Книга The Vineyard - читать онлайн бесплатно, автор Karen Aldous. Cтраница 2
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The Vineyard
The Vineyard
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The Vineyard

Her mind switched to the earlier presence of the stranger and she grew suspicious. Was he also under the spell of her mother’s unfaltering and selfish manipulation? Revulsion blazed from her green eyes as she prised herself away from her mother, who she now couldn’t bear the proximity of.

‘Who is that Cal guy who came into the kitchen earlier? Does he live here?’

Her mother’s eyes dimmed as she observed her daughter for a while, saying nothing, Lizzie then saw her chin dimpling while her now creasing lips quivered. Was she going to cry, Lizzie wondered? She searched the moistening eyes as her mother regained her composure ready to speak, eyes averted, fingers sweeping the silvery bob and wrapping a strand behind her ear.

‘Cal is leasing Cote Acres for a few years to establish a vineyard. He approached us, grandad and I, to lease some land rather than buy, so it made sense.’

‘Really. Good for him!’ Lizzie smarted. ‘So how do you know him?’ she urged, blatantly concluding the foolish woman had let her heart rule her head, allowing this tall stranger to take over her grandfather’s land; actually her land, her inheritance!

Caroline shrugged uncomfortably.

‘A friend introduced us at the wine club in the village. I thought the extra income would be useful. He’s experimenting with different grapes to produce good quality English wines, in particular sparkling wines like Champagne so it seemed like a perfect solution. Your grandfather was very proud that the vines from his land produced such a lovely wine.’

‘But that land isn’t yours to lease out,’ Lizzie voice rose, ‘Cote Acres is the land Grandad promised me for my equestrian centre.’

Lizzie saw her mother’s lips tighten as Caroline sat back.

‘Your grandfather agreed with me it would be a good idea for the farm and for a bit of extra money. It woke us up to the potential of the southerly slopes that’s for sure.’ Caroline’s voice was becoming harsh. And Lizzie was not surprised when her mother struck the table with her hand as her indignant temper briskly lashed out like a snake’s tongue. ‘You, Elizabeth Lambert, have never been aware of what has gone on here. It was you who chose to run away from us. You who didn’t care or haven’t given a damn about anyone other than yourself. I don’t suppose you ever thought about anyone here whilst gallivanting around Europe, and since your father’s death it hasn’t exactly been a luxurious ride. We’ve just about been comfortable so, even though your father made some provision, and with my work dwindling, supplementing our income was a practical solution.’

As Lizzie sat hunched, observing her mother’s fury, Caroline’s fiery features fired closer.

‘And, it made a difference to your grandfather too. He managed to afford a couple of trips he would not otherwise have had. I’ve had the opportunity to do more and, darling, no-one is taking any inheritance from you.’

‘Grandad said…’ Lizzie began.

‘That was years ago, girl. Since when did you care about him? You’ll get your inheritance when I go. Aren’t I entitled to have some pleasure or benefit from it? Anyway, it’s only a short-term agreement with Cal.’

‘Oh, how short is short term?’ Lizzie demanded, now feeling her mother was selling her a sob story.

‘Just ten years, then…’

‘What! Ten years, short term? Poor Grandad, manipulated by his daughter-in-law and her lover,’ Lizzie hurled as she watched her mother’s mouth hang open with surprise. ‘He was probably frail, vulnerable and at your mercy. How could you? You knew he wouldn’t live that long.’

‘Look Lizzie. We, your grandfather and I, agreed just ten years with a review after that,’ her mother defended herself and then, lowering her voice, continued, ‘I see that as reasonable and so should you. You can’t pretend to be interested in what is happening here when you couldn’t even be bothered to contact us for five years. You can’t then just turn up thinking you have a right to claim anything which you so obviously haven’t missed.’

Again, the truth in her mother’s argument, as always, struck her to the core making it bleed and blister, but as she saw it too, she was the victim here. She was the one betrayed. Struggling to rein in her emotions she repeated strong, and at least resisted the urge to run, to escape as she always did in fight or flight mode. She willed her legs not to dash for the door, although it was obvious there was no love to be had here.

Strong. The word flashed in her head. Fight. Finally, for the first time in her life, Lizzie released the trigger as pent up emotion shot out like ammunition. Coercing her grandfather was unforgivable.

‘I don’t care what you say, I know Grandad would have wanted me to have that land,’ she insisted, her voice trembling. ‘He would never give it to a complete stranger over me.’

