Biarritz Passion: A French Summer Novel (4 page)

BOOK: Biarritz Passion: A French Summer Novel
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And here wa
s Caroline, driving to her good safe job in a drab suburban town 30 minutes from London . She’d been there for eight years, the work jaw-droppingly repetitive, her colleagues dull, to put it kindly. But none of that had mattered after she met Liam.

Spotting the red brick office building ahead she switched on her indicator. She parked the Mini,
turned off the wipers and sat for a moment. The rain blurred the windscreen, beat down on the metal roof.

Have a good wallow, she told herself. Self-pity is such an enriching sentiment. What was it Margaret used to say? ‘The best way to cheer yourself up is to try to cheer someone else up.’ That was probably a quote from somebody or other. Caroline picked up the postcard again. She wondered to what extent the change in her feelings towards Annabel had been entangled with the change in her feelings towards Liam.

When Caroline met Liam, Annabel had been seventeen. She’d been in her final year at school, troublesome, rebellious, always complaining. As soon as the two of them met, it had been a case of instant, mutual dislike. Liam didn’t see why Caroline had to lavish so much attention on her kid sister while Annabel resented the feeling she’d been pushed into second place. Caroline had worked hard to ease the tensions between the two of them, and, gradually, much to her relief, things had started to work out. Liam had helped Annabel with her coursework. He’d put new stuff on her computer. He even gave her driving lessons in his Audi, just around the grounds of Willowdale, but Annabel had been thrilled. Caroline had prayed for things to continue. Maybe what Annabel had really missed had been a male influence in her life, she thought, watching them together. Liam had even begun to suggest Annabel should go along with them when they went out. It had seemed fun to take little sister to the theatre or to a concert, to watch her eyes widen, her lips part in a smile of pure pleasure. She’d been over the moon when he managed to get tickets for a Robbie Williams concert, telling Liam he was ‘so cool!’ Liam was flattered by her growing admiration. He liked taking the two of them out, Annabel with her long blond hair and her blue eyes on one side, and Caroline, ‘my Spanish beauty’, on the other.

It had got to the point where Caroline and Liam hardly ever went anywhere on their own, a development which had begun to make Caroline uncomfortable for reasons she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Then he’d started buying presents for Annabel, small things at first, a scarf, a new CD. Later, on a couple of occasions, pieces of jewellery. Caroline had protested, saying they were too expensive, that he was spoiling her.

‘Spoiling her? Me! You can talk,’ he replied, laughing it off. ‘Anyway, she’s my second-best girl, aren’t you Nanabel?’

Nanabel. Caroline remembered his pet name for her sister, how she’d giggled whenever he called her ‘his Nanabel.’ And how Caroline herself had watched her sister, first a coltish teenager,
later a sexy young woman, climb onto his knees and twine her arms around his neck. Just the same as she did now, with Julian.

She pushed open the car door and got out, glancing up at the unattractive facade of her workplace, the neon-lit windows shining through the rain. Annabel was no longer her adored little sister, eternally forgiven. The scales had dropped from Caroline’s eyes. But she also knew that she was still bound to Annabel by the strongest of ties, that she would drop everything and rush to protect her if she was ever hurt or in danger.

Sisters. It was complicated.

 

 

CHAPTER THREE
. WEDNESDAY 26 MAY

 

As Caroline got into the lift her mind was on changes. A new job. A new town. A new flat. It was time, she thought. Time to shake off those blues, make some decisions, take back control. The advantages of working close to London were beginning to lose out to the disadvantages. She would be thirty this year, she wasn’t yet caught in the age trap, she could put her flat on the market or maybe even rent it for a while, time enough for her to find a new place, a new look. Goodbye Laura Ashley, hello
feng shui
and single stems of almond blossom in gray vases. She could even try to join Jill up in Edinburgh. She was picturing geometric white sofas and bleached wooden floors when the lift stopped.

She stepped out and instantly went flying sideways, banging her shoulder against the wall.

‘Oh excuse me Caroline, I didn’t see you coming!’

The girl who had nearly knocked her off feet was scrabbling around on the floor trying to pick up Caroline’s handbag and its scattered contents. Caroline, breathless, looked down at her. She was wearing
extremely low-slung trousers and a much too short T-shirt. In the gap between the two was something that looked like a giant Mozzarella sliced through by red string.


Sheryl,’
she said, tearing her gaze away from the be-thonged buttocks of her most junior team member. ‘Sheryl. Please. Get up. Do you really have to come charging round corners at fifty miles an hour? I’ve told you before, slow down. What if I’d been carrying a hot coffee?’

