by Karen Aldous
‘Yes but with Thierry here Cal thought it would save you a trip.’
Cal slammed the back door with his foot. ‘Well I would have stayed with him but you were out anyway,’ he added.
‘I didn’t even notice you gone Cal, thank you. So glad you’re here, Welcome home. Thierry’s waiting,’ Lizzie added excitedly.
Shuffling at her mother’s pace she led her in gently.
‘I’m not an old invalid you know.’
‘Oh I know.’ Lizzie chuckled. ‘I thought you might be a little unsteady that’s all.’
‘That’s very thoughtful.’ Caroline said, snuggling into her daughter’s arm.
As they entered the kitchen, Thierry peered up with big dark eyes from his plate and Lizzie witnessed her mother’s face light up like the brightest sun.
‘Hello, my darling,’ she chimed to her grandson. ‘How lovely to see you again and, in my very own home.’ Lizzie thought she was going to cry with delight. She raised her palms to her face. ‘My grandchild, oh, my goodness, I still can’t believe it. ‘Oh, Thierry darling.’ His eyes followed hers as she approached him, kissing his forehead.
He took a new mouthful. ‘I’m eating my sandwich,’ he said, still munching, and making them all explode with laughter.
‘You are a good boy. You’ll grow big and strong just like Cal,’ said his grandmother.
‘When you finish your mouthful Thierry you can say hello to…oh Mum what would you like to be called? Grandma, Gran, Nanny?’
‘Grandma. It’s so funny but I have been thinking about that. Call me Grandma, darling.’
Thierry looked at his mother and then back to Caroline.
‘Say Hello Grandma,’ Lizzie said, giving her son a wink.
‘Hello Gr..andma,’ he said, creating another burst of cheery laughter.
‘Well he might need a bit of practice,’ Lizzie said as she walked over to the kettle. I’ll make some tea. Lunch is ready, so sit down.’
‘Grandma. Are you having a sandwich?’ Thierry asked.
‘I would love a sandwich. Your Mummy has been busy hasn’t she?’
‘Mummy…me and Mummy,’ he rushed his words excitedly. ‘We went to the shops and we bought flowers for you.’
‘Did you? What a kind boy and Mummy you are. Thank you, they are beautiful. This is so fabulous, so surreal. He is so adorable Lizzie,’ Caroline voiced in sheer delight.
‘He is isn’t he?’ Cal agreed.
‘I was so excited last night, I couldn’t sleep,’ she added.
‘Oh Mum, really. Well you know you must rest. You need to sleep to help your skin to heal,’ Lizzie showed a mock scowl.
‘Look, it’s not every day you discover you have a grandchild you know. I have so much to catch up on.’
‘As long as you don’t overdo it. Your rest is important,’ Lizzie said as she delivered the large plate of sandwiches and uncovered them. She then took plates from the cupboard and placed them on the table and returned to the task of making tea. ‘And anyway, I’ll make sure you do. We’ll have plenty of time. I’ll be here for a few weeks yet.’
‘And I shall be making the most of it,’ Caroline added. ‘I can’t tell you how much having you both here means to me.’
Cal looked across to Lizzie. He could see the pride and comfort that those words gave to her. She blushed at his attention and brought over the teas.
‘We are happy to be here,’ Lizzie told her mother. ‘And, we look forward to spending time with you. We want to make sure you get better, don’t we Thierry?’ Lizzie glanced back at Cal as he sat down at the table and she swore she spotted a tear in his eye.
‘Well I couldn’t be happier,’ Caroline affirmed, easing in to a chair at the table.
Lizzie couldn’t believe it. What a turnaround. All that time she’d wasted worrying how her mother would react to her having a child out of wedlock. She’d convinced herself she’d shamed her family. This outcome far exceeded anything she could have ever predicted.
‘Well Cal should also take some credit. He brought us back together.’ Lizzie picked up a sandwich and sat down facing him.
‘Yes I agree,’ Caroline nodded but failing to take her eyes off her grandson. ‘You have done so much Cal, thank you. Lizzie says you’ve looked after Thierry too. Didn’t have you down as a child minder!’