‘He did, it’s true but, it was you who opted to run, hide and desert your family. I think I have the right to make decisions when it concerns my home, my future, my income.’

‘And, your lover?’ Lizzie snapped bitterly. ‘A bit young for you. How could you?’

‘Cal’s not…’ her mother started.

‘Huh! You can’t lie your way out of this one now,’ Lizzie broke in, unprepared for a showdown but determined for once to stand her ground, ‘I know when I’m not welcome, an intruder in my own home. I can’t stop you giving your inheritance away to any chancer or opportunist who feels he can wrap you around his little finger. And, I won’t disturb your seedy little love nest.’ Before she could stop herself, Lizzie’s feet backed towards the door. ‘And neither will I support you when you humiliate yourself and he has stripped you of everything you own.’

Lizzie felt the chill from her mother’s icy stare.

‘It is none of your business who my lover is or what age he is come to that. I’ll lead my life as I see fit. That’s right, run. There’s no money here if that’s all you came back for. If you cared, you would have been here or at least contacted your grandfather.’ Her mother’s barb hit as intended, cruelly.

Lizzie had heard enough. Fight Fight – you have nothing to lose now. She swallowed hard as if to steady her gun and braced her lips to fire out every bullet which had been loaded inside her over the last twenty five years.

‘Ok, did you ever stop to think why I ran? ‘Did I ever have any reason to come home? Did I ever do anything for you to make you proud? Did I ever achieve what you wanted? Did I ever dress or look how you wanted? Did I ever have the friends or relationships you approved of? Tell me, was I ever good enough? Oh, that’s right, you weren’t here for most of my childhood so you didn’t really know me. What is there to come back to?’

Now, she had to go. There was no point in awaiting an answer. She knew them all too well. She scrambled to the hall shaking her head. She grabbed her bag, her mother hovering speechless behind.

‘I really don’t know why you had me in the first place,’ Lizzie surged on. ‘Go, tend to your toy boy.’

Her body shook. How swiftly her emotions had ruptured, spilling out, baring themselves. Followed by burning tears blurring her vision as she flew towards the door. Squinting to focus, she hauled her bag over one shoulder, fumbled for the door and made her exit, striding off across the shingle.

Chapter 2

‘I should be with you about nine Sophie. Is that ok?’ Lizzie placed her mobile in front of her on the table. The carriage was thankfully quiet as the train made its way to Paris at high speed. Her voice was very controlled, but her tears still persisted. It had never occurred to her that anything would ever happen to her grandfather. It was like reliving the nightmare of her father’s death. The shock that someone so big and strong and loving could perish just like that. The mind didn’t comprehend such tragedy and she certainly hadn’t anticipated it. So, family: none as far as she was concerned. With her grandfather now gone and, being betrayed by her own mother, that chapter was now finished. Lizzie closed her eyes, her mind brimming full of the brief but bitter day’s events.

Arriving on the third floor at her friend’s apartment, Lizzie threw herself sobbing into Sophie’s arms as soon as she opened her door.

‘You look awful Lizzie – what is it?’ Sophie picked up the luggage, set it down again and then took a hesitant step forward. Lizzie could tell by her friend’s actions and flushed complexion that she was at a loss for what to do next.

‘Leave the bags on the floor Lizzie and I’ll deal with those in a minute. You need to sit down before you fall down – come with me.’ Sophie led Lizzie to the sofa in the sitting room. The French doors, open overlooking the street, let in the traffic noise which became suddenly stressful. Sophie sat her distressed friend down and pulled the doors in to dull the intruding city.

‘I’ll just take your bags from the corridor and put them in the hall. Don’t move.’ she instructed. ‘Right,’ she said on her return, ‘you need a drink and a good listener I think!’ Sophie poured two glasses of French red wine and placed one on a small table near to her distraught friend and one-time colleague.

‘I am so selfish Soph,’ Lizzie said, throwing her head into her hands. ‘I suppose I thought I was being smart.’

‘Tell me please, what’s happened?’

Lizzie took a gulp of the wine and swallowed with aggrieved satisfaction. ‘I finally made that trip to see my mother and grandfather. I told you I was going back to England to see them – to tell them about…’

‘Yes. And?’

Lizzie swirled her wine steadily around the glass for several seconds before she managed another gulp and swirled some more.

