‘How awful for you,’ she murmured.
‘Not for me – for Maman.’ She was the one who’d been hurt. The one who’d suffered repeatedly at his indiscretions. ‘He was incapable of being faithful, and living in the public eye meant all his adventures were splashed across the papers. The shame, the humiliation – it never got any easier for her.’
Alex felt as angry for her as for himself. It was a double dose of hatred.
‘Did they divorce?’ Liberty asked.
‘You would think so, wouldn’t you?’ he said bitterly. ‘If they had, it might have been easier for her. She could have separated herself from it and moved on. But no, he refused.’
Liberty’s eyes widened and he saw the rainbow of fairy lights reflected in them. ‘Why?’
‘For selfish reasons, I guess. Maybe he liked the idea of a home and family to come back to when he felt like it. Or maybe he used it as an excuse to get rid of people when he grew tired of them. Who knows? But a divorce would have freed her.’
‘He was a racer, too, wasn’t he? So he travelled a lot with his job?’
He nodded.
She threw him a cautious look, as if she was picking her words carefully. ‘Do you think he was lonely, spending all that time away from home? Could that be why he had affairs?’
‘It’s no excuse,’ he snapped. ‘And, no, I don’t think so. He was away more than he needed to be.’ Much more. Alex saw in his mind the grainy paparazzi shots of his father in bars with women on his lap, or on yachts, near naked. Even through the prism of years gone by, he still felt the same disgust. How must it have felt for his mum to see those pictures?
Once Alex was old enough he used to hide them to protect her. But it wasn’t always possible. And once his father had retired from racing, the infidelity became so blatant that even the press lost interest. The bastard had kept several partners shacked up in various places across the world and treated life as one big holiday in the sun. He had no respect for those he hurt in the pursuit of his own pleasure.
‘Why do you think he was like that?’ asked Liberty.
‘I don’t know. He was so competitive he had to win at all costs. He was ruthless, he had … no heart.’ Alex paused. It had been a long time since he’d tried to understand his father. ‘He was raised in an orphanage and never knew his own parents. Perhaps that made him emotionally detached.’
‘Maybe he never knew how to love,’ Liberty suggested softly.
He waved away this suggestion. ‘We all know how to love.’
Liberty met his gaze steadily. ‘I’m not so sure. They say that cycles of behaviour repeat themselves through the generations. If he wasn’t loved growing up …’
He shook his head, refusing to accept this. Refusing to allow anything to excuse his father’s behaviour. He remembered how many times his mum had forgiven the man, how each time he came home she’d hoped that this would be the time he finally stayed and settled down.
He never did. And Alex would never forgive him for that.
Sunday, 28 December
‘I brought you breakfast in bed.’ Alex put down a tray. On it was a big cup of tea and a plate of waffles with syrup. He added, ‘I thought you might be missing your routine.’
Liberty’s heart did a little somersault. ‘Oh, Alex, that’s so thoughtful.’
‘Are you missing it?’
‘Erm …’ She realised she’d hardly thought about home since arriving here. She’d been so caught up in getting to know his family and visiting new places. Getting to know him better too, and … well, enjoying herself.
Before, she’d clung to her routine, but this trip had taught her that the unknown could be exciting, magical, wondrous. She was so happy. Her confidence had grown and now she couldn’t imagine going back to her old timid ways. ‘Actually, no. I’m not missing it at all. I love it here.’
‘I miss it,’ he said.
She blinked. ‘You do?’
He nodded. ‘I miss our walks in the woods, and helping in the garage.’
She wasn’t sure what to make of that, but told herself it had probably been a throwaway remark. ‘I do miss Charlie,’ she said. ‘In fact, I’ll call Evie now and check he’s okay.’
Evie picked up straight away and assured her Charlie was fine. ‘He and Smoke are getting on really well – except when Charlie eats Smoke’s food.’
Liberty giggled. ‘Ah, yes. Labradors are greedy.’
