Guernsey Retreat

by Allen, Anne

  ‘Signorina,’ he said, smiling.

  ‘Luca, may I introduce my…daughter. I expect you to pull out all the stops tonight. I want to impress her!’ Malcolm joked.

  Luca’s eyes arched in surprise, but he only smiled and asked what they would like to drink.

  ‘I think champagne is called for, don’t you?’ Malcolm asked Louisa and she nodded, pleased at the compliment but unsure if it was justified. Who was to say they would get on?

  Within moments two flutes and a bottle of what looked to her like a particularly expensive champagne arrived at their side and was poured with a flourish.

  They clinked glasses, calling out ‘Cheers!’

  She let the bubbles tickle her nose and took a sip. It had been ages since she’d tasted champagne, not the usual fare of a low-paid physio.

  ‘Delicious, thanks. What would you recommend on the menu? You probably know it backwards!’

  He chuckled. ‘Sure do. Fortunately they change it monthly or I might have to consider going elsewhere. Fish is always good here and my favourite’s the Dover sole.’

  Sipping her bubbly Louisa scanned the menu, finally making her choice of duck to start, followed by the Dover sole. Malcolm placed their order and sat back in his chair, nursing his glass.

  ‘You know, never in a million years did I expect to be in the company of my own daughter. I still haven’t taken it all in. After we parted yesterday I couldn’t get you out of my head. Found it hard to concentrate on my meeting, I can tell you! Haven’t a clue what I said to the guy. All I could think of was you – and your mother.’ He leant forward, patting her hand. ‘I’m really, really sorry about what happened to Susan. If we could go back in time, I would have done things so differently.’ He shook his head sorrowfully. ‘But the good thing to come out of this awful business is that we’ve now met. Something that may not have happened otherwise.’

  ‘Yes. As far as I know Mum hadn’t tried to find you for years. I got the impression she imagined you settled somewhere, just as you said about her. We’ll never know if you two could have got back together. I guess you’d both changed a lot since…’ She trailed off, feeling shy of the thought of them together. As a couple.

  Malcolm tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, a far-away look in his eyes. He turned his head, finally focusing on her again. ‘I would have loved the chance to find out,’ he said softly. ‘I was a stupid, bloody idiot…but,’ he said, sitting up straight. ‘Let’s not go there, shall we? We both need to focus on the now, not “what if”. No mileage in that.’ He smiled and she noticed again how his eyes crinkled up at the corners. At that moment Luca came up to take them to their table, nestling in a corner by the window.

  The aroma from their starters of duck and pheasant set her gastric juices flowing and Louisa tucked in with relish. In between mouthfuls she sipped the champagne, stealing glances at the other diners. Their table was set apart from other tables and she wondered why.

  ‘Is this your special table, Malcolm? It seems placed to give a good view of the room but be apart from everyone.’

  He chuckled. ‘You’ve guessed right. I love people-watching, it’s in the blood of any decent hotelier. But I like my space, too. Starter okay for you?’

  She nodded, savouring a mouthful of duck spring-roll. Mm, must be nice to be able to afford to eat regularly in a restaurant like this instead of cooking. Could get used to the lifestyle! When she had finished she asked the question uppermost in her mind.

  ‘Are you going to tell me about the jewellery and why that…horrible man wanted it?’

  Malcolm rested his knife and fork, his face clouding. ‘I will tell you, but here isn’t the right place. It’s…sensitive and not for other ears. If you like, we could have coffee at my apartment after dinner and I’ll explain everything. Okay?’

  ‘Yes, I can go with that. Perhaps for now you could tell me a bit more about yourself and how you ended up in Canada?’

  Malcolm allowed the waiter to clear away their plates before answering. ‘It’s quite a long story so I’ll give you the short version for now.’ He took a sip of champagne before continuing, ‘My mother, Betty, was forced to flee Guernsey with Archie after my father, Roland, was killed…’ he described what had happened.

  The waiter returned with their main courses and after he left Louisa asked, ‘Your mother must have hated Archie for what he’d done. How on earth did she cope living with him?’