‘You are all very welcome but just so that you know, I have enjoyed it, particularly looking after Thierry. He’s a great lad,’ Cal chirped, finishing his sandwich before announcing, ‘Right. I’m just going to collect my things from the spare room and put them in the car ready to move back home. I have to get back to work. See you all later. Let me know if there is anything I can do?’
Hmm, Lizzie thought, Thierry was going to miss him.
Lizzie spent the afternoon in the lounge fussing over her mother whilst she settled back in. Cal obviously felt uncomfortable staying whilst she was around. Either that or her mother didn’t feel ready to have him in her bed yet but she hadn’t heard them discuss it. Anyway, she figured it was none of her business. She listened to her mother and Thierry chatting and inbetween, when possible, posed questions to her mother about the coming weeks, gathering details of Caroline’s numerous appointments and leaflets to read. It was all rather daunting to Lizzie so God knows how her mother felt about suddenly having to deal with it all. And this was just the beginning!
‘As you said. I’ll take each day as it comes,’ Caroline said, seeing Lizzie’s expression. ‘That’s all I can do. Of course, I’m praying the disease has been caught early enough.’
‘Well promise me you will tell me when you need something, anything. Don’t think you are going to be any trouble. I’m here to help.’ She raised her eyebrows to her mother.
‘I forgot to say actually, the nurse will be coming here for a couple of days.’
‘That’s fine. Presumably to do your dressing?’
‘Yes. If you could just keep my room clean and well aired?’
‘Of course.’ Lizzie nodded.
‘Then, I just want to hear all about what you have been up to whilst you were away and what you and Thierry do in and around Cannes. There’s just so much to catch up on.’
‘As long as you rest inbetween!’ Lizzie ordered, peering down at her like she was the mother, and they both laughed. After a short delay, Thierry giggled too which made them laugh even more. By four o’clock both her son and mother were fast asleep on the settee with the film Chitty Chitty Bang Bang playing on the TV. Lizzie finished off a bit of ironing and took the opportunity to make some calls.
She headed back into the kitchen and braced herself for the first call. She dialled Anton’s mobile, withholding her number. As it rang, she waited anxiously, then it went to voicemail. She left him a message.
‘Hi Anton, it’s Lizzie. I am still in England and it’s likely to be for a couple of weeks more as my mother has just got home from hospital. I shall stay here with her and Thierry until she can manage. I will come to see you as soon as I return.’
She was quite relieved he didn’t answer. At least this way he couldn’t keep her on the phone arguing. She then rang Josephine in Cannes to ensure the salon was ok. There were the usual day-to-day issues but nothing her manager couldn’t handle. Lizzie then got her diary and notebook to make a list of what she needed to do.
For a start, she listed what she could do then a list of what Sophie and the manager would have to do. Ideas for the new salon were next, well the start. As she began thinking about it, more new ideas were coming and she needed to rein some in. She had to be realistic about the budget and the timescale. Then the marketing plan. Again, budget and timing were crucial. Her plan, a large campaign from end of August to mid-September for when, they hoped, the new salon could launch. Advertising the new treatments for a new branding of Beaute Dedans Clinic, with every treatment available under one roof in Rue Antibes, was exciting.
But she very much looked forward to Sophie being involved and working with her.
She filled pages with her lists, ideas and notes, even small illustrations to jog her memory. It was over an hour later when she heard Thierry cough, then realised she hadn’t started any dinner. Both Thierry and her mother were sure to wake up hungry.
Putting the kettle on and pulling out from the fridge a rather delicious cream cake she had bought at the local bakery, she placed it on a cake stand in the centre of the table. Entering the lounge, Thierry was tucked up asleep against his gran and Lizzie pulled out her mobile to take a photo. It was a scene beyond the scope of her imagination just one week ago. It prompted memories of her with her grandfather. She would love him to be here now. She was glad though that her mother and son had taken to one another. Was it now going to be difficult to part these two she wondered?
Chapter 21
Meeting Monsieur Henri, the notary, was not as easy as Sophie hoped. He rarely seemed to be in the office to begin with and then when she finally made an appointment it was through his secretary. His office was in a high-rise block off Rue Antibes. Carrying her paperwork in an A4 folder, she waited for the lift and a few minutes later, entered. She pressed third floor as the secretary instructed and waited for the doors to close. Just as they began to draw in, a figure ran in, setting her heart racing.
