The Vineyard

by Karen Aldous

  ‘Ok. I fly back tomorrow so let me know if you decide you want to see your mother? I’m in room twenty one.’

  Chapter 11

  After a long lie down, Lizzie did in fact feel famished and got herself and Thierry showered. Downstairs in the restaurant Lizzie spotted Cal sitting at a table alone, speaking to a couple at the table beside him. Good she thought, at least he’s occupied and will leave me alone. But, in her secret heart, she couldn’t help enjoying the excitement he brought into her life. Yes, she knew it wasn’t right, and she would never act on it but he’d certainly made her feel like a woman again. Something she hadn’t felt for a long time. But, after their brush earlier, he was becoming so difficult to resist. She had to make sure she didn’t get too close again. In fact, it was just as well he was travelling back to England. At least he was out of temptation’s way.

  She sat with Thierry on the dining terrace, the sun now cooler but creating fantastic light over the valley and vineyards beyond. It was a truly magnificent Provence scene that would have inspired artists such as Cezanne and Van Gogh. The waitress brought out a booster seat for Thierry on which Lizzie placed him to give him a little more height. The menu, as usual, made her mouth water and she ordered a goat cheese and rocket salad for herself and a child’s size pizza. As Thierry munched through his dinner, Lizzie glanced back at Cal, who was still sat chatting to the couple. She couldn’t help now wishing he would come over to their table. She didn’t know whether it was the romantic setting and the balminess of the evening but it seemed too beautiful not to share. Stop, stop. Instead, she pulled out her mobile and rang Sophie. She still had to face the decision whether to visit her mother

  ‘How are things going in Paris?’ she asked her friend.

  ‘Well, annoyingly, the problem took five minutes to sort out. I was tempted to come straight back, but then I started sorting out my wardrobes and got distracted. How are my two favourite people?’

  ‘We’re ok, missing you.’

  ‘I’m sorry. What a pain. I’ve…Oh, that’s my buzzer, it’s probably Guillaume. He said he was going to take me out for a drink tonight. Lizzie can I call you later or tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Lizzie hid her disappointment. ‘Bye.’

  ‘Sorry Lizzie. Love you both and enjoy the rest of your week.’

  Blast! Vexed she was now having to face her decision alone without being able to consult Sophie, Lizzie went into silent panic. She had no idea what she was going to do. Truth be told, she couldn’t really grasp her own emotions.

  Well, she had to make up her own mind and if her mother was really life-threateningly ill, she should at least do the dutiful thing and help her. Take a leap of faith and trust them. It was only right. Wasn’t she now woman enough to act the adult instead of the child. Cal obviously cared enough to help them out as mother and daughter regardless of his motivations. Would they really make up something as drastic as cancer? It was possible Cal felt out of his depth coping with her illness and needed support himself.

  Regardless, she couldn’t help herself falling for him, wanting him and dreaming headily that he would take her in his arms right now and take her to his room and make love to her. Stealthily she peered at him, shielding her face with her arm but, whoops, he caught her, and her cheeks stung. Lizzie was annoyed with herself, not only had she embarrassed herself, but what must he think? He must sense her sexual tension. She almost hated herself for allowing her head to conjure such thoughts. He was forbidden fruit. Possibly a step-father! And, could he be trusted? What would he do if she made a pass at him? Would he betray her mother?

  Switching her mind to the only little man that mattered, she brushed his thick fringe back from his brow as Thierry nibbled away at his pizza. She surveyed him, feeling immense pride and unparalleled tenderness. She could never imagine life without Thierry and she would never ever jeopardise it. He was the final reason she should get Cal out of her mind.

  Her food arrived and to keep her son busy she leaned back and lifted her bag from the back of his chair. Rummaging through it, she supplied Thierry with his favourite little cars which always kept him amused and, removing his plate, placed them on the table in front of him. He was soon engrossed. Lizzie tucked into her salad, listening to Thierry chat away to the cars. It made her smile. It was a great shame his father was such a fuckwit but he would have to be faced. She blew out a heaving sigh, not noticing Cal until a hand appeared with a glass of beer in it and he sat beside her. Thierry gave him a cheerful grin before continuing playing with his cars. Cal joined in with the vroom, vroom sounds, mirroring Thierry.

