Life's a Beach and Then... (The Liberty Sands Trilogy Book 1)

by Roberts, Julia

  ‘I went,’ chimed in Harry. ‘It’s a lovely village. How long have you lived here?’

  ‘I was brought up here,’ said Rosemary, pride creeping into her voice. ‘We’ve won best-kept Surrey Downs village many times.’

  ‘Was this your family home?’

  ‘No, we had a much smaller house on Station Road but when my parents died we were able to afford this place, which Robert then set about rebuilding.’

  ‘He’s done an awesome job,’ Harry said. ‘Exactly what I would have done.’

  Three pairs of eyes turned in Harry’s direction, each face registering amusement.

  ‘What did I say?’ he asked.

  ‘It just sounded funny,’ Holly said. ‘The apprentice complimenting the master by saying it is what he would have done.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that, Robert. I hope you don’t think I’m a smartarse who thinks he knows everything and isn’t willing to listen to the voice of experience?’

  A smile was playing at the corner of Robert’s mouth. ‘I can see I’m going to have to watch my back with you around, Harry. You’ll be stealing all my contracts when they see your fresh young ideas.’

  Then he started to laugh, a sight which warmed Rosemary to the core.

  Holly was reflecting on Robert’s words: ‘with you around’. Did that mean he would be willing to give Harry a helping hand to get started? Despite her own devastation at what she still considered was a betrayal of trust from Philippe she joined in with the laughter.

  The vegetable soup was a success with Robert and Harry having a second helping. Even Rosemary managed to finish the small bowl Holly had put in front of her.

  Throughout lunch the older trio had been chatting about the exotic locations they had been fortunate to visit as a result of their respective occupations.

  ‘You are making me feel left out,’ said Harry at one point.

  ‘You’ve got a lifetime ahead of you, Harry,’ said Rosemary. ‘What you do with it is your choice but, whatever you choose, live each day as if it’s your last and then you will have no regrets. Life is not a race it’s a journey with all its twists and turns,’ she said, laying her hand gently on Robert’s. ‘Speaking of journeys, Professor Lang was pleased that I am feeling better and has given me the all clear to go on our little road trip.’

  Holly didn’t want to say too much in front of Harry so she asked him to clear the table and do the dishes. Robert sensed that the two women wanted to chat without Harry around so he offered to help and then whisked him off to his office again to chat about other projects he had in the pipeline.

  Holly helped Rosemary to the sofa and lifted her feet up onto the footstool and then settled into the depths of an armchair opposite her.

  ‘I am so pleased that it was good news at the hospital this morning,’ Holly said. ‘Does that mean we can postpone the trip to Switzerland for a while?’

  ‘On the contrary, I was hoping that maybe we could bring it forward to this weekend if you’re not doing anything else,’ Rosemary said.

  ‘But why would you want to bring it forward if the new drugs seem to be working? Shouldn’t you give them a proper chance?’

  ‘They’re not working, Holly.’

  ‘How do you know? You told the professor you were feeling better.’

  ‘And that was true in part. I have felt better for having you here, and better for meeting your lovely boy, but physically it is a battle to pretend I’m all right so that Robert doesn’t get too upset. My head is aching for most of my waking hours and my bones hurt. I don’t need the results of the latest tests to tell me that I am past the point of no return.’

  Holly was trembling as she realised the enormous effort Rosemary was going to each day to protect her husband, an effort that was fuelled by love.

  ‘My biggest fear is that once they know the drugs aren’t working they will incarcerate me in a hospital room and fill me full of painkillers to die a lingering death possibly all alone. Robert wouldn’t be able to be with me all day, every day, and I could just slip away while he was sleeping or taking a loo break. I think it would break him if he wasn’t there at the end with me. I can’t let that happen, Holly. My father died of a broken heart. I don’t want that to be Robert’s fate. You do understand don’t you?’