The girl’s eyes blinked up at her, huge and myopic behind smudged John Lennon glasses. Her skin was
bottle-tan orange, and her red hair, Caroline couldn’t help noticing, bore a disturbing resemblance to the colour of her thong.

‘Well it’s just that I was a bit late, so I was sort of hurrying.’

‘I think I got that Sheryl. You know, you could try setting your alarm clock a bit earlier. Or not staying up so late. Or just watching where you’re going. Or—oh never mind.’

She took the bag the girl was holding and proceeded to the office with as much dignity as she could muster.

‘Morning everyone,’ she said taking off her coat.

Desultory murmurs and a grunt came back.
No-one deigned to look up. What if I broke into song, she thought. Belted out ‘I Will Survive’, shimmied like Shakira. Would anyone notice?

She
pushed open the door into the glass cubicle that was her office. Flinging her coat over a chair she started flipping through the mail that Jen had left on her desk.

‘There’s a letter from Sidney and Watson’s about that client of theirs. You
know, the one we were talking about last week. They don’t sound very happy.’

Jen
conveyed the information in a nervous voice, ending in a little cough.

‘Again? Try to get them on the phone would you, Jen? See if you can find out what’s going on exactly?’

Jen
gave a little gasp and looked ready to faint.

‘You mean talk to Mr Watson? Oh no Caroline I really don’t think I could. He’s always in a bad mood. You’re the only one who can handle him, really Caroline, it needs somebody really diplomatic. Like you.’

Maybe she should apply for a job as Secretary General of the UN? Muttering to herself she tossed the letter on one side and switched on her computer, watching the familiar icons fill the screen. Despite staying until after seven the previous night there were eighteen new messages waiting for her, most of them with little red flags by the side.

She spent the next hour and a half sorting through the most urgent problems. At half past ten she pushed back her chair, deciding a coffee was in order. The machine was on a table in the corner of the general office where her three staff members worked. Unconsciously she massaged her temples as she waited for the water to pass through the filter.

‘Headache?’ Jen was trying to make amends for earlier. ‘I’m always getting them when it rains. I’ve got some Nurofen in my drawer if you want.’

‘No it’s OK, it just feels a bit fuggy in here. But thanks anyway.’

Caroline forced a smile. Jen wasn’t bad, she was just, what was the CV term? ‘Lacking in initiative.’ She would perform routine tasks like a hamster on a wheel, it was the thought of actually being responsible for something which threw her into a panic. When Caroline had been ill for a couple of days in January, Jen had immediately declared herself ill as well, leaving the office to George and Sheryl. And that had been a roaring success, hadn’t it?

‘I’ll open a window!’

As if sensing her thoughts, Sheryl sprang from her seat and raced across the room.

‘Just an inch!’

Caroline’s voice was sharp. She looked over at George apprehensively. The eldest member of the team was hunched like a chicken ruffling his feathers against the cold. He sat with his head down, laboriously entering figures into an Excel table on his computer screen. Sheryl tugged at the window with a look of triumph but George didn’t raise his head.

Caroline’s phone rang. She went back inside her cubicle, leaving the door open, her mind on the permanent feud between
Sheryl and George. The two of them had clashed from the moment Sheryl had joined the team eight months ago. She would have to do something about it. Team building, not one of her strong points. Maybe she should invite them all for a drink one day after work? Hand out T-shirts? Sheryl the Thong, Jen the Hamster and George the Chicken. Oh my goodness she was grumpy this morning.

She picked up the phone.

‘Caroline MacDonald.’

‘Caro darling!’

She had been expecting a client or a colleague. With a start of surprise she recognised her sister’s voice.

‘Annabel? What’s wrong?’

The words sprang to her lips automatically. There was a fairly reliable short list of reasons why her sister phoned, all of them to do with emergencies.

‘I’m absolutely fine darling! Fine! Did you get my postcard?’

‘Just this morning. Sounds like you had a great time.’

‘It was wonderful! I’ll tell you all about it this weekend. Listen, I know you’re at work, but som
ething rather urgent’s come up…’

‘Urgent?’

Annabel cut in immediately with a little laugh.


Don’t start getting all neurotic. Nothing to do with Aunt Maggie. No, it’s, well, it’s something a bit unexpected really…’

Sh
e hesitated, then said brightly ‘It’s about this summer actually. July. Do you have any plans?’

