One Moment At Sunrise
Karen Aldous
‘Gloriously escapist, wonderfully entertaining and absolutely impossible to put down! Sure to appeal to fans of Cathy Kelly and Erica James.’ – Bookish JottingsNothing will ever be the same again…Evie Grant has spent two years hidden away in a quiet French village, longing to escape her beautiful villa with its blue-shuttered windows. Maybe this summer, the father of her child will keep his broken promises and return to whisk her away to another life. One way or another, Evie’s determined to stop feeling like his dirty little secret…Yet when a mysterious stranger almost knocks Evie off her bicycle early one morning, her world begins to change in ways she never expected. Embarking on a painful journey of self-discovery, Evie begins to face her darkest fears and rebuild her fragile dreams. But can she ever truly break free from her gilded cage and learn to love again?Praise for Karen Aldous:‘A story of relationships, love and the importance of family, a romantic tale that leaves the reader with a glow.’ – Postcard Reviews‘I could have been lost in this book for months on end and I wouldn't have noticed the days slipping by…’ – Becca’s Books‘Light, easy to read and entertaining, perfect for a summer holiday read.’ – Portybelle‘A perfect book for these final summer days, to indulge in with a glass of wine or two.’ – Paris Baker (Amazon Reviewer)‘Escapism with more than a touch of reality…Karen Aldous is an author that you need on “auto order”!’ – Crooks on Books‘A great holiday read – quick, easy and entertaining!’ – Ginger Cat Blog‘Gently paced and seductively built…a great summer read.’ – Brizzlelass Books‘Gloriously escapist, wonderfully entertaining and absolutely impossible to put down! Sure to appeal to fans of Cathy Kelly and Erica James.’ – Bookish Jottings‘Fascinating, heartwarming, engaging, romantic and utterly compelling.’ – Sparkly Words
Nothing will ever be the same again…
Evie Grant has spent two years hidden away in a quiet French village, longing to escape her beautiful villa with its blue-shuttered windows. Maybe this summer, the father of her child will keep his broken promises and return to whisk her away to another life. One way or another, Evie’s determined to stop feeling like his dirty little secret…
Yet when a mysterious stranger almost knocks Evie off her bicycle early one morning, her world begins to change in ways she never expected. Embarking on a painful journey of self-discovery, Evie begins to face her darkest fears and rebuild her fragile dreams. But can she ever truly break free from her gilded cage and learn to love again?
Escape to the south of France with One Moment at Sunrise, an irresistibly compelling new story from Karen Aldous – the only book you’ll need this summer!
Also by Karen Aldous (#ulink_aabe7a97-7218-5b14-aeb1-6cfd4cbbfceb):
The Vineyard
The Chateau
The Riviera
One Moment at Sunrise
Karen Aldous
Copyright (#ulink_a26a1431-7cc0-5d26-9afb-39937fc03bc8)
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2016
Copyright © Karen Aldous 2016
Karen Aldous asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © April 2016 ISBN: 9781474049634
Version date: 2018-09-19
KAREN ALDOUS
enjoys village life on the edge of the North Downs in Kent with easy access to the buzz of London. Not only does she love the passive pleasures of reading and writing but also craves the more active pursuits of walking, cycling and skiing – especially when they involve family, friends, food… and wine!
Much of Karen’s inspiration comes from her travels. The UK, France, Switzerland and the USA are just some of the places you’ll be transported to in her books, but wherever she goes, new characters invite themselves into ‘Karen’s World’ screaming at her to tell their stories; strong independent women who are capable of directing their own lives – but struggle to control them… especially when temptation strikes!
As a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association and The Write Place, Karen feels she owes so much of her success to the love and support of her fellow writers.
You can follow Karen on Twitter at: @KarenAldous_
From a few simple words on the internet, the obsession grew to tell the French-Pyrenean peasant women’s story and how they became involved in Pierre-Paul Riquet’s vision for the beauty that is now the Canal du Midi. For all her meticulous research, I heartily thank Chandra Mukerji for her academic work Impossible Engineering; a theoretically significant study which provided such insight and knowledge so as to allow me to spread further recognition for the peasant women’s genius and involvement in such a monumental project.
For Mike and George Slee, a special mention and thanks for kindly taking time out to read and offer expertise. I’m just sorry you didn’t get the whisky before having to suffer that first draft.
And of course, to my lovely editor, Charlotte Mursell, and the team at HQ Digital, HarperCollins – a huge, huge thanks for all your patience and support.
With love Macy, Hayden, Spencer and Penelope
Contents
Cover (#u827c12d1-5e2e-593e-bdd7-748b6ed756d5)
Blurb (#u4c6f0bc9-0982-5274-874c-6dccad2bfd7a)
Book List (#ulink_2c84975e-ed8d-5f9f-bce6-77faa2b79386)
Title Page (#u703c16eb-1d0b-5d76-ada4-b2c518e07f64)
Copyright (#u773634bb-68fa-53e9-ab88-8c866ba8adb6)
Author Bio (#u34505d66-340a-57df-b1ff-f954634d09fa)
Acknowledgement (#u36a148fc-4ae6-5437-87f0-7a1a48a141a4)
Dedication (#u750d6163-8c04-561a-bc28-96b42fce86e7)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_a7dca05e-d154-5d5a-b4d4-148249a25c37)
Chapter 2 (#ulink_3385a8db-8e58-5407-acaa-2264c781df92)
Chapter 3 (#ulink_4476eec2-75c3-567b-aebb-3542d9478bf9)
Chapter 4 (#ulink_856fa27e-440d-54a0-a7aa-b2a405310b2d)
Chapter 5 (#ulink_810af615-e6d4-507c-822c-837676907590)
Chapter 6 (#ulink_399f83ac-9cb5-56c7-87eb-48a42ecc9dde)
Chapter 7 (#ulink_f069c455-340a-5235-9d65-befe6dbd22a4)
Chapter 8 (#ulink_ca67603d-60dc-5f52-a1db-cdfc028784b7)
Chapter 9 (#ulink_6cc18587-b721-5cc2-b655-9d7de8afb1b0)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 33 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 34 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 35 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 36 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 37 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 38 (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_b6df68cc-c6ca-52da-8002-64073ee5b31f)
Evie Grant stamped her foot on the pedal, the wheels of her bicycle whirring through the silence of the Canal du Midi dawn.
‘Why do I always let Seb Wilde call the shots?’ she muttered through gritted teeth. Canal boats slumbered as she approached the Capestang Bridge, even the calm waters reflecting gold-crimson hues from the early morning sky failed to comfort her. She swiped another tear and, stretching out a leg to balance, almost kicked over a plastic bollard. She groaned, thinking how many times he had broken promises before, and as she thrust her foot again on the pedal, a vision of Seb’s face screamed beneath.
She clicked down two gears and sped up the bank, gaining momentum as she mounted the bank. As she reached the bridge, she peered up. But too late. In front of her appeared enormous black shire horses. Two of them were hurtling straight into her path, their hooves deafening as they struck the surface of the bridge. Instinctively, she squeezed on the brakes and steered her handlebars to the edge. The low stone wall offered little support but was all there was between her and a drop into the canal.
‘Oh God. No. Charlotte!’ she screeched her daughter’s name as a beast neared. His heavy chest was now feet away.
Fear ripped through her as she scrambled one leg across the wall gripping for life whilst forcing her body forward to balance and the other leg squeezing against the base of the wall as the bicycle tipped towards the canal. Panicked and helpless, she shrieked.
‘No, please no. Charlotte.’ Evie gripped the handlebars with every ounce of strength she could as she buried her head, the giant body mass and hooves thundering beside her with no room to move. With the thrust, her knee jerked, scrapping down into the wall whilst she tried to maintain the grip. Her body remained rigid, inertly taking the full brutality of the momentum as the horse slammed past. Pain took her breath as the frame shook between her legs.
‘Aaargh… Char…lo…tte…’ With her teeth clenched so hard, she could barely say her child’s name. What would happen to her child? Aware that the horses were pulling a carriage, Evie retained her position, fearing its enormity as it approached. The wheels ground towards her. She was going to fall and drown. Tightening her grip with her legs, she dared to keep one hand compressing the handlebar whilst reaching with the other for the solidness of the stone wall. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed every muscle, and closed her eyes as the thud of the hooves petered, but the roar of the carriage wheels grew louder. Evie pressed her weight once more into the parapet, gritting her teeth and maintaining a grip on the bike but bracing herself for a final push. This was it, it was sure to hurl her over what was no more than a foot of stone. Who knew what was in that water? She must grip the wall, let the bike fall. She couldn’t panic. She won’t panic. Keep calm, keep calm. In her head, she rehearsed a flip of her body to free the bike. She had to lift and kick… let the bike go but grab the wall. Stay calm. The carriage lurched past.
Several seconds later, as the thundering subsided, realisation dawned. Miraculously, thankfully, she wasn’t in the canal fighting for breath and life. She peered around, still bent at an angle, dangling mid-air over the canal, a bright shard of light blinding her. Letting go of her chest, she wailed, ‘I’m alive.’ A poignant mix of straw and leather punched her nose. She let her head drop down. A rush of saliva slid from her mouth as she exhaled and numbness turned to pain.
‘Aarghh…ch. Thank you God… or whoever’s on duty. I’m alive.’ Movement caught her eye. A white knuckle loosened its grasp on the back of her seat. Searching, she met deep brown eyes glistening back. A calmness swept through her.
Keeping the frame of the bike within control, she allowed her wounded leg to restore its weight to the ground. The stranger reached out to steady her, clutching her shoulder. As she levered the bike upright, the mass of the weight was lightened by the aid of the knuckle owner. The thumping in her chest slowed and she blew out a heavy breath as she found both her feet and steadied herself on the handlebars.
‘I can’t believe I’m still here,’ she muttered to the man as she smoothed her face with her hand to confirm her existence. Then her lips began to tremble with relief and, in a blink, her eyes stung and released uncontrollable tears.
Trying to choke them back, she swallowed. ‘Thank you, I…I… I’m sorry, I should have been paying more attention.’ Her hand reached her helmet. Her fingers ran to her chin and unclipped the clasp, removing the helmet from her head. ‘Phew, sorry, I’m a bit shaken, my daughter still has a mother.’
‘That was a close call. I hope you’re all right?’ the male figure holding the saddle of the bike finally said, as a small assembly gathered.
Turning, she swept a clammy hand over her forehead. ‘Relieved, oh, so relieved. I can only think you must have stopped me from tipping over the edge,’ she sniffed, glancing at the buckled wheel of her bike. The stranger leaned it towards him to take the weight and pulled a face looking down at her leg.
‘Are you ok? Your leg looks nasty. That was some grip,’ he clutched his collarbone. But, well done, you saved yourself. I didn’t do much. Didn’t need to… You’re shaking, I think we should sit you down and get that leg looked at, there’s a medic here – somewhere,’ he frowned as he scanned the crowd.
Feeling her knees wobble, she nodded. ‘Yes. I need to sit down.’
With an arm still gripping her shoulder, her helper signalled with his head of dark unruly curls, ‘Jamie, here. Where’s Carl?’
The lad leaped forward, reaching for the bicycle, and shrugged. ‘Gone to get his bag, maybe?’
‘Ok. Bring the bike and ask Trevor to check the warning boards.’ He waited for the lad to take the handlebars, then, steadying her at the waist, held out his other forearm to Evie. ‘Hold on to my arm. It’ll keep you steadier.’
‘Thanks.’ She took the arm gratefully and, sheltering her eyes from the low rising sun, insisted, ‘I don’t need a medic. It’s a graze that’s all.’ As she stepped forward she felt weightless after all the muscle power she’d used in the last few minutes. She certainly appreciated a strong arm to prevent her legs buckling though, and his was definitely that. But then her senses began to return. She frowned as she looked up to him. ‘What warning boards? There were no signs on the path. Oh, a bollard. There was a… What’s going on?’
‘There are signs up to warn the public that this is a working film set,’ he said leading her slowly across the remainder of the bridge and on to the road the other side of the canal bank.
Evie wiped her nose. ‘Too right there should. Those horses sprang up from nowhere. Jesus. At least cars have brakes!’ she burst, but then tried to recall. She hadn’t seen the signs, if she had, she wasn’t paying them any attention. She’d been thinking about bloody Seb. She squinted and lightly shook her head. All she could think was, she had never been so close to death, and she was desperate to sit down. She could cope with a throbbing in her leg.
As they neared a canal-side café, a shorter man with thinning hair came towards them whilst another man carrying a white case with a red cross ran up from behind. Evie clung to the stranger’s arm, leaning on him as he halted.
‘Trevor, could you check the warning boards around the set. I’m not convinced they’ve been displayed correctly. Check every entrance to the bridge, check that they’re up and in the right place. I don’t want them on film.’
‘Yeah, sure.’
He turned to the younger man with the case ‘Carl, we’ll just sit her down here.’ He pointed to the café.
Carl, who Evie assumed to be the medic, spoke quietly, his eyes a piercingly light grey. ‘I saw what happened. Ben was fast. Tell me about any pain you have?’
‘Only a graze and shaking. I’ll be fine. Bit shocked I suppose.’
‘Understandably.’ The medic’s voice was calm and trusting… unlike his eyes.
Evie frowned and peered back up at the darker, more handsome stranger the medic called Ben as they ambled towards the empty cafe. ‘So, what? You’re filming a period drama or film?’
‘Well that was a rehearsal. We have to re-surface the bridge for authenticity but yes.’ The man smiled down at her, the proximity of his luscious full lips – revealing beautiful teeth – unleashed a gasp from her own, now numb and parched. She wanted to look away but found herself mesmerised. Unlike the cold of the medic’s eyes, Ben had the warmest seductive eyes which, she could hardly believe, stirred dormant flutters inside her. Something Seb Wilde rarely did nowadays on his sporadic visits.
Evie felt her cheeks glow.
He broke the stare and looked ahead, seemingly ignoring her reaction. ‘I’ll tell you all about it when we sit down. That was our production co-ordinator, Trevor, who I hope will now ensure it doesn’t happen again.’
‘It shouldn’t have happened a first time. I could have been killed.’ Evie’s senses were becoming clearer and her tone rattled. She was sure no signs were at the bridge entrance. She remembered a bollard. Of course, this wasn’t a normal occurrence on the bridge. Since when did horses and a coach rumble over it?
‘So, are you in charge here?’
He scooped his fingers through heavy locks. ‘I know it shouldn’t have happened. I agree. I’m extremely concerned. I suppose the producer takes overall responsibility but I can’t apologise enough, believe me.’
Then Ben stopped under a canopy on the café terrace. She was surprised it was open so early He pointed to a front table.
‘There’s a good spot. Let’s get you seated.’
The medic raced ahead towards the table.
As piqued as Evie felt, it was hard to be angry with him. He was hardly to blame, when she was the one not paying enough attention and, not only had he helped save her but he was surprisingly attentive. She gazed at him as he took her elbow, he had soothingly seductive eyes. Oh, but… hadn’t she fallen for that surface charm before. Of course, he was being polite out of guilt, to sweeten her, just as Seb… exactly like Seb. She swallowed and stood firm.
Now feeling embarrassed, she loosened her grip and shuffled in front of him and, feeling her legs re-align, she decided she was capable.
‘Look, it is only minor damage. I think, I’ll head straight back.’
He pressed his hand lightly on her other arm. ‘Please, I suggest you sit down and recover from the shock, besides, that bike isn’t rideable. I’ll take you home. Let me at least get you a drink and make you comfortable, it’s important that you are ok. The bike I can replace.’
Evie’s eyes turned from his gaze to the table again. She stepped back to let him lead. ‘Five minutes then,’ she said, scraping back her hair with one hand and toying with her thoughts. She followed, noting his wide shoulders as they weaved through empty dining tables. His navy polo shirt hung loose but she imagined his spine curving to his trim, belted waist… her eyes trailed downwards to his sexy taut behind and perfectly proportioned legs. What was she thinking? Evie scolded herself as she approved the designer watch on a strong forearm; she’d just experienced the nastiest drama of her life, so how was it possible she could even think about a man in this way?