  Holly did understand. Night after night, that had turned into week after week and month after month, she had had nightmares about her dad dying alone in the wreck of his car. If I could have just held his hand at the end, she thought. If he had just had someone with him. The pain, anguish, and of course the terrible guilt, would still have been there but Holly was sure she would have come to terms with it sooner if she had just been able to say her goodbyes.

  ‘Holly?’

  ‘Yes... I understand. I think you are the most amazing, courageous woman I have ever met. I wish I could have known you longer.’

  She moved from the chair to the sofa and the two women hugged each other, both battling to keep the tears at bay.

  Holly whispered into Rosemary’s shoulder, ‘I love you like I should have been able to love my mother. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to know what it feels like.’

  ‘I love you too, Holly, you’re a very special girl.’

  After a few minutes Rosemary pulled away from the embrace. ‘So will this weekend be all right for you to travel?’

  Holly nodded. ‘Yes. Harry has to go back to uni first thing in the morning as he has a lecture tomorrow afternoon. Do you want me to make the ferry booking?’

  ‘It would help if you could. I need to ring the clinic to bring the dates forward by a couple of days and I can do that when Robert goes out to the shops later but he doesn’t like to be away from me for long.’

  ‘Do you want Dover to Calais and what time should I book?’

  ‘The earlier the better for me Holly as I don’t sleep much anyway, but what about you? Will you be well enough to travel in the early morning?’

  Holly hadn’t been sure if Rosemary knew about her vomiting episode that morning, but clearly she did. It was still an odd question to ask though, unless... surely Rosemary wasn’t hinting that she thought Holly may be pregnant? Suddenly Holly thought back to the nausea she had experienced in Dubai the previous week. She had thought it was a bug, but what if Rosemary was right? She tried to remember the last time she had a period but realised it was months ago as the constant travelling to different time zones seemed to reek havoc on her body clock.

  ‘Oh my God, do you think I’m pregnant?’

  ‘Is it a possibility?’

  Holly nodded slowly, the colour draining from her face. Of course she would have to do a pregnancy test but Holly already felt certain that she was carrying Philippe’s baby.

  ‘I don’t suppose Philippe has tried to contact me through you and Robert, has he?’ she whispered.

  ‘No, I’m sorry, Holly. We’ve heard nothing from him since we left Mauritius.’

  Chapter 62

  Philippe was drifting in and out of consciousness, occasionally hearing voices he thought he recognised and odd words of whispered conversation. He was aware of people entering and leaving his room but he couldn’t turn his head to see who it was, and anyway it required a tremendous effort to open his eyes. He had tried to speak but his mouth was dry and his mumbling was enclosed by the oxygen mask that covered his mouth and nose.

  Someone was speaking his name. It was coming from the end of a long tunnel. He tried to say ‘Holly’ but drifted back into unconsciousness with the word still forming on his lips.

  Delphine noticed the slight movement of his mouth and leaned forward to try and catch what he said but she was too late. She crossed to the door and called to the nurse, ‘I think he was trying to say something.’

  The nurse raised her head from the report she was filling in for the doctor. ‘Did he open his eyes?’ she asked.

  ‘No, it was just a small movement opening his mouth but now he seems to be sleeping again.’


  ‘Why don’t you take a break,’ the nurse said kindly. ‘You’ve been sitting at his bedside for hours. I’ll stay with him a while if you like. Has he no other friends or relatives who could share the vigil with you? You look exhausted.’

  Delphine looked over to the still form of Philippe laying on his hospital bed with tubes and wires connecting him to the life-saving machines. She had sat with him for the last thirty-six hours, sometimes dozing in her chair, only leaving him to get herself water or to use the toilet. She hadn’t eaten, despite encouragement from the various nurses who had come and gone as their shifts dictated, and she realized that she was now feeling ravenous.

  ‘That would be wonderful if you’re not too busy,’ Delphine said. ‘I’ll just go and get myself a sandwich, stretch my legs and get a breath of fresh air outside. I shouldn’t be more than an hour.’

