The Vineyard

Chapter 8

On the journey to Bonnieux, Thierry was soon napping in his car seat in the back of the car whilst Sophie, as well as navigating, relayed to Lizzie her attraction to Cal’s friend, admitting she was endeared immediately to the gentle blush of Charles Pitt-Barker. Lizzie was amused because she had never, since knowing Sophie, seen her this animated about a man. Sophie told Lizzie that she’d lain awake all night thinking about him and how he was the typical public schoolboy she usually ran a mile from.

‘Oh Lizzie. What was it that made him so appealing? Was it his casual but quiet confidence do you think?’

‘You were only saying yesterday, you should keep things simple,’ Lizzie reminded her.

‘I was wasn’t I? Well, it wasn’t his yacht, nor was he sweeping me off his feet with sweet nothings or smart chat up lines. I liked his looks and maybe it was his disinterest that struck me?

Aware that she was wasting her breath, Lizzie stayed in the zone with her friend. ‘He didn’t make a play for you Sophie, maybe that’s what gives you a buzz; you like the chase? From what I could see, boy you were intent on getting on his radar.’

‘Oh dear, was it that obvious? Note to self – must be more cool.’ They both laughed.

As the car neared the descent from the hills, Sophie became increasingly distracted and as Lizzie turned the wheel on Sophie’s instruction, they came to a junction.

‘This is beautiful,’ Sophie said, admiring ancient buildings and narrow streets as they approached the village of Bonnieux. ‘It really is as pretty as the brochures.’

‘Yes, I thought you’d like it.’ Lizzie jiggled smugly in her seat. She swung the car into a narrow opening and into a shady spot in the car park. ‘Nous arrive.’

The hotel in Bonnieux was quite possibly where Thierry was conceived. It was one of those romantic hideaways you could never forget. A luxury room in an exquisite setting, overlooking the Provencal landscape. A haven to enjoy stunning sunsets as droplets of light danced and dowsed its guests in a light shower of seduction. When Lizzie stayed there with Anton she fell in love with – the hotel. It was an amazing place to savour a romantic ambience. Rather too romantic for a family holiday but she so wanted to relax and show its beauty to Sophie. They managed to check in early. Unpacking was simple as Lizzie had kept clothes to a minimum. She waited in anticipation as Sophie pulled back the heavy drapes to allow in more light. As she did so, she saw her gasp at the captivating vista.

‘Oh Lizzie, this is divine.’ The late morning sun shone blissfully over lavender fields to one side in the distance, with sweetening leaves on the vines down the other. ‘I can’t wait to explore the area.’

‘And I can’t wait to show it off.’ Lizzie tied her hair back and donned a light straw hat before gathering a bag and a hat for her little one. ‘Let’s go.’

For the first two days they took advantage of the early cooler hillside temperature and the freedom of just rambling along at a child’s pace through the vineyards, the hilly paths and the forest of cedars, taking it in turns to carry Thierry when his little legs tired. After lunch and his afternoon nap, they swam in the hotel pool and relaxed in the late sun.

Lizzie was just beginning to forget her troubles with Anton when, on their second evening as they were sitting on their sunbeds playing with Thierry, her mobile rang. Marie-Claire, Lizzie’s nanny, sounded harassed.

‘Lizzie, I should warn you. Anton is in hysterics. He rang the apartment to speak to you. I told him you and Thierry are on holiday but for some reason he thinks you have taken Thierry to England with the Englishman,’ she said. ‘I’ve done my best to reassure him you are in France and away just for a few days but he don’t believe me I know.’

Lizzie took a deep breath. ‘Calm down Marie-Claire. I will call him. I should have given him my mobile number.’

‘I don’t know why he say England?’

‘No, neither do I. Just take the telephone off the hook Marie-Claire. I will ring him ok?’

‘Yes, please ring him,’ said Marie-Claire, ‘he is a mad pig.’

Lizzie nodded to herself, her au-pair had summed him up quite quickly. ‘Oh, and Marie-Claire, did you tell him exactly where we are?’ she said quickly before she put the phone down.

‘No. I said you are in France on a vacation,’ she said.

‘Good. Ok. I’ll speak to him. Don’t worry.’