  He grimaced. ‘It was awful for her. She didn’t tell me everything, but hinted that he threatened her with violence if she tried to leave or go to the police. Remember, she was pregnant with me, had no money of her own and no-one to turn to. But she did insist on separate bedrooms and he reluctantly agreed. They passed themselves off as brother and sister, my mother claiming to be a widow. Which in a way she was. Fortunately for her, it was only a few months later that Archie was called up to fight, just after I was born. Ma told me he tried to get out of it, but he passed the medical and was sent off for training.’ Malcolm’s face split into a grin. ‘It was the best thing that could have happened. Once he’d gone, Ma used her savings to obtain berths for us on a ship evacuating children to Canada. My father had a distant cousin in southern Ontario where they had planned to go after their wedding. She never saw or heard from Archie again.’

  ‘Wow! That’s some story. Your mother was some brave lady! What happened after you arrived in Canada?’

  ‘We were taken in initially by my father’s cousin, but apparently he made it clear that it was only until my mother could find her own place. I don’t remember him, as Ma moved a few months later to Sarnia as housekeeper in a hotel. The cousin had put in a word with the owner, a friend of his.’

  ‘Sarnia? That name rings a bell.’

  Malcolm smiled. ‘It’s the old Roman name for Guernsey and Ma chose to live there as a way of being closer to her old home. It’s near the Great Lakes and had a huge petroleum industry so hotels were busy. My mother eventually opened up her own hotel, using savings and her canny eye for a bargain, the first of several over the years, all in Ontario.’

  ‘So that’s how you became involved in the hotel business?’

  ‘Yep. I learnt at Ma’s knee, you might say. All my growing up was in hotels, either ones where Ma was the housekeeper or, later, ones she owned. It seemed like the natural career for me.’

  As Louisa enjoyed the tasty sole she mulled over what Malcolm had told her about his early start in life, and in particular his enterprising mother. With a shock she realised Betty was her grandmother. Oh, I would have loved to meet her! What an interesting life she had. Although her maternal grandmother had loved her, she was not what would be termed warm hearted, as Malcolm’s mother seemed to have been. Betty sounded the sort of grandmother who would have spoilt her. She sighed. She would have loved to be part of a bigger family.

  ‘Something wrong with your fish?’ Malcolm’s voice cut into her thoughts.

  She shook her head. ‘No, it’s perfect, thanks. I was just thinking what a pity it was I never knew your mother. My grandmother. My maternal grandmother’s also dead.’

  ‘I’m sure you would both have got on well. But…’ he spread his hands. ‘C’est la vie! I promise to tell you more about her and show you some photos. We both have her eyes. Now, can you manage some dessert? They conjure up one of the best crêpe Suzettes I’ve ever tasted, but it’s for two,’ he said, smiling. ‘As I’m usually eating on my own it’s a rare treat to be able to order it. Would you indulge an old man’s whim and join me?’

  She laughed. ‘I’d be happy to. You can’t eat healthily all the time!’

  There was an element of theatre in the production of the crêpes, culminating with the final flourish of the addition of flamed brandy. The taste lived up to expectations and she felt pleasantly replete after the last mouthful.

  ‘Delicious, thanks.’ She patted her flat stomach. ‘I’ll swim a few extra lengths tomorrow to burn it o
ff.’

  ‘Me too! Sounds like we share a love of swimming. That’s good. I always stay in hotels with swimming pools so I can have a daily swim. For me it was a priority to build one for the centre, not just for the guests but for me as well.’ He called the waiter for the bill and Louisa thanked him for the meal. He brushed aside her thanks.

  ‘It’s been a great pleasure, my dear. I trust it will be the first of many such evenings.’ He smiled broadly, patting her arm.

  Luca’s goodbyes were as profuse as his greetings earlier and it seemed to take forever to leave the restaurant. As Louisa settled into the comfort of his car, Malcolm asked if she still wanted to go back for coffee.

  ‘Sure.’ I want to know why those jewels were so important that they cost my mother her life.

  chapter 9

  Malcolm’s apartment was literally two minutes from the restaurant. Within easy walking distance, normally he didn’t need to drive. He liked living in Town, he could walk to any part of it within fifteen minutes. The walk home was uphill and it was a measure of his fitness that he never returned out of breath.

