Just A Summer Romance

by Karen Abbott

  So, should she contrive to somehow return it to his hut without him knowing who had put it there? But, if he said nothing about it to her, she would forever wonder why not.

  She could take it to the police and let them ask the questions. But, they’d want to know who had been in her car … and that would take their enquiries straight to Xavier. She would feel she had betrayed him!

  She was startled to suddenly realise that all her thoughts were presuming the necklace to have come into Xavier’s hands dishonestly … and that her preoccupation with what to do about it was her desire to shield him from the consequences.

  The thought shocked her … but she didn’t try to deny it to herself. There was no other plausible explanation that she could think of! If it were his legally, he would have missed it by now and asked her about it … but he hadn’t done so!

  So, what was she to do?

  She should challenge him, however awkward it made things between them. But something made her hold back. Something about the necklace niggled at the back of her mind. It was of a heavy lace-work pattern, intricately linked together in loops and droplets. She had a sudden flashback memory of seeing it displayed against a black velvet background. But, where? Why?

  Who might know?

  She thought of one of her university friends, Robert Devreux. He might know. He had studied design in jewellery. He might recognise a drawing of the necklace.

  She carefully wrapped the necklace back into its parcel and took it into her room. She’d draw its design later. Meanwhile, she had some gardening to do!

  Surprisingly, she managed to push her concern of the diamond necklace to the back of her mind and, with her Grand-père sitting in a chair in the doorway of the cottage watching her at work, she spent two busy hours pulling out weeds, tying some tall hollyhocks to some small pegs in the wall and trimming back some shrubs that had made a take-over bid. It was back-breaking work and she was glad when Etienne suggested she stop and make them both a cool drink. She had tidied the plants around the well, leaving enough to make a charming natural display and she admired her handiwork as she drew a bucket of cool spring water out of its depths. There was a lot to do … but she felt equal to the task, especially now that Grand-père was beginning to take an interest. It would be wonderful to see him back on his feet and looking forward to the venture.

  Grand-père had compiled a list of likely small businesses that would be capable of doing the smaller jobs for them. He had written down at least two possible alternatives for each job.

  “Let them know there’s competition for them!” he told Lys. “Make them a bit keener to keep the price down!”

  Not one to sit around when she was eager to see the renovation work begin, as soon as she knew businesses would be reopened after the lunchtime break, Lys set off to speak to the proprietors in person. It was a tiring afternoon but at the end of it she had two businesses interested in each of the sections of work required. She stressed her eagerness to have the work completed and received promises from them all to make their assessments and tender their quotations as soon as possible.

  “Availability will count as much as price,” she warned them … and was pleased to hear the good opinion of her grandfather from the majority of them.

  “For Etienne Dupont we will make it yesterday!” one promised.

  Exultant with the success of her mission she returned to share the results with her grandfather.

  Etienne looked at the amended list, while Lys cooked a quick omelette for both of them, alternately pursing his lips and nodding his head.

  “Not bad, not bad,” he allowed. “Raymond will see us all right, there … and Daniel Peron needs a boost to his business. I’m sure he’ll give a reasonable quote and get down to it quickly.”

  He nodded in satisfaction. “You’ve done a good job, Lysette.”

  Lys was pleased with his praise but found herself dwelling more on her concern over the diamond necklace as they ate their meal.

  “You’re quiet, Lysette,” Grand-père commented. “You’ve worked hard today. Don’t you be worrying about all of this. Go and see what that artistic friend of yours is up to.”

  “Yes, I might do that,” Lys responded. She would confront Xavier with the necklace and give him a chance to explain what it was doing in her car. Relieved to have made that decision, she cleared away the remnants of their meal and went to change into shorts and vest top.

  She took the diamond necklace out of the bottom of her wardrobe and weighed the packet thoughtfully in her hand. She wouldn’t take it with her. You never knew who might be watching. She didn’t want to risk losing it or having it stolen. She pushed it into one of her shoes and put it back into the wardrobe. It should be safe there.

  It was early evening as she drove into Le Chateau and holidaymakers were thronging the streets, looking for evening entertainment. The cafés were busy, tables filling up both inside and out and drinkers at the local bars added the sound of their conversations to the general festive air. Music blared out of different establishments; families strolled along, probably waiting for the entertainment in the Square to begin. Lys had seen a poster promoting a conjuror and other acts that would start at seven o’clock.

  Lys turned towards the port and parked on the spare piece of land near the fishing huts. She could see Xavier sitting in the doorway of his studio-hut, swiftly sketching the portrait of a young lady. She paused on the fringe of the group around him, knowing that he was so intent on his work that she would remain unnoticed.

  She enjoyed watching him, admiring the swift, deft movements of his hands as he sketched and shaded, accurately recording the penetrating discernment of his eyes. She moved sideways around the group, until she could glance over his shoulder and see the emerging portrait. The basic features were being given life and character with each tiny stroke or light smudging of the pastel. It was an excellent likeness.

  The sitter’s friends were watching in admiration, whether at Xavier’s skill or his personal attributes, she was unable to decide. His bruises gave him a roguish air.