  ‘Quite a natural,’ Lizzie blinked hard to retain her senses.

  ‘Lots of practice. I was a boy once,’ Cal smiled, sending Lizzie’s heart into overdrive. She gave a little laugh at his attempt at humour. Still tense about how to read him she tried desperately to ignore the presence of his body as he sat so close to her.

  ‘How are you this evening?’ he asked, eyes still on Thierry who pushed a car across for him. ‘Thank you,’ he said to the boy.

  ‘Much better thank you,’ she answered, observing the two of them veering cars around the table cloth - so very much on the same level - boys and their toys! ‘I can’t thank you enough, for rescuing Thierry.’

  Cal continued playing. ‘You’re very welcome. It’s good to know I’m useful for something.’

  He waited until Lizzie pushed some pieces to the side of her plate and positioned her knife and fork together in the centre before he cleared his throat and said, ‘At the risk of ruining what is undoubtedly a most beautiful evening, I just want to let you know I heard from your mother a short while ago.’ At Lizzie’s start, Cal waved a commanding hand and continued, ‘Like it or not, she is being admitted into hospital tomorrow. They are going to operate. The tests and scan have revealed…well, what she most feared.’ He gazed at her in silence.

  A lump rushed to her throat. She scanned her almost empty dinner plate and swallowed hard, trying to take it in, not wanting to be sucked into a trap or a scheme but also afraid what he was saying was true. Would he lie about something like this?

  ‘Please Lizzie,’ he said softly, searching her eyes. ‘The strong suspicion is that she has an aggressive form of breast cancer,’ he added, reaching for her hand and rubbing his thumb across it. ‘I’m sorry. That is all I can tell you,’ he paused, ‘as I’ve told you before, I am just the messenger. So, you need to make your own mind up. You do what you feel you must do but I would like to help in any way I can,’ he finished and she watched as his dark lashes lowered for a while and then opened up.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Cal asked.

  Lizzie nodded, holding back her emotions. She gazed into his eyes, seeking that trustworthiness she so needed. She couldn’t imagine why he would actually make up such a thing. She was afraid to open her mouth. Afraid what she would say. He withdrew his hand and her eyes followed him as he slowly rose without breaking eye contact.

  ‘I’ll leave you to take it all in, unless you prefer I stay? But, believe me when I say, I only want to help you both and…much as I hate to admit it, I need…’ he struggled with the right words. ‘It’s a delicate matter but, as her daughter you are the best person to help.’ Lizzie swore she saw his eyes moisten. He continued, ‘Just let me know by the morning. She has a taxi arranged for the hospital at seven thirty in the morning.'

  Leaving her speechless, he strode off across the terrace. Lizzie opened her mouth to call him but a nut-sized knot in her throat pulled it too tight. She finally called, ‘Cal, wait. Don’t go.’ She stood to see him turn but her throat constricted once more as he approached.

  ‘If…If it’s true…I’ll,’ her hands reached up, shielding her face and suddenly she burst into tears. Cal ran to her, like a hero in a dramatic movie, wrapping her in his arms. She fell into his chest, all her grief exploding in a moment; for herself? No, she found, for her mother. The mother she wished she’d had. The regret she might have if she d
idn’t go to her. This was not really the best way she wanted her son to meet his grandmother. But what if she died before he knew her, met her? Cal’s embrace felt warm, his touch tender, the scent of leather and berry that constantly provoked her senses began to comfort her rather than awaken her desires. A strong sense of belonging gripped her. She longed to stay safe in his arms. This man had taken her to a new level of sensual awareness, he was cracking her shell like no one before and she craved more of him. That scared her too. What sort of person was she? Cal collected a paper serviette from the table and slipped it into her hand. She dried her eyes.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she managed, reaching for the tissue and stepping back from his arms. ‘I’m Ok. You must be hurting too.’ The realisation suddenly dawned on her that he must love her mother dearly to be going to all this trouble, and her mother must, right now, need him there beside her. As strong as her mother seemed, she was sure he would want to be there to support her and let her know he cared. She never recalled her mother ever having a cold before let alone cancer. This was going to be very traumatic for her mother, she felt sure.