‘Well…’ she sniffed. ‘I saw my mother this morning and at first everything was going fine, she was actually really pleased to see me but then…,’ she added shakily, ‘she told me my grandfather died last year and…, my mother has some toy boy or…or new husband, I don’t know. Anyway, she has moved a stranger, a man, her lover into the house, no doubt to keep her entertained. God knows how he manages to listen to her garble on about herself all the time and, not only has he moved into my home, my father’s and my grandfather’s home, but she has leased him my land. The land my grandfather left me for my equestrian centre is now a vineyard. A vineyard would you believe it? All mum could say was’ “It’s produced lovely sparkling wine – just like French Champagne”’ Lizzie’s high-pitched mimicry of her mother suddenly trailed off into tears. She then gulped another large mouthful from her glass, finishing it.

‘Whoa! There’s a lot going on here.’ Sophie grabbed a tissue from the box on the coffee table and swiftly nestled into Lizzie on the sofa. ‘Come here,’ she said, embracing her gently. ‘Come on. Sophie’s here,’ she said, stroking her friend’s thick, softly curled hair, soothing Lizzie’s emotions. ‘I’m so sorry about your grandfather. I wish there…’

‘I’m really not seeking sympathy – not after the way I behaved, I just needed to talk to you. I’m so sorry imposing on you like this but I was just so shocked…and trying to get my head round it all. I swear she put my grandfather up to agreeing to lease the land to her boyfriend for her own interest. She’ll only pursue what makes her happy. Her toy boy will have to have a heart of concrete, a fucked up mind and hopefully a strong fist to put her in her place!’

Lizzie leaned back, folding her tissue and dabbing her face. Her mind skipped to her mother’s lover, trying to recall his name, but images of his masterful, strong hands and broad shoulders momentarily intercepted and she caught her breath.

‘That’s a bit strong Lizzie. Calm down. Fancy, your mother has a toy boy? I can’t imagine my mother…no,’ interjected her friend, jolting her out of her reverie. Sophie was facing her and shifting hair away from Lizzie’s damp jaw.

‘Cal.’ she recalled his name. ‘Oh Sophie, you should see him, he is gorgeous, far too good for her.’ She tried to blur the image of him as it became vivid, his neglected ash-brown hair that was spattered with glistening gold tips draped across his mesmerizing dark eyes and his lips, oh those lips, so perfectly plump and ripe for kissing. Flutters surged through her core.

‘Lizzie, really. You’re angry as well as upset! You’ve obviously had a very nasty shock or, should I say, a few nasty shocks today, plus all that travelling you’ve done. Let me run you a nice warm bath. I’ll make you something to eat while you relax.’

Lizzie did as she was told and soaked a while in the bath, doing everything she could to thrust Cal from her mind. What was she thinking? Attractive as Cal was, he was in a relationship with her mother. He loves her. It was outrageous to even think about him. Get a grip girl.

***

‘I think it was a mistake to go back home,’ Lizzie admitted, tying the bath gown around her waist and following a welcoming spicy aroma to where Sophie stood in the kitchen stir-frying vegetables in a pan. Guilty now that she had severely lost her appetite, she wondered if Sophie’s efforts would all be in vain. Her friend gave her a sisterly smile.

‘Actually no, I don’t think so, on the contrary. It hurts now but you had to do it sometime and today was as good a time as any. Did you tell your mother about Thierry?’

‘Luckily, no, thank God. I feel so much for Thierry. What was I thinking, bringing a child into this world with no proper family?’

How was she to explain all this to Thierry when the time came? ‘He’s a happy, healthy child Lizzie.’

‘But he will only know me and an au-pair, Marie-Claire! Oh, yes,’ she gave Sophie’s elbow a quick squeeze, ‘he also has his lovely aunty Sophie too, of course.’

‘Absolutely’ Sophie nodded as she gathered some cutlery for the table. ‘Aunty Sophie is definitely not going anywhere.’

‘It’s really sad and I really wish Thierry had had the opportunity to meet my grandad. He would have loved him. I have so many fond memories. I must have really let grandad down when I didn’t return home.’

Her throat tightened as his kind old face flashed across her mind. She was, after all, all he had left after her father died. He’d suddenly lost a son, his only son, and she couldn’t imagine anything worse than losing a child. She had lost her father but to witness her grandfather and grandmother cry really hurt. Whilst her mother appeared so indifferent, so unemotional, arranging the funeral and nagging her to do her homework when all she wanted to do was hide away in her room and cry and think of him. Lizzie swept her wet hair back and clipped it.