‘I’m Ben by the way,’ he announced as they came to a stop at a table. The waiter laid serviettes, while the medic arranged the chairs.
‘Sit down here,’ the medic instructed with a long pointed finger.
Ben swung round and as she lifted her gaze, dark-lashed eyes roved her face then fastened on her own eyes for several seconds, firing rapturous ripples through her veins. Belatedly she took his hand and shook it.
‘I’m Evie,’ she managed, clearing her throat, the sun glinting between them.
‘Delighted to meet you, Evie,’ he said, his lip curling up at the edge. ‘Tell me what you would like to drink?’
‘A cool orange juice, please. I feel in need of sugar.’ Evie said, sitting back to savour the view. The trembling began to subside. Wasn’t it bizarre that just moments ago, she’d been staring death in the face and now, suddenly, here she was, on a beautiful dawn, in a café she had longed to visit, with a very handsome stranger who was making a film. Surreal came to mind. This was a somewhat fortuitous treat. She had never sat at this beautiful canal-side café before. Perhaps she was dead; witnessing herself being seated in a sumptuous chair, admiring the enchanting Capestang Bridge and the Canal du Midi from this angle, rather than perched on a rough-grass bank with a sandwich, gazing enviously at the diners.
Carl laid his bag on a chair and reaching in, lifted out a small box.
‘Is it ok if I take a look at that injury?’
‘It’s just a little sore. Bruised maybe?’
‘I’ll clean it up and have a look. Put your leg up here.’ He tapped a chair opposite her, took out a small packet and, tearing off the top, slid an antiseptic wipe between his fingers and knelt down, dabbing her wound.
‘It’ll be fine.’ Evie couldn’t decide if a doctor was really necessary. Painful and bloody as it was, the damage was nothing more than grazing, she was sure.
She felt Ben’s eyes resting on her as Carl tended to the side of her calf.
‘I’m really sorry about all this,’ Ben reaffirmed with sincerity.
Evie met his gaze. ‘Don’t apologise. I’m so glad you caught me.’
As Carl washed over the wound, she gritted her teeth. It was more painful than she thought. Ben’s face screwed up a little and Evie found herself increasingly uncomfortable at all the fuss. Whilst Carl appeared detached and duty-like, Ben seemed genuinely concerned – possibly responsible, she thought as he scratched his chin. Perhaps it was harsh comparing him to Seb. Not once had she seen that look of concern in her partner’s eyes.
She watched the medic wrap the dirty swab and poke it into a clean plastic bag. The wound now throbbed.
‘I’ll get some ice brought over,’ the medic said, standing and pulling out his phone from his trouser pocket and immediately began texting.
Evie let out a chuckle. ‘I’m alive, that’s all I care about. And, as long as you make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else, I’ll leave it at that. And, somehow I must have missed the sign.’
The medic replaced his phone and unpeeled another antiseptic wipe, dabbing her skin again gently. ‘I’ll find a dressing to keep it clean but you have a nasty bruise. The ice should bring it down quicker.’
Ben sat back and rubbed his thighs. ‘Ok. So, you said you have a daughter. You called her name a few times.’
‘I’m sure I did, that’s all I could think about. My gorgeous little Charlotte. I can’t imagine life without her, she’s all I have.’ Evie gave Ben a sideways glance but felt her muscles go rigid. She shouldn’t have said that. It could invite questions. She changed tack swiftly. ‘So, what are you filming exactly?’
‘It’s the story of Pierre-Paul Riquet. The man who built the Canal du Midi. His life story and the challenges he had to overcome.’
Evie shoulders relaxed a little as she sat back in her chair. ‘Yes, makes sense. I should have guessed. Sounds fascinating! I’ll definitely be watching. He was quite the visionary. And it took a lot of money, time and expertise to get it completed. I love the fact that so many women were involved, and that the peasant women from the mountains had such an influence in the design. I hope you’ve included their story too.’
He scratched his head. ‘Well it’s more about his quest to get authorities and nobles to listen to his ideas, he had quite a battle to realise his dream. Even went against them and worked in secret.’
‘Oh, so it’s all about the men. Why are the heroes all male? I suppose that’s how you get the bulk of the viewers. Yes, Riquet should take credit for the overall initiation and the design of such a monumental achievement, but the Fonserannes Lock would never have worked without the expertise from the peasant woman. I think their inclusion would make it far more interesting.’
Ben’s eyes were suddenly distracted. ‘Ah,’ he peered up as a young woman approached the table. ‘Samantha, this is Evie.’ He stood up. ‘This is my second AD, assistant director.’
The assistant handed a package to the medic. ‘For the patient, I presume?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
Evie immediately wondered if she and Ben were a couple. The girl was about her own age, possibly a little older, and she had the most beautiful long golden hair which spiralled down her back – almost touching her miniscule denim shorts. Samantha held out a tanned arm, offering a welcome hand.
‘Hi Evie. Gosh. That was scary. How are you?’ the assistant said, shaking her hand and immediately squatting to inspect the wound, her lips pouting one way and then another. ‘Mmm, fierce, you’ll have a nasty bruise.’
As Samantha examined her leg, Evie observed Ben. He watched his assistant step back as Carl positioned the ice. Evie blushed and reached for her glass.
‘Sam’s also our first-aider,’ Ben said. ‘She likes to mother.’
Samantha looked at Evie, ‘Take no notice, but you are trembling. Make sure you rest here for a while just to recover from the shock.’ Samantha tossed her head at Ben, rubbing her palms. ‘I can sit here with her.’
Cracking one knuckle with his other hand, his eyes glistened as he glanced from Evie to his assistant.
‘No, I’ll stay here with her and then run her home. Inform Daniel and Ravi. I think Gaz is in the van. Ask him for a form. I’ll start a report? I’m surprised he hasn’t got wind, but let him know, and can you tell the guys to break for an hour, then prepare to run through it again. They can then muck the road. Thanks. And thanks for getting here so quick.’
‘No problem.’ Samantha smiled. ‘Lovely to meet you, Evie. I hope you’ll be ok.’
Evie nodded. ‘Yep, fine. I’ll be off shortly. Bye and thank you.’
After waving her off, Evie said to the medic, ‘I can hold that ice on?’
‘It’s fine. You relax,’ he instructed, winding gauze around the ice on her leg.
‘Are you sure you won’t have another drink?’ Ben asked, ‘… Unless,’ he paused ‘would it be possible to take you out for a meal one evening?’
Again, the blood rushed to her cheeks as their eyes locked. Biting her lip, she said, ‘I’m sorry, my partner wouldn’t approve.’
‘Ah. When you said Charlotte was all you had, I obviously misunderstood but, fine, I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.’
Evie met his eyes with nervous approval. The rhythm of her heart started increasing. Had he really just asked her for a date?
Chapter 2 (#ulink_f718df18-2f71-577f-9653-a7fdbd4b90f5)
Evie was still trembling when she climbed into the passenger seat of Ben’s 4x4, but noticed she felt weirdly invigorated. The accident must have pumped her blood so fast, she could only imagine her veins had stretched. Or was it that she was so happy to be alive? Ben placed her bike in the back before sliding in next to her wearing a comforting smile.
‘Are you ok?’
‘Yes, fine. I live in a village on the canal, do you know Colombiers?
‘Ah, maisoui! Tres beau.’ His smile flashed straight to her heart.
Maybe it was this man who was bringing her alive. He must have meant a date. What else? No one had asked her for a date since Charlotte, or since Seb at least. Although out of the question, it would be nice. Seb rarely took her out on proper dates when he bothered to come home. It would be magic to be romanced.
Those first weeks when she and Seb had met in Majorca were amazing. Seb had kept eyeing her whilst she’d served drinks at the Puro Club in Palma, joking and teasing, mainly flirting. Despite his forwardness, she’d enjoyed his attention and had found him savagely sexy. Not only that, she’d felt unbelievably special. She’d been singled out. Almost every girl in that bar wished they’d been in her shoes. He was the star, devilishly handsome, famous and, to boot, when he sang, his voice had rampantly resonated through to her soul. So it didn’t take long before she’d fallen for his easy charm and succumbed to his lair; in fact, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They’d spent many glorious days together, either lying idly in bed, making love, or lazing around the pool at Seb’s luxury harbour-side apartment, on the beach, or driving up to the mountains in his jeep, fine-dining on beautiful terraces. How she missed those days, missed Seb. He just wasn’t the same guy she’d met then. He’d spent time with her then. She could only hope he’d get bored with his music and come home.
She breathed out a heavy sigh and scooped back her hair.
Again Ben’s eyes met hers, his mouth curled to one side. Clasping her chest as it fluttered uncontrollably, she couldn’t believe such a small movement of the lips and eyes could create so much energy.
‘Well, before I so clumsily asked you out,’ he said, turning forward again and peering through the rear-view mirror, ‘and the reason I’d like us to talk is – I quite like your suggestion, about the peasant women, I mean. We are still in the early days of filming, and I’m wondering whether I should include a few more characters. I think it would be interesting to look at another dimension. I need to speak to the other producers. It would take more funding but you could be right.’ He turned again as she stared at him, open-mouthed.
The glint in his eyes zoomed straight into her limbs as though Tinkerbelle was sprinkling fairy dust. ‘So, are you the writer?’
‘Yes, I’m the director, one of the producers too, and did write the script. Call it my baby. It’s well supported by the funders, but now I’m questioning whether I’ve done it justice. I would be interested to hear what you know.’
She guided him to her home as he drove, her head still in a cloud of mist, and with a smile she could barely contain. He had been paying attention to what she had said and, evidently, liked it. At least enough to want to consider possibilities. When had anyone expressed interest in what she said?
‘Well, I don’t know your script but… oh,’ her hands joined together as if in prayer whilst her adrenaline intensified. ‘I don’t have all the details to hand, but I certainly remember reading about it. I’m sure I could source the book again.’ Evie chewed on her lip wondering where she had read it. ‘I studied journalism so I enjoy a bit of investigation.’
‘Really, that’s great. Would you consider doing some research? I’d pay you, of course.’
Hiding a smile, her hand flew to her mouth; eyes wide and fixed on his profile. The film business paid well. She was dreaming, of course she was. A gorgeous film director asking her for a date and to carry out research for his film. She must have banged her head. Wake up, wake up. She jolted herself back to the moment.
‘Oh, stop. Sorry, down this track here,’ she told him, pointing to her right, ‘and drive to the end. My house is at the bottom.’
That was a lie. It wasn’t really her house was it, it was Seb’s. For Charlotte. What did she have? What had she done for herself and her child?
Ben ruffled his curls with one hand and looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I know you’ve just had a terrific blow, but when you feel better perhaps we could chat some more.’
Evie swallowed hard. It was real! She’d barely got off the ground as a journalist before having Charlotte, so this was way over her head but… what a great opportunity, as well as a personal challenge.
‘Yes, it sounds exciting. Oh, just pull up here.’
Ben slowed and steered his large vehicle between a wall and some shrubs. ‘I’ll get the bike sorted out and returned as soon as I can. I’ll bring it back here, yes?’
‘Yes, I definitely need that. Thank you.’ Evie said as he parked at the end of the leafy track. She opened the door as the car halted in front of the gate and swung her legs out, and before she’d jumped down, Ben was there taking her hand. Stepping down, she could have been floating.
‘Here’s my card,’ he said sliding it into her hand. ‘Ring me if you are worried about anything and think you need to see a doctor. And, when you’re fit, I’d love to talk. Again, my apologies for what happened.’ His hand slid naturally to her arm, patting it gently to reassure her. Blood rushed to her cheeks and her skin shivered warmly at his touch. She stepped back, pulling away her hand, scared by her reaction.
‘No really, I should have been paying attention.’
His mouth twitched as he hesitated, then turned with a wave of his hand. ‘Take care.’
Tucking his card in her shorts pocket, Evie just managed to maintain her balance and dashed across to her neighbour Suzanne’s, unable to contain the excitement, not just at the insane bubble of film glamour this man had welcomed her into but also at seeing her daughter. Thank God she was alive. More alive than before in fact and feeling… well, just feeling!
Suzanne drew back the door with a smile. As soon as Evie stepped in, she raced to the floor by Charlotte’s side and whisked her into her arms.
‘My baby, Mummy’s back and safe. We’re together.’ She smothered the little girl’s flaxen hair and bewildered face with kisses. ‘I’m so glad to see you.’
Suzanne closed the door and rushed up behind her. ‘Whoa, what happened to you?’
Evie got to her feet, cradling Charlotte. ‘So sorry Suz. I am just crazy right now. Crazy with love for this little lady. I’m so lucky. I will explain once I get to grips with the fact that I am still here, with my daughter.’
Suzanne stood rubbing her shoulder and looking confused at her friend’s extreme animated behaviour. ‘I’ll make you a drink,’
‘You’re a sweetie. Thank you.’
‘I’m mystified.’ Suzanne blazed a quizzical frown and marched off.
Evie kissed Charlotte’s hair again and watched her friend. The only person she’d got to know since moving into Seb’s villa over two years ago was the diminutive titian-haired neighbour. They’d met when Charlotte began walking at eleven months. Suzanne and her husband Bram were Dutch. They lived in a sweet little cottage, next door but one, and they’d been converting the run-down cottage adjoining them to rent out. Bram, a local chiropractor, had often swapped his work-whites for old jeans in his spare time whilst Suzanne spent most of her Fridays and weekends cleaning holiday lets close by. Only married for two years, and not having children of her own, Suzanne took great pleasure in having Charlotte around; even looking after her once or twice. Evie was quite proud and didn’t like to put on her. Not that she ever had anywhere to go, alone. And, as Charlotte and Suzanne adored one another, she preferred it when they could all spend time together. She enjoyed having someone to talk to, particularly an adult. It was hard to admit, but her relationship with Seb wasn’t turning out to be all she’d dreamed, and when he’d texted this morning, once again letting her down, Suzanne intuitively rushed over, hearing her shriek. It was Suzanne who had insisted she go out for some fresh air this morning after seeing her upset.
Once Evie’s exhilaration subsided, she wiped tearful eyes and sat down with Charlotte on her lap. Suzanne brought her a tall glass filled with homemade lemon and ice and sat beside her, listening as Evie recounted the drama.
‘Oh my dear, now I understand,’ Suzanne reached out and embraced her. ‘You must have been so frightened.’
‘Yes. It really shook me up. Thank God I didn’t have Charlotte on the back of the bike. It was lucky for us you insisted Charlotte stay here. I was so angry with Seb. You must have suspected how upset I was.’ Evie pinched her nose with embarrassment.
Sitting back and taking Evie’s hand, Suzanne looked concerned. ‘I could hear he had got to you.’
Charlotte pointed to the floor. ‘Baby.’
Suzanne crouched to the floor, picked up Charlotte’s dolly from the floor and placed it in her hands. A gleeful chuckle spread across the little girl’s face as she squeezed it to her chest.
‘You hide it so well, Evie. I’m so glad I’ve never met your partner. I don’t think we could ever be friends. He is so inconsiderate leaving you so long alone.’
Evie sighed, rolling eyes at herself for displaying her disappointment to Suzanne earlier. Suzanne was her friend, the last thing she needed was her to become involved in her and Seb’s relationship. If she discovered who Seb was, Suzanne could be tempted to go to the press. That side of their relationship had never been put to the test.
Back home, Evie lowered Charlotte gently down in her cot for her nap and swiped a warm kiss on her daughter’s pink cheek. She covered her with a light cotton sheet then, yawning, opened a window to let in the breeze and slumped into what she affectionately named the nursing chair. She slid her legs onto the footstall. It always reminded her of an old person’s chair, high-backed with wings but comfy nonetheless. Intent on just watching her infant, within seconds her eyes drooped. The cage – as she’d aptly named the house, even before Seb installed metal bars at the numerous blue-shuttered windows – for once felt refreshingly welcome, although it still never felt like home. It lacked that family vibe. In the early days here, Evie had imagined they would be more like a family by now, spending more time together, but it became less. She’d also hoped that her family would have accepted Seb by now, but that divide was wide enough to require a suspension bridge to cross it. She rarely imagined this beautiful villa as a refuge, but after today’s events she felt overwhelmingly grateful to be here safe, and with Charlotte out of danger. But then fear whipped its tail in her face. What if she had been killed, who would look after Charlotte?
