Table For Eight

by Tricia Stringer

  “Do you really believe it would come to that?”

  Christine faltered under Ketty’s scrutiny, desperately searching for an answer. “He’s so easily led by a good-looking woman,” she blustered. “He could waste it all on Josie.”

  Ketty tilted her head to one side as if she was pondering Christine’s words. “You need to decide if your concerns are truly for your father’s wellbeing or about your own.”

  Christine’s mouth fell open.

  “Hello.” Frank stepped past Ketty into the coffee shop.

  “Hello, Frank.” Ketty’s smile returned. “Time is getting on. It’s been lovely chatting but I’d better go down for my medical appointment or I’ll be late.” She leaned down and patted Christine’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll come to the right decision. See you at dinner.”

  Christine glared after her. She could strangle the woman! Was she suggesting Christine only cared about Bernard for his money?

  “What decision?” Frank squeezed in beside her, his long legs bent up so that his knees touched the coffee table.

  “Nothing important. That Ketty is the most abominable woman.”

  Frank looked across the room. “I thought she was quite sweet. She’s usually so caring of everyone. Maybe her arm is giving her trouble. Pain can upset people.”

  “There’s hardly anything wrong with her arm. I suspect it was never that bad to start with.”

  Frank gave her an odd look. “I saw your dad in the corridor but he was ahead of me and by the time I reached the lifts he’d disappeared.”

  “No doubt scurrying off to meet Josie.” Christine wasn’t worried about her father now that he’d committed to the renovation money. She’d pin him down for the details before the cruise was over but if he wanted to have a final fling with his floozy, she wouldn’t deny him that. Christine had made it perfectly clear she knew what he was up to, and she knew he wouldn’t take his dalliance with Josie any further than this cruise. She had her own relationship to work on. She turned her smile on her husband. “What shall we do in Noumea?”

  Celia looked out over the blue water of the bay sparkling in the sunshine. There was a gentle breeze but inside the waiting room of the tour office only a lazy ceiling fan ruffled the air. She was still feeling a little nervous that she had committed to a half-day of sailing. When Jim had invited her to go with him on the tour his son had booked, she had been surprised he wouldn’t go on his own, and then she’d felt a little glimmer of hope that perhaps he truly wanted her company. Finally the nerves had kicked in. She wasn’t sure how she’d go for several hours on a small boat. It was something she’d never done before. She’d taken a tablet for seasickness just in case.

  She glanced across at Jim seated nearby, peering at his phone. They’d both been taking advantage of the free wi-fi. Celia had discovered emails from her sons and sent quick replies. There’d been another message from a friend at home who was looking after her unit and several junk emails she’d deleted. Jim appeared to be studying something closely; there was a crease across his forehead and he was intent on the screen. He shook his head, muttered that’s it and then looked up.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I knew I’d seen him somewhere before.” He shuffled across into the empty chair between them and held his phone out.

  Celia studied the face on the small screen and realised he was familiar. She took the phone from Jim so she could scroll and read the print below the photo. It was a lot of ins and outs of a court case but she sucked in a breath when she read the part about women having some of their money siphoned away. When she looked up Jim was studying her closely. “Should we be concerned?” She handed the phone back.

  “I don’t know.” Jim tucked his phone into the waterproof bag at his feet. “It was a while ago now.”

  “Perhaps we could talk to Josie, or maybe it should be Ketty.”

  “I don’t feel as if I know either of them well enough to broach it.” Jim pursed his lips.

  “I don’t either. I’d hate to spoil someone’s happiness by casting doubt that may not be warranted.”

  “Bonjour everyone, hello.”

  They both looked up at the man standing in the middle of the waiting area. He wore a battered captain’s hat and a colourful shirt as bright as his smile.

  “I am your guide today, Captain Enzo.” He tapped the clipboard he held. “Let me check I have everyone and then we can set off for your day in paradise.”