  Xavier lifted his sketchpad, lightly blew upon it and then reached under his stool for an aerosol can, the contents of which he sprayed across his drawing, fixing the soft pastel medium. He smiled at his model and handed it towards her. Lys could see her pleasure and the delight with which she showed the portrait to her friends.

  Xavier must have sensed her presence and he turned round, smiling a welcome.

  The warmth of his smile stirred Lys’s heart, temporarily relegating the reservations she had been nurturing to the recesses of her mind. She smiled back, aware that the next would-be model had taken her place upon the sitter’s stool.

  “I’ll look around the other studios,” she said lightly. “See you later.”

  Her thoughts kept returning to the diamond necklace as she sauntered in seeming carefree mood around the cluster of simple studios. She watched a young man doing portraits in watercolours; another deftly decorating ceramic artefacts; a young woman making semi-precious jewellery; a photographic studio; workers in fine lace and calligraphy. There was no end to the skills on show.

  Watching the calligrapher at work gave her the idea of having cards made to advertise the windmill museum and she spent a profitable half-hour discussing the matter with the young man, promising him an order when they were ready to advertise. When at length she returned to Xavier’s studio, she found he was still busily employed sketching portraits. He shrugged his shoulders slightly, his glance encompassing his waiting clients.

  Lys smiled with understanding. Knowing how important his work was, she didn’t want to distract him or make him think she was waiting impatiently.

  “I’ll wander down to the port for a while,” she mouthed, nodding her head in the right direction. “I like it down there.”

  She strolled past the restaurants, appreciating the breeze that blew against her face and slowly sauntered to the far end of the jetty. She sat down with her back agains
t the bollard, staring out across the inner waterway to Bourcefranc and Marennes on the mainland. The gentle rhythm of the lapping wavelets against the stone jetty was soothing and she found her anxieties about Xavier’s possible illegal possession of the necklace fading into an indistinct murmur. There would be a reasonable explanation, she was sure.

  Her mind wandered to their plans for the windmill and she leisurely explored various possibilities, some including Xavier’s participation in some measure. A slight sound behind her broke into her reverie and she turned to find the subject of her thoughts putting the finishing touches to his sketchpad.

  “I couldn’t resist,” he smiled. “I hope you don’t mind. I’ve been wanting to draw you since we met.”

  He held out the pad and she took it from his hand. The sketch was her profile, her expression serious yet musingly thoughtful. A tiny smile played at the corner of her mouth and she felt her cheeks redden as she wondered which of her thoughts had provoked it … and did Xavier guess?

  She thought of her decision to try to clarify the ownership of the necklace and scrambled to her feet in some confusion.

  “Very nice!” she complimented him a little more brusquely than she had intended. She handed the drawing back to him, wondering how to turn the conversation back to the mugging and destruction of his belongings.

  “Er … have you finished for the evening?” she asked diffidently.

  “Yes. I have done well today.”

  He patted his pocket. “Enough to treat us to some supper! Where do you recommend?”

  “Oh!” She didn’t want him to spend his well-earned money on her. “Shouldn’t you save it … buy some materials with it?”

  Xavier’s eyebrows rose slightly as he smiled in return.

  “I have put most of it on one side. This …” patting his pocket again, “… is to spend … to enjoy. I want to spend some money on you. What is the point of money if you can’t enjoy it?”

  Lys wondered how easily money ran through his fingers. Did he supplement his income by other ‘illicit’ means? Ashamed of her thoughts, she spoke quickly. “As long as you’re sure.” She gave a nervous laugh. “It’s none of my business, really, how you spend your money. I’ll … er … go halves with you!”

  Unaware of her inner turmoil, Xavier took hold of her hand. “Not tonight! Tonight I will pay! Tomorrow? Who knows? Now, where shall we go?”

  “One of the fish restaurants? I’ve eaten with Grand-père, so I’m not very hungry. We could share a plate of sea food, if you like.”

  They chose the restaurant called ‘L’Etoile de La Mer’, ‘The Star of the Sea’, and Xavier ordered the food and a bottle of wine. He had chosen an excellent bottle and Lys sipped it appreciatively.

  Not wanting to put a dampener on the evening, Lys decided to wait until later before she quizzed him and her initial nervousness was soon dispelled by Xavier’s ease of ‘small talk’ … helped, no doubt, by the wine.

  The waiter carried aloft a large platter of sea food to their table and placed it with a flourish on their table.

  “Bon appetite!” he wished them, as he withdrew.

  “Mmm, oysters! I love them,” Xavier murmured as glanced over the platter. He indicated to Lys that she take one. “Do you like them?” he asked as he loosened the muscle that held the delicacy in its shell.

  “I’ve never had one,” Lys admitted, eyeing them doubtfully. “When I came here as a child I never thought they looked very appetizing!”

  Xavier laughed. “Hush! You’ll get us thrown out! See! This is what you do … like this!”

  He held the shell to his lips between his thumb and second finger, tilted back his head and let the creamy-coloured creature slide down his throat.

  Lys felt her heart race as the visual effect aroused her senses. She swallowed hard. She had heard that oysters were regarded by many to be an aphrodisiac … but she hadn’t taken that to mean just the sight of someone swallowing one!

