The Vineyard

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 (#ulink_46ba3eb7-ac4a-5d91-9a7d-b85fe0fb0fb3)

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.