Seb was the natural candidate but often so far from home. She decided she would have to discuss an emergency strategy with him and ensure somebody had Seb’s contact details. Seb led a parallel existence touring the world, singing and partying, it was likely he would probably hire some inadequate nanny. She shivered at the idea. But who else? Even if she hadn’t been killed, she could have been seriously injured, which could mean Seb would leave her with a nurse. She wondered if he would even bother to contact her family. Apart from a highly stressful visit on Charlotte’s first birthday, her parents and sister had all but disowned her because they found him vile. Maybe they had been right about Seb all along. Maybe he was just keeping her sweet. No, Seb did care. He was just busy. Vulnerability crawled into her skin. She would have to have some sort of emergency strategy, just in case. Maybe Suzanne was best placed to deal with any emergencies close to home.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_9cf7d179-49c3-5a91-9f2b-98fbd370ef07)
Evie must have dozed off because the next thing she knew she was being woken by her phone buzzing. She reached for her rucksack, snatched her phone from the pocket and dashed to the landing expecting it to be Seb, ringing up and apologising for this morning. She pressed the button and made her way down the stairs.
‘Hello,’ she said in a cheerless tone.’
‘Evie, how are you, and Charlotte?’ Cally’s voice blasted into her ear.
Mirroring the upbeat sound, she said. ‘Erm, very well, thank you. This is a surprise Cally. Unusual to hear from my big sister.’ Evie couldn’t believe the lively pitch of her own voice. Cally and she weren’t at all close. Quite the opposite in fact. There must be something wrong, she concluded. Something has happened to make her call.
‘That’s so lovely to hear. I’ve been meaning to call you for about a month,’ her sister continued. ‘It’s been chaotic. I wondered if you’d mind me coming over to see you both. And of course, it’s Charlotte’s second birthday next week.’
Evie felt her heart swell. At least she remembered. ‘Well,’ she coughed, still swallowing the surprise, ‘we haven’t seen you for such a long time. Yes. It would be nice to see you again.’
Cally took a paused breath. ‘Are you sure? Only I know I’ve been a bit harsh on you.’
A tinge of suspicion rose in Evie’s chest. She licked her lips. ‘Cally, nothing’s changed but I’d like to think we’ve both grown into adults who are capable of respecting how we each lead our lives. If you are just coming to judge and labour my past decisions, then don’t bother. I don’t want you here just to…’
‘Evie, I thought we could try to get along, even be friends. And, yes, I do have my reasons, I have to confess; I am worried about Mum’s health.’
‘They’re ok though, aren’t they? Mum and Dad?’
‘To be honest, Mum sounded pretty bad on the phone last night and it shook me a bit.’
‘Her asthma you mean?’
‘Exactly. I thought the whole idea of living in Florida was to improve her asthma but maybe she had a cold or something, she was rasping heavily.’
Evie felt the lump rise in her throat. ‘Oh God, she’s not going to die is she?’
‘No. Well, I hope not. I did get a bit scared. And, it sounds selfish considering I haven’t been the best sister, but I felt in need of support.’
Holding her head, Evie was tempted to blurt out that, like their parents, Cally had never offered her support since Evie had been in France… but she held her tongue. ‘No. You are right to ring me. I should ring them, and share the responsibility.’
‘Well, I’ve been going through some… let’s just say I’ve been thinking about us a lot lately, and I really feel we need to patch things up. I’ve come to realise life is too short and I need to make some changes. If you’ll let me?’
Evie’s chin jutted towards the ceiling. This was so out of the blue. Her sister had all but disowned her in the past, when she had virtually begged her for help when she was pregnant. Cally had sided with their parents, in the same vein, denying her even an ounce of support or understanding. ‘Perhaps we should both try to make amends. That is if you can overcome being ashamed of me.’
‘I’ve never been ashamed of you, Evie. Jesus, I didn’t know you thought that. No, like Mum and Dad, I thought you made some bad choices. One very bad one, but you and Seb have obviously proved us wrong. I regret saying that now though and… well, I really miss my family. And I promise I will be polite to Seb.’
A silence sliced the air as Evie collected her thoughts and wiped her cheek.
‘Well let’s not run up your phone bill – yes, come. I’ll bake a lovely cake. Charlotte would love it too. She may not remember you but she loves company. We will look forward to you coming.’
Cally sniffed a few times and replied. ‘Thank you Evie. I’m sorry it’s been so long and, I know, it’s tragic. She’ll forget she has an auntie. I’m so sorry, I’ve been so busy.’
‘Oh, don’t, it’s ok. I presume you’re still clubbing in Majorca?’
‘DJ’ing, yes. God, I’m so tired all the time but I’m taking a few days off so, if that’s ok, I’ll come next Tuesday about lunchtime, then stay till’ Thursday morning. Will Seb mind?’
‘He’s away but I’ll look forward to it. See you Tuesday.’
‘Ok. I’ve got the flights in front of me and I’m booking them now. See you next week.’
Her hands shaking, Evie pressed the finish button and stared down at the device, her heart confused but at the same time brimming with tenderness. Her sister cared enough to call and was really coming to see her. Ok, she had reasons, but neither she nor her parents had instigated it – which meant Cally had actually thought about them both, and remembered Charlotte’s birthday. As sisters they’d never really got on. Cally being the elder, by three years, typically she’d resented Evie being around her, especially when with her friends. She had regularly mocked Evie for being so stupid. Evie believed it until she excelled at her English composition, the polar end of her sister’s talent scale. The maths genius of the family. Cally was the straight-A student who must have swallowed a calculator because she just seemed to shoot figures out of her head and topped her crown with a first at uni.
Their parents, Jill and Steve, despaired of course when Cally announced she was off to Europe DJ’ing. Then, after hearing that Evie had got herself pregnant, they must have abandoned all hope for their girls. Evie sighed, reflecting momentarily on that particularly ugly episode of her past – aware that her mother couldn’t face the village gossip, or listening to how successful the other children had become. Evie couldn’t wait to wake up Charlotte and tell her the good news. What a day! She dashed up the stairs two at a time, feeling on top of the world for once. From near death to meeting a handsome stranger, and now Cally was visiting!
Chapter 4 (#ulink_3f22262c-b124-545d-ab2b-a060808dbcb7)
After checking all the signs at the entrances to the bridge, Ben returned to the café at Capestang. His legs wobbled more so now than earlier. Slouching in a cushioned chair, he wiped sweat from his beaded forehead and ordered a Pastis. Something bitter-sweet for his taste buds. How would he have ever lived with himself if anything had happened to that mother, never mind the consequences for her daughter? It had really brought it home to him – just how important it was to ensure an area was properly managed. It could have ended in complete carnage and put paid to the whole project. His biggest fear; years of hard graft, down the pan. But, he clutched his temple, a beautiful young mother could have lost her life. Had the mother not found that almighty strength today, she could have possibly been permanently maimed, or even killed. Her child could have been left motherless in so many ways.
A waiter appeared and laid down a square tissue, placing a glass on it and pouring a short measure of water into it.
‘Merci,’ Ben mumbled, adding more water before taking a gulp. The heat of the aniseed shot to his throat instantly, numbing it like he’d dived into freezing water.
‘Here you are,’ Samantha turned a chair around and positioned herself opposite him.
‘Oh,’ Ben said, gripping his throat, ‘you made me jump.’
‘I expect you’re still upset about that episode.’
‘Yes. It shook me up, I can tell you. It shouldn’t have happened. Thought I’d get a stiff drink before I got back. Thank God she’s ok.’
‘I’m with you there. She’s a sweet girl.’
‘That’s what I thought. Unassuming. I can’t believe she didn’t make more fuss.’ Ben said, recalling her strength and dignity, and how struck he was by her natural beauty.
‘Well lucky for us, she didn’t. I think I’d be grateful to be alive too from what I’ve heard. Jamie said it was pretty horrific, we’ve got the scene shot if you want to take a look. Anyway, the guys are ready to go when you are.’
Ben ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his forehead. ‘I don’t wish to see a replay, once was more than enough. I’ll be over in a minute then I’m going to drive into Beziers to find a bike shop.’
‘Ah, speak to Trevor, he will know where to go. Actually I’ll WhatsApp him.’ Samantha pinched her phone out from her gilet chest-pocket and began tapping her fingers on the screen.
Ben leant forward and grabbed his glass, the spicy aroma catching his nostril before he swallowed another mouthful of Pastis. Not as good as the first but still refreshing. It had eased the rattling nerves. He sat back again as he watched his assistant. She had every resource to hand, as always. He wondered whether he should run Evie’s idea about the peasant women past her. Perhaps it was too soon. He’d considered his script strong. His protagonist, Pierre-Paul Riquet, was a highly tenacious man and doggedly fastidious in overcoming every obstacle to get the Canal du Midi built. The backers liked it. His storyline contained plenty of conflict and meaty action. Riquet was a man of steel which contrasted so ironically with the softness of his heart; a family man devoted to his wife and five children and, for his time, mid-seventeenth century, admiringly committed to his workers. It was extraordinary to hear Evie’s take and Ben was keen to know exactly what history his books hadn’t disclosed.
Samantha’s phone wailed, jogging his attention. She scanned the screen. ‘Aha, he recommends a shop in St Chinian. Cycles Mari.’
‘Great stuff Sam, thanks. Ok. Are they ready? Let’s get this shot and I’ll get going. If it’s ok, while I’m gone, get the guys to carry on with shots of the buildings, vineyards or whatever is listed on the schedule. My head is not really on the task right now. Is that ok?’
‘Completely.’
Crashing past overhanging shrubs the following morning, Ben drove along the bumpy track to the gates where he had dropped Evie off. Out of the car, he peered through the tall iron gates facing the substantial two-storey villa with shutters drawn and little sign of anyone home. Checking the area around the gates, he located a bell and pushed it twice. As anticipated, there was no response. Back in the car, he grabbed his pad from the passenger seat and scribbled down a note asking her to call him with a suitable time to deliver her bike. He padded back over to the gates and searched for a letterbox or somewhere she would see the note. It was then he heard voices. Turning, he saw Evie pull a gate closed across the track, wheeling a buggy towards him. With her hair blowing in the breeze, and her glowing complexion, his pulse increased. What he saw was even more beautiful than he remembered. As she neared, he clenched each palm, one of them containing the note. He slid it into his pocket.
‘Hi,’ he said, feeling himself drawn to the shimmer of her eyes. ‘You look amazing. How do you feel today?’
‘Yes, good. Grateful to be alive, as you can imagine.’
‘Your leg?’
‘Sore, but fine.’
‘Good stuff.’ He knelt down to the buggy. ‘Charlotte, I presume. A beauty like her mother. Hello Charlotte.’
The little girl backed away, eyeing him with suspicion. She held her lips between her fingers.
‘If you’re wondering if I’m going to sue you, then don’t worry. You don’t have to be nice on account of me causing trouble.’ Evie said, catching him by surprise. He remained crouched as she continued. ‘Let’s just say we all had a lucky escape. As long as your people make more effort to cordon areas off, to be absolute certain no one is allowed to wander. I won’t make trouble. I take it that’s why you are here?’
Ben stood up and faced her. ‘Believe me, we won’t take any chances. I had nightmares last night thinking about what could have happened, and I wouldn’t blame you if you wished to pursue a claim.’ He held out a concerned palm. ‘I was told a sign was in place but it evidently wasn’t visible enough, so we are responsible. I’ve brought you a form to fill in to claim any damages.’
‘No. I just want to erase the whole incident.’
‘Your call.’ Ben stepped back towards the car. ‘And… I’ve brought this. I could have had it delivered I suppose, but I have a new bike for you. I’m afraid your bike was beyond repair. The chassis was weak and deemed unsafe.’
‘What, you bought a new one?’
Ben scratched his collar. ‘Well, yes. You said you couldn’t manage without one, and I did try to get it to you yesterday but they had to build it. I’ve just collected it. It will need tightening in a few weeks, or before if you use it frequently.’
She held her lip. ‘Oh, Jesus. This is embarrassing.’
‘Why?’
‘My other one wasn’t even brand new when I had it. You didn’t have to. You could have just got a second-hand one.’
Ben grinned. ‘I’m so sorry. If you don’t like it, I can return it and get something you would like. You choose.’
Feeling touched by her concern for his spending, he reached out to the back of his hire car and opened the rear.
‘Take a look.’ He reached up and heaved the heavy frame out, bouncing the sparkling new bike on to the gravel. ‘Try it. If you like it, I’ll fit the child seat on.’
‘It’s lovely.’
‘It’s a hybrid, like your other one, so it can be used on most terrain. Try it for height.’
Evie stepped away, pushing the pushchair in front of her. ‘No. I can’t accept this. It’s…’
‘Of course you can,’ Ben cut in ‘to be honest, I’m more than pleased I can do something for you. I feel terrible after what happened. Please, try it. I can adjust the saddle if it isn’t right.’
A flash of distrust crossed her face as he watched her pondering in silence
Clutching both hands, he raised his brows for a response. He was sure he’d done the right thing and the last thing he wanted to do was upset her. It wasn’t only that the whole film would be in jeopardy if they were sued, he also hated to see women upset. You can’t change who you are, he reminded himself. That’s what his sister, Hannah, told him when he raced to her side if she cried or had been troubled. His sisters often took his side. There were five years between him and Hannah. Both she and his eldest sister, Nicola, seven years his senior, were the sweetest. They argued among themselves at times but were just like mini-mummies’ to him, and he’d always felt torn if he had to take sides when the pair of them were in dispute, or if they argued with their mother. They would also protect him from his elder brother too, who constantly jibed him about his dyslexia. He now wondered if his sisters’ closer bond with him was the root cause of his brother’s attention-seeking behaviour. Anyway, this girl was far too wonderful to upset and he needed to change tack.
‘Ok. Perhaps it would be better if you tell me what you want?’
‘I thought you were going to fix my bike, not… not bring me a brand new one. That’s all. I feel it’s too much.’
‘Well, I can’t change the facts. The bike wasn’t fixable and I couldn’t see any second-hand bikes where I was, so I got the next best thing. I promise you, I chose this because it resembled everything about your old one – the size, the colour, the gears, the saddle, even the height should match yours. It wasn’t expensive if that’s what you’re worried about. Try it out before you decide. You definitely can’t ride your old one.’
She looked down at the buggy and turned it around, shading the girl from the full sun, then gazed up to him, her eyes bright but suspicious.
‘I’ll give it a go along the track,’ she relented and pressed the brake down on the buggy. ‘Erm, I’m now going to offend you but can I take your car keys with me? I’m just not happy leaving you with Charlotte.’
Ben sucked in his amusement but she was quite serious. Instead he smiled. ‘Yes, of course. Chain her to the gate if you want or would you prefer me to go?’
‘No. Just your keys.’ She held out her hand.
Ben reached into his pocket. He shut his rear door before clicking it locked. ‘Here.’ He pressed the keys into her hands, passed her the bike and stepped back against the car, not daring to touch the buggy. She swung her leg over the saddle and rode off. He scratched his head, feeling he should say something to little Charlotte whose mummy was cycling away, but he kept his lips sealed.
‘Mummy bike.’ Charlotte said.
‘Mummy gone.’
‘Where Mummy gone? Where Mummy gone?’
Ben coughed. ‘Mummy coming back.’
Charlotte threw herself forward in her pram. ‘I want Mummy,’ she urged in panic
Ben scratched his neck and looked around him, hoping no witnesses could hear and accuse him of terrorising the child.
‘Mummy,’ she called. Evie was now at the other end of the track and turning back. She waved.
He knelt down beside her. ‘Mummy waving. Wave to Mummy,’ Ben told her and demonstrated by waving his hand in the air. ‘Mummy coming.’
It seemed to do the trick and the little girl’s expression transformed to a smile. Evie gathered speed.