  “Your turn, now!” Xavier encouraged her.

  Lys grinned at him. “This had better be good!”

  “It will be!”

  She copied his action, aware that Xavier was closely watching her, and was surprised how good it felt. She reached out for another.

  “They could become addictive! I always thought they were expensive!”

  “In Paris, and around the world, they are! But this area specialises in them and provides over a third of the world trade. Here they are part of the staple diet … like the rest of this platter.”

  “We used to collect as many of these as we could,” Lys reminisced, looking at the clams and palourds; the cockles and mussels; periwinkles and others she had forgotten the names. “Then we would make a bed of large stones, put the shellfish on the stones and pile dry grass on top. Then we’d set fire to the grass and wait for the shells to open … then we would eat them. Maman was more fun in those days, when Papa was always around.” Her expression saddened. “I don’t know who changed first … whether it was Maman or Papa. Whoever it was, they drifted apart and Papa began to stay away longer each time he left. I sometimes felt Maman drove him away … but I don’t know.”

  Xavier reached out and laid his hand over hers.

  “People change, ma cherie. It is not always someone’s fault. It just happens. You will change. I will change. This island will change.”

  Lys managed to smile at that.

  “It hasn’t changed much in the past fifty years!”

  “But it is changing now. That’s why your idea of a museum of the history of the windmills will catch people’s interest. Tell me how you’re getting on. Has m. Boudot been around to see you?”

  “He has indeed!”

  Lys proceeded to tell him all that had happened since she had seen him last and time slipped away as they companionably ate and talked. After the bill had been paid and they emerged into the cool night air, she knew that she could put off asking about his knowledge of the necklace no longer.

  Xavier slid his arm around her waist and drew her close, gently kissing her. Lys responded, savouring the kiss, wishing she didn’t have to risk spoiling their growing friendship. It felt so right with him! Spirals of pleasure travelled though her body as the kiss deepened. It ended when they both needed to breathe and Lys was glad that it was Xavier who resumed their stroll back towards his studio.

  “Have you cleared all the debris away now?” Lys asked, tentatively steering the conversation towards the mugging. “Have you missed anything else that might have been stolen?”

  “Yes, to the first … and no to the second,” Xavier answered without pause.

  Was it too quickly, she wondered?

  “Nothing of value?” she pressed.

  “My paintings were of value!”

  “Yes … of course. I meant anything else?”

  “Such as?”

  Lys was suddenly wary. She wondered if she detected an edge to his voice. Did he suspect where her questions were leading?

  “Oh, I don’t know … your watch? A camera? Anything personal?” A diamond necklace, she added silently. “Whatever they were after!”

  Xavier was puzzled.

  “I told you … I don’t know what they were after! Maybe they didn’t know either? They were just trying it on. Hoping to make me give them something worthwhile.” He shrugged. “They took three of the best paintings I’ve ever done! But I don’t think that’s what they were after. It was a lucky hit!”

  Lys sensed the sincerity in his voice … but the necklace was real! She still couldn’t decide for sure whether he knew about it or not ... she needed to know more about it before she revealed her knowledge of it.

  Chapter Eight

  The next few days passed slowly for Lys.

  She sent her drawing of the diamond necklace to Robert Devreux, asking him to let her know what he thought of it, at the earliest opportunity. Although she felt impatient at the necessary delay, she didn’t want to photocopy her drawing and send it via the em
ail, as she would have to use the local Internet service at nearby Dolus. The less exposure it had to public scrutiny the better!

  She then turned her attention to the diamond necklace itself. Reluctant to have such an expensive item of jewellery lying around, she gave serious thought as to where she could keep it safely. A slow grin spread itself across her face as an idea came to her. Ideal!

  A quick visit to Le Chateau got her all the materials that she needed … and, before the day was out, the necklace was safely concealed. No-one would find it without her help.

  She kept herself busy tidying the rest of the land around the windmill. The hollyhocks and roses only needed room to grow and they would blossom! As would their plans for developing the living museum, she was sure.

  Buoyed by this anticipation, she should have been happy and contented … but her heart felt heavy and she knew it was because of her concerns about Xavier’s involvement in what might turn out to be an illegal operation. She didn’t make any move to contact him, preferring to distance herself from him until she knew more about the necklace. Her enquiries seemed like a betrayal of him … and that didn’t rest lightly on her shoulders.

  But, she missed him.

  Memories of his kisses made her long to see him again and she had to force herself to be strong to stay true to her resolve to stay away.

  As each day went by without any of the businesses sending their representatives along to do the job, her excitement at getting the promises of the estimates began to fade.

  “Why does no-one come?” she demanded of her grandfather for the twentieth time.

  “Give them time,” he tried to pacify her. “They have businesses to run. They can’t just drop everything for us.”

  “But they seemed eager to have our business,” she said dismally. “I thought they would be here straightaway.”

  On Wednesday, a phone call from Robert temporarily put their renovation plans on the backburner. A quick glance at her grandfather satisfied Lys that he was busy polishing the wooden model of the windmill’s mechanism that he had made for her years ago, and she slipped outside to take the call in private.