The Vineyard

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The Vineyard Page 11

by Karen Aldous


  Her path was obviously not an easy one but he had no wish to interfere. His mission now wasn’t to drive his own interests forward. Yes, he had his vines and they were important but he found himself increasingly smitten, as well as wishing to repay Caroline her kindness. Not that she ever asked. They were both proud but needed pushing together. They both deserved that. If there was one thing he’d learned through his experience it was that families should be together.

  It was one of the hardest tasks he had ever done; tell Lizzie about her mother. Particularly after the shock of her encounter with Anton. That was hard enough to deal with. He was now in this so deep. Just days ago Caroline had visited the consultant surgeon and she was now admitted to hospital and undergoing surgery which seemed absolute madness in such a short time. Caroline must be beside herself. Lizzie shocked. He just prayed they would have the time to mend their bridges and enjoy a future together. He had to try. He didn’t know Caroline well enough to know the details about her family. Caroline didn’t even ask for anyone. It was only chance that he had walked in and discovered her crying and she disclosed to him the conversation with the doctor. Otherwise she would not have shared her condition with anyone.

  This also shook Cal and spurred him into action and into finding Lizzie, which thankfully he had done. Yes, his feelings for Lizzie were getting harder to hide but if he could get them to talk and resolve their differences, that would be reward enough.

  Chapter 13

  Seeing her old home again triggered a spiky jolt in Lizzie’s stomach; a stark reminder of her last visit. The leaves had thickened and a bouquet of scents floated through the air from the bountiful array of blooms in the flowerbeds. It was certainly hotter than a few weeks ago when Lizzie had fled. Entering the farmhouse kitchen, she sat Thierry down at the table. That very same table she reminded herself, she used to sit at as a child. She dug out his cup from her handbag and filled it with water.

  His hands reached up, welcoming his cup and the cool water. Lizzie then rummaged through her bag until she found him a small pack of biscuits and one of his books whilst she found the telephone number for the hospital. She perched down next to him on a chair, fidgeting and stroking his hair and with the other hand tapped out the number. Lizzie bit her lip – she hoped to hear good news. A nurse announced herself once she was transferred to her mother’s ward. She confirmed that the operation had taken place and had indeed taken four hours, and a large mass had been removed along with nineteen lymph nodes. The nurse dissuaded her from visiting until tomorrow, insisting Caroline Lambert would still be asleep possibly until this evening. The anaesthetic would take a long while to wear off, she told her, and there was no point visiting until tomorrow. Lizzie gave a sigh, at least they’d removed the worst. Following her in with the bags, Cal was amazing and couldn’t do enough to help. All through the journey back, he had been attentive and paid attention to Thierry, even though he was, Lizzie assumed, also worried. He put the kettle on and now quietly chatted to the boy who was enjoying his drink and biscuits. As Lizzie put down her phone she climbed from her seat fighting her tears. She leaned by the sink trying to absorb the facts. Her mother was suffering alone and she felt ashamed.

  ‘Sorry, I doubted you,’ she said, wiping her moist eyes. Cal’s gaze was soft and sympathetic, which only fuelled her tears. Sniffing, she repeated the nurse’s words.

  ‘Is there anything I can get you?’ he enquired. ‘Tea, coffee or something stronger?’

  ‘Tea would be great, thank you.’ As he got up she let a sprinkling of tears to roll down her cheeks. ‘It’s hard to take in.’ she told him.

  Cal stood and slid his head to one side, like a cute puppy. Lizzie half smiled.

  ‘I know,’ Cal agreed, wiping her cheeks with his fingers, then smudging his own with his palm. They shared silent thoughts, then standing back, he said, ‘Come on. Let’s look at the positives, she’s had the op and she’s on the mend. Let’s do all we can to get her back on the road.’

  ‘You make her sound like a car.’

  ‘Hmm. She’ll be around a lot longer than your average car if I know your mum! So, do you want me to take you shopping or can I go out and get you anything you need. I can cook you dinner,’ he volunteered. ‘You sort Thierry’s dinner out and I’ll cook ours.’