  ‘I want to go to her,’ Lizzie stated as she took on a grown up leap of faith. In her quest to trust him in this, she had made up her mind. ‘I will book a flight first thing in the morning and inform Anton.’ Cal raised his brows. Then closed his eyes, shaking his head.

  ‘I think you are doing the right thing Lizzie,’ he said, clutching his chest and letting out a large sigh. ‘If you’re sure. My flight is at ten thirty from Marseilles. Would you like me to call the airline and see if there is room on the same flight for you and Thierry? I have my car at Gatwick too.’

  ‘Let me call Marie-Claire, that’s my nanny,’ she said, speed dialling the number. ‘I will need her to organise passports and all the things I need with me. I don’t want to book it and then she can’t get to the airport. That’s rather a tight deadline to manage.’

  ‘We could drive you back home tonight?’ Cal suggested but Lizzie had already dialled the number and began speaking to Marie-Claire. ‘Ok,’ she said triumphantly, shutting down her mobile. ‘Marie-Claire can be at the airport with all we need by nine tomorrow.’

  ‘Great. I’ll call the airline now,’ Cal announced, lifting out his phone. ‘I’ll need your full names and date of births.’

  Lizzie produced a small pad and pen from her bag and wrote the details out for him and handed them to him. As he grasped the paper, Lizzie winced silently at his touch and couldn’t help but wonder, again, if she was doing the right thing. Was she doing the right thing going back with him and giving her trust?

  Chapter 12

  It was all booked and organised on Cal’s phone before Lizzie could change her mind. Their luck was in and seats were available on the flight. She would need to call Josephine at home. She was going to need all the help she could get and she would need to keep her in the loop, not knowing what was going on with her mother or how long it would all take. She would call Anton just before they boarded the flight. The less time he had to act, the better she thought. Cal tucked his credit card back in his wallet and sat thoughtfully as if reading her mind.

  ‘There’s just one call to make then. In the morning maybe?’

  ‘Definitely,’ Lizzie agreed ‘and just before boarding I think!’ she cringed.

  ‘Ok, a quick drink and I’m sure you’ll need to get organised?’

  ‘Great. On me. What will it be?’ she said, satisfied with a decision made.

  ‘A refreshing beer would be nice.’

  ‘I’ll have one too and then I will need to get this little man off to bed and pack.’

  After a hot and restless night, Lizzie finally gave up trying to sleep. Her head buzzing, she slipped out of bed tip-toeing and made a coffee. She crept out on to the balcony. The air was still warm and the hills masked by a dawn mist, stretching lazily over the undulating landscape.

  It occurred to her that Sophie could possibly have to move south without her. She couldn’t predict how long she’d be away. Poor Sophie having to rush off. And what would she have made of Anton’s behaviour? She would have called the police for sure. She had always had a bad feeling about him and his bad-boy persona and, like any big sister, warned her not to get involved.

  She thought of ringing Sophie but what use would that be. The last thing she wanted was for her friend to feel guilty about leaving her and she did have a lot of sorting out to do. Besides, she didn’t want to worry her too much about Anton’s recent behaviour. Sophie had always warned her off Anton even though she had only met him briefly all those years ago. So why, she asked herself, didn’t she listen? She supposed, as always, she had a knack of learning things the hard way.

  The alarm on her phone woke her at seven. She was extremely tired and was surprised she’d dropped off but decided to wake herself by getting showered before waking Thierry. She put on a cool peach top with a light pair of navy jeans which she’d left out on top of the packed bags and which should be warm enough for the British summer, along with a cream, linen jacket. She slipped on a pair of neutral flat sandals. She wore her hair loose and applied a touch of makeup. She then packed up the remainder of her belongings before giving Thierry a gentle shake.

  Collecting bags and checking out the hotel, they packed the cars up and headed for the airport. Lizzie waited for Cal to drop off his rental car and they took her car and parked.

  Waiting for their flight back to London, Lizzie took an opportune moment to call Anton from a phone booth. His phone rang for a while and to her relief, went to voice mail. She left him a brief message. Once through security, they stopped for a coffee and some toast for Thierry.

  ‘I needed that,’ Lizzie remarked yawning. ‘I’m going to sleep well tonight.’

  ‘I expect you are worried?’ Cal quizzed, sipping his drink.