  She felt guilty at leaving Philippe but knew that a break from the confines of the stuffy hospital room would do her good. The nurse’s words were rolling around her mind as she paid for her sandwich at the counter of the hospital cafeteria and then took it outside to eat, blinking in the bright morning sunshine.

  Denis hadn’t been back to visit since the emergency dash in the ambulance and Delphine was disappointed that she had heard nothing from Candice. As she bit into her sandwich a thought occurred to Delphine. Maybe she should try and contact someone in England. She was sure Mr Robert would want to know what had happened to his friend, and of course his new girlfriend Holly would want to be at his side. Philippe’s mobile phone was not among the scant possessions lying on his bedside cabinet so Delphine presumed it must be at the house in Tamarina Bay. She didn’t really want to leave him alone for the two hours it would take to make the round trip to collect the phone but the more she thought about it the more she knew that it was her responsibility to let his friends in England know what was happening.

  She pulled her own mobile phone out of her bag and was surprised for a moment to see she had a message, before remembering that the phone had been on silent inside the hospital. The message was from Candice :

  Oh no that is terrible. I feel it is my fault. Can I come and visit?

  Delphine checked the time the message was sent. Yesterday afternoon! She was annoyed with herself for not checking her phone earlier. She replied immediately:

  Can u come asap?

  Less than a minute later she received a reply :

  Is he worse? I’m on my way - there in an hour.

  Delphine quickly sent a message of reassurance, realising that she might have panicked Candice unnecessarily :

  No still the same but I need someone to sit with him while I go to his house for his phone. I’ll be as quick as I can.

  Delphine went back into the hospital to tell the nurse, who true to her word was sat at Philippe’s bedside, that someone was coming to relieve her for a while. Then she headed for the car park, climbed into her ancient Peugeot and headed south out of Port Louis.

  An hour later she was unlocking the front door of Philippe’s house. It was already losing Philippe’s personality as he had packed away his pictures from the walls and the knick-knacks he had collected since arriving in Mauritius. She glanced at the small table near the front door but there was no sign of his phone. She checked his bedside table and the bathroom before moving into the kitchen. The remainder of the croissants she had thoughtfully left for him two days earlier were now hard and stale so she threw them in the bin as she scanned the kitchen work surfaces. How odd, she thought, if he had stormed out of the house in a temper he may well have forgotten his mobile but surely it would be lying in a prominent position. Delphine crossed to his desk, normally piled high with papers, but now empty apart from his laptop. Nothing. She was just starting to stick her hand down the side of the sofa, in case it had slipped down there, when she realised the easiest way to find the missing phone would be to ring it. She dialled his number and waited. It was ringing on her handset but there was no sound from within the house.

  Damn, she thought, what a wasted journey and then her eyes rested on the laptop again. The top was not quite closed down and as she opened it, it sprang into life. Of course, she thought, if I can’t call Philippe’s friends maybe I can email them. Delphine was not particularly computer literate but she knew the basics, so how hard could it be to find a couple of email addresses, she reasoned. She typed the word Holly into the search bar at the top of the screen and before she had even finished the five letters an address popped up. She clicked on it and then sat down to compose an email that wouldn’t alarm Holly but instead would ask her to contact Delphine as soon as possible. She pressed send and then started to look for Mr Robert. This time several addresses popped up after typing the first three letters and Delphine had no way of knowing which was the correct one. Obviously she didn’t want to send emails to all of the Roberts in Philippe’s address book so how was she going to find the one she needed. Maybe he had emailed Philippe recently? Although she didn’t want to pry by reading private emails she figured it was a necessary evil. She clicked on the inbox and the top message was to say that her email to Holly had failed to be delivered. What did I do wrong? she wondered. This was not going too well.