‘Six etage, sil vous plais.’ It was a voice she instantly recognised as she pressed the number six on the panel. Charles Pitt-Barker. He stood still as he observed her. His eyes squinted at her but didn’t seem to register.
‘Hello Charles?’
‘Ah…erm yes…yes.’ Charles’ brows furrowed.
‘Sophie,’ she reminded him, waiting for a sign of recognition from him. The lift stopped.
‘Oh, yes, yes I remem….’ The doors opened.
‘Good to see you again.’ Sophie gave a disappointed wave as she stepped out.
‘Yes,’ he managed as he watched her stride off.
What bad luck she didn’t meet him outside the lift she thought.
***
Monsieur Henri, almost as wide as he was tall, greeted Sophie with a fat, sweaty palm in the reception before taking her into his office. Her patience was running thin as she had waited twenty long minutes over the appointment time and received no hint of an apology. His small, beady eyes lacked warmth and did nothing but repulse her. She guessed, by his sloppy professionalism, he was getting on for a big fat retirement package and had no inclination to be helpful or care about his clients. He led her to a dusty chair and flicked his hand for her to sit, which she did. She explained her purpose articulately and swiftly, not wanting to be in his presence longer than necessary. He browsed the copy of the draft lease she’d reluctantly handed to him and frowned into it. He looked over his glasses at her then back to the paper in his hand.
‘Non, non.’ He shook his head. He continued reading and, reading. ‘D’accord. Ok, yes I raise enquiries and send to you.’
‘Well at the moment the issues are as I’ve listed there,’ she said, stabbing her finger at the paper in his hand, ‘and, you may have more. I feel there is room for negotiation. If you don’t agree, then please say so. I will not waste your time.’
‘Leave it with me and I will call you.’
‘How long will you take? We wish to be in a soon as possible,’ Sophie enquired, losing confidence.
‘I will call you.’
Frustrated at his abrupt manner and service, Sophie stood to leave, biting her proverbial tongue. She motioned to turn but then rashly reached over his desk and reclaimed her papers.
‘Please don’t put yourself out, Monsieur.’ She marched out of the offices and out to the lift. What a waste of time he was. There was no point in paying a slimy slug to do a stallion’s job. Notaries weren’t cheap.
Inside the lift she let her finger hover over the number six. She felt an impulse to see Charles once again, otherwise she could leave here and never see him again. She scrunched her nose and clenched her fists. Would he think she was chasing or stalking him? Mmm, yes rather childish, she told herself. She hit the button for the ground floor Foyer. Once outside the lift she inspected the listings board at the entrance to find out which company was on the sixth floor. If she knew his company, she could find a phone number and an excuse to call him. She noted the law firm and spun round on her heels, crashing straight into Charles.
‘Wrong floor was it?’ he said, seemingly more recovered.
‘Ahhh,’ she squirmed. ‘No,’ she said, flustered at being caught. Thinking quickly, she said, ‘I…I was looking for another notaries’ office to deal with a commercial property lease. The one I’ve just spoken to doesn’t inspire much faith.’ It was an understatement.
‘Commercial leases are pretty rigid here in France. Any lawyer can deal with it, mainly because there is very little leverage.’
‘Oh really?’
‘Yes, I deal mainly in family law, but possibly I can help?’
‘Well, I have a copy here of the draft and a copy of the enquiries Lizzie and I wish to raise. If you could have a look at it, we’d be very grateful. And,’ she said pursing her lips, ‘we are kinda in a hurry which, slimy slug up there was not!’
Charles gave her an assessing squint. ‘Ok, on one condition?’
‘Oh.’ Her eyes searched his in excited anticipation and lots of lust.
‘You leave this with me today so that I can read through it and the queries and you let me take you out tomorrow night to discuss it.’
‘Tomorrow? What’s on tomorrow?’ She asked, mockingly raising her eyes.
‘Well if…’ Charles began.
‘Tomorrow’s fine,’ she smiled, just tell me where.’