  Celia was already enchanted by his smile but the French accent was what really took her interest, her concern over Jim’s discovery and her fears about sailing dissipating with every word Captain Enzo spoke.

  Bernard sat at one of the little cafes with a view across the bay beyond but he was oblivious to the soft blues of the water lapping gently against the white beach and the hazy sky dotted with puffs of cloud. Around him other customers chatted, but Bernard remained intent on the coffee mug he gripped tightly between his hands, staring into it as if the solutions he sought would magically appear in the swirls of milk.

  Ever since his dinner with Christine he’d been in turmoil. He hadn’t been able to face Josie. He hadn’t trusted himself to be able to act normally. Instead of meeting her as he’d planned, he’d bought two whiskys and headed to the small deck at the front of the ship on his cabin level, fairly sure it was a place where no one would look for him. He’d leaned on the rail, the breeze much stronger there. It had helped cool his anger but not his thoughts. He’d steadily worked his way through the two drinks then he’d slipped back to his cabin and lain on his bed in the dark, unable to sleep.

  He’d pictured Della’s excitement matching his own the day their daughter was born. They had both been besotted with the little human being they had made together. He was shocked to think that Christine imagined her own mother hadn’t loved her enough, but a little part of him knew there was an element of truth in it. Della hadn’t fallen pregnant again after Christine, perhaps an early complication of the cancer that ultimately claimed her, he wondered now, but whatever the reason there were no more children.

  Della compensated by throwing herself into creating a comfortable home environment while perhaps holding Christine a little at arm’s length. Bernard knew that was because she had been frightened of losing her only child. They were both responsible for the woman Christine had become. Della not giving enough love and Bernard trying to make up by giving too much. He’d fallen asleep with moisture in his eyes recalling the loss of his wife and woken early feeling as if he hadn’t slept at all.

  This morning he’d come ashore in Noumea as soon as he could, hoping to avoid anyone he knew, and taken a taxi to this more distant part of the island where once again he felt sure no one would find him. He drained the remains of the coffee and drank a glass of water. He’d had three cups of coffee since arriving at the cafe and knew he should have no more. Perhaps an early lunch so that the staff didn’t want to move him on.

  He caught the waiter’s attention and ordered a croissant, not feeling hungry but knowing he needed some food in his stomach to absorb the coffee that sloshed there. The scrap of paper he’d been writing on fluttered with the breeze but the pen held it in place. It hadn’t been until after the second cup of coffee that he had decided to jot down his thoughts and possible solutions. Christine was written at the top with several exclamation marks.

  Last night at dinner she had surprised him, angered him, and now all he felt was overwhelming sadness for their relationship that had gone so horribly wrong. And yet she was his daughter. He may not like her right now but deep down he knew he could never stop loving her, this person who was the result of his and Della’s love.

  The next name on his list was Josie and then he’d written money and investments followed by a roughly drawn love heart. What he’d thought might be merely a holiday fling had turned into something more. He loved Josie. He knew she would be wondering where he was. She’d be hurt, upset by his avoidance of her but he had to make
sure there would be no loose ends before he explained everything and put himself in her hands. He hoped she would still want to be with him but there were no guarantees.

  Underneath her name was that of his broker Jack and the words post office with a question mark. He stared at his rough writing, and as he did, his thoughts began to make more sense and a resolution formed. He wasn’t going to give up on Josie without a fight.

  The waiter returned with the food and Bernard asked him where the main post office was. The young man marked it on the tourist map for him.

  Bernard studied the map a moment then took up the pen and wrote the name of his lawyer, underlined it and took out his phone. The untouched croissant sat cooling beside him as he dialled the first number.

  Thirty

  Ketty smiled brightly at her two companions as they alighted from the little train that had toured them around Noumea. Poor Josie’s usual spark was still missing and Leo had done little more than murmur at the grand design of the cathedral or the historic architecture of the colonial houses – a particular interest of Ketty’s – and he’d barely glanced at the magnificent views across the city to the many bays and nearby islands.