  Lizzie contemplated the question. ‘She’s a tough woman. I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ Lizzie tried to avoid becoming emotional.

  ‘That’s exactly what I think,’ he agreed. ‘You are very much like her, did you know that?’

  Horrified, Lizzie raised her eyebrows and her mouth opened aghast. Surely not. She wasn’t really sure what to make of his comment.

  ‘How on earth did a nice girl like you get caught up with such an irksome rogue as Anton?’ Cal asked her.

  ‘God knows. It didn’t last long really,’ Lizzie admitted, glancing fondly at a happy Thierry picking out pictures in his book and saying the words aloud. Nothing serious. I was with him about six or seven weeks, I suppose. I finished with him because he was so bloody controlling, so jealous and took huge pleasure in humiliating me in front of people. Then I found out I was pregnant and the rest, as they say, is history,’ Lizzie said, wondering why she had spilled out everything and, for the first time since she’d had her son, felt a touch of shame. She anticipated a response, a comment. A huge silence swirled. Was he judging her like her mother? Would it matter?

  ‘Finish your toast Thierry,’ she told him. He looked from his book to his plate. Then gripped the neatly sliced bread with tiny fingers.

  ‘What a good boy you are,’ Cal remarked as Thierry looked up at him.

  ‘To think I nearly had him terminated,’ she went on, ‘I can’t believe I even considered it now but at the time it was something I could have opted for but I just couldn’t. Neither did I want anything to do with Anton. Once I’d got to know him, apart from our lifestyles being poles apart, he just wasn’t the type to be interested in hearing about my problem. I thought I was doing him a favour not telling him about the pregnancy.

  ‘Maybe you were right to follow your instincts I think,’ affirmed Cal.

  ‘I was tempted to tell him at one point, just to ease my own conscience but eventually came to the conclusion he wasn’t worth it. He would only try to control me. Can you imagine? I couldn’t stand to be near him. Anton is used to getting his own way.’

  ‘So when you finished with him, how did he react?’


  ‘Not good. He wanted me to stay in Cannes. He was trying to persuade me to move in with him. Not go to Verbier for the ski season. He said I wouldn’t need to work, he would pay for everything, clothes bags, shoes, even a car. He wanted complete control of me and I…well, was just not comfortable with that, not me I’m afraid.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Cal said, scratching his head.

  Lizzie stared at her coffee cup, squinting her eyes and thinking back. ‘A lying, cheating, manipulative bastard.’

  ‘So how did you manage? The south of France is not the cheapest of places to live,’ Cal asked, tipping the last of his coffee down his throat.

  ‘Bloody hard work but I just loved the area and the idea of making it a base, obviously keeping out of his way, which was quite easy really. But, do you know, luck played a big part. I got a job at the salon and then, god knows how, managed to buy it at a good price. I had some savings but Sophie helped. Rented a cheap flat. It seemed to fall into place.’ Lizzie flicked her hair back from her face. ‘Anyway, I must be boring you rigid!’

  ‘Not at all. The man is obviously a bully and a fool.’ ‘I’ll just settle the bill,’ she said as she caught the waiter’s eye. ‘Then I need to visit the ladies.’

  ‘I’ll sort that. You are welcome to leave him here for a few minutes,’ Cal offered.

  ‘Thanks but I’m not letting this little man out of my sight. I’ll put a nappy on him anyway for the journey.’

  Cal couldn’t help but admire Lizzie. He wondered if she still had feelings for Anton or whether she was in denial about ever feeling for him. Her determination not to let him control her seemed genuine. She never once gave him the impression that she needed him. Her focus was always on what was right for Thierry. Cal smiled at her maternal prowess, both as carer and provider. He often found himself thinking of her. From the moment he set eyes on her he felt the rumblings of desire. On the one hand he loved her sweet brightness – an angelic glow which seemed to radiate from her. Her presence was warm and enticing. The sparkle he caught in her olive green eyes as his eyes captured hers was playful and engaging. Her ripe pink lips were a pleasure to watch and a temptation to kiss and tease. Then in contrast to her vulnerability and sweet charm was her fierce independence, her strong and capable attitude. She had mastered the art of the retort. He thought her quite cunning but also quite susceptible particularly where her ex was concerned.