‘Mummy come.’
Ben breathed a big sigh as Evie slowed and squeaked the brakes a few feet away.
‘Mummy,’ Charlotte’s legs began kicking.
‘Yes, it feels really good.’ Evie said. ‘Rather nice.’
‘Good, so you’ll happily use it?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
‘I’ll put the child seat on.’
‘Thank you. Do you need a spanner?’
‘No, it’s all here. Ah, but I do need the car keys back.’
Evie twisted her mouth with a wry grin and delved into her pocket. ‘Just a precautionary thing, you understand,’ she said, passing them into his hand.
‘Sure. I’d do the same.’
Ben scrambled into the back of his car while Evie inspected the detail on the bike. He couldn’t help grinning to himself at her quirkiness. He found her so endearing; worrying about a replacement bike, for goodness’ sake. She didn’t seem ungrateful, more suspicious about his motives maybe, and, rightly so, very protective towards her child. He was pleased she had finally accepted the bike now though and wondered if it might be a good moment to ask her about the research. He was so enthused by her peasant girls and eager to know more.
‘Mummy out.’
‘Oh, sweetheart. Yes. You can come out.’ Evie told her child, unclipping her from the buggy. ‘We can have a little ride in a minute. We’ll pop down and see what Monsieur Fish has for us today.’
Swinging around while unwrapping the polythene wrapping on the child seat, Ben seized his moment.
‘You know you’ve created quite a dilemma for me?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘My script for Riquet. I can’t stop thinking about what you said about the female peasants from the mountains having an input to Riquet’s building of the canal.’ Ben mounted the seat while Evie held the bike. Charlotte watched curiously.
‘It’s your script. Your film. You do what you want with it. It was just an opinion, that’s all.’
‘But you are so passionate about them, their story. I can’t help feeling, especially if it’s fact, it should be added. And as you’re a journalist you probably know all about research and love digging out these types of stories… so, could you do some further research on this for me? And quite soon.’
He watched her face with caution, but her face lit up.
‘Well, yes, I’d love to. I did my journalism course before Charlotte so although I have the core skills, I haven’t had buckets of experience. I know the library in Beziers like the back of my hand, and the information centre in Colombiers, I’ll try and locate some primary sources too.’
‘Great, I want passion, I love your passion. All my team have passion. That’s enough. Great, do you work freelance now?’
‘No. I… don’t work. Well, I’m toying with the idea of working now that Charlotte’s a little older.’
‘But why didn’t you continue with your journalism?’
‘Apart from a few placements, I didn’t really get out to work. Lost confidence, I suppose.’ Her head swung down, scanning the floor.
‘Seems such a waste,’ Ben said, adding the last nut of the seat.
‘I know, my mother wasn’t pleased, I can tell you, but I’ve been busy with Charlotte anyway.’
‘You do want to do it, don’t you? I mean…’
Her head flipped up with such high velocity, a sweet peppery fragrance wafted from tresses of blonde hair. ‘Hey yeah, of course. It would suit me perfectly.’ Her eyes shone with such brutal honesty he swore he could see right into her soul.
‘Parents always have high expectations. I know mine did, but I didn’t want to become an architect like my mum, which she would have liked. I’d like to make them proud one day though, just as a thanks.’
‘Bit late for me now. Damage has been done.’
‘I bet they love their granddaughter.’
Her shoulders shrugged. ‘I doubt it. Well they might if they came to see her.’
Ben rubbed the side of his head and bit his lip. Maybe that was a bit too honest. ‘Well, anything you can dig up would be appreciated. Where these women came from, who they were, was there one in particular, did he have an affair or affairs? Apart from the labouring, what were their roles, ages, anything? I can give you an advance for expenses etc., and pay you hourly or a set fee? Have you got email?’
‘Oh, er. I’ve got your card with your email on. Shall I email you?’
Ben sensed a hesitation. ‘Yes, fine.’ Ben tightened the last bolt on the seat and asked her to put Charlotte in. They all seemed happy with the result. ‘Oh, I’ve got you a new helmet in case there was any damage to yours. I hope it fits.’ He went to the rear of the car and took out a box while Evie balanced her daughter on the bike.
‘You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble. Can I get you a drink?’
‘Like I said, it’s the least I could do. Anyway, I’d better get back to the set, so thank you for the offer. And,’ he reached inside the car, ‘the claim form. Here.’
Evie leant the bike and Charlotte against her hip and took the sheet of paper. ‘Huh, don’t be silly,’ Evie said, tearing it in half and half again, ‘the research work will be far more rewarding, thank you.’
Ben waved as he left. He would have loved nothing more to have stayed with them longer. Her charm was infectious. He felt her warming to him and was delighted that she would help. The fact that she had the training was a bonus. He drove to the end of the track and turned onto the narrow road. An approaching car swerved past him to the other side of the lane, overshooting into a small opening. He waved an apologetic hand at the driver as he drove off. It was a small Fiat, he noted, but the driver looked a lot like the singer, Seb Wilde. ‘Bloody hell, could he be her partner, and Charlotte’s father?
Chapter 5 (#ulink_2e8ac474-87fe-55b6-97ed-972ac74a8b92)
Evie wheeled the shiny bicycle inside the steel gates and propped it up, unclipping and lifting a reluctant Charlotte down from the chair. Apart from being deadly attractive, this man was so kind and so easy to talk to. She loved the smell of him, like him it seemed alluringly strong and dependable. She inhaled and took a deep breath, then let out the longest breath, trying to expel her guilt. If only she could feel as relaxed with Seb.
‘Go pish shop,’ Charlotte moaned, wriggling and twisting her body in defiance.
‘I need to try on my new helmet, sweet pea.’
Retrieving the buggy, where she’d stacked the helmet box, from outside the gate, Evie instructed Charlotte to wheel it to the door, helping her push it over the main threshold and into the hall. She collected the box, and with her daughter keen to see inside it, headed for the front shaded terrace. Seated on the bench, Evie winced at a dark cloud bruising the sky and continued. With a little strap adjustment, it was perfect. Ben had made a good selection.
Hearing a car, her heart raced. Ben had returned. She stood and peered out. Hmm, we’re popular all of a sudden. Evie didn’t recognise the small car but instantly knew the silhouette of the driver. Wondering why he hadn’t informed her of his visit, she watched as Seb Wilde stepped out of the car. Entering the open gate, he eyed the new bike with curiosity and strolled towards her. Whipping off the helmet, she examined him. His fair hair was cut shorter, his skin unusually tanned and, in long shorts and a casual t-shirt, he appeared slimmer. An anxious smile crossed his face. Evie put her helmet to one side and composed herself, determined she would not be argumentative and that she would make the most of his company, however mad she was at him. And it did seem petty after yesterday’s trauma.
‘Charlotte, look who has come to see us,’ she shrilled, taking the child’s hand. ‘It’s Daddy.’ She dropped the child’s hand and stepped into Seb’s open arms, which were welcoming but brief.
‘You’re in good spirits, especially after yesterday. What was that outburst about?’
‘I was bloody mad at you yesterday, but you’re here now. Can’t I be happy to see you?’
‘Yes, I gathered that. That’s why I’ve come.’
Evie stood back, observing as he bent down to his child.
‘Hello Charlotte.’ He brushed a hand through her hair. ‘How are you? You have grown, and are looking very pretty.’ He twisted a blond curl around his finger.
Charlotte rushed to her mother’s leg and clung to her knee. Her tongue licked her top lip as she scrutinised her father. Seb stood back up, and patted his daughter’s head. ‘It’s Daddy, silly.’
Evie sensed his irritation but what did he expect, not having been home since early February – and that visit was short. It was now the end of May. Charlotte was nearly two years old and so much more knowing. Although, she doubted he had any inkling of a child’s perception.
‘She’s going through a shy stage.’
‘I think she’s forgotten who I am.’
‘Well. She’s wary, I suppose. Four months is a long time in her mind. You look different too. Very well in fact. Have you been on holiday?’
‘A few days’ sailing for my manager’s fortieth, but, no, been touring and writing.’ He averted his eyes from Evie, looking at Charlotte instead, and awkwardly rubbed his chin.’
Hmm, Evie thought, looks more like a few months’ sailing and a few days’ touring. ‘Well, she’ll warm up. How long are you staying?’
‘It’s her birthday soon, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, next Wednesday. She’ll be two. Are you here for the week?’ Cally suddenly came to mind and she thought of the tension it could create.
‘Evie, sorry I won’t.’ Seb scratched his brow. ‘I’ve brought her a present but I’ll be in New York. I go tomorrow night so, I’ll just be staying tonight, I’m afraid.’
Evie’s head dropped and she took in a deep breath. ‘Perhaps you should put it in your diary for next year.’ She shifted her eyes up and down and her hands flitted to her waist. ‘So, ‘how is it that your manager’s fortieth is more important than your daughter’s birthday?’
‘Of course it isn’t.’ Seb rubbed his nose. ‘It’s just that we had a few days with nothing scheduled.’
‘Because he’d scheduled it, maybe? Isn’t it time you managed your own personal schedule, Seb? Your own priorities.’ Evie’s teeth ground with anger. He just didn’t get it, did he?
‘What’s got into you? This is what I warned you about, Evie. Why I couldn’t take on a child. Don’t make me out to be the ogre.’
Evie swiped her neck in a fluster. Of course he was right. He was having to compromise to make their relationship work. It didn’t stop it hurting any less though. She and Charlotte needed him more than he needed her. Then his usual grin appeared, creating the instant charm which always managed to melt her anger.
‘Oh. Well, we will have to have a little party tonight. I was going to get some fish for our tea so…’
‘No,’ Seb interrupted. Let’s eat out. Where would Charlotte like to eat? What’s her favourite restaurant?’
Evie gave a wry smile, huh, like they eat out. ‘Fish. She loves any fish. Sea bass, monkfish, dorade, or oysters, mussels, prawns… but I usually cook it.’
Evie could see he wasn’t keen.
He beamed as he clicked his fingers. ‘There’s a good fish restaurant in Sete, on the quay by the canal. Why don’t we head there? I’ll give her the present now while you get ready.’
Evie glared at him. What on earth would she wear? She only had the little white dress she wore last summer when he took them to a restaurant in the pretty hilltop village of Effies. He looked away and turned his attention to the bike. ‘Is that brand new?’
‘Yes. I had a rather nasty accident yesterday and my bike got damaged, so the… a guy who caused the incident replaced it.’
‘Well good. At least he has the courtesy to sort it out quickly. Was that the car I just saw drive out?’
‘Probably.’
‘Where was the accident?’ he asked, looking around for somewhere to sit.
‘On the bridge at Capestang.’
He looked down. ‘Your leg?’
‘Yes, but it’s ok, just a graze and bruising. It scraped along the wall of the bridge. I was more worried about what would happen to Charlotte if I had gone over and drowned in the canal. I need to give your phone number to my neighbour Suzanne, in case of an emergency.’
Seb pulled a face and began walking to the front terrace. ‘As long as you use a different name. You haven’t told her who I am?’
‘No of course not.’ She was now becoming cross at his skewed priorities and obsession with being hunted by the press. ‘Anyway, I trust her.’
‘You should trust no one. I’ve told you, most people crave money.’
Evie swiped a fly from her arm. ‘Oh don’t be so hung up on it. No one is really interested in our little lives.’
‘For Christ’s sake – my mother, the press, my reputation – it’s all important, Evie. My whole image is clean, boy-next-door, you know all this.’
Yes, they’d been over this before, but she had to speak to somebody. ‘Well perhaps I don’t understand why you don’t want your parents to know. They might like a grandchild. And nobody is a saint.’
Agitated, Seb kneaded his fist into the arm of the sofa. His eyes were sulky. He sat back, crossing his legs. ‘Like yours, they’re not that liberal minded.’
‘Well Suzanne is the only person I have to help, so…’
‘Well, tell her Charlie Lot or something so if she rings it will mean something. I hope it doesn’t come to that. What would I do with Charlotte on the road?’
Now she wanted to scream. ‘We have to be realistic and at least put a plan in place in case of such an eventuality. It’s really brought it home to me, especially as I don’t have my family.’ Evie scrimped back her hair and pulled it to one side. ‘Although, that could change.’
‘What do you mean?’ Seb got up and began pacing. Evie knew he would disapprove. As far as he was concerned, if they weren’t prepared to help their own daughter or sister, they were scum and he insisted she have nothing to do with them. At the time, she had agreed with him, but naturally spending so many months on her own had given her a different perspective. She really would have appreciated having her family around her.
‘My sister is coming to see us next week. Do you remember Cally? We’re going to try to rebuild our bridges. I could give her your number too, for emergencies.’
Seb pushed his shoulders back, resting his hands on his hips. ‘No, not Cally. Why? She’s never helped before. She must be after something. Probably to pry.’
‘My mum isn’t too good and she’s worried.’
‘Oh so now they need your help. So what are you going to do, rush across the Atlantic with my child and help them? You committed to me and to bringing up… Charlotte. I don’t need the paps chasing you around airports trying to fill their dirty pages.’
‘Apart from my family Seb, nobody knows. They’re not going to say anything. Stop it. Stop getting paranoid.’
‘Why should I trust them? And I don’t want you going anywhere without asking me first. That was our deal, remember. Anyway, run along and make yourself pretty. I’ll get the presents out of the car.’ He strolled off shaking his head.
Evie looked down at her shorts, wondering if she looked so bad. She sat Charlotte on the sofa and told her to sit still for her daddy’s surprise. Waiting with her until Seb had unloaded several packages, she then collected her bag from the hall.
‘Give her the small one, I’ll be back soon to watch her unwrap them.’
She ran upstairs to her bedroom and pulled out her one decent dress. The only plus was, it probably fitted better now that she was fitter. Cycling along the canal certainly shifted the pounds. She turned on the shower and, stripping off her clothes, stepped in. It was a refreshing change not to rush or have Charlotte in the shower with her. She stood under the square shower-head, allowing the tepid water to rush through her hair and over her body. As she lathered, she couldn’t help wondering if Seb actually wanted to be here. Each time he came home he seemed increasingly detached. Distant. Or maybe it was her.
It was possible he’d felt trapped and found it all too much of a bind. In fairness, he had never wanted it, even though he was half responsible. He had come round though, after his initial angry outburst, when she’d insisted she was going to keep the baby. He was never quite accepting her decision, but at least he became much more considerate – working out a plan for them both. He’d become somewhat caring and loving, even. For two months after Charlotte was born, he’d stayed. They’d been a proper little family for a while and Evie had really enjoyed their time together. He’d seemed to too. But their domesticity was short-lived. His career had to take precedence, he’d said. Of course, deep down, she knew that. She accepted he was a superstar, and his singing and song-writing was who he was. The problem now was that he treated her like one of his entourage. No, less than that, he squeezed her and Charlotte in when he had nothing better to do.
Turning off the shower, Evie swiftly towelled off the water and wrapped the towel around her whilst she dried off her hair. She added a little make-up to her face, not that there was much left in her make-up bag. Then, slipping on her dress, and dabbing on a little perfume, she grabbed her bag, heading down the stairs. The scene she met was rather sweet. Seb was teasing the paper off for Charlotte to tug on but she could only pull it so far, and Seb was actually taking her hand and showing her. Evie sighed as she peered around, the larger of the boxes had been unwrapped… but the picture on the box caught her by surprise. It was a beautiful Edwardian dolls’ house, which was any little girl’s dream. Well, maybe not a two-year-old’s dream but, she considered, a wonderful gift. Although it quite clearly needed fixing together.
‘Oh, Charlotte, that’s a pretty house.’
‘House, Mummy,’ Charlotte pointed at the picture on the box.
Becoming impatient, Seb pulled more paper off each smaller present, partially revealing dolls-house furniture and a family of small figures. Evie considered Charlotte a little young for such tiny accessories and would hide them away for another year.
Evie squatted beside her daughter. ‘They are beautiful sweetheart. We’ll put them away and build it another time. Let me get you tidied up. We are going out today for dinner with Daddy for your birthday. We are going in the car.’
