Best Laid Plans

by Patricia Fawcett

  The two of them seemed cheerful enough when they came back into the room with Amy going to sit beside Brian who was in the middle of an animated discussion about art with Monique. She wished Amy would not make it quite so obvious that she disliked her sister-in-law although dislike was perhaps too strong a word; Monique was just too far away from Amy on the personality shelf and nothing would ever change that.

  After Mike and Monique had gone home, setting out in that splendid magical white night-light that comes with snow, she returned to the sitting room resigned to spending some time alone with Amy and Brian even though she was by now very tired. However, Mike and Monique’s departure had been the signal for a general dispersal with Frank, rather sweetly, providing everybody with a bedtime hot chocolate, so any further conversation was curtailed.

  Just like the smallest child on this special night, she slept fitfully, hearing Amy moving around downstairs and the murmur of voices sometime around two o’clock but wisely deciding not to investigate further.

  ‘What do you think of him?’ she asked Frank now, glancing at her watch, for if everything was to be ready in time for Christmas lunch she had to keep to the schedule pinned on the kitchen notice board.

  ‘Not sure,’ he said, sitting up in bed, fussing with pillows and so on before turning his attention back to her. ‘Can you believe this? He says he never gives tips. He doesn’t believe in them, apparently. I ask you. Where would our lads be without their tips?’

  ‘That’s not the end of the world. I sometimes think we’re far too quick to give them and being careful with money is no bad thing. In fact it’s to be recommended.’

  ‘He drives a brand new Merc.’

  ‘Good for him. So he can keep Amy in the way she is accustomed?’ she said tartly. ‘You needn’t worry about that. I don’t believe it’s serious for a minute.’

  ‘That’s what she says. What do you make of him?’

  Going to sit on the bed, still in her dressing gown, she pondered the question.

  ‘I’m not that keen,’ she admitted at last. ‘Can’t put my finger on it but I don’t think he’s the man for her. They don’t look comfortable together, not in the way that Mike and Monique do or you and me for that matter,’ she added as an afterthought but not before she caught his amused look. ‘I know she says she’s never getting married but a woman can suddenly change her mind. I do hope she’s not getting desperate, clutching at straws because at her age there aren’t a lot of men available, not without a load of baggage, anyway. I don’t even know if he’s been married before or if there are children in the equation. Has she asked him? He seems to keep everything very close to his chest. I’ll try and wheedle something out of him.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bother. He’ll be out of her life soon, I think I can guarantee that. Don’t spoil today.’

  She had no intention of spoiling the day although as it turned out Frank himself would spoil it big time.

  If Christine had half expected an announcement of the impending baby sometime during the day it never happened. The other announcement when it came was totally unexpected. Over Christmas lunch they wore the silly hats, Brian entering into the spirit of things as they laughed over the awful cracker jokes. It was another family tradition that she bought the cheapest Christmas crackers she could find just for the sheer joy of tipping out the contents and seeing whose was the most ridiculous.

  As they relaxed over coffee and mince pies, she saw Monique and Mike exchange a glance and her heart lifted for she had anticipated this and thought she knew what was coming. She was very nearly ready to get out the champagne glasses but stopped dead as Mike gave a little cough and spoke. She knew immediately from his expression that whatever it was there was not a baby in the offing.

  ‘We have something to tell you,’ he said sharing a quick glance with Monique. ‘Haven’t we, darling?’

  ‘What?’ A silence had fallen and it was a full minute – a long minute’s silence – before Mike spoke again.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum, but we have to tell you something that we know you’re not going to like but we do hope you’re going to be happy for us and as for you, Dad …’ he looked at his father, who looked every bit as puzzled as Christine. ‘Well, it’s going to be a big shock and I’m sorry for that but it’s something we’ve thought about very seriously and it’s something we want to try. We have this fantastic opportunity and we can’t let it slip.’