  Lizzie smiled gratefully and was genuinely taken aback. Apart from Sophie, no one ever looked after her like this, especially not a man. She’d never had a man offer to cook her a meal, that’s for sure; well an occasional snack maybe if that counts as a meal.

  ‘That’s very kind of you.’ She dabbed her cheeks. Her eyes dried a little and she scooped her hair up and let it fall again combing it with her fingers. ‘What must you think of me for disbelieving you? It was pretty heartless of me.’

  ‘I’m just so glad you’re here and you can go to her,’ he said, placing the hot tea beside her on a coaster.

  ‘I’ll call again in the morning,’ she said, taking a sip of tea. ‘Mmm, nice cup of proper tea.’

  Cal pulled a small pad and a pencil out of the fruit bowl on the table. ‘So what do you need? You get unpacked, make yourselves comfy, have baths, showers or whatever it is you want and I’ll just get dinner organised. Your mother won’t thank me if I don’t look after her guests.’

  Gazing hard at him as if to say I think I can trust you, she sensed an overwhelming feeling of warmth from him. ‘Just some milk and a pasta meal for Thierry for now please?’

  ‘Ok, I’ll get some provisions as well, won’t be long.’ He shook his pocket for keys.

  ***

  Stuffed full of Cal’s yummy pasta, Thierry was sleepy. It was eight o’clock by the time Lizzie finished reading him his bedtime story. Lizzie made her way down the stairs, enticed by the aroma of fresh herbs and garlic. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror at the bottom. It didn’t reflect her inner wretchedness. She wasn’t sure whether it was the effects of the warm shower or being out in the air the last couple of days, but her skin, surprisingly, wore a healthy sun-brushed glow and the pinkness of her cheeks gave her face a youthful radiance.

  Sighting Cal at the Aga, if she was like her mother, then they certainly had the same taste in men. In beautifully hugging jeans, his gorgeous pinchable, pert bum immediately distracted Lizzie. Stealing a few seconds more admiring broad square shoulders, she stood in the doorway.

  Cal swung round. She froze on the spot, alarmed he’d caught her ogling. Oh, God, what must he think?

  ‘Hungry?’ he asked, realising he’d been given the once over.

  ‘Ooh yes.’ God, if only he knew how hungry she was for that body. Ok Stop! What was she thinking? How in just a few days could she be buckling under such a tornado of emotions: lust, hate, mistrust, fear and guilt?

  ‘I didn’t realize you had come down. You must have tiptoed!’ He reached for a cloth and dried his hands.

  ‘Oh, sorry, I was miles away,’ she said. She breathed a severe chastisement to herself. She could lose her head and rapidly run upstairs and keep her distance from him or keep her head and be strong and determined. The latter was more her style now, she decided.

  ‘Yes, very hungry,’ she said again.

  ‘There are some olives and I’ve opened a bottle of red. Do you drink red?’ He pointed to the breathing bottle and two long-stemmed wine goblets nestled next to the dish of large green olives. She shuffled forward licking her lips. Cal poured the burgundy liquid and handed her the glass.

  She recognised the label at once Volnay, Vieilles Vignes, Maison Roche de Bellene.

  ‘You have a fine palette for wine,’ she told him, tossing a glance from the label to his eager eyes. She sniffed her glass to catch its nose. She then swilled the smooth ruby liquid around the glass. ‘Got legs too,’ she said, before finally sipping.

  ‘I love a good Pinot Noir and where else other than the villages of Burgundy would you find that?’

  ‘Quite,’ she agreed, her tongue licking the wine on her lips. ‘That’s
good.’

  Cal poured a small amount into his own glass and also inspected its clarity. As he shifted round, holding the glass to the light, he stumbled, losing his balance just inches from her. With his flesh so close she squeaked as the force of lust encroached. She could almost taste his lips as he snatched the end of the table to steady himself. Pulling himself back he steered his glass to hers.

  ‘Sante! Let’s toast to your mother’s fast recovery.’

  ‘Mmm. Yeah! Yes, mum’s speedy recovery,’ she said. Fuck, Fuck. Lizzie grated under her breath in utter guilt, furious that her mind had wandered again.