‘Oh, and we had an incident with a cocktail.’
‘An alcoholic cocktail?’
‘Yes. Jake’s sisters came to visit and he made drinks for them. His sister Louisa left hers on a coffee-table and Charlie came in, drank it, then walked into a door.’
‘Oh, no! Is he all right?’
Evie laughed. ‘He’s fine. And we’ve been really careful to keep everything out of his reach since. Did the quilt-show people call you?’
She’d lost track of the days and only remembered now that the festival started today. ‘No. Why?’
‘They rang me just now. Brenda’s quilt won in the Traditional Quilt category,’ Evie said excitedly.
Liberty gasped. ‘Oh, that’s amazing! She’ll be so thrilled.’
‘And yours came third in the Modern category.’
Her eyes widened. ‘That’s brilliant.’ But Brenda’s news was what mattered most. It made it all worth it: this trip, the flight. Everything.
‘So how’s it going over there?’ Evie asked.
Liberty smoothed the quilt and glowed as she thought of how she’d slept curled up in Alex’s arms last night. It was such a tiny thing, yet it had felt so … right. ‘It’s wonderful.’
‘Good.’ She heard the smile in Evie’s voice. ‘Do you know when you’ll be back?’
‘I’m not sure yet. In the new year.’
‘Well, don’t rush on our account. The shop’s staying closed for now and Charlie’s happy.’
‘Thanks, Evie.’
The garage was quiet, apart from the sound of sandpapering as Alex rubbed away a patch of rust above the wheel arch. Bernard had the bonnet open and was leaning over the engine of the old car. As they worked in companionable silence, Alex found it ironic that he had more in common with his stepfather-to-be than he’d ever had with his real father. Actually, that wasn’t true. He and his dad could have shared a huge amount – racing, bikes – but his dad had chosen not to spend time with him discussing or sharing these experiences.
Bernard rubbed his lower back as he straightened up. ‘When are you planning to announce your retirement publicly?’ he asked.
Alex paused from his task. ‘There’s a press release going out in the next couple of days.’
‘Maybe this could be a new career for you.’ Bernard waved a hand to indicate the car and the repairs they were carrying out.
‘It’s just a hobby,’ Alex said. ‘I’m not a trained mechanic.’
‘You could be.’
He considered this. ‘I suppose.’
‘You clearly enjoy it.’ Bernard wiped his screwdriver on a rag. ‘You know, it’s unlikely you’ll find another career that can give you the same things racing did. What you need to do is look for an occupation that you enjoy, that you can see yourself doing for the next few years.’
Alex gave this some thought. There was some wisdom in Bernard’s words. Perhaps he’d been searching for the impossible. Nothing could ever match racing. He’d always tinkered with his own bikes, finding ways to adapt them to suit him better or improve their performance. ‘While I was in England I helped out in the local garage, did some work on an old Triumph. She was even older than that one.’ He nodded at his old Yamaha in the corner. ‘And it turned out to be a good way of meeting people and chatting – you know, because I was trying to get information about my half-sister.’
There was a long pause. ‘You said you didn’t have much luck with that.’
‘No. I can’t decide whether to stop searching or hire a private investigator.’
Bernard looked at him. ‘Perhaps you should stop.’
Alex glanced up. Bernard’s mouth was flat. Why? ‘Someone came into the garage and told me she remembered a woman called Mary who went out with him. Trouble is, she didn’t know her surname.’
Another long silence followed before Bernard asked, ‘Have you really thought about what will happen if you find her?’
‘Yes, of course.’ He frowned, puzzled by the question.
‘What about your mother? It could be difficult for her if you do find this girl – and her mother. Babette would do all she could to welcome the girl into the family but …’ He tipped his head, as if the rest should be obvious.
Alex stared at Bernard with a growing sense of dismay. ‘It would be a painful reminder,’ he said, as understanding dawned.
His father’s betrayals had been many.
‘Yes,’ said Bernard. His gaze met and held Alex’s.