  ‘Opportunity?’ Her mouth felt dry and for a moment she felt annoyed with Mike for breaking private family news when a stranger was present, for she was not sure what her reaction would be. If things became strained, if an argument erupted, then the last thing she wanted was for Brian to witness it. He was not part of this family and she suspected and hoped he never would be. ‘What sort of opportunity?’ she continued, aware her voice had cooled. She felt chilly, in fact, because her Christmas dress was not very warm and wearing a cardigan or shrug over it. even a lovely cashmere one would ruin the effect. Now, as they all fell silent, she could not imagine what he was about to say and wanted to urge him to spit it out, whatever it was, and not keep them in suspense a moment longer.

  ‘We’ve had a bit of luck. Monique’s Aunt Sylvie has given us this cottage in France,’ he said, taking a deep breath and allowing it to sink in. ‘Monique’s mother inherited it way back but never lived there and now she’s left it to Sylvie in her will but Sylvie wants us to have it.’

  ‘France?’ She glanced at Frank for support as she tried to grasp it. ‘Whereabouts in France?’

  ‘It’s in Normandy.’ Monique explained with a nervous smile, reaching for her husband’s hand. ‘It’s near Honfleur. Do you know Honfleur? It will be fantastic for my painting,’ she went on, eyes shining. ‘Did you know that there is a special light like there is in St Ives? It will be such an inspiration for me.’

  ‘I’ve heard that artists love it there,’ Brian butted in.

  ‘Exactly.’ She looked at him gratefully. ‘I might even carry on with the landscapes and seascapes. I can set up by the harbour there and—’

  ‘Hang on a minute. Has your mother died?’ Christine interrupted, waiting for the imperceptible nod. ‘For goodness’ sake, Monique, you might have told me.’

  ‘She didn’t want to tell anybody,’ Mike said. ‘It was her way of dealing with it, Mum.’

  ‘I could have helped,’ she said deeply hurt that Monique had felt unable to confide in her. For heaven’s sake what hadn’t she done to help this girl? She dreaded to think what the little hand-outs amounted to over the years – it wasn’t something she had discussed with Frank. It was a little mother/daughter thing except that she had never ever given Amy, her real daughter, any financial help whatsoever.

  Monique looked especially lovely today; for a change there was colour in her cheeks and her hair was pulled back into a high swinging ponytail. ‘It’s not going to be so difficult to get there. You can get the ferry over to one of the Channel ports or you could use the tunnel and drive down. I’ve got a picture of the cottage in my bag.’

  ‘I don’t want to see a picture of it,’ Christine could not stop the childish remark and instantly regretted it. Amy, however, reached over and took the photograph from Monique saying nothing but handing it over immediately for Brian to look at. From their expressions it would seem that they were impressed by what they saw.

  ‘Are you telling us that you are moving there?’ Christine was trying to keep her voice steady. ‘Is that it?’

  ‘Well, yes, of course we are when we can get things organized.’ Mike said, watching them all carefully, his manner strangely defiant.

  ‘So you’ll be handing in your notice?’ Frank’s voice was nowhere near as firm as usual and she was furious suddenly, for in his condition he shouldn’t be dealt shocks like this. ‘This is all very sudden. You might have informed me earlier, Mike.’

  ‘I’m informing you now, Dad.’ Mike’s voice was low and determined. ‘I will, of course, not leave immediately. I i
ntend to work out a proper notice,’ he added stiffly. ‘And don’t pretend it’s going to matter either way. You know I’ve never liked the job. You’ve never thought me up to it.’

  There was a sharp intake of breath from Frank. ‘That’s not true,’ he said firing a quick glance at Christine.

  ‘What will you do there?’ she asked her son, choosing not to look at Monique. ‘It might sound wonderful like some extended holiday but it’s not very practical, is it? You’ll have to earn a living somehow.’

  ‘Exactly. You might not have much money coming in from Monique’s paintings,’ Frank said. It was a statement of fact and he was being remarkably calm even though Christine knew he had been dealt a serious below-the-belt blow.