  ***

  The next morning Thierry woke confused about his unfamiliar surroundings. But Lizzie gave him a hug to let him know all was fine. He then jumped off the bed and played with his Thomas Tank Engine, contented enough on the bedroom floor. Lizzie figured she would need to get a safety gate for the top of the stairs in case her son opened the bedroom door. She would also check out the other spare room, maybe clear it out a bit for Thierry. She just hoped her mother wouldn’t mind. She’d noticed too that Cal was not in her mother’s room but had one of the spare bedrooms. Quite thoughtful of him really, to keep it nice for when she came home.

  She looked in the mirror and a dishevelled-haired woman looked back. The look of despair in her face reflected the concern she felt. Not only about her mother’s cancer but about having to face her again and having to concede on her beliefs so quickly. It was like telling her mother she was forgiving her and that whatever she did or said was ok. Well she had now come this far and so she would make an effort. She couldn’t attack a sick woman.

  In fact, in her heart, she couldn’t help thinking her mother had designed this scenario just to manipulate. An awful and rather tragic thought to have to admit, even to herself. She now needed to occupy her mind. She would sort out a plan for Thierry. She really didn’t want him at the hospital with her, not yet. Maybe she could find a crèche. She could ask Cal but she hardly thought it would be top of his list of local facilities. She made a note to visit the local library and see if they had more info. She grabbed her notebook. Her head wouldn’t store all she needed to do and she wrote a note on her pad to check out nurseries. Then onto finding a few toys and listing items for Thierry as she couldn’t get much at the airport for him to play with.

  When she finally got down stairs after showering herself and Thierry, Cal was in the kitchen making toast and coffee. She deliberately kept her eyes off him.

  ‘Morning Lizzie. Thierry. Did you both sleep well?’

  Thierry’s small hand left his mother’s and he ran over to Cal showing off his Thomas train with his other hand turning on a small button and setting the wheels in motion.

  ‘Thomas Engine,’ he thrust the train out as Cal bent down to look.

  ‘It is. Clever Thomas. He must have had his breakfast already this morning?’

  ‘Yes, he had coal and steam on toast and he’s going to save Emily,’ Lizzie declared.

  ‘Oh. Is Emily his girlfriend?’ Cal enquired raising his eyebrows at Lizzie.

  Thierry looked up at Cal and then at his mother.

  ‘No, silly, he likes Emily and Rosie,’ she stated, giving Cal a playful glance.

  ‘Well good for him – he’s a lucky train with two girlfriends he likes.’

  ‘Thomas has lots of friends he likes…’

  ‘Yes darling, we can talk about all his friends later. Shall we have some breakfast?’ Lizzie broke in quickly before her son had any opportunity to bore Cal with the entire cast of Thomas and friends.

  Cal laughed. ‘I would love to hear all about them later but right now, what would you like to eat? Cal asked, going through the entire contents of the fridge and cupboards. Once decided, he got busy.

  ‘Do you mind if I use his own dish. I don’t want him breaking any of Mum’s best china.’

  ‘Yes, yes. You are the expert here. My parenting skills have…well, I don’t have much,’ Cal proclaimed.

  Lizzie actually thought him a natural father, he was so good with Thierry. There was no falseness. She imagined him to be devastated not living with his own child. She could never do it. Maybe that’s why he made such an effort with Thierry. Thierry seemed happy around him too.

  ‘I trust him at home but not here. Not yet anyway.’ Lizzie took a set of Thomas dishes out of her large bag and put one on the table. ‘He can have this, it’s plastic.’

  ‘Well, young man. You are a lucky chap having a mum that thinks of everything.’ Cal poured the cereal in a large heap in the bowl. Lizzie creased a critical lip and poured some back.

  ‘Sorry, but once the milk goes in it’ll go everywhere.’

  ‘I’m sure we’ll get the hang of this after a few days.’ Cal stood watching Lizzie pour the milk and settle the boy on a cushion on the chair. She then pulled out a plastic Thomas beaker and also filled that with milk. Feeling just a bit inadequate he turned back to the toaster.

  ‘I will just need to get a few things organised this morning,’ Lizzie told him.