‘Lizzie. For goodness sake!’ Sophie cried. ‘What the hell is wrong with that man? It sounds like he is trying to control you again.’ Pointing to her arm she continued, ‘Look, I’ve gone all cold with goose bumps. Poor Marie-Claire!’

‘Who knows? I hope Marie-Claire is ok though. It’s all so urgent since he saw me that day with Cal.’

‘Cal does seem keen on you, Lizzie,’ Sophie teased. ‘Would you?’

‘No. No. No way,’ Lizzie frowned, looking sternly in to Sophie’s eyes, ‘I don’t believe you just asked me that. And anyway, I wouldn’t go there! He obviously likes a more mature woman.’

‘That was defensive,’ Sophie laughed. ‘There was quite a noticeable spark between you two the other night. Anyway, so what if you were with someone, anyone. It’s really none of Anton’s business, or mine, for that matter, who you date.’

‘Shall I continue?’

‘Sorry, carry on,’ said Sophie.

‘As for Anton, I think he’s just being his scheming self, unable to accept that he cannot control me.’

‘That sounds plausible.’

‘But, he’s also mentioned the Englishman again to Marie-Claire, which makes me think he’s more fixated on Cal rather than Thierry. I hadn’t heard from him for weeks before that.’ Lizzie filled Sophie in about her meeting with Anton at his hotel.

‘That’s so hilarious,’ Sophie roared. ‘He’s decided he wants to fulfil his role as a daddy and he thinks you’ll just drop everything and depend totally on him.’

‘So, he knows the score, there is no future for us, so, he’s being contrary. Wants me dancing to his tune I imagine.

Anyway, Dr Pitou, I’m rather shocked you saw anything other than Cal’s friend, erm, Charles?’

‘God, yes, he’s gorgeous. So unpretentious and rather endearingly shy.’ Sophie fluttered her eyes.

Thierry was now getting fidgety and increasingly aware he wasn’t the girls’ centre of attention.

‘Swimming pool Mummy?’

‘No it’s late darling. We will be going up to get showered for dinner soon.’

‘Swim,’ he repeated, then he moaned, rubbing his belly. Lizzie, glancing at her watch reached into his buggy.

‘A little early for dinner T but Mummy has your juice here,’ and she passed him his beaker of water with just enough orange juice to pacify a sweet taste. Thierry’s eyes lit up at the sight of his refreshment and his chubby little hand rose up to take the cup. ‘What do you say T?’ Lizzie prompted.

‘Thank you.’ He raised the beaker to his mouth.

Smiling tenderly down at her son she said proudly. ‘Good boy.’

Inside her head though, her thoughts were churning over. Was Sophie close to what was going on inside it? Would she want Cal if he wasn’t her mother’s lover? Sophie had struck a nerve and it was a question she couldn’t answer. It seemed he wasn’t one to trust though. She could swear he was flirting the other night.

Placing her son in his shaded pushchair with his drink, Lizzie returned her attention to Thierry and his father and the immediate situation. The thought of phoning Anton and answering his pathetic childish questions was unbearable. Frowning, she turned to Sophie.

‘I really don’t want Anton to know my whereabouts Sophie. I really couldn’t cope with him right now.’

Sophie lay back sinking into her bed closing heavy eyes and mellowing in the soothing warmth of the afternoon. ‘Quelle surprise! Why tell him. It has nothing to do with him anyway what you do. If he is beating himself up so much that you’re in England then text him and tell him to ring your phone. The ring tone would be different if he was ringing England.’

‘Genius Sophie,’ stated Lizzie ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’

‘Because you are too pre-occupied with him finding you and giving you unwarranted grief and goodness knows what. That’s why,’ relayed Sophie, her eyelids still hiding her eyes. ‘If he really insists on knowing where you are, tell him the Alps. That’ll keep him busy for a while trying to find you.’

Lizzie burst into laughter imagining Anton’s fierce face with his dilemma. The graceful undulating green hills of the Luberon were much softer than the massive majestic mountains of the Alps – but it would not altogether be a lie. ‘What would I do without you Soph? You minx,’ she giggled. ‘It could take him a while to figure that one out.’

‘I would never underestimate that man Lizzie. I can just imagine Anton embracing the mission. Designer clad, trekking the peaks and meadows of the Alps in search of his son only to stumble instead on herds of grazing cows draped with those huge deafening bells jangling incessantly. Their so not ‘Armani Pour Homme’ dung clinging to his soft Italian leather mules. A hilarious vision!