  The next message down started with the words, ‘Where the hell are you?’ It was from someone called Jo, a name Delphine had heard Philippe speak about in connection with his book. As it was work-related rather than personal, she didn’t feel too bad reading it:

  Where the hell are you? The car I sent to meet you waited at the airport for two hours before ringing me, waking me up, I might add, to tell me you hadn’t arrived. I tried to ring you but you didn’t pick up and so I checked with the airline and you weren’t on the flight. What’s going on, Phil?

  Jo

  With everything that had happened Delphine had forgotten that Philippe was supposed to have been on a flight back to the UK the previous evening. Clearly this Jo had been expecting him and was now concerned as to his whereabouts. Again Delphine composed an email, but this time she was a little more specific as Jo was asking a direct question:

  I am Mr Philippe’s housekeeper. I am sorry to tell you he has been involved in an incident and is currently in Intensive Care in the hospital at Port Louis.

  Kind Regards

  Delphine Deveraux

  Delphine glanced at her watch. It was just past midday which meant in the UK it would only be 8 a.m. and she couldn’t imagine that this person would be checking her emails that early, particularly as she had been disturbed with a late night phone call. Delphine wanted to get back to the hospital as soon as possible so decided she couldn’t wait for a response from Jo.

  More worrying was that the message she had sent to Holly had not gone. Perhaps it wasn’t the right address after all, although it had been the only Holly. She scrolled down the inbox and came to an email from Holly. Perhaps I can just reply to this thought Delphine as she opened it. She stared at the contents in disbelief. So that was why her message to Holly hadn’t sent. No wonder he was so upset on Wednesday at the Dolphin Bar, but what had any of it to do with her brother Jacques?

  In a state of total confusion, Delphine let herself out of the house and headed back to the hospital.

  Chapter 63

  Harry clattered down the stairs and flung his bag on the hall floor ready for his return journey to Bath before heading into the kitchen to make some breakfast for himself and his mum. He was elated since meeting Robert Forrester and being asked for his ideas on a couple of Robert’s projects. It really felt as though he might have a future in his chosen career that would amount to more than designing boring council buildings. Robert had more or less promised him a job once he had finished his degree and had even suggested that he should write his dissertation about hotel architecture around the world, featuring Robert Forrester. Talk about inside information, Harry thought, I’ll be able to ask Robert first hand about inspiration and technical problems without having to rely on misinformation on the Internet
.

  He was grinning from ear to ear when Holly walked into the kitchen in her dressing gown looking pale and tired.

  ‘Kettle’s on, Mum,’ he said. ‘Do you want tea, coffee or hot flavoured water?’ He was referring to her penchant for fruit infusions which he thought were disgusting.

  The thought of tea or coffee turned Holly’s already fragile stomach. ‘Camomile and Honey for me please.’

  Harry pulled a face. ‘Is that what I’ll start drinking in middle age?’

  ‘Less of your cheek, young man,’ Holly countered, not really feeling up to his playful banter but not wanting to ruin his ebullient mood. She was aware that she had been quiet on the journey home from Woldingham and over supper last evening but she had a lot on her mind. They had been caught in heavy traffic on the way home so had arrived back in Reading too late for Holly to nip out to the chemist for a pregnancy test. There was no rush really. She already knew that she was pregnant, the test would simply confirm it, and she had decided that she wasn’t going to tell Harry until he had finished his term at Bath University in a few weeks’ time.

  And then there was Rosemary. When she had hugged her yesterday she had been shocked to discover that she was little more than a bag of bones. Clever dressing disguised it but surely Robert couldn’t be blind to the fact that his wife was simply wasting away.

  ‘Toast or cereal?’ asked Harry, spreading a thick layer of butter on his own charred bread that had just popped out of the toaster.

  ‘Just one piece for me, with no butter thanks.’

  ‘You’re not watching your weight, are you, Mum? Cos you didn’t have much for supper last night either. Don’t go all skinny, you look better with curves.’

  Just as well, thought Holly, as I’m going to have one great big curve around my middle soon enough.