‘I’m just so relieved I didn’t take Thierry along, how bloody awful that would have been.’

‘Take it one step at a time. You’ll be fine.’ Sophie scattered place mats on the table. ‘I know you will Lizzie. You’re a survivor and I’m sure you will sort things out once you’ve had a chance to think about them rationally. Your emotions are all over the place at the moment and, who knows, you may meet that someone special who will bring you happiness. Have you heard anything from Anton since?’ Sophie enquired.

‘No, nothing, which is strange after his angry outburst when he found out about Thierry. I wonder if he’s changed his mind. I’m just so glad I stayed away from that relationship. Can you imagine? That man must be totally deluded if he thinks he could become domesticated.’

Lizzie squirmed remembering the scene several weeks ago. He’d caught her completely by surprise, demanding to know if her child was his. Not only was she shocked but also unprepared. She openly admitted Thierry was his. Anton was furious, demanding to know why she hadn’t told him. Why would she? He wouldn’t have been interested. He wasn’t that interested in his son now. No, she imagined Anton’s only interest was himself and the control it could give him.

‘Well considering he was threatening to get custody when you saw him.’

‘Bizarre yes. I should have just denied Thierry was his. I’m so stupid.

‘Well, like he said, he could have a DNA test.’

‘That’s it. It’s so easy nowadays. So bloody annoying and when he told me that his sister Colette was sure the child was his, it unnerved me because why would she come to the salon when they have their own spa at the hotel. Do you think they’ve suspected for a while?’

‘No, Anton would have questioned you before. Perhaps they don’t want to be that intimate with their own staff.’

‘Maybe their staff refuse to treat them more like. I don’t have contact with her if I can help it.’

‘Or it could simply be she likes the best.’ Sophie nudged her friend.

‘C’est vrai! Or, maybe she is Anton’s spy’. Lizzie raised her hand pretending to hold a magnifying glass.

‘Ha! Planning a grandchild snatch!’ Sophie mocked.

‘Well, they can think again. He’s my son. I’ve been controlled enough by my mother – I’d have been mad to have been sucked in to his lifestyle of drugs and paranoia. Hardly child-friendly.

‘Absolutely, you did the right thing.’

‘Yes, just me and Thierry. No Anton. No mother. We’ve managed this long. Well, I don’t know what I’d have done without you, of course. But I’m not going to give my witch of a mother any more of my precious time and I’m certainly not giving her the opportunity to start controlling Thierry’s life. Like I said, my only regret really is that Grandad didn’t meet Thierry and vice versa. They would have so loved one another.’ Lizzie made a sad face. ‘They were my main reason for going home. I’m sure anyone in their right mind wouldn’t have bothered returning to see a mother like mine. Thankfully, I have you.’ Lizzie blew a kiss as she looked lovingly at her friend. ‘It’s a shame we don’t live closer.’

‘Actually, I have some news on that score.’ Sophie’s voice brightened as she brought the dinner plates and placed them on the table, then looked up with a wide grin. ‘I have been accepted to lecture at the Nice University two days a week and can finally move south.’

‘Oh Sophie, that’s wonderful. All your hard work is paying off. All those years. I’m really, really pleased for you.’ Lizzie threw out her arms in an excited lunge towards her friend and squeezed her tight. ‘I’m so sorry it’s all been about me. We should be celebrating your good news. So, does that mean…?’

‘Yes. I can be your plastic surgeon and chief filler if you’ll still have me join Beaute Dedans?’

‘Oh my God, yes. I’ll go and get a bottle of bubbly’.

‘No need.’ Sophie opened the fridge and produced one. ‘I went out and bought one as soon as you said you were on your way. I didn’t know what you had just been through then though’.

‘All I can say is, thank God I have you. You are my family. We need to celebrate.’

The Champagne cork popped and sprang to the ceiling to both their delight and giggles.

‘I am so excited.’ Sophie squealed, pouring the sparkling nectar into two Champagne flutes.

‘Oh you know how to cheer up your best friend. That’ll be so amazing. We’ll be able to see much more of each other. Congratulations! Sante!’ They both lifted their glasses as joy replaced the tears. ‘Here’s to you, Dr Sophie Pitou, soon to be lecturer and, leading plastic surgeon in Cannes!’