Charlotte stood up, now distracted. ‘Pish, Mummy. Car, Daddy.’
After a stroll around the town and the harbour, they ate in Chez Francois in Sete. Charlotte ate her monkfish, or lotte as she preferred to call it, like a hungry tiger. Seb and Evie shared a huge seafood platter accompanied by a cool Chablis. Evie began giggling with light-headedness. She hadn’t enjoyed a drink in ages. Seb was funny and teased both her and Charlotte; it was soothing when he began to act like his old self again. As soon as they reached home, she lay their sleeping daughter in her cot and changed her into pyjamas. Seb meanwhile went out to get more wine. He returned with a crate and many goodies which Evie imagined cost a few months’ worth of her allowance.
‘I’ll get my CD player and put on some music,’ she said as Seb poured her a glass of wine and opened himself a beer. ‘I’ve not added any new CD’s to my music collection, so I hope you don’t mind Adele, or Katy Perry. No, I’ll put Adele on.’
‘I’ll try to remember to bring you some next time.’ Seb sat on the sofa and tapped the seat beside him.
Placing her wine on the coffee table, Evie smiled as she sat down beside him. This was more like life should be. Although, it would be nice to actually go out and choose my own CDs, she wanted to tell him. Hell, as soon as she was earning from Ben, she would treat herself. Just one.
‘I’m so out of touch with the music scene. Oh, do you think you could you bring a nursery-rhyme CD for Charlotte?’
He raised his arm and pulled her close. ‘I’ll try to remember.’
She snuggled into his chest so easily. It was certainly good to have him home and she still yearned to have the old Seb back. Today had been good; chilling out in Sete and seeing Seb joking and laughing. It was just the tonic she needed after the several disappointments she had been through these past few weeks with him cancelling his visits. He was quite different now when he came home, generally his mind was on other things. He was more’ relaxed, compared to when he’d arrived, as was she, which was no doubt more due to the wine. However, it was still so wonderful to listen to his chest pounding in her ear and to feel loved occasionally. She responded to his squeeze, lifting her hand and stroking his hair. Seb then lifted her chin, placing his lips over hers, his hands sliding hungrily up her thigh. Evie’s body reacted with feeling for once – she was still a woman, not just a mother. Both got to their knees and as they kissed, he slid her down and entered.
As much as she tried, it was Ben Evie’s body yearned for. Seb lay back on the sofa panting, freeing her from his arms. She curled up her legs at the other end of the sofa, pulling down her dress, rearranging herself. Ben was finished for now. So, ok, it wasn’t as tender as it used to be, but if he was home more, she was sure it could get better and return to the passionate lusty days they used to share. He was like a drug she couldn’t wean herself from.
Chapter 6 (#ulink_04a7447e-cdc6-5cb6-bf5c-00f07dd22fb6)
Seb picked up his beer then the TV remote, and switched it on. He turned to Evie and said, as if reading her thoughts, ‘I do miss you, you do know that, I just wish I could get back here more often.’
‘It would be nice.’ Evie pushed her hair back, wishing they could be like this on a regular basis too. Maybe once or twice a month. That wouldn’t be asking too much. ‘Such a shame you won’t be here for Charlotte’s birthday.’
He pulled her towards him, leaning his arm on her shoulder. ‘If only I could. It’s getting busier with summer festivals and parties in the parks, that sort of thing. Charlotte has friends she can invite, presumably?’
Evie’s neck lurched forward to face him. ‘She doesn’t start kindergarten until she’s three and we don’t know any other mums around here. And, you don’t like me mixing, remember? Anyway, they’re mainly older people. We see children at the park sometimes.’ Evie now found it difficult to talk to people, especially when they asked about her partner and his job. It did seem easier to keep herself to herself nowadays. Besides, she had got so used to her own company and so engrossed in her books to pass the long empty hours that it was like she had forgotten how to socialise. In truth, and she would never admit it to Seb or anyone, she had become very withdrawn from the world, quite inhibited in fact.
Seb took the TV off mute. ‘You need to find some mum friends, otherwise it will get pretty lonely for you both. I’m sure my mother took us to a mother-toddler group even when we were babies. It wasn’t one of those where you just dumped your child.’
Evie picked up her glass of wine and took a mouthful as Seb stared at the screen. Seb’s mother, she imagined, had been among friends she had grown up with or had met at the NCT ante-natal; friends she socialised with at regular dinner parties, as their golfing husbands discussed property prices. Like her own mother possibly, pillars of the community, thriving on their fundraising and committees, patting themselves on the back at their coffee mornings. He’d told her once his mother had high moral standards and it would kill her if she discovered he’d had a child. Yes, good old middle-class ethics. He was clearly ashamed and feared scandal; just like her own mother. Evie didn’t really know much about his life. He’d rarely spoken about it. Especially his childhood. She’d never met his family and guessed she was never likely to, though she often wondered what they were like. So sad that Charlotte and her grandparents didn’t know one another. She could really do with a family around her.
He was so full of contradictions. She couldn’t win.
‘I don’t understand you, Seb. You don’t want me to mix in case anyone finds out about us, yet you are now implying I do the opposite.’
‘You don’t have to mention me, us.’
‘But people ask and it becomes awkward. What if they see you? They’ll know I’ve lied to them. You don’t understand, do you? I don’t know why we have to be so secretive. I thought we were a family but you insist on keeping up this charade.’ Evie now had the bit between her teeth. ‘I know you were upset, well quite violent actually, when I told you I was pregnant – but why did you decide to support us and tell me you wanted to make a go of it, when all you’ve done is leave us here alone? The relationship going nowhere. I mean, you’ve never mentioned marriage or having more children. I…’
Seb turned to face her, tapping his fingers on the arm of the sofa and bouncing his knee. ‘Look, I did warn you, I have my music.’
‘Yes, but other musicians have a wife and family. Being a family man isn’t a bad image. You still haven’t told your family either. It’s like you’re ashamed of me or something.’
She watched as he scratched his brow, his knees still bouncing. ‘It’s not how my family does things, I thought you understood all this. They’d be upset. They expect marriage before children. And the fans, they’d be devastated. They like an idol who is single. It gives them hope. As soon as an artist gets married, their’ followers decline. I can’t afford for that to happen yet. Maybe in a few years.’
Evie tucked her hands under her knees and stared into her lap. ‘You think I trapped you, don’t you?’
‘I wasn’t ready. It was a big blow. Look, I know it’s hard for you at the moment but I honestly don’t know what I can do to put it right. I’m doing my best. When I’m not focusing on writing the songs, I have to focus on performing, rehearsing, until every song on an album is the best it can be. The music and musicians, the mixing – they have to be spot on for recording, and then again for the stage. So many people rely on me. You’ve no idea of the pressure of being on the stage – when you’re waiting for the audience to engage, to like you, and to not spot when you mess up. Look, I don’t expect you to understand the mechanics, just the pressures, the travelling, the demands. I’m a product like any other. I’m like a toy, to be enjoyed for a while, then brushed aside. I rely on myself to keep my music fresh, to capture new audiences, to maintain the interest of the older ones, and to keep the manager and the team together, to keep the wheels turning for all our sakes. I bought this so that you and Charlotte will always have a home. If it all went belly up tomorrow, you could downsize and hopefully still have some sort of income.’ He pulled her shoulders back, gripping her chin and kissed her on the lips. ‘I love you, I want what’s best for my two beauties.’ It’s just that most of my time is in the US or UK. We’re stuck with it for now.’
Instantly flinching, Evie jumped up and clutched both hands on her waist. ‘Stuck with it. Stuck with Charlotte? Seb, she’s your daughter. You spent more time with me when we first met. You found the time then. Even when she was a baby, you spent several weeks here. I really thought you cared, despite your reaction. I thought we had something special. Now… now it seems you just don’t know what to do with us. Like a puppy you got for Christmas and you can’t be bothered with. God, I was so naïve.’
Seb leaped up and put his arm around her. ‘Neither of us meant for this to happen. Let’s just make the most of it. Try and find somewhere you and Charlotte can go where she can make friends and you have some company.’ He kissed her hair and lowered his head, smiling into her eyes. ‘You both mean the world to me.’
Reluctantly, Evie met his gaze, wishing to believe him. ‘I can’t live in a cage like you expect. I’m turning into a hermit. I need something else to do. Some normal existence.’
She peered vacantly at the floor, trying to comprehend. Seb took her hand and led her back to the sofa, then sat down beside her. With one hand stroking her arm, he picked up the remote with the other.
‘You must get lonely. I understand.’ Seb said, flicking through TV channels and adding the sound.
Feeling like she’d been given a dummy to pacify her, Evie drew her legs up and tucked them underneath her. Seeing her book tucked down in the cushion, she picked it up. ‘I do, especially in the winter months when it’s dark. TV is boring. It’s lucky I have my books.’ Noticing Seb had hit the sports channel and was distracted by a Formula One racing driver interview, she continued. ‘Charlotte’s just finished the Lord of the Rings trilogy and is running out of material.’ She paused, when he failed to respond, and sat back. ‘There’s just not enough for two-year-olds. I thought she might like Fifty Shades next.’
He stared at her blankly, missing her irony entirely.
He squeezed the mute button. ‘Sorry, I was listening to the TV.’
‘I said it might be useful if we had a computer,’ she said, now having his attention. ‘We could find things to do like games or learning apps. Could you get one? Just a second-hand one will be fine.’
‘Not necessary. She has lots of toys. She is definitely too young for a computer.’
‘Well I’d find one useful. I could…’
‘This house alone costs a fortune to run. Evie, you have your books. I promise to try and get back more.’
He kissed her lightly on the lips and turned again to the screen, clicking it off mute.
‘Seb, I need to do more. I need something to occupy me. ‘If I had more to do… A job maybe, to get me out.’
He sat slumped, engrossed in the screen. He was obviously bored and had switched off. Was she just going to continue sitting around, waiting for him to fulfil his music career? She could be old and grey and yet still waiting for him to step back from his first love – his fame – and still Charlotte wouldn’t know her father, or anyone else come to that.
Seb cricked his neck. Evie sensed either he wasn’t comfortable with the idea or wasn’t listening. He was difficult to read and she needed to know. She took another sip of wine and crossed her legs while he scratched his chin and surveyed his empty glass.
‘Why? You’ve got everything you need. Anyway, you enjoy reading.’
She grabbed the remote from his hand and pressed the mute. ‘Seb, listen to me,’ she demanded, surprised at her impulsive pluck. ‘If I worked, it would help our relationship too. I wouldn’t resent you being away so much if I had a job. I would be happier and Charlotte could go to a good crèche and make friends. Even if I worked two or three morning a week. In fact, I could help out financially too and pay for a computer myself.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Where are all these ideas coming from? You don’t need to work. You have more than enough income to live. I don’t know what’s got into you.’
‘But that’s just it. I exist. I want to live a little more. It would be nice to take Charlotte to the zoo or buy her a treat or a nice little dress. What spare cash I have, I save for her birthday, or Christmas.’
‘The income is so that you bring Charlotte up, not for luxury trips and flouncy dresses. I want you to bring her up, not some childminder who doesn’t even care about her. I won’t have you working, Evie. I won’t. Do you hear?’
She tentatively bit her lip.
‘You’re right Seb, but at least let me try and prove to you that I can work without it affecting our relationship. We could all benefit.’
‘Hey, Evie, listen to me.’ Seb pulled her to his chest. ‘You don’t need a job. You have one, looking after our daughter. You’ve got me wrong. Of course I want to be here. I want to see more of Charlotte, and you, and I want our relationship to work. It’s hard, that’s all. My head is in a different place much of the time. You have to understand.’ He squeezed her arm. ‘I’ll get you another drink. I bought some tasty Roquefort. Fancy some?’
Evie shook her head. ‘Just a small glass of wine, thank you,’ she said, biting her cheek and pulling long tendrils of hair to her chest as Seb stood up. That was too much. She could risk everything she and Charlotte had. She could push him too far and the last thing they needed was to be homeless with no funds at all. She had nowhere to go.
Seb returned with the wine and cheese, placing them down on the table. He sat beside her and pecked her gently again on her lips. ‘I’m sorry. It’s not easy, I’m sure. If I made millions, I would have you with me, but this business is tough.’
Twisting her mouth, she gave a reluctant nod.
Lifting his hand, he gently cupped her chin. ‘Tell you what, I’ll increase your allowance a bit, how’s that?’ he said, planting a tender peck on her nose.
Hugging herself, again she nestled deeper into the sofa. Leave it, she told herself. Perhaps she was being unreasonable and should count herself lucky. He had agreed to up her allowance, she couldn’t really argue… but then why did she feel he’d just reeled her in again?
Chapter 7 (#ulink_dcb7cc9d-5ebe-5245-84c9-a77e286a06c4)
Evie woke when she heard Charlotte. Seb was out for the count and she slipped out of the bedroom and into their child’s room, her head throbbing from too much alcohol and not enough sleep. As Charlotte chatted away to her toys in the cot, Evie gave a grateful smile, blew her a kiss and, closing the door, nestled into the nursery chair. She’d lain awake for hours trying to think of ways to make her relationship with Seb work, but how could it work if his absence continued and she was so restricted. What difference would it make to him if she had a little job? It’s not like she was intending to jet off around the world. She’d be on a computer at home or just cycling locally. What had she really signed up to here? It wasn’t what she had anticipated, that’s for sure. But then, she had rushed in thinking Seb Wilde was mad about her and was buying them all a home to live in happily ever after, despite the warnings from her family. Had she been so deluded?
She hadn’t known Seb very long, only seven weeks in fact, when she’d discovered she was pregnant. At the beginning of their relationship, Seb was so sweet, their early romance fun and so loving. They seemed to have so much in common, both lovers of Stephen King books – often reading them to one another – they enjoyed watching the hilarious antics of the actor Will Ferrell, and listening to the seductive melancholic tones of singer Adele. Seb made her feel special, driving around in his open jeep around the island of Majorca, through the mountains, among the orange and lemon groves, walking along the beautiful beach close to his villa. They were a beautiful couple in love. Or so she thought.
The bliss soon spun to brutality when she’d burst out from the bathroom with the stick of evidence, thinking how delighted he would be. He’d claimed he’ loved her, after all. But his reaction completely stunned her. The condemnation in his eyes created a permanent scar inside her and what he’d immediately suggested still to this day reverberated in her ears.
‘I’ll ring the clinic. You can get rid of it straightaway,’ he’d said. ‘No hesitation, no thought, just a rote response, like she’d discovered a rat in the bathroom.
‘But it’s my child. Our child. I can’t.’
‘I don’t know that.’
‘But you’re the only one…’
‘Don’t give me that crap. I guarantee you will live to regret having that child.’
Evie’s heart had crumpled on the spot. ‘Seb, don’t joke. That’s cruel.’
He jumped out of the bed and didn’t return until the following morning.
It had got worse, far worse, over the next week. They’d argued so much. He’d been as adamant to terminate the pregnancy as she’d been to keep it. It was killing the relationship. It broke her heart to see how vicious Seb Wilde could be and in her anger, she’d actually threatened to make it public. Something she’d vowed to herself she wouldn’t do, but in desperation to keep the child, the words rushed out. ‘I’ll tell the press what a bastard you really are.’ His hand had then reached for her throat. He’d forced her backwards against the wall. Yes, he’d been pushed to his limit but so had she. That was the final straw. She’d taken about as much abuse as she could stomach and returned to England, having made up her mind she would manage alone.
Naturally, her sister and parents agreed it wasn’t the best idea but she couldn’t face the alternative. He’d then rung three or four times a week to dissuade her, but her mind was fixed. Then three weeks later, he’d turned up on her doorstep turning back on his charm, concerned about his reputation more than anything else, but with an offer Evie couldn’t resist – to choose where she wanted to live so that they could move in together. The cost to her family was high, however. He’d persuaded her it was the best thing all round. In fact, within weeks, he’d transformed from Satan back to Angel Gabriel, promising everything. The future looked hopeful.