Alex swallowed, appalled with himself. How had he not thought of this before? He’d been so wrapped up in his own problems, he’d raced off to England convinced he was doing an honourable thing – not pausing to think about how she would feel. Of course his mum would find it difficult. He was ashamed he’d behaved so thoughtlessly.
‘Maybe you could be happy with the family you already have,’ Bernard suggested. ‘Your brothers and Babette, they all love and need you.’ He picked up the spanner and leaned into the engine again.
Monday, 29 December
The road was narrow and winding. It was edged by a low wall, a foot or so high to Liberty’s right, then there was nothing. Just a steep drop, hundreds of feet down to the bottom of the hill. Terrified, she sat rigid and gripped her seat, trying not to look at the vertical slope, which seemed only inches away from her.
Alex wanted her to visit a hilltop village, which he said dated back to medieval times and had fabulous views. She’d been keen to visit too, but now they were halfway up she’d changed her mind.
‘You’re very quiet,’ said Alex as he steered the car round another bend at triple the speed she would have felt comfortable with.
‘I’m scared.’ She had to force the words out because she could hardly breathe.
He glanced at her, smiling. ‘What are you scared of?’
‘Don’t look at me! Keep your eyes on the road!’ she blurted. ‘I’m scared of plunging to my death because this road is too narrow and you’re going too fast.’ She could picture their car tumbling and rolling down the hill.
He laughed. ‘Trust me, Liberty. I’m in complete control of this car.’
‘How can you say that?’
‘I’m used to driving at speed, remember? Anyway, I’m really not going fast.’
‘What if the brakes fail? What if a car comes the other way? You won’t have time to –’, she gasped as he rounded another blind bend, ‘– react.’
‘I will.’ He was so confident, so certain.
As if on cue, a beaten-up van appeared in the opposite direction. It came hurtling towards them, taking up more than its fair share of the road and leaving no room to pass.
‘He’s on our side of the road!’ she gasped, and covered her eyes. ‘There isn’t going to be room. He’s going to—’
‘It’s fine,’ said Alex, and slowed.
She peeped from between her fingers. The passenger in the van waved as they passed, and Alex held a hand up in greeting too. She couldn’t believe it. Was everyone oblivious to the possible dangers except her?
‘See?’ said Alex, when the van had gone.
‘You might be in control but they weren’t. This road is so dangerous!’ Liberty’s pulse drilled furiously in her temples. She wasn’t sure her blood pressure could cope with this.
Alex accelerated away again.
She sneaked a glance at him and noticed he was smiling. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’ she said, appalled.
He shrugged, still smiling. ‘It’s a challenging drive, yes. But I’m not enjoying seeing you so scared, if that’s what you mean. You’re a very nervous passenger.’
‘We’re so different, you and me,’ she muttered, under her breath, and tried to keep quiet. But she couldn’t uncurl her fist, which was clenched around the door handle.
‘Would you rather drive?’ he asked.
‘Yes!’ Anything would be better than being frightened and powerless like this in the passenger seat. ‘But there isn’t room to stop.’
‘There’s a viewing point coming up soon.’
‘How do you know?’
‘We used to come here when we were kids.’ He turned a couple more corners. ‘There it is.’
He pulled over and stopped the car. She breathed a sigh of relief and jumped out, glad to feel solid ground beneath her feet.
But when she got into the driver’s seat, she had second thoughts. She could handle the gear stick being on the wrong side, but how would she know if she was too far to the edge of the road? ‘Actually, I’m a bit scared.’
‘Just take it slow and you’ll be fine.’ He winked. ‘I’ll let you know if you get too close to the edge. Will it count for today’s challenge?’
‘Definitely!’
Five minutes later, she glanced in her mirror at the string of cars behind her and bit her lip. This was harder than it looked. One of the drivers hooted, making her jump. ‘I can’t go any faster!’ she said, feeling sick at the thought of the steep drop.