  ‘Aunt Sylvie has found Mike a job already in one of her ex-husband’s restaurants,’ Monique said, eyes flashing as she glanced sharply at her father-in-law. ‘She’s on good terms with both her exes.’

  ‘Good for her.’ Amy seemed amused by all this, returning the photograph to Monique.

  ‘But Mike doesn’t speak French? Neither of you speaks French,’ Christine said helplessly, clutching at straws to find a negative in all this.

  ‘We’ll soon pick it up and they all speak English anyway,’ Monique said with a Gallic shrug, practising, no doubt, for when she was back in her native country.

  ‘That’s lucky,’ Christine said, sarcasm to the fore. ‘But if I were you I wouldn’t be in a rush to sell your house until you see if it works out.’

  It sounded a half-baked idea to her and she suddenly resented this marvellous-sounding Aunt Sylvie, who seemed to have it all worked out.

  ‘We’re not fools. We’ve thought about this a lot.’ Monique was defensive, looking at Mike for support. ‘Aunt Sylvie feels guilty that my mother left me nothing and she is more than happy to help us out financially until we can get things sorted out. She’s done very well out of her marriages. She was married to Henri-Jacques Gaillon, you know.’

  None of them had heard of him but it turned out he was a renowned chef specializing in fish dishes and with more than enough restaurants scattered around the Normandy and Brittany coasts.

  You could cut the atmosphere now with a knife and Christine could not think of anything to say. The most glaring thing uppermost in her mind was the ungratefulness of it all and now that Monique had somebody else to fund her expensive tastes she was no longer needed. She was annoyed with herself for feeling this way, for she had never once begrudged any of the money or gifts she had given her daughter-in-law but it felt, rightly or wrongly, that she was being kicked in the teeth for her generosity.

  First and foremost, though, she was a good hostess and drawing on all her reserves she pulled herself together. She would get through this gracefully if it killed her.

  ‘Congratulations!’ she said, hearing her voice from afar.

  ‘Absolutely. Well done, you two. How wonderful to be given a cottage in France,’ Amy said, shooting a warning glance at her mother before getting up and spinning round to look at them all. ‘Isn’t that fabulous news? I wish you all the best with it and I’ll be the first to visit. Let’s drink a toast.’

  ‘Thank you, Amy.’ Monique smiled uncertainly. ‘We would love to have you visit, when we get things sorted a bit, of course. We have to find it first of all. My aunt hasn’t seen it for years either but it’s being looked after for her.’

  Christine dare not look at Frank.

  ‘Yes, let’s drink a toast,’ she said. Her world had just fallen to pieces, the vision of her little baby grandchild disappearing fast but she was determined to see it through with some grace. It was Christmas Day for heaven’s sake and she was not going to allow this to spoil it. ‘I’ll fetch another bottle of wine.’

  ‘Make it champagne,’ Frank said, recovering, too. ‘It’s not every day we get news like this.’

  Chapter Nine

  Christine needed to get out of the house. Trying to keep calm, trying to take it in, she suggested a walk through the village and up the hill. She was trying her best to be sensible and to understand that the move to France to live in the cottage Monique had been gifted could only be good news for the young couple. They would put the house on River Terrace up for sale and provided they could sell in today’s tough market they might make a small profit from that. As for Mike, she wondered how he would cope in a country where he couldn’t speak the language but he seemed excited by the prospect and it would give him the chance to show his father that he was capable of doing something with his life. Mike was not the impulsive type, though, and she wondered how much this whole thing was being driven by Monique. She was beginning to realize that there might be more to Monique than the shy, butter-wouldn’t-melt look suggested.