Even though she’d understood Seb’s music career would take precedence, he was away far more than she had anticipated. In fact – apart from the first few weeks after Charlotte was born – when she added it up, he’d only stayed here about ten or twelve weeks in total over the last few years. He’d missed his daughter’s first smile, sitting up for the first time, first words, and her first steps. All those exciting moments which parents love to share.
‘Mummy, milk Mummy.’ Charlotte broke her trance. She glanced adoringly at her daughter. Pink cheeks glowing from translucent skin pinched her heart as she slid over to her child and lifted the outstretched arms.
‘I will never regret having you,’ Evie whispered. ‘And between you and me, I think your daddy is just playing a game. Come on, let’s cycle to the library today. Mummy has something rather more stimulating to do for a change. Shhh, our secret!’
After breakfast, Evie was showering with Charlotte, thinking how exciting her research task for Ben would be, when Seb entered the main bathroom freshly showered, shaved and wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He hung an apologetic head.
‘Sorry my visit is so short but I need to go. I’ve got a plane to catch.’
Evie switched off the shower and reached for the towels. ‘Yes, brief, but will we see you soon?’
‘I will try. Have a happy birthday Charlotte,’ he said, one hand on his hip and rubbing the back of his neck as he lingered. Evie couldn’t tell if he felt awkward approaching his daughter or if it was guilt for leaving.
Wrapping Charlotte first, Evie lifted her for Seb to kiss.
He moved his hand and waved. ‘Bye.’
Evie’s eyes narrowed. Why did she have to spell it out to him? ‘What about a kiss for your daughter?’
‘Oh, sorry, yes,’ he grinned, leaning forward and kissing them both briefly. ‘Right. Bye. See you soon. And, remember what I said. You don’t need to work and tell me if you need to leave here to see your family. I’ll arrange transport, maybe come with you if I can.’
What was he thinking? Why was he so against her doing anything? Burning with fury, she strapped Charlotte into her seat on the back of the bike and headed out to the canal. She peddled hard to the bridge at Colombiers and once across, turned towards the Malpas tunnel rather than directly to Beziers, just for a longer ride. Thank goodness she had her bike; as well as releasing the tension Seb had left, she found it increasingly useful as a time to reflect and think – Charlotte rarely chatted or made demands whilst on the back. And Seb had worried her this morning. He was interacting less and less with his daughter; showing little affection. Wasn’t it natural to want to kiss your child? It seemed he was so obsessed with his music, he lost track of what was real.
Seb couldn’t understand her feelings. He was with his team and working most of the time. How would he know the emptiness of those long days or nights alone, isolated with nothing but hope; wishing, dreaming he would walk through the door. She accepted he couldn’t provide everything to widen her horizons, allow her to travel, but being able to take their daughter out would be educational, having a computer would benefit them both and, if she did contribute, he wouldn’t resent her so much. It could certainly help their relationship and could be a way to recapture what they’d had. She’d convinced her family she would be happy and was loath to admit defeat. As her mother had said, she had made her bed, she would have to lie in it. Alas, it was all she’d ever wanted and now they were at loggerheads and she didn’t know what to do. The work Ben had offered sounded exciting and one she could hopefully carry out without Seb finding out, but if that didn’t work out, she now at least felt worthy enough to try.
Arriving just before the Malpas tunnel, she stopped breathless before the path inclined. Perspiration poured from her skin as she twisted around and glimpsed at Charlotte.
‘Phew, you ok poppet? I feel a bit better, or at least invigorated. Let’s get to the library. We’ll find some lovely colourful books you can look at,’ she said, stepping off and wheeling the dusty new bike full circle so that it faced Beziers.
‘Butterfly, Mummy.’
Evie’s eyes trailed Charlotte’s finger to her saddle. On it, with twitching yellow tinged-wings, the swallowtail butterfly rested. There was something wonderfully hypnotic as it fluttered, revealing hues of effervescent blue and spots of red on its tail.
‘How beautiful. Look how exquisite that pattern is.’
‘Bootifal Mummy.’
They watched in awe at its form and symmetry, the sun shimmering, even on the darkest black. ‘I don’t think she wants us to go. She wants to ride with us but Mummy can’t sit on her, can she?’
‘Butterfly sitting, ha ha.’ Charlotte giggled. ‘Hello butterfly.’
‘Perhaps she’ll tell us how she’s changed from a tiny egg to a butterfly. She has been working hard. You see, from her egg she was born a caterpillar, you’ve seen one of those, haven’t you. And after days of feeding and spinning her silk she wraps herself into a chrysalis – like a little fluffy white ball – before emerging, days later, as this, a beautiful butterfly.’
It sounded so simple, Evie thought as it suddenly took flight. Such a little thing totally dependent on itself to transform. Perhaps she ought to depend on her own resources to climb out of her rut. She could spend many, many years alone with Seb away. The thought of falling down into those dismal depths, the thought of feeling so lost again… it was not appealing. So much of that time she’d spent seeking comfort, listening to Seb’s soothing tones as she played his tracks over and over, losing herself in a bubble of longing. It seemed such a waste now. It was time she found something to fit with her care for Charlotte. Despite Seb, she was determined. Maybe this work she’d do for Ben could be the start of something.
She recalled the short time she’d spent doing work experience at the ‘Cool Girl’ magazine. It had given her such a boost when Jane Loftus, the editor, had called her in her office for a one-to-one on her progress. She’d told her she had the imagination and drive to create fresh ideas as well as handle research. She’d been impressed with the compelling piece she’d written. Perhaps she should begin her writing again. If she made a good impression on Ben, maybe it would boost her confidence to do more. So much of her time was spent listening to music and escaping into books to blank out reality; waiting for Seb. What she needed was to think about the future, not the past. To be a butterfly, not a caterpillar.
With her mood brightening, she lifted her jaw and allowed the rays from the sun to caress her face. All she needed to do was look forward. What she needed was a plan and for Seb to meet her at least halfway. She would continue working on him and keep convincing him. Feeling the soft breeze sweep around her moist neck, she set off back under the shade of the plane trees. Now letting her muscles and mind relax, she began to absorb the serene surroundings, witnessing dappled light flitting through lush leaves, the hush of still water, unruffled, reflecting the tall leafy structures along its bank. Only the bicycle wheels hitting the odd stone broke the rhythm of silence. As the path flattened then rose, an absence of trees showered down light and opened a distant landscape where farmhouses nestled among rows of bud-filled vines.
Back past the bridge at Colombiers and a further small bridge by a holiday village, Evie slowed as she hit traffic. Walkers and other cyclists bunched on her approach to Fonserannes Lock. Passing at a wider stretch beside the top of the locks, she was brought to a halt. Unusually, a large crowd congregated. She peered round towards the building to her side. A white square board with bold red writing met her gaze.
‘ATTENTION! Filming in progress. Possible dangers. Thank you for your patience. Access will resume at 11.30 a.m.’
Through the crowd, she glimpsed a barrier was in place. Spinning her watch around on her wrist, she checked the time. Another forty minutes to wait.
‘Bah. Well, poppet, we might as well sit on the grass and have an early lunch, or a drink, at least,’ she said to Charlotte, lifting her leg over the crossbar and guiding the bike past the lock keeper’s house, and towards a grass verge.
‘Evie,’ someone called, a male voice, warmly familiar. Instantly it set her tingling. She scanned the outside of the building where the sound came from, a beguiling smile curled on her lips as the tall frame approached. Ice cream in one hand, he waved tentatively with the other.
‘Oh, Ben. Hi, I’d have thought you were down there with the crew.’
‘Oh, bit of red tape to clear up with the authorities. Sorted now, so my reward…’ he brandished his ice cream in the air. ‘I’m just going back down if you want to come with me.’
‘No. I was going to sit down here…’
‘You’re my chief researcher, come on, I’ll buy you both a drink.’
‘Well that’s what I was going into Beziers to do, actually.’ Evie grappled with her rucksack. ‘And, I’ve got drinks in my bag.’
‘Here, I’ll hold the bike while you take…’ he stopped, holding out his hand and squinting, ‘err, Charlotte is it?’
Evie swallowed as a faint blush brushed over her chest. He remembered. That was unexpected.
‘Yes,’ she nodded as he placed a firm grip on the handlebars, and sandwiched his legs around the front of the wheel. Unleashing Charlotte and taking her hand, she followed Ben through the crowd and stood behind him as he put his hand in the air. Looking down at the bottom of the deep staircase of locks, she could see Samantha, Ben’s assistant, sticking up a hand and showing a thumb. They slid through an opening beside the barrier and began to potter down the steep hill. A few people began to follow, but Ben held up his palm and, very politely, asked them to wait.
‘You’re going to be popular,’ Evie told him.
‘Not long now though. I just hope we have enough time. Ah, looks like they’re ready. Probably just waiting for us to get out of the way.’
Evie swept Charlotte into her arms, livening up her pace. ‘You should have said.’
‘How have you both been anyway?’ Ben asked, finishing off his ice cream.
‘Fine, absolutely fine. The new bike is good too.’
‘Well good to know it’s not getting a chance to gather dust.’
‘Actually, it probably is on these paths now, but, yes, I use it every day. I couldn’t imagine getting around here much with a pushchair.’
Reaching the café at the bottom of the slope, Ben parked the bike. ‘Go and take a seat, I’ll be over shortly.’
Evie chose a seat on the front overlooking the canal. There was so much choice. Usually, the café was rammed as she cycled by, this obviously wasn’t good for business. She felt rather important when a further horde of people observed her from the bottom barrier as she perched herself and Charlotte among the vacant seats. Immediately, the waiter brought over a highchair and she sat Charlotte down. From her rucksack, she pulled out two small picture books and opened one up for Charlotte who immediately began pointing and gabbling.
‘Avez-vous choisi?’ the smiling young waiter asked.
In his absence, she ordered Ben a small beer, a coffee for herself, then peered round to survey the scene. Groups of men milled around in peasant clothes with pick axes, feigning work on a large grassed area beside the lock. On a lower section of the lock a cluster of women, also peasant-clad from the Riquet era, were accompanied by scruffy children. Further down, at the basin, nobler men with long curls dressed in pantaloons sashed at the waist and long jackets decorated with cravats were in discussion on a grass bank. No doubt, she figured, they must generate computer imaging to create authenticity with the background, but she found it fascinating. Ben must have a picture in his mind of the scenes and shots, and she was glad to see he had included the women. Her mind wandered as she gazed back at them. Who were they, she asked herself. What villages did they come from? Who did they leave behind? What life did they forsake to work here? And, was there anyone special for Mr Riquet among these women?
Questions still whirled as Ben, she realised, was now in front of her and his fresh scent breezed around her.
‘Looks good, don’t you think?’ he grinned, the glint in his eyes instantly forcing a crimson glow to her cheeks.
Just as she was about to speak, they were interrupted by the waiter placing drinks on the table in front of them.
‘Oh, I ordered you a small beer. Is that ok?’
‘Perfect, just what I need.’
‘So, yes, the costumes look amazing. I presume your main character, Mr Riquet, is among the dignitaries, there,’ she pointed to the far basin where a group of men appeared to be in heated discussions.
‘Yes, arguing his point, as usual. Quite convincing aren’t they. They’re just taking some scene shots with the doubles. They’re almost finished. The actors arrive next week.’
‘Oh, clever. And, the women?’ Evie sipped her drink.
‘Oh, the workers we’ll just take footage of for now. They don’t have lines. Samantha has found some superb ground we can work on for digging and channelling.’ Ben smiled, scratching his head. ‘So, I look forward to discovering what you can come up with.’
Evie found herself picturing in her mind a young woman leading a work team, and Mr Pierre-Paul Riquet catching his breath at her animation as she explains some simple solution to his problem.
‘So am I. I have so many questions in my head right now,’ she told him.
‘Brilliant. I just hope your findings don’t knock my script out of joint. I’m now convinced another character could add to it. Let’s wait and see, shall we?’
Evie couldn’t help but stare; his eyes glistened with passion for his work with no sign of tension in his jaw like before… and that beautiful mouth. She had to wonder at his calmness being a film director, he certainly knew how to delegate and trust his team, in comparison to Seb – who was afraid to relinquish his dominance and control and wouldn’t allow anyone to make decisions or overrule his say, unless it was something that was fun and suited him of course. No, Ben, it seemed, invited input from his team, and sought to add others’ creativity. She admired that quality in him, she had never met a man so good looking and so considerate, with enthusiasm so contagious. Each individual in his team showed willing and respect. She could almost hear his mind ticking as he perused his team at work. His attention flashed to Charlotte.
‘And how is your little helper, your research assistant?’
Unprepared for the snap question, Evie took in a breath. ‘Looking forward to a trip to the library, aren’t you Charlotte? She adores books.’
‘Classics, or a good thriller?’
Evie laughed. ‘Sit her with a pile of books and she’ll sit forever.’
‘Were you like that as a child?’
‘Totally. Books were my sanctuary. My sister excelled at maths which only amplified my inadequacies and sent me nose-diving into a book. What about you?’
Ben’s chin lowered to his chest. He tightened his lips, shaking his head. ‘I made every excuse not to read. I’m dyslexic and a slow reader. They thought I was lazy. Reading and writing was a miserable experience, until luckily a teacher recognised it and was able to suggest some strategies. My older sisters helped me greatly with those at home too, much to the disgust of my brother. I was getting all the attention, which built up resentment and it took him years to get over it. And it took me years to get over his tormenting. I had these weird glasses for a while and you can imagine how much mileage he got taking the piss out of me with those. But, I used to make up stories in my head and make storyboards, got used to visualising and etching out the stories I suppose, which evolved into using my dad’s video camera and making films. That was my way of dealing with my shortcomings.’
Evie felt touched that he could reveal so much of himself, an admiration surfaced in her. ‘I’ve heard dyslexics are very gifted and can be highly creative, particularly being able to see things in three dimension. That’s probably why you’re good with film.’
‘Apparently. It could just be that we’ve had to find another way but yes, I’ve heard we compensate in other ways. I tend not to dwell on it now. I still read and write slower than the average person, but there’s nothing wrong with my comprehension and I’ve probably landed a far more satisfying career than a lot of those guys who mocked me. Well, when I say landed, I’ve grafted and pushed myself through some gruelling, and at times uncomfortable, situations to make it happen – but I’ve focused on what works for me.’ He poured the remainder of the amber liquid down his throat.
Gazing at him with admiration, his words echoed through her: “focus on what works for me”. Those warm eyes glimmered at her.
‘I’m impressed. I wish I had your determination.’
‘Bringing up a child up takes a lot of determination, I imagine. I can’t wait to be a dad one day.’
‘Not all men think like you. My partner wasn’t happy about it. He was really against it when I told him I was pregnant.’ Evie thought of Seb’s reaction. Although, Ben did say “one day”, maybe his ambitions would prevent him too. Maybe he was more careful and took the right precautions with his conquests. He’d probably had lots of those too, like Seb. So alike yet so different. The thought occurred, both workaholics… yet Ben was much more grounded.
‘Oh?’
‘I was over the moon but when I told him, but it went down like the proverbial balloon. Worst time of my life. I was stupid to think he would be as pleased as me about it.’
‘It wasn’t planned then, I take it?’
‘No. We’d only been together about six weeks.’
‘I don’t suppose it was easy then if…’
‘We got on so well before,’ Evie bumbled, realising she had started something.
‘Ah I see. Yes. I’d want to make sure I was with the right person first,’ he said, appearing thoughtful.
‘I thought he was the right one and thought he felt the same…’ She clutched her throat, willing herself to shut up. She was blurting again and he was rubbing his head as though trying to decide if she was the village idiot or something. She glanced down at her coffee cup, then at Charlotte who was immersed in her book. Well, no matter what, she didn’t regret her decision to have Charlotte. She would never have been strong enough to face the alternative. That would have taken guts. Perhaps she had just been naïve in thinking Seb would have been pleased just because she was. Naïve in thinking they had a strong relationship too.
‘I hope I haven’t upset you,’ Ben said, invading her thoughts. ‘I’m not taking any sides here but in a situation like yours, isn’t it the case that you both have to do what is necessary and step up to the responsibility? Regardless of your feelings for one another.’