  ‘Sure, anything I can help with?’

  ‘Well if you don’t mind chauffeuring me and Thierry. I’ll need to find some day care so the local library will probably have the information I need.’

  ‘There’s a nursery in the complex, there’s a school, a leisure centre, medical centre, sports fields, farmers market. I could drive you there and you could go in, have a look, and get some info.’

  ‘Great. Yes. I also need to buy some bits for Thierry too, like toys, clothes, equipment – all that clutter that children come with!’

  ‘No problem. The builders will be ok for a few hours. We can go straight off to a kiddy store but not sure where the nearest one is. And, so that you know, I am quite happy to help with Thierry if you don’t want to take him to the hospital. I’ll look after him if he will stay with me.’

  Lizzie was quite taken aback. ‘I don’t know. It’s early days. It’s very kind of you to offer though,’ she said, hoping not to have offended him.

  He smiled. ‘I understand but the offer is there.’

  Within an hour, Lizzie had managed a tour of the nursery and she thought it perfect. It seemed very well run with outdoor activities as well and they agreed they could take Thierry so it was organised for a trial that very afternoon, which gave Lizzie a chance to shop with Thierry before visiting her mother in hospital. She bought a few toys and books, bedding and a warmer, showerproof jacket along with some items the nursery required him to have. Once Thierry was dropped at the centre, Cal drove Lizzie to the hospital.

  Pulling up outside the large modern entrance, Cal pulled on the handbrake and told her, ‘I’m going to leave you to it. You and your mother will have a chance to talk.’

  With ice shooting through her veins, Lizzie fumbled to open the door.

  ‘Good luck,’ he said.

  She stepped out of the vehicle unable to feel her legs beneath her. Please let this go well.

  Chapter 14

  The colour and vibrancy apparent in her mother just a few weeks ago had diminished and the effect of the anaesthetic was obvious in her pallid body. Caroline looked washed out and helpless. Lizzie couldn’t help but feel compassion for her but no love surfaced. Her bobbed hair was pushed up and away from her forehead, her face ashen without make-up. As Lizzie crept nearer Caroline looked right through her.

  She obviously hadn’t recognised her daughter or else was ignoring her, Lizzie wasn’t sure. Feeling a thickening in her throat, she loitered, hunched in fear. She felt the urge to run. No, no. Face her. Why was she ignoring her? Her heart sank. She couldn’t do this. She didn’t know if she even liked this woman in front of her and couldn’t forgive her.

  Don’t be stupid. You’re a grown woman now. It was her responsibility to help, her duty as a daughter to be here for her and nurse her back to health. It was a new experience but she felt as useless as a string-less violin. There was so much she didn’t understand. Her mother now looked har
d at her. She quickly donned a veneer.

  ‘Mum, it’s me Lizzie.’

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Caroline croaked.

  Her words pierced Lizzie’s volatile heart. Instinctively, Lizzie wanted to hand her the glass of water which was resting on the cabinet beside her. ‘Cal told me you were…that I needed to see you and that you haven’t been well.’ Lizzie stammered. How could she admit she was ardently persuaded by Cal to come because she didn’t want to or didn’t care, nor believed either of them to be genuine; that she’d imagined her mother was cooking up a scheme to get her back home? To scare her?

  ‘How did he know where you were?’

  ‘Oh, er, not sure. He found me in Provence. He said he had a business meeting but was glad I was there because he would have come looking for me. He really does care about you Mum.’

  ‘Well nice to hear someone does. More than I can say about you. You don’t need to be here. In fact I would rather you go! I can manage. I can get through this without you.’

  Lizzie battled with imminent tears. ‘I’m sorry Mum. I’m sorry I said horrid things to you. I was angry and hurt. Please let me help you. You need someone to look after you.’

  ‘I’ll be fine. You go back to your life in Cannes. I don’t need you.’

  ‘But Mum…’ Lizzie quivered. ‘Please?’

  ‘Cal should never have told you. It’s none of his business.’

  ‘That’s not fair. He is only trying to help you. Also, if I’m here you can come home. I can nurse you.’

 

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