  “Come on,” she said with forced cheer. “Time to find the patisserie I promised.” She strode ahead of them across the road as the lights turned to green and on up the narrow street to a little place she’d visited on previous trips to Noumea.

  Josie exclaimed behind her as they stepped inside and even Leo became interested at the sight of the glass cabinets filled with cakes and slices of every description; from chocolate eclairs and mousse and cream-filled cakes, to fruit tarts and colourful macarons, there was something to tempt everyone. Small round tables and wooden chairs furnished the eating section, which was broken up into separate areas by plants, low walls, room dividers and statues, making each table setting a little apart from its neighbour.

  The patisserie was busy with customers, some tourists like them, and others locals, placing their orders in rapid French. It took Ketty’s little group a while to choose. Once they were happy with their orders, she found them a table tucked between a large potted palm on one side and a room divider on the other.

  “I hope their coffee’s good,” Leo said as he brushed at the table-top that had looked perfectly clean to Ketty.

  “It was when I was here last.”

  “I do envy you your travels, Ketty.” Josie settled herself on her chair. “I’m going to cruise more, I’ve decided.”

  “Humph.” Leo’s snort was soft but disapproving nonetheless.

  “You’re enjoying yourself,” Josie countered.

  He turned his gaze to Ketty. “That’s because I’ve found the woman I loved and thought I’d lost. It’s because of Kathy, nothing to do with the cruise.”

  A warm flush swept over Ketty. He’d hardly spoken a word all morning and here he was professing his pleasure at being with her.

  “You’re very lucky.” Josie glanced sideways as the door opened letting in another group of customers. She’d been flinging that searching look about all morning and Ketty knew she hoped to find Bernard but they hadn’t caught a glimpse of him. Josie turned back. “Tell me how you two met. I’ve heard nothing about your young days together. Was it love at first sight?”

  “It was for me.” Leo looked steadily at Ketty.

  Most people were sceptical that such a feeling could truly exist but she had felt the thrill of love and been captivated by Leo from their very first meeting. “And me.” The words croaked from her mouth and Ketty cleared her throat.

  Their coffee and cake arrived, interrupting the conversation that was far too personal for Ketty’s comfort but no sooner had the waitress left than Josie began again. “And when was this? Before you met Marjorie obviously, Leo.”

  Ketty stabbed her small fork into her strawberry-covered tart, wondering how she would possibly get the food past the lump that had formed in her throat. From the corner of her eye she could see Leo trying to tackle his chocolate eclair.

  “You’re both very reticent to speak up. Surely you didn’t have an affair.”

  Ketty and Leo looked at each other. She knew her face must mirror the guilt she still felt but his look was brooding.

  “Oh no,” Josie gasped. “That’s it, isn’t it. That’s why you’ve been so secretive about your relationship. You had an affair.”

  “Keep your voice down, Josie,” Leo growled.

  The sounds of the patisserie floated around them but at their table there was silence. Leo’s jaw was clenched and he turned a glowering look to his sister. Ketty tried to shrug off the guilt that flooded her. After all, she hadn’t been the one to knowingly have an affair.

  “None of it matters now,” Leo said. “It’s in the past and there’s no need to rake it all up.”

  “And there’s no need to be so defensive,” Josie muttered. “I always knew you weren’t a saint.”

  “That’s rich coming from you.”

  Brother and sister were so busy sparring they didn’t see the couple emerge from behind the screen beside them but Ketty did, and the tiny piece of tart she had swallowed soured in her stomach. Christine and Frank had obviously been enjoying the wares of the patisserie as well. Frank said hello as they passed and Christine gave only the briefest nod of acknowledgement but there was a gleam in her eye and a smug look on her face. Ketty wasn’t sure if it was from seeing Josie without Bernard at her side or because she’d been eavesdropping on their conversation. Either way it left her feeling cold.