His lashes flickered down at her coffee cup. Of course she knew the answer – and she and Seb had both stepped up – but it left her with a question. Had they done what was right for them?
Rubbing his palms around his glass, he peered at her. ‘Again, you have to focus on what works for you.’ His lips curled into that comforting smile she found increasingly alluring. ‘I’d never have pushed myself without that philosophy. Like you, I’ve got one life and I plan to make the best of what I have.’
Evie remained quiet, scratching the back of her neck, those words resounding in her head again, “focus on what’s best for you”.
‘Anyway, I’m preventing you from this much sought-after research.’ Ben said easing out of his chair. ‘I’m afraid I have to go and wrap this up and move on, for now at least. We’re shooting up at the Malpas tunnel tomorrow.’
‘Oh, don’t let me stop you. Yes. I need to get on too,’ she said finishing her own drink.
Evie watched as Ben gave Charlotte’s cheek an affectionate stroke with his finger. He skirted the highchair and moved towards Evie, holding an arm out which she took to mean he was expecting her to stand to air-kiss goodbye. She got up obligingly, offering each cheek to his lips, rousing a rush of desire in her as she inhaled hues of spice. Feeling the blood race from her throat to her temples, she dropped her head to hide the embarrassment of her response, focusing her gaze on the empty glasses on the table until the shame vanished.
‘Oh, I’ll get the bill,’ she said reaching for her bag.
‘Absolutely not. These guys have been paid. We can’t expect them to lose money whilst we shoot. It’s been a joy to see you again. Hope the research goes well,’ he said with a wink as he marched away. She was like a plant that had been stuck in the shade, with brown crumbling foliage. But now she felt her leaves beginning to shoot upwards. She wondered if placed in the sunshine, she would allow herself to bloom.
Chapter 8 (#ulink_259c39a6-3493-5b49-8d36-bee9e108a04d)
Seb would never understand but Evie had never imagined she could suddenly be so happily consumed. The books she collected from the library expanded her knowledge of the canal and its visionary, Riquet. Although she had yet to reveal anything about the peasant women, she was getting hungrier to succeed in finding information and to rise to Ben’s challenge. Ben showed great faith in her and had given her the chance to prove to herself that she may still have that head for journalism.
Already, from her little island, totalling almost three years of isolation, with only her own head for company, Evie felt her shores were spreading. Humans were now etching footsteps on her sands. Not only had her friendship with Suzanne blossomed this last year but her sister was on her way and Ben was in her life. And, Ben was inviting her to explore something. Something deeper, which she’d imagined had withered and died. That innate passion to enquire and write. It wasn’t just the opportunity to work at something she would find fulfilling, he was also making her think about the very direction her life was taking.
As she sat at the front terrace waiting for her sister, sheltering from the sun’s glare and basking in a fresh whirling breeze, Evie wondered if she had been deluded in thinking she was the right one for Seb. Ben was quite perceptive and his view would be from the male perspective, so what he’d intimated could be spot on. She found that disturbing, and not something she wanted to face. At least not now. After all, Seb wouldn’t go to such lengths if he didn’t feel something for her. No, she was going to force Seb’s negative influence from her mind today and focus instead on what was right for her. Hopefully, that included Cally. She checked her watch, which seemed to be moving extremely slowly, and grasped her stomach as it gurgled and churned inside. Today would be a test for them both but she hoped they could find some common ground.
Yes, she would be careful. Cally, in her eyes, had been unpredictable and mean in the past, but if her sister had taken the first step to reunite, she would be gracious enough to accommodate her and hope that they could start afresh.
As planned, she had prepared Charlotte’s cake and left it baking in the oven. She checked her watch again and peered in the window to Charlotte sleeping on the sofa. It was then she heard the car approaching. She waved as she recognised the face behind the wheel of the Fiat and unlocked the gates, opening them wide and beckoning her sister in.
Cally dashed from the car, threw out her arms and held Evie tight. ‘Wow,’ Cally squealed, freeing Evie from her embrace and eyeing her up and down, ‘you look amazing, and I can’t remember the last time your eyes sparkled like they are now.’
Taking a deep breath and shrugging her shoulders, Evie beamed. ‘Thank you,’ she said, stepping back and searching her sister’s face for sincerity.’ ‘You look well too.’ Evie reached for her sister’s long chestnut hair. ‘It suits you.’
Cally reached for her sister’s hand, startling her. It was a first. ‘Look. I know we haven’t got on over the years, but like I said on the phone, we are grown up now, I’m sorry I was such a cow and, as long as you can forgive me, I thought it was time we made amends.’
With her free hand, Evie rubbed her ear. ‘I agree. That would be nice,’ she said, leading Cally towards the front door and feeling the squeeze from her sister’s hand. This wasn’t the Cally she remembered.
‘I know. I should have been more supportive. I was telling Mum yesterday, it is sad, we have become so divided as a family. I hope Mum and Dad will come and see you too. Where is Seb, by the way?’
‘Working.’
‘It won’t be easy, but I want to try and make peace there too.’
Evie wanted to pinch herself. Cally was really surprising her now. She knew how much her sister and parents had hated Seb. Although she had made the choice when she agreed to his offer to live in the south of France, he was the one who had divided them completely – insisting she have nothing to do with them if they wouldn’t help support her. Naivety had prevailed. She should have been more assertive instead of letting him dictate who she could see. After all, they had offered support and she could have gone to live with her parents when they had planned to move to the West Country, but she had genuinely believed she would be happy with Seb – building a future together.
Breathing out a big sigh, Evie said, ‘I can honestly say, this last week had been a total whirlwind. Despite starting with a near-death experience, my week has been the best ever.’
‘What? What near-death…?’
‘Come in. I’ll get us a drink and tell you about it.’ Evie beckoned her sister inside and followed her over the threshold.’
‘I forgot how gorgeous this place is. I can understand why you were so tempted.’
Evie cleared her throat. She didn’t feel comfortable talking about the past. ‘Actually, I still have some wine that Seb left here last week, it’s not too early is it?’
Evie led her sister down the hall.
‘Wine! You won’t hear me complain.’
‘I just need to keep an eye on the cake. It’s in the oven. Do you want to take your bags up?’
‘Good idea.’
‘First room on the left,’ Evie said, looking searchingly at her sister and thinking Cally had expanded a few inches.
Cally unhooked her handbag from her shoulder and tossed it onto the hall chair before hauling her small case up the wide marble stairs. A magazine dropped to the floor from Cally’s handbag. Evie scooped it up; it was an in-flight magazine and as she flicked the pages, it opened at an article titled ‘Highlights of the Canal Du Midi’. As she padded down the hall to the kitchen, she began to read it through with interest.
‘Drink, Mummy?’ Charlotte cried from the sofa in the living area at the other end of the kitchen.
‘Oh sorry, cherub, did Mummy and Auntie Cally wake you?’ Evie threw the magazine onto an armchair as she dashed to the coffee table to retrieve the beaker of water for her daughter, settling her again with the drink and one of her picture books.
Cally entered the room directly from the hall by the sofa and immediately opened her arms, reaching out for Charlotte.
‘Oh, my goodness, haven’t you grown, you little beauty.’ She sat down beside her niece, who eyed her with suspicion.
‘Charlotte, this is Auntie Cally, do you remember when she came to your last birthday?’ Of course she didn’t, Evie didn’t know why she felt it necessary to humour her sister.
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed even further.
Cally gave Charlotte her sweetest smile. ‘I think I’ve just made her cross.’
‘She’s just woken up and isn’t sure who you are yet. Give her half an hour and she’ll be all over you.’
Poor Cally, Evie thought, but it was weird to think that, for once, she had more knowledge about something than her big sister.
‘Show Auntie Cally the picture of the ball.’
Charlotte sucked her bottom lip and shook her blonde curls.
‘Ok Auntie Cally. Come with me and we’ll get a drink. Charlotte, you can come and see us when you want to say hello.’
‘Mummy.’
‘I’m going to get Auntie Cally a drink. You can come too if you want.’
They left Charlotte on the sofa pondering and observing them with caution, book on her lap and cup in hand.
‘She’s so gorgeous.’ Cally clutched her heart as she followed Evie back to the kitchen.
‘Thank you. Have you heard from Mum?’
‘Oh, yes. I was going to text you yesterday, she’s fine. Probably drugged up to the eyeballs, but sounding so much better.’ Cally picked up the in-flight magazine from the chair, her mane of chocolate-brown hair tumbled to one side. ‘I’ve got one of these in my bag,’ she said holding up the magazine as Evie uncorked a bottle of white wine.
Evie glanced over. ‘It is yours. It fell onto the floor. I was reading… well, I started the article about the Canal du Midi. There’s barely anything interesting about the history or the local people who live and work around the canal, more about the village restaurants and cafes they can stroll to from their boat. I’ve learned so much about it since I’ve been living here, it’s fascinating.’
Cally heaved herself up on a stool at the shiny granite breakfast bar, watching her sister pour the cool golden liquid into two glasses. ‘I suspect that’s about it. Keeping the advertisers happy – they’ll want people to be off their boats and spending money in the villages rather than digging into its past.’
Evie placed the bottle back in the fridge and handed her sister a glass. ‘Unfortunately, you’re probably right. It would have been better to have added something of historical interest too. I mean, I’ve been delving deeper into the canal’s history and, flicking through this, there’s lots of potential for travel articles. Maybe I should submit something.’ Evie gasped, quite stunned at herself.
‘Go for it.’
‘Oh… I think I’m dreaming,’ she said whisking her hand to her mouth and chewing her nails. Could she really? She would certainly give it some thought. Though without a computer, she doubted it.
‘I’m surprised you haven’t been continuing with your writing.’
‘I’d like to, food for thought anyway. Thanks for coming.’ She raised her glass. ‘And here’s to us and a fresh start. Cheers.’
They chinked glasses.
‘Cheers.’
The oven buzzer sounded and Evie slammed down her glass and dashed for her oven gloves.
Cally sipped her wine. ‘Mmm, lovely, thanks. Well, perhaps that’s what you should be doing, sending out travel pieces on the area. Using those skills you got while you were at college, seems a waste not to. I’ve been thinking about re-training.’
‘What, give up DJ-ing?’ Evie said opening the oven door.
‘Well I can’t do it forever. I’ve been mixing and producing some stuff, but I don’t know. I think I should start planning a more solid future. Maybe go and teach Maths, or become an accountant. Get a real life. A bit like you and your writing; we’ve done the graft and the qualifications. What is it they say? Use it or lose it.’
‘The trouble is, I never really built up many contacts. I don’t know that I could start again.’
‘Well you’ve nothing to lose,’ Cally insisted.
As Evie took the cake and eased it gently out of the tin onto the cooling tray, she explained to her sister her new challenge.
‘Actually, I’m really excited. I’ve begun doing some research for a film about Pierre-Paul Riquet, the man who built the Canal du Midi.’
‘Really. How fascinating. How did that come about?’
After she told her about the accident at the bridge and the subsequent conversations with Ben, Cally looked horrified. ‘Jesus, Evie.’
Clutching her chest, Evie had to laugh. ‘But I am alive and grateful. In fact, it has been the wake-up call I needed.’ Evie then peeled greaseproof paper off the two sponges. It really had made her re-evaluate what was important, she realised.
‘What a relief you are ok. Bloody hell, Evie, what would you have done if you’d been killed? Charlotte would have been without a mother. I hope you have me down as your next-of-kin. Would Seb look after her? Don’t ever think Charlotte would be alone in this world, I’ll always be there for her. Jesus, that’s given me goosebumps.’
‘Well, thankfully it’s passed, but thank you. It’s something I need to discuss with Seb in more detail. Being nearby, I’ve asked my neighbour Suzanne to help if there was ever any such emergency. I’m sure she would let Seb know.’
‘It never struck my mind before now. God, I feel awful, Evie. I never imagined anything happening to you. But, you’re right, someone would need to get in touch with him. Of course, I’d be happy to help too if he needed someone to look after her. Ooh, it’s a horrible thought. Let’s change the subject.’
‘Well, I could give Suzanne your number too. Anyway, one good thing that came out of it is – I got to meet this guy Ben, and he’s keen for me to do his research… and pay me! Well, if he’s happy with it. It’s right up my street.’
‘Evie that’s great. I’m really happy for you. You’ll be thorough, I’ve no doubt about that. So how does it all fit exactly?’
‘Well, I’d read that a number of peasant women had been involved in the building of the canal because of their indigenous skills – so I told him, and he has asked me to explore that side of things to make his script more interesting.’ She licked her lips, ‘I haven’t told him it will be handwritten yet, but basically, if they helped design parts of the canal, he can’t completely overlook them in the film, can he? I don’t know much about his script. Maybe he’s making it high action, you know, all the macho-type of brawls in bars or fights on the land or holding back water, I don’t know.’ Evie threw the greasy wrappings into the steel bin in the corner by the French doors. Then thinking aloud she added, ‘Actually, I could type it up in the library and print it off. It’s just a one-off.
‘As a short-term measure, yes, it’s a good idea. But that’s so encouraging, you really should get back to your writing. Freelance would be ideal for you.’
‘I don’t know. I’ve never put it to the test. Possibly, something to think about for the future. It won’t get me out and about though, will it? I would like a job where I meet new people, waitressing or something. Wow, suddenly there’s so much I need to have a think about. I was just so shocked Ben asked me to do it, and pay me. A bit short-sighted really. It didn’t occur to me to turn it down because I didn’t have a computer.’
‘Ask Seb for a computer.’
‘Maybe.’ Evie tensed. She couldn’t admit to her sister that Seb had denied her a computer when she’d asked. And she really was racing ahead. Seb would object to her working anyway, so it was best not to go off at a tangent.
Cally appeared pensive. ‘You could have my old laptop actually. I would need to clean it up a bit, but it would be ideal for your writing. Do you have the internet here?’
Evie shook her head. She had not thought that far ahead. ‘No. But that would be great just to be able to use it for typing and storing files. I can then transfer them on a memory stick and print them at the library or set up an email account there and send them.’
‘It would be far easier with the internet here. At least you wouldn’t have to race out every time you need to send stuff. And you wouldn’t need to print it. Ask Seb for the internet.’
Like it was that easy. Evie feigned a smile and bit her lip. It would be hard to admit to any of her family the difficulties she’d had with Seb; the penny-pinching lifestyle, his meagre allowance, not to mention his restrictions. And she didn’t wish to sound ungrateful either. Wiping her forehead, Evie knew her sister would give her the I-told-you-so speech.
‘Seb’s not keen on me having anything more than the basics. I suppose he foots the bills. That’s another reason I need to find some work. I could really do with having a bit of extra money as well as a bit of independence.’
‘Really? I thought he provided everything you wanted. I mean, that man must be loaded! So, you don’t have the WAG champagne mornings or charity bashes, pamper days and all the usual millionaire lifestyle trappings?’
‘Blimey, no. I don’t think Seb’s that wealthy, not to that extent anyway. And I wouldn’t like that anyway.’ Evie clambered onto a stool next to her sister. The conversation was now becoming embarrassing and she knew her life would sound exactly as her sister and parents had predicted – that Seb was keeping her sweet to keep control and prevent any scandal. How she would have loved to have proved them wrong, but how could she?
‘I’m a bit surprised if I’m honest. ‘Cally climbed down and collected her bag from the hall, lifted out her phone and began searching the internet. ‘Ok, I’m sure you could get a cheap internet connection. It can go on your phone line. And the next time I come I’ll bring the laptop.’
‘There’s no house phone. Just my pay-as-you-go on this phone.’ Evie held up the old mobile.’
Cally’s eyes widened. ‘Are you kidding? That would be worth more as an antique. Have you even got a camera on there?’ Cally whipped it from her hand, inspecting the screen.
‘Sadly not.’
‘So, no photos of Charlotte?’
Evie shook her head and at the same time gasped. ‘Seb has some on his camera that he’ll print off!’
Cally’s eyebrows stayed fixed as she gave her an incredulous glare.
