‘I’m so happy for you, Mother.’
Annette nodded, a brief smile touching her lips.
The women said their goodbyes and left. Charlotte’s heart was singing. Not only was the prognosis looking
better for her mother, but she could now plan her return to Guernsey. Annette was booked on an evening train
to Somerset, having refused Charlotte’s offer of a lift, saying she was quite capable of travelling on her own.
During the drive back to Bloomsbury, Charlotte said she would book her own flight for the next day and would
keep in touch when they were both in Guernsey. Her mother made no comment and for once Charlotte was glad
she showed a lack of interest in her life.
‘Did Gillian say whether or not your cancer can be…cured?’ she asked, tentatively.
A shadow crossed her mother’s face. ‘Hmm. No-one talks about a cure, only remission, particularly with liver
cancer. However, she’s having good results with other patients and thinks I have a good chance of long-term
remission myself. So in theory I could become cancer-free,’ she said, her voice wobbling.
‘Oh, Mother! I do hope so. I’m glad you’re at least giving yourself this chance to beat it,’ she said, gripping her
mother’s hand. Unusually, Annette did not shrug it off. Charlotte had to let go to steer the car, but for a moment
felt they were a little closer. With an inward sigh, she joined the line of traffic heading into central London.
Charlotte’s gaze swept over the waiting crowd and when her eyes caught those of Andy, her pulse raced as she
ran into his arms and kissed him.
‘Hey, have you missed me so much? It’s only been a few days,’ he said, laughing.
‘Seems longer. So much has happened this week…’ She clung onto his arm as he steered her outside to his car.
After stowing her case in the boot he took the driving seat, leaning over for a quick kiss before starting the
engine.
‘I’ve given myself the afternoon off, thinking we could go shopping after lunch.’
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Charlotte was puzzled. Andy, like many men, avoided shopping as much as possible.
‘Shopping? What for, groceries?’
‘No, silly. Don’t we need to choose something sparkly?’ he said, his eyes crinkled up in amusement.
‘Oh! A ring. I hadn’t expected you to buy it so soon.’ Her heart thumped with excitement at the thought and
she leant across and kissed him.
‘I take it that’s a yes?’ he said, pulling away from the kerb. She nodded in agreement and settled back in the
seat, looking forward to what promised to be a fabulous afternoon.
On Friday morning Andy left early to collect his father for their appointment with the advocate, leaving
Charlotte to catch up with her writing. In theory. In practice she gazed dreamily at her ring, which caught the
light while she attempted to type. Her first engagement ring, a traditional ruby and diamond, had been chosen
by her ex-husband and she had never liked it, whereas both she and Andy had fallen in love with this ring, a
pear-shaped emerald, surrounded by diamonds. Andy, saying the emeralds matched her eyes, had insisted on
buying her matching earrings. She was touched by his thoughtfulness and generosity and planned to buy him an
engagement present, once she had found something suitable. Giving up on her writing, she leant back in the
chair and found herself thinking about the previous evening.
Andy had cooked supper and afterwards they had cuddled up together on the sofa, drinking wine and
planning the future. Charlotte knew she had to say something, albeit belatedly, about the pretty important topic
of children. The conversation about where they were to live would have to wait.
‘Andy, we haven’t really discussed whether or not we want children. What…what are your thoughts? Do you
want children?’ she said, avoiding his gaze as the mass of butterflies once again filled her stomach.
He reached up and tilted her face towards him. ‘I’d always hoped to be a father one day, but I appreciate
neither of us are as young as we were. If you’re happy to try it’s fine by me. But if you’d rather not, that’s okay
too. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, darling, with or without children. Okay?’
The butterflies flew away and Charlotte smiled at her gorgeous, generous hearted man.
‘In which case, I’d like us to try for a baby, before we both become old and shrivelled.’
‘Great, from now on we can forget the, er, safety barrier and see what happens, shall we? And there’s no time
like the present,’ he said, putting their glasses of wine out of harm’s way. She laughed and began to unbutton his
shirt…
The memory of their passionate lovemaking brought a flush to her cheeks and Charlotte got up and went to
make a coffee. It was going to be difficult to concentrate on the antics of Lady Emma Hamilton today, she
thought, although there were similarities. She daydreamed instead about what it would be like to be a mother.
Scary – and wonderful. She was sure Andy would make a brilliant father and for a moment felt the loss of her
own. Her child – if she had one – would b
e deprived of a lovely grandfather and she would have loved her father
to be around to dote on it, as he had her.
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Twisting her ring around her finger, she thought of the potential grandparents she had yet to meet. Charlotte
thought they sounded lovely and she and Andy had agreed they would visit them together on Saturday with
their news. On Sunday she would introduce Andy to her mother, relieving them of the need for secrecy. Except
where the ‘other’ Batistes were concerned. She would go alone to Maud’s funeral and slip away unnoticed after
the service. Harold would find out soon enough who she really was.
~ ~
Andy was jubilant as he and his father left the advocate’s office, but his father looked pensive.
‘What’s the matter, Dad? I know he said it could take months to sort out the legal stuff, but at least he was
convinced your case is watertight and Harold should never have tried to bamboozle you the way he did. You and
Mum will be able to buy whatever you need,’ he said, glancing at his father’s frowning face.
Jim turned towards him, saying, ‘I’m not too sure about this DNA lark, son. If we do need to use one as proof,
how are we going to get Harold or Dave to agree? Don’t think I would, in their shoes.’
‘Oh, that’s what’s bothering you! I shouldn’t worry, Dave’s DNA will be on file thanks to his police record, and
once Harold’s arrested the police could take his DNA. In any event, the advocate was sure it wouldn’t come to it.
Trust me, Dad, it’ll be fine. Why don’t you and Mum start looking for a cruise, sometime next year? Do you good
to travel a bit,’ Andy said, opening the car door for Jim.
His father’s face lightened. ‘Well, if you think we could. I’ve always wanted to visit the Mediterranean
countries, somewhere warm for my old bones. I suppose we should be able to afford it.’
Andy, slipping into his seat, burst out laughing. ‘Afford it? Dad, the estate’s worth millions, and I’d guess