  Josie sat back, her delicate cake untouched. “I’d like to wipe the smile off that young woman’s face,” she said once they were gone.

  “What young woman?” Leo had barely given the Romanos more than the slightest acknowledgement.

  “Christine Romano.”

  “She’s not that young.”

  “She’s nearly half your age, Leo,” Josie said.

  Ketty took a sip of her coffee. Her perfectly planned day out in Noumea was going from bad to worse.

  “Anyway, where were we?” Josie leaned in again, her voice lower this time. “I want to know more about your relationship. You two met when Leo was still married to Marjorie?” She winked at Ketty. “I can’t imagine you as the other woman.”

  It was all too much for Ketty. “I didn’t know your brother was married.” She felt the need to defend herself even though that put Leo in a poor light.

  He grasped her hand and squeezed it. “It’s true. I didn’t tell Kathy anything about my life with Marjorie. I had fallen out of love with my wife by then but…well, I didn’t want to lose Kathy. It was weak of me, I know.”

  His voice was full of remorse but his eyes held a different emotion, perhaps annoyance. Ketty didn’t want to be having this conversation either, not while Josie was with them.

  “I know it’s not caring to say it but I’m glad to hear you’re not perfect, Leo.” Josie put her head to one side, locking her eyes on her brother. “You always made me feel I was the only one to stuff up relationships.”

  Leo shook his head and Ketty extracted her hand. This was all too much. Her life was not one that she allowed to be inspected in the open by other people. Not here with Josie eagerly taking it all in. She shifted in her seat but felt no more comfortable. “It was a difficult time for both of us.”

  “Ketty lost our baby.”

  Josie gasped. This time her eyes were full of sorrow when she looked at Ketty. “That’s so sad. How far gone were you?”

  Ketty opened her mouth but no words came. It was as if Josie’s concern had opened the lid on the grief she’d thought was dealt with and she was lost as the desolation consumed her all over again.

  “It was only a miscarriage,” Leo huffed. “Marjorie had one after our three kids were born.”

  Josie frowned. “Those little babies that died were your children too, Leo.”

  “Hardly. They weren’t even human at that stage. Besides Marjorie had three healthy kids who needed lookin
g after but she went on and on about the—” he held up his hands in disgust “—baby we lost as if it was real.”

  The knife that was stabbing inside Ketty twisted. She took a gulp of water, her coffee and tart untouched.

  “Poor Marjorie,” Josie said. “You were away a lot for work then, weren’t you?”

  “I had to build my business to pay for all these children. As it was, Marjorie ended up with the house and most of the money. Child support nearly killed me.”

  Ketty stared at Leo. She’d never seen this cold side of him when they’d been together, not a sign of it. Now his good looks appeared harsh; his jaw jutting, his eyes narrowed, his cheeks a ruddy red. Had she been naive or had the years changed him?

  Josie shook her head. “You won’t get any sympathy from me. I got no support from Carl. I raised my boys on my own.”

  “I helped.”

  “In the early days, yes, and I’m grateful for that, but I’ve paid you back many times over.”

  He glared at her, opened his mouth then took a slurp of his coffee instead of speaking, as if he’d thought better of it.

  Josie turned a sympathetic gaze to Ketty. “Obviously my brother was no help. Did you have support through the miscarriage and getting over it?”

  Ketty glanced at Leo but he stared steadily into his coffee cup. She had planned to tell him the whole story but when they were alone and the time had felt right. “I didn’t think my parents would understand, although in hindsight I probably misjudged them, didn’t give them a chance to help. My brother was overseas but I had a very good friend who supported me.”

  Ketty jumped as Leo’s hand hit the table. They all looked around but no one appeared to be taking any notice.

  “Settle, Leo,” Josie said. “You accused me of being too loud.”

  “I know I was a married man,” he huffed. “But I wouldn’t have remained so for much longer if you’d stayed, Kathy. I would have left Marjorie much sooner.”