  Although she wanted to exit the room and be on her own a while once the news was out, she had no choice with Brian being present but to stay put and look as if she was pleased. She finally relented and asked to see the photograph of the cottage. It looked lovely with its half-timbered façade. It had a brown-tiled roof and reminded her of a gingerbread house sitting there in a pretty little garden full of flowers with a wooden gate and a narrow path leading to the door and the shuttered windows. This whole concept was a touch too fairy tale-like for her but trying to make sense of it she realized that if she and Frank had been given a similar opportunity when they were young they would surely have jumped at it. Although, on second thoughts, would Frank ever have dared walk away from the business?

  Oh goodness, it was all much too complicated. It was Christmas Day and she was in no mood for this. With a smile, she excused herself for a moment and swiftly went upstairs to her room, sat down on the bed and tried to compose herself. She felt close to tears but that would help nobody. With a supreme effort she pulled herself together and changed out of her dress into something more casual before returning to the fray.

  ‘Let’s have a walk. Who’s coming with me?’

  ‘A walk?’ Frank looked at her as if she had suggested they take a trip to the moon. They used to take long walks once upon a time but lately they never seemed to fit them in, even though he was supposed to take regular and frequent exercise.

  ‘I’ll come with you, Mum,’ Mike said, looking relieved at the way she had taken the news, unable to see through the part she was playing of the delighted-for-you mother and imagine for one second that she might not be genuinely thrilled about it all.

  ‘I’ll come, too,’ Amy said, smiling sympathetically and for her part seeing through her completely.

  ‘Oh, all right then, I can see I’m outnumbered,’ Frank said, cheerfully enough. ‘I’m in.’

  ‘Would you mind if I didn’t join you?’ Brian, who had sat quietly through the family drama, spoke up now. ‘I need to make a few phone calls and use my lap-top.’

  ‘Not business, surely?’ Christine said for Amy had told her he had no family to speak of so who could he be ringing?

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ he said with an apologetic grimace.

  ‘I think I’ll stay put too.’ Monique had excelled herself today, dressed in festive scarlet like Christine although Monique’s ankle-length velour concoction was much more striking. ‘I just want to curl up here.’

  Here was the large comfortable sofa in front of the log fire and indeed it was tempting just to sit in the warm and guzzle chocolates and nuts but Christine knew she would feel heaps better and invigorated if she had a brisk walk.

  Getting everybody organized and into suitable attire for the trip outdoors was every bit as bad as it used to be when they were kids but at last they were ready, just the four of them, Frank surprisingly upbeat as they set out. It felt like old times especially as they would be doing the very same walk they had done for years when the children were small. The children had grumbled then about going out for a walk on Christmas Day afternoon unless there was a dolly’s pram or a new bike to try out. Seeing her grown-up children setting out ahead of them, Christine sighed, the memory of earlier happier times hitting her
hard.

  ‘Bit of a facer, all this,’ Frank said, taking her gloved hand and giving it a squeeze. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Not really,’ she sighed, though pleased at the unexpected concern. ‘It wasn’t quite what I was expecting.’

  ‘It’s saved me a lot of bother,’ he went on. ‘Having him resign means I don’t have to ask him to leave. And say what you will, Christine, we were going to have to face up to that sooner or later before he buggered things up completely.’

  ‘You’ve never given him a chance.’

  ‘Oh come on, I’ve given him every chance. He’s just not up to it.’

  ‘We can’t force either of them to go into the business if they don’t want to. And I wouldn’t want to lumber either of them just now with something that’s going to fail.’

  ‘It is not going to fail. What put that idea into your head? We’ve got a good little business going. It’s not like you to be pessimistic.’ His exasperation spilled over and he let go of her hand abruptly. ‘We will get through it. It’s just a blip.’

  She was not going to spoil it by reminding him that she had put a hefty chunk of cash into the business recently to tide them over and that this was potentially much more than a blip unless they did something drastic. There were many more removal firms these days in this area so they had to be competitive. They needed to drum up trade but the next few months were the quiet months in the domestic market so it was going to be extra hard. There was no point in worrying him more than he was already but even as she tried to think of some encouraging words he forged ahead to catch up with the children. As he moved forward Amy dropped back and waited for her to catch up.