‘Oh Lizzie it’s amazing. All those plans we had when we were in Meursault at the Campsite. Well, we are certainly getting closer to our dream and the university environment will help so I can keep up with research and development, trials and new ideas.’

‘I have every faith in you Dr Pitou.’

‘Thank you Ms Lambert I’m sure your make-up and beauty treatments will complement my procedures perfectly.’

‘Absolutely.’

The next morning, the alarm sounded at six and both girls woke with groggy heads. Sophie rushed to the shower whilst Lizzie made fresh coffee in the kitchen. ‘Oh I hope I haven’t made you late for work.’

‘No don’t be silly. I have plenty of time, I just need something to soothe the head.’

‘I have some paracetemol in my bag,’ Lizzie said, digging into her handbag and pulling out the packet.

‘Thanks. I’ll have just one please.’ Sophie popped the pill and sat quickly at the table.

‘I think I’ll take one too, otherwise I’ll have this all day.’

I’ve been thinking,’ Sophie started as she began sipping her cooling coffee. What if we spend some time together soon, the three of us, you me and Thierry? We can take a short break up in the hills, in Provence or something, later this month?’

‘Ahh! May is too busy for me, the salon will be bursting! We have the Film Festival, the music festivals, plus the Monaco Grand Prix. June would be better.’

‘Yes, of course. Well let me know when you can, before it gets too warm and before I move down. I have some leave to use up. We can take Thierry on some walks, get him used to some hiking, maybe even some camping,’ Sophie said excitedly.

‘Walking yes, camping no. Not until next year when he’s nearer four. I might as well enjoy a bit more luxury while I can. I’m sure he’ll love the camping though, like his mum and Aunty Sophie.’ Lizzie said recalling the vibration of excitement kids had at the campsite.

‘What child doesn’t like camping?’ Sophie said.

‘Well too much like hard work just now. I will book a hotel I know. You will love it, I know you will.’

‘Brilliant. I will be busy anyway handing over patients’ files and letting the apartment.’

‘Oh yes. I take it you’ve handed your notice in then?’

‘I finish officially in mid-July.’ Sophie stood up, beaming proudly.

‘Great. What about Guillaume?’

‘Well I haven’t officially served notice on him yet.’ She sat back down cradling her head. ‘I’m not looking forward to that.’

***

Thierry was cosily tucked up in bed when Lizzie arrived back at her Cannes apartment. She couldn’t resist spending a few hours with Sophie in Paris and, of course, doing a little shopping. Sophie managing a long lunch break. Thank God for Thierry’s nanny, or au pair really, Marie-Claire. She was such a gem and Lizzie counted herself lucky to have found her as she couldn’t have afforded to pay for full-time childcare. Not when she started out in Cannes. She entered Thierry’s room to watch her beautiful child lie sleeping so peacefully and so deliciously unaware of the previous few days’ events. She visualised her grandfather playing on the floor with her little boy just like he did with her. He would always get down to her level, physically and mentally. Although she was sure his agility would have waned. He just loved to have fun though, whether playing tea parties or being plastered in mother’s make-up, he didn’t complain.

He taught her lots too. He would read to her when she was small and, whilst her father was still working, he always made sure she understood her words and they would make a game of who would find a word in the dictionary first. His love of numbers was reflected in his fun ways to make her maths homework enjoyable too. He had a knack for explaining concepts. He always said if he hadn’t inherited the house and land and, like his father, gone into farming, he would have loved to have taught maths.

His other passion of course was animals. They would go together to check on the cows and sheep and if any of them showed any signs of ill health or disease, Thomas, the vet was called in, which was always an adventure - until Cider had to be put down of course; her lovely old golden retriever her grandfather had bought her when she was just two years old.

Her mother would always complain about the mess animals made and was dead against another dog. Not that she was ever there anyway to clear up the mess, preferring her job and social life. Thank God she had her grandfather. Lizzie’s eyes filled again as she thought about her grandfather and the memories and regrets that overflowed in her head.

It was a long time before Lizzie finally relaxed into a much-needed sleep and very early when she awoke. Thierry was jumping all over her. She gave him a big kiss and explained to him that she and Aunty Sophie would be taking him on a holiday in the mountains. She then drew her child into her arms, brushed his dark hair with her hands, then held him closer to her and gave him a huge hug.