***
The following evening, after speaking to Lizzie and updating her on how her meeting went with the notary, Sophie was now eagerly filling her in on her accidental meeting with Charles. Lizzie couldn’t help but feel the exuberance in Sophie’s voice transport itself down the phone. She was pleased of course. Anything which kept Sophie in Cannes was a bonus and of course, Charles seemed a very sweet man, a little detached for her liking, but pleasant and obviously Sophie was highly smitten with him from the very first time she clapped eyes on him. Lizzie gave Sophie her blessing.
It had taken her almost two hours for Sophie to decide what to wear. As she emerged from the lift, Charles was waiting. She stepped out on the ground floor of Lizzie’s apartment building and couldn’t believe her eyes. Delighted he had made such an effort, she wolf-whistled inside her head. He was in a casual but beautiful navy linen shirt, which hung loosely from his firm frame yet tucked neatly into his stone-coloured jeans, giving a very stylish silhouette.
On her olive skin, a simple cream shift dress combined with hair wrapped up in a chignon style gave Sophie an elegant edge. He gave her the once over with his eyes too and said, ‘You look beautiful.’
‘Thank you, looking good yourself.’
‘I’ve got these new. Don’t get out much,’ he apologised. ‘I haven’t booked anything so is there anywhere you want to go?’
‘I’m new to Cannes. Lizzie normally leads, I follow so, I’ll go wherever floats your boat.’
‘Well that’s easy then, I’ll take you down the yacht club,’ Charles said, and they both laughed at the unintentional pun. ‘Joking aside,’ he said, rousing her with his alluring smile, ‘they always have delicious food on the menu.’
‘That sounds good.’ She sighed pressing lightly at her chest to ease her blood flow. ‘I shall trust your judgement.’
‘Well now the responsibility is on me,’ he grimaced.
‘Absolutely.’
They strolled down to the marina, chatting nervously. The air was warm and balmy and the sun now cooling. Charles smelled delicious and Sophie wanted to slide her arm into his and claim him as hers as passing females looked on in admiration.
When they reached the yacht club, the marina was full to capacity with sailing vessels, masts bobbing gently in the Mediterranean waters. Outside on the terraces diners chatted
. Inside the bar was lively, with groups and couples fashioned in casual evening wear and passionate discussions. Sophie at once felt at ease as Charles was acknowledged by staff and regulars as he led her in. For their dinner, they both opted for and enjoyed the plate du jour.
Whilst engaged in conversation and sipping Champagne afterwards, Sophie sensed eyes on her from a table close to the bar. She tried to look from the corner of her eye without turning. He was with a female, quite young, beautiful. Finally sliding her head around, his eyes were unmistakable. Anton nodded with a smile and she replied with a conciliatory wave.
Charles followed her stare. ‘Do you know Anton D’Aramitz?’ he asked.
‘Not really. My friend Lizzie used to know him.’
‘Yes, he seems to know most women in Cannes. He might be ‘yachty totty,’ Charles continued, ‘but he’s actually known as Capone de Cannes.’
‘Why Capone?’
‘He’s quite notorious for having his mob behind him everywhere he goes. They’re just impressionable youngsters really. Like to think they’re hard-core gangsters or mafia. I don’t really know what else he gets up to other than bribery. That’s come from a more non-official channel of course.’
‘A pest too. Unfortunately, he is Lizzie’s son’s father. And, he’s recently found out,’ Sophie added. ‘He keeps calling at the salon wanting to talk to Lizzie but she’s in England with Thierry.’
‘Ah, right.’ Charles wiped his lips after sipping his drink, remembering that Cal had mentioned something briefly about an ex of Lizzie’s.
‘He knows she’s in England caring for her mother but it seems he is pissed off about his son going to England with Cal.’ Sophie looked at Charles.
‘I’m not going to cast any aspersions but I’m guessing he’s not concerned about the boy but rather his own pride is at stake.’
Sophie clapped her hand on the table. ‘It’s funny you should say that.’
Charles didn’t give much away to Sophie but Anton was a big name in Cannes and the sailing community and was not one for Lizzie to mess with. He had heard about some of his antics. History of drugs and bribery. It was not for him to intervene though. ‘So, tell me about your plans in Cannes?’ Charles was now keen to change the subject.