  After parking in the underground car park, he escorted Louisa to the lift for his penthouse. He still couldn’t quite believe that he was about to invite his daughter into the apartment. Until yesterday he’d had no idea that she even existed, whereas Louisa had known for years about him. Or at least the idea of him. As the lift purred its way to the top, he thought of Susan, the lovely woman who’d had his child. If only his mother had not fallen ill at that time…Although he’d had a good life, he often felt the lack of something, someone. Initially, he’d thought it was the loss of his mother in her fifties. Too young. Their bond had been close, but not claustrophobic. It was her idea for him to spend time working in London.

  ‘You need to breathe your own air, son. Do things and learn things that I can’t teach you. You’re thirty now, time to come out of my shadow and try a different path. You might decide you don’t want to be an hotelier…’

  ‘Don’t be daft, Ma. I can’t think of anything better. I’ve loved every minute of working by your side. You’ve taught me the business too well for me to want to try something different.’

  His mother nodded, a pleased look on her face. At fifty she was still a very attractive woman, her blue eyes and fair hair drew admiring glances from much younger men. But she didn’t seem to notice. She had an on–off relationship with a guy from out of town who “visited” at irregular intervals, but it seemed to suit her. Malcolm guessed that Betty liked being independent too much to settle permanently with a man.

  They were eating dinner together in her private suite and his mother looked thoughtful as she sipped her wine. ‘If you’re serious about staying in the hotel business, then why not go to London and get a managerial position in a top-notch hotel. Just for a couple of years. When you return we’ll open a luxury hotel or two ourselves.’ She fixed him with her penetrating gaze. ‘Could be fun.’

  ‘What, going to London or opening luxury hotels?’ he replied, laughing.

  ‘Both, of course!’

  Betty hadn’t lived to see him open his first luxury hotel in Toronto. When he’d rushed back from London she was in the final, debilitating stages of ovarian cancer. Although they’d been in regular contact by phone while he was away, she had never once told him about her illness. His shock soon turned to despair when he discovered there was nothing to be done. His wonderful, loving, hard-working mother died weeks later.

  As the lift reached its destination, Malcolm smiled at the woman he knew his mother would have adored. Louisa’s answering smile was guarded, as if she wasn’t quite sure about him. He sighed inwardly, it might take time but he was determined to make their relationship work. There had to be some good come out of Susan’s untimely death.

  ‘Right. Please come in.’ He pushed open the maple wood door, switching on an array of lights from a central control.

  Louisa’s eyes opened wide as she gazed at the marble flooring and pale wood panelling of the hallway. He strode ahead into the softly-lit enormous, open-plan living/dining area, beckoning her to join him by one of the floor to ceiling windows. She followed his gaze and gasped.

  ‘Oh, how beautiful! What a fantastic view of the marina and the islands. If I lived here I’d spend all day just gazing out of the window.’

  Malcolm grinned. ‘That’s what I did when I first moved in. There’s a terrace too, see? Too cold now, but great when it’s warm.’

  She nodded, staring out at the terrace bordered with glass and stainless steel and furnished with tables and chairs. Huge pots, filled with date palms and lit from inside, glowed with a soft blue light. It was enchanting.

  ‘This is some place you have here. It looks pretty new. Is it?’

  ‘Yes, I was lucky. These apartments were being built at the time I bought La Folie and was looking for my own place in Town. I bought this off-plan so I could choose the finishes. Made life a bit hectic once we started upgrading La Folie, but I found a great interior designer to work on both projects.’

  After guiding Louisa to one of the two enormous sofas, he headed into the kitchen to make coffee. He hadn’t used half of the fancy appliances his designer insisted he absolutely needed, but the jazzy coffee machine was a constant joy. Moments later he joined Louisa on the sofa, bearing two cups of aromatic coffee.

  ‘Thanks.’ She took an appreciative sip and grinned. ‘You may not be much of a cook, but you sure make a mean cup of coffee.’ Putting her cup down on an intricately carved wooden coffee table she asked, ‘Ready to tell me about those jewels?’