‘Ignore them,’ said Alex. ‘You’re doing fine. Locals are always impatient.’
He turned round and pointed the phone behind him. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
‘Just filming the view for Luc.’ She heard the smile in his voice and knew he’d caught on film the line of cars. Luc would be rolling on the floor with laughter when he saw this.
‘I can’t believe I did that!’ Now she was safely out of the car and off that terrible ravine-sided road, Liberty was high on a rush of relief and pride.
‘I know. A whole journey in second gear is a record,’ he teased.
She stuck her tongue out at him, then grinned again. ‘It was terrifying but I did it! I got us here in one piece.’
‘Why do you sound so surprised?’ asked Alex as he tore off a piece of bread and ate it.
They were seated on the terrace of a restaurant with stunning views of the countryside. From this height the vines were seams in the fields that stretched away into the distance. The sun was shining and the sky was denim blue with not even a smudge of cloud. And behind them loomed the ruins of an ancient château, accessible via tiny cobbled lanes that could have sprung from the pages of a story book. It was a beautiful magical place and she felt on top of the world. Quite literally.
She took a sip of her drink. ‘Because a month ago I wouldn’t even have dared try. Now I feel – I could be anything I want to be.’
‘Of course you could.’
‘I’m so happy.’ Her heart felt like it might burst.
He smiled. She loved how he understood her fears and, although he didn’t share them – far from it – was patient with her. She loved how calm he was behind the wheel and how talented (even if driving at speed wasn’t a skill she particularly admired or encouraged). She loved his confidence, his energy, his willingness to take risks and embrace danger full on. She loved the person she was with him. She loved him.
Her hand stilled, the glass of water midway to her lips. She loved him?
How had that happened? He wasn’t her Dream Guy. He was so far from it, why had her brain locked on to him?
It hadn’t. Her heart had.
And she realised she’d loved spending the last few days with him. She didn’t want their time together to end. The thought made her head spin.
He leaned back in his chair. ‘When this trip is over and we say goodbye, I hope you’ll remember this: that you can be anything you want.’
And just like that her spirits fell.
She’d been thinking how much she loved him; he was thinking of when they’d part
ways. She looked away, swallowing hard.
‘Lib? You’ve gone pale. What—’
‘I’m just going to the loo,’ she said quickly, and pushed her chair back.
In the marble-tiled Ladies, she stared at her reflection. ‘You stupid, stupid girl. How could you? How could you fall in love with him when you knew – you knew he would never love you back?’
Her hand shook as she pushed a strand of hair off her face, and her mouth was drier than it had been on the winding road to get there. When she’d arrived in France she’d been on a high. She’d overcome her fear of flying; she’d made the journey alone to a beautiful French village and delivered her friends’ quilts in time; she’d been all set to spend Christmas alone in a foreign place. She’d felt she was capable of anything, brave enough to face a bear if necessary; more than brave enough to sleep with Alex, despite all she knew about him.
But now the high had worn off, she’d come back down to reality – and she was scared. How arrogant she’d been to think she was in control. She should have known better. She should have stayed away from Alex Ricard.
Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Fear and anger gave way to something gentler.
Perhaps love wasn’t something anyone had the power to prevent. After all, it had crept up on her slowly, hadn’t it? Like tiny neat quilting stitches, appearing three at a time, almost imperceptible yet doing their work of slowly but surely binding her heart to his.
She loved him. She couldn’t change that.
She could only hope he might, in time, come to love her too.
Chapter Twenty-three
‘You didn’t mind spending Christmas here in Provence?’ his mum asked, as Alex helped her strip the beds. She folded the quilt and laid it on a chair.
His brothers had left, returning home for the new-year celebrations. Alex and Liberty would also be leaving tomorrow, heading to the coast for a surprise he hadn’t yet told her about, but he planned to return in the new year. They hadn’t really discussed it and Liberty hadn’t yet booked her flight home, but he hoped she’d stay for the classic bikes race at Le Castellet.
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