Lizzie spewed a large snigger. ‘Although,’ Lizzie added after some thought, ‘why don’t I call him from the hotel phone in the foyer. The public one I mean, I don’t want him ringing me back on my mobile. In fact, the last thing I want him to have is my mobile number.’

The cooling sun sent them all into a relaxing slumber.

***

The evening was warm and balmy and after a refreshing shower, the trio enjoyed their meal on the hotel terrace, relaxing and savouring the spectacular view of the hazy pink hills. Lizzie, tense, couldn’t help but keep looking over her shoulder. She was becoming more and more on edge for some reason. Strangely, she felt that Anton was going to jump out behind her at any minute, which promptly reminded her.

‘Sugar! I forgot to call Anton. I will do it now.’ As she turned, her heart thumped so loud she swore the entire population of Bonnieux could hear it. Cal was being seated at a table inside the restaurant.

Chapter 9

The following morning Lizzie was up early after a night tossing around with just a morsel of sleep. All night she couldn’t get him out of her head and tormented herself with whether he actually saw her the previous evening.

Thierry was stirring and she saw that his sheet had slipped off. As she tiptoed round the bed to cover him again, she was suddenly startled by Sophie’s phone starting to ring.

Sophie grabbed her phone and pushing her hair from her face, she pressed the phone and glanced at the time. ‘Christophe? It’s seven o’clock in the morning and I’m on holiday.’ Sophie groaned listening to her caller. ‘I’m back the weekend. Why?’ At the next pause, Sophie’s jumped up in disbelief. ‘What do you mean they’ve…how, why? I sent you a copy.’ Sophie paced up and down, her head wrapped in one hand, the phone in the other. ‘Well, yes I have got a copy but it’s at home. It will be on my laptop.’ Sophie took a deep breath and scrunched her face in disgust. ‘I haven’t a choice have I? I’ll sort out a flight. I’ll ring you once I’ve got a flight.’

Lizzie couldn’t help but show her disappointment, but stroked a now wide-awake Thierry, his face grinning at Sophie. Unable to resist his charm Sophie greeted Thierry.

‘Hello, how is my favourite boy?’

‘Go phwim Aunty Sopie?’ he pleaded, holding up his arms and pulling at her heart.

‘I’m so sorry darling, Aunty Sophie has to go back to Paris. Lizzie, I can’t apologise enough. It seems they need a report urgently, well today actually. God knows where in cyberspace it is but Christophe says he didn’t get it so I’ll need to get back to my apartment. I’ve got them on my…’

‘Sophie, it’s fine, I completely understand. I’m just sorry you have to go.’ Lizzie was genuinely sad but tried to remain positive for all their sakes. She got Thierry dressed whilst Sophie telephoned the airline. ‘I’ll take you to the airport.’ Lizzie added.

‘Absolutely not my friend.’ Sophie’s hand rose in authority as she spoke in French to the airline and grabbed her small bag to pack. ‘You two are on holiday. I’ll ring the desk for a cab.’

‘It won’t take...’

‘No, I mean it. You have a walk planned. Thierry’s favourite.’

‘I’ll ring the desk whilst you pack then.’

‘That would be good, thanks,’ Sophie said, finishing her call to the airline. ‘Excellent, flight at twelve thirty back to Paris.’

Lizzie organised the taxi and then turned to her son. ‘Thierry can take Mummy for a walk today. Would you like that Thierry? Then afterwards we’ll have a swim.’

‘Will you try ringing Anton again?’ Sophie asked.

‘No, my message said I’m just in Provence for a few days, it didn’t need to specify where but, he’ll hopefully stop calling the apartment for a few days. Marie-Claire would have called if there was a problem, but I’ll give her a quick call now just to make sure she’s ok.’

After waving Sophie off from the front of the hotel Lizzie and Thierry headed to the restaurant for breakfast. With doors drawn back, the rising sun scattered its light delicately among the guests occupying the terrace tables, with the hills loitering deliciously in the distance. Such a shame Lizzie thought as she imagined her poor Sophie winding back down the hills to catch her plane. They stepped out to the terrace and Lizzie sat Thierry securely in a chair.

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