‘Suzanne has taken some with her phone. She said she will get some printed for me. And, Dad took some last year,’ Evie said hopelessly.
‘Seb can’t leave you a camera?’
Evie’s mouth twisted. It wasn’t something she’d considered early on. Seb had taken numerous photos when Charlotte was a baby but, she had to admit, he hadn’t taken any recently. ‘No. I keep meaning to ask him to leave one.’
‘Oh, Evie, that’s…’
‘Mummy.’ Charlotte sauntered up to the breakfast bar dividing the kitchen and living area.
Cally peered down at her niece as though longing to pick up the child.
‘Hello, poppet.’ Evie stepped down and lifted her to her lap with them at the breakfast bar.
‘I should have brought her another pressie as an ice-breaker,’ Cally told her. ‘I only bought a birthday present.’ She glanced down at her arm full of bangles and bracelets. ‘Can she play with these?’
‘Yes, it’s fine as long as we’re here to watch her.’
Charlotte was soon sitting on her auntie’s lap playing with the novelty costume bangles, slipping them on and off her arms. Evie was delighted that the girls were bonding and enjoyed watching them before going outside and setting the bench table up. She had prepared a colourful salad for lunch under the vine leaf shade.
‘Oh, that food looks divine, Evie.’ Cally carried Charlotte out to the table and kept her on her lap. ‘You are such a sweetie, just like your mummy.’
Hearing such endearing words from her sister brought a lump to Evie’s throat. She collected the wine glasses and placed them on the table before nestling in the seat facing Cally. She swallowed a sip of wine and, blinking back tears, chopped food onto Charlotte’s plate.
Cally squeezed her niece and at the same time kissed her cheek repeatedly, before sitting her in her highchair at the end of the table.
Evie battled to control the tear escaping down her cheek. It splashed, staining the table. If her sister had seen it, then thankfully she wasn’t fussing. They ate in silence.
Cally’s rapid jerk startled her. Evie frowned as her sister glared at the bushes a few feet away.
‘Hello.’ Cally leaped out of her seat, gripping her knife and racing to a boundary hedge. Leaning forward and stretching out her neck, she called, ‘I know you’re there.’
Chapter 9 (#ulink_31d43095-4f31-51c3-a41e-5ffe746f676b)
‘Here, hold Charlotte,’ Cally said, dashing back to Evie who was now on her feet, stunned and holding out her arms. Cally extracted Charlotte from her highchair and passed her to her mum.
‘You be careful,’ Evie warned as she heard a rustling on the other side of the tall shrubs, then a thump.
She watched as her sister unlocked the front gate and raced down the side of the property, where a path led to the canal. Tempted to run out after her, Evie turned and unbolted another gate by the table leading to the front of the house which faced the canal. She ran straight to the railing on the front terrace, flicking her head both ways along the grassy stretch beside the water. Only her sister appeared from the alley, gasping for breath.
‘Strange. Whoever it was must have jumped the fence into that garden. Probably still in there.’
Cally scrunched her hair with her hands and pulled it to one side. ‘Ok. Keep a watch on that gate this end, I’ll go back to the other.’
Several minutes later, Cally appeared on the terrace behind Evie. ‘He’s not coming out, is he?’
Evie felt the blood rush from her cheeks. ‘Clearly not, if it is a he?’
‘Yes, I’m sure it was a he. Dark hair, quite young. I just saw part of a face. Unnerving to say the least. Have you noticed anyone before?’
‘No. That cottage is being renovated. I doubt if it was Bram. Maybe it’s some paparazzi. That’ll please Seb – not! Go back to the back entrance and I’ll go and knock at the front. Hold Charlotte a moment, I need to climb out.’ Evie passed Charlotte to Cally and at the corner post hurled one leg over before leaning forward and kicking over the other. ‘Ouch. Not a recommended route,’ she said rubbing her inner thigh and taking Charlotte back before pottering off to the neighbouring gate.
Once in, Evie banged the door knocker twice, peeking her head to the side where a low picket fence edged the side and rear gardens. There was no sign of an intruder nor was there any answer from the cottage. Whoever it was could be in the back, but there was no way she could hurdle over the thicket of shrubs. She pondered whether to wait, hearing fast footsteps from the alley. Her sister appeared, almost breathless.
‘We missed him. He’d come out and was running down the track. I chased for a while but he was too fast. I saw him run down the road and hop onto a bike.’ Cally stopped to breathe. ‘He’s short, about our height I suppose, dark hair with jeans and a green t-shirt.’
‘Oh, Cally, bless you,’ Evie said, gripping her sister’s shoulder, ‘you’re so brave, running after him. I wonder if he’s from the press?’
Cally’s chest heaved and she pressed her hand to her collarbones. ‘Evie, he could be a menace, especially when you’re on your own here.’
‘But I’ve never seen anyone before. Maybe he was walking passed, was just having a nose, and panicked when he heard you call.’
‘You’re so trusting. Why did he run like hell, and why would he leave his bike down the road?’
Evie’s hand flew to her mouth and her stomach lurched. She took in a deep breath. ‘Shit. You’re right.’ Her hand curled around Charlotte. ‘That is weird behaviour. I’ll have to work out the security system. I have to admit, Seb’s a bit of an anorak when it comes to using the alarms and cameras. He did show me but I’m hopeless. But why would he be snooping? It can only be the press.’
Cally began walking and Evie followed, stopping to watch as her sister rolled over the railing to the terrace as simply as walking through a door. She handed Charlotte to Cally’s waiting arms and attempted the easy-looking manoeuvre with less dignity.
‘Ooh, ouch,’ she said, clambering off-balance to one side. ‘Out of practice, clearly.’
‘Perhaps he’s a stalker. I didn’t see him carrying a camera. We’ll have a look at your security, and keep your eyes peeled, anywhere, any time. Maybe we can catch him if you have CCTV.’
Evie scanned behind her as she held the gate open for Cally, who was still holding Charlotte. Immediately, she secured the lock and ran her fingers around her neck, pinching her hairline.
‘Ok, erm, right, did you lock the double gates?’
‘Yes.’
‘Let me get Charlotte a drink and I’ll get the security info – if I can remember where I’ve put it.’
‘Well let’s not spoil your lovely lunch but yes, priority afterwards, and then we can walk down to the supermarket and I’ll buy some more wine. Oh, have you got candles for the cake?’
Keeping a grip on her lip, Evie was only half listening. Would the press be onto them? ‘Ah, good think…’
‘And some candles for the cake.’ Cally affirmed. ‘Come on, relax. I don’t think he’ll be in a rush to come back. He knows we’re onto him. Enjoy your lunch. We have a party to organise.’
Feeling nauseous and trying to contain her frenzy, Evie relished her sister’s help and specifically, Cally’s penchant for survival skills. She admired her tendency to question everything, and she didn’t hesitate to scare the man off. Although Evie had a curious mind for certain things, her sister certainly had high self-awareness. A trait she lacked. Whether it was innate or whether Cally had learned to adapt – coping with living alone, having to make her way home in the early hours of the morning – she could only guess, but compared to herself, she had the prowess of a tiger. She was certainly more conscious of her surroundings and safety, plus she’d quickly managed to get the cameras and security working, explaining it better than Seb. She just hoped she could remember it all.
Returning from their shopping trip, her sister had also revealed a penchant for creativity Evie hadn’t encountered before. Cally had bought fondant icing for the cake; so much icing that in fact, she had not only covered the cake, but also inserted two fondant ears at the top, then added pink fondant features – transforming it into the face of a sweet little kitten. Charlotte was going to love it. Evie was so grateful to her sister, she was certainly opening her eyes to what could be done, and she was cheeky too. Whilst in the supermarket, twin girls from the park, about a year older than Charlotte, were shopping with their mother and began chatting, then out of the blue Cally invited them along to Charlotte’s party. Evie thought it such a courageous thing to do, but it worked. Charlotte would enjoy two new friends at her party to play with, as well as Suzanne. They were lovely girls too and, Evie hoped, it could be the start of new friendships for Charlotte and possibly herself, if she got to know their mother.
Sadly, the only people missing were her grandparents and, of course, Seb. She’d had to remind her sister not to mention his name in front of Suzanne, which didn’t feel right. It was becoming increasingly difficult to talk to Cally about Seb in Suzanne’s presence, trying to keep his identity under wraps. But, with strangers snooping around, it was probably best for now.
Charlotte loved her party however, and marvelled at the kitten cake, and having friends to play with. Like her daughter, Evie squealed in delight when Charlotte unwrapped Cally’s present. It contained a little pink pushchair, a baby doll, and two CD’s; a nursery rhyme CD and a children’s party CD, which Evie instantly put on for them all to dance and play games. Cally, it turned out, was as much a child as the little girls, playing games, dancing with them and making them laugh. After the twins and their mum had gone home, although exhausted after putting Charlotte to bed, Evie poured out three glasses of Languedoc sparkling wine and carried them out to Cally and Suzanne out on the front terrace.
Cally put her feet up on a stool as she sipped from her champagne flute. ‘Phew, children are hard work aren’t they?’
‘Well three, yes. They all played together nicely though. I don’t think Charlotte has quite grasped the concept of sharing yet, but they muddled through.’ Evie said.
Suzanne sipped her wine, and licking her lips added, ‘I thought it was a perfect party for a two-year-old. We always had too many at our parties when I was a child. Small groups work better in my mind.’
‘Mum always limited ours to twelve, didn’t she Evie? She didn’t like all the hard work that parties entailed. She was also selective about which friends we were allowed to invite.’
Immediately Evie pointed her chin in the air, holding her tongue. Yes, her mother often told them who they should mix with. She’d rarely heard her sister speak negatively about their mother. Cally had been worse than her parents – making snide or seemingly unfair judgements about Seb and how Evie had been a fool to mess up her life… however right she’d turned out to be. At the time, Evie wondered if her sister was jealous of what she had with Seb. Perhaps she was just a better judge of character than herself.
‘You’ll live to regret it.’ Cally had told her. ‘You’ve had a taste of the real Seb, so why stay with someone who treats you with so little respect?’ And wasn’t that just what her mother wanted to hear.
‘Well, Steve, she’ll just have to get on with it,’ her mother Jill had said to her father as though Evie wasn’t in the room. ‘I think we know why he’s bought that lovely villa and is keeping them both. He’s keeping control to suit himself so she won’t run to the press. Let’s just pray they’ll come to no harm, or that she comes to her senses.
Try as she might, Evie still couldn’t blank those words from her memory. They were embedded, as much as she had tried her damnedest to forget them and make the most of her life with Seb and Charlotte. She’d been desperate to prove them all wrong. But now, deep down – and, it was hard to admit – she understood that her family had been genuinely concerned for her.
‘Well, I suppose Mum had her reasons. I understand better now where she’s coming from as a parent. She was being protective by choosing our friends I expect. I’ve got over it now - managed on my own and find myself becoming increasingly used to it.’ Evie held out her glass. ‘But, I have to say, I’m really enjoying having you both here. So cheers!’
Suzanne raised her glass, but Cally put down hers. ‘Evie, from what you’ve told me, you do worry about it, otherwise you wouldn’t have this desire to want to improve your situation. Let me tell you, it’s ok to admit you want change.’
Evie sat forward, curling a strand of hair. She was silent for a few moments trying to catch her breath. It was cutting but not in the old sense. Cally wasn’t bitching or being nasty, trying to put her down… she was being honest. She appreciated that now, and she should be honest about her needs too. Meeting Ben had opened her eyes to her lack of autonomy.
‘I’m working on it Cally, and I’m glad you came. I always thought you were mean, but I think it’s becoming clearer now and I feel I’m just getting to know you.’
They continued chatting about their childhood, both revealing their petty hates.
Cally began. ‘Oh, I did hate you when Mum always stuck up for you and fussed over her “little Evie”. And when she made me wear blue and you had the pretty pink.’
Evie gave a giggle. ‘Ha, that’s so funny. I was always under the impression you were so bloody perfect and could do no wrong in Mum’s eyes. You got all the praise.’ Evie hadn’t quite realised until now why they had been at each other’s throats all these years, but this was all very simple. They both craved approval from their parents. A sibling rivalry – probably the most natural thing in the world. They just hadn’t dealt with it.
‘I know Mum wasn’t happy after you left uni to DJ, but I think you were her favourite until then.’
‘I got angry when Mum wasn’t happy about you having a baby. I saw the hurt in her eyes and I think that was the first time I had heard her complain about you. My theory is, I think she was embarrassed both of us had let her down after doing so well with our studies. I wonder if that’s what truly drove them away to Florida. Her and Dad, I mean. I wonder if they couldn’t face the shame of village gossip and disappointment. You know what she’s like, Mum was always proud, the pillar of the community… well, chief delegator at least.’ Cally looked Evie in the eye. ‘What do you think?’
Evie gave a sigh and nodded. ‘She is a proud woman and you’re possibly right. Maybe we both killed her dreams and she was running away, escaping from her less-than-perfect life.’
‘And Dad would have been behind her one hundred per cent.’
‘Sad, isn’t it. That we’ve hurt them so much. And one another. I wish I could make it up to them.’ Evie had been stunned when her parents announced they were going to live so far away. And it was only a few weeks after she told them she had made her decision to move to France that they shipped off their furniture and left.
‘It is sad. I would love us to be together again too. I still miss them. Family, home, the community. It’s quite comforting to know you and Charlotte are here. I love Charlotte so much. She is such a gorgeous little thing. I’m going to try and get back as much as I can to see you both. I’ve had some personal challenges and the hardest part was not having someone who cared… I want to be here for you both. Like me, I think you’ve spent too much time on your own.’
‘More wine?’ Trying hard to conceal tears, Evie hurried to the kitchen. Cally was speaking from the heart and it stung, but Evie felt that her sister was holding back. What challenges hadn’t she told her about? She grabbed a tissue to wipe her eyes. Hearing Cally speak so affectionately and wishing to create a new future had turned her to mush. Her instinct was to hug her sister and tell her she felt the same. Her big sister, now, for some reason, really seemed to care – which was so weird, but wonderful. She wasn’t casting out aspersions or being contrary like she used to.
Checking her face in the mirror, Evie ran up the stairs to check on Charlotte. Curled on her side, she slept soundly. Evie pulled the door to and returned to the kitchen, took the opened bottle of wine from the fridge and pottered back to the terrace where her sister and friend were frantically giggling. She wanted to pinch herself, it made such a change to have love and laughter in her home.
Suzanne looked up at Evie. ‘No more wine for me, thank you. I must go. We were just laughing about our dreams as children. Cally said she wanted to be on TV presenting Countdown like Carol Vorderman and I told her I wanted to be an astronaut. We agreed we had come some way to fulfilling our wishes, I’ve travelled… to France, and she’s working in the entertainment industry.’
Evie joined in the laughter.
‘What did you want to do?’ Cally asked. ‘Oh, actually, I might know this. You wanted to work in the library. You were always stamping your books.’
‘Yes, never overly ambitious. I think I just wanted to be like my big sister.’
‘How sweet.’ Suzanne cooed as Cally reached for her hand.
‘It’s true.’ Evie squeezed her sister’s hand in return. ‘So, what have been your challenges and what are your dreams?’ Evie searched from one to the other.
Cally pinched her brow, lifting her right eye. ‘Challenge – to find a way of living in England to study; get on a teaching course, ideally. My dream is to have a lovely job and home.’
‘Hmm,’ Evie’s mouth twisted. That didn’t work. She should have asked: what challenges have you had? She and Cally turned to their Dutch friend.
Suzanne smiled, looked down at her skirt and began fiddling with the overlocking on her hem. ‘I would love to have a baby, so that s my challenge and my dream.’
Immediately, blood rushed to Evie’s head. All eyes were on her. The two things she possessed were other’s dreams.
‘Well, I can share what I have, for now, at least. Cally, you can treat this as your home. You are welcome to come and stay any time, and you too Suzanne – Charlotte will be only too pleased to have you as her Auntie Suzy until you have your own little one. I can’t help feeling I will be the one benefitting from this though, having you both to share my good fortune with.’
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