  ‘Not only will I tell you, I can show them to you if you like.’

  Louisa’s eyes opened wide. ‘They’re here? I assumed they’d be in a bank.’

  Malcolm got up and headed towards the hall. ‘I have a safe in my study. Back in a minute.’ His study, originally planned as a bedroom, adjoined the master suite and the walls were lined with shelves crammed with books. A lifetime’s collection, they had been shipped over from Canada when he moved in. But his pride and joy was the massive mahogany partner’s desk that had originally belonged in La Folie. The previous owner, Hélène Ferbrache, had included it in the sale, not knowing it had once belonged to his father. It was part of the furniture that came with the house when her parents bought it after the war. A bit battered, Malcolm had restored it himself and now the wood glowed against the old leather top. Walking over to one of the bookshelves he pressed a concealed button. A shelf swung out, revealing the safe. Controlled by iris recognition and guaranteed bomb-proof, it offered him total security. He removed two velvet bags, closed the safe and returned to the sitting room.

  He found Louisa sitting mesmerised by the flickering flames of the floating fireplace set in the wall.

  Malcolm opened one of the bags and pulled out a necklace. Louisa gasped as the firelight reflected sparks off rubies and diamonds, creating the illusion that it, too, was on fire. Two pear-shaped rubies the size of walnuts formed a central drop pendant hanging from a collar of smaller diamonds and rubies.

  ‘May I?’

  ‘Of course.’

  She picked it up cautiously, as if it would break in her hands. Looking up, she said, ‘I recognise it from the photo, but it looks much more beautiful in the flesh. Is it very old? The setting seems a bit old-fashioned.’

  He chuckled. ‘You could say it’s old. Late eighteenth century, actually. And it was from India, belonged to a Maharani, wife of a Maharaja.’ Catching her look of amazement, he continued, ‘I’ll explain. It’s a bit of a long story and, I’m afraid, doesn’t reflect too well on my – our – ancestors.’

  Bending over the table he took a matching pair of earrings from the first bag and then opened the second. He lifted out two gold objects, heavily encrusted with emeralds, diamonds and rubies. ‘This is the turban ornament belonging to the Maharaja. Here, have a look.’

  Louisa held the larger one first. Shaped like
a peacock’s feather, it was studded with “veins” of emeralds against the white of the diamonds. Pear drop emeralds hung from two golden hooks at each end. Picking up the second, looking like a pin brooch, she stroked the enormous central emerald, surrounded by diamonds, and hung with a large drop pearl.

  ‘I can’t believe this! If these are real they must be worth an absolute fortune.’

  Malcolm leaned back with his cup of coffee. ‘Oh, they’re real all right. Had them checked out by an expert in London. One who didn’t ask too many questions,’ he replied, tapping his nose. ‘That’s why I had them with me when I was dating Susan. My great-grandfather was working for the British East India Company when a number of Indian rulers rose up in revolt in 1857. At that time the East India Company weren’t just traders, they were political rulers and the princes, understandably, didn’t like having their power usurped. Most of the old Mughal empire had been annexed by that time, hence the massed revolt.’ He took a long sip of his coffee as Louisa sat wide-eyed on the sofa. ‘The jewellery and artefacts belonging to the defeated Maharajas were sent to Britain and presented to Queen Victoria. However, some found its way into the pockets of the Nabobs, the high-ups in the East India Company, one of whom was my great-grandfather. Roland told my mother the story, passed down the family, that great-grandfather, Albert Blake, amassed quite a fortune while out in India. He scuttled back to England when the British government took control in 1858, kicking out the East India Company.’

  ‘Wow! That’s some story. So what happened to my great-great grandfather Albert?’

  ‘Apparently he stayed in England long enough to find a bride and then came over here and built La Folie. With his ill-gotten gains. I gather there’d been rumblings about officials lining their pockets and old Albert thought it was best to be out of sight, but didn’t fancy the tropics. My father was born in La Folie in ’99 and the family still lived very well off Albert’s shrewd investments.’