Caroline was momentarily at a loss for words. Various scenarios ran through her head. Caroline the Kitten-Sitter while her sister was on holiday. Caroline the Foreman, chivvying the workmen who were renovating Annabel’s flat. Or The Tourist Guide. Her sister had a way of inviting people to come and stay, people she met on a cruise, at a wedding in
Miami. She was invariably astonished when they turned up on her doorstep with a pile of luggage and said ‘Hi there! We’ve just arrived in London, is the guest room ready?’

‘This summer? What do you mean? What sort of plans?’

‘Holiday plans, silly. You’ve got three weeks off, I remember you saying.’ Annabel sounded impatient. ‘Have you got anything fixed up yet?’

‘Well, I haven’t really made up my mind, there are various possibilities, it’s a bit early, I was thinking about...

Caroline’s voice trailed off. Damn. She was never fast enough to come up with anything that would fool her sharp young sister.

‘Early? Caro it’s the end of May! Hello! Anyway, you don’t have anything definite organised. That’s marvellous because I have the most brilliant suggestion—you are coming to France with us!’

The expression ‘knocked me down with a feather’ sprang into Caroline’s mind.
Going to France? With Annabel and Julian?

Her sister was rattling on.

‘—this super villa, you should see the photos, it’s on top of a hill, sea-views, it’s got a fabulous pool—’

Caroline interrupted her sister’s flow of words.

‘You’re going to a villa? You and Julian? And you want me to come?’

It couldn’t be the money, Julian was rolling in it.

‘Not just us two darling, don’t be silly, there’s a whole bunch of us going, the villa belongs to their family actually, sort of a summer residence, they’re awfully rich. You might have heard Julian mention one of them, Edward, his friend, Edward Rayburn.’

‘Rayburn,
I don’t know, maybe...’

Caroline spoke slowly, playing for time. What on earth was going on? The two sisters hadn’t been on holiday together since Annabel was fifteen. Caroline’s suspicions were on high alert. She decided the best tactic was to stall.

‘Um, look Annabel, sorry, I’m afraid I’ve got to go, we’re really busy here. Why don’t we talk about it this weekend at Willowdale? I’m not sure it will fit in with my plans, I was thinking of going to see Jill in Edinburgh, and well, it is a bit out of the blue isn’t it?’

‘Dear, dear, lovely sister,’ Annabel’s voice was wheedling. ‘You can go and see Jill any time, there are trains to Edinburgh every hour! And it’s only for two weeks, so you could alway
s have a week with Jill as well. Just imagine, two weeks in a posh villa in France! For free! You’d love it. Please say yes. Edward simply has to know today, he’ll ask someone else if you can’t come, and that would be an awful shame. You’d be missing out on the most marvellous opportunity.’

There was definitely something fishy going on, something Annabel wasn’t telling her.
An electronic voice in Caroline’s head was repeating ‘Hidden catch! Hidden catch!’ She took a deep breath and spoke firmly.

‘Annabel,
sorry, I really must go. I can’t simply make such a big decision on the spur of the moment, you should know that. You can’t ring up out of the blue and expect me—look, I don’t even know where this villa is and who’s going apart from you and Julian, and this Edward whatever his name is. We can talk in more detail this weekend. I’m really going to have to ring off now.’

‘This weekend will be too late!’

The wheedling tone had gone. Caroline heard a hard edge in her sister’s voice.

‘I’ve just told you
, Julian has to let Edward know today!’

‘And I’ve just told you
I can’t make a decision like this on the spur of the moment!’ Caroline’s reply was equally edgy.

There was an ominous silence from the other end of the line.

‘In that case I shall simply have to tell him no.’

Caroline sighed.

‘If that’s the only alternative, yes, I’m afraid you will. You said he was thinking about somebody else, anyway, so what’s the problem?’


Right. I’ll tell him my sister doesn’t give a toss about his generous offer. I’ll tell him you’re off to see a friend who you could visit any old time. Too bad.’ There was a pause. ‘Well, we won’t be seeing you before we leave, so do enjoy your little holiday with Jill.’

Caroline blinked.

‘What do you mean you won’t be seeing me? I thought you said this thing in France was for July?’


So?’

Annabel’s voice
was flat.

‘But it’s the end of May! We’re seeing each other this weekend.’

A pause.

‘I doubt it.’

Caroline felt a cold shock run through her.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Julian’s pretty busy this weekend. I doubt if we’ll be able to get down to Willowdale after all.’

‘Annabel!’

Caroline looked round hastily. Her three staff had all stopped work and were listening with interest. She glared at them, and reached out a foot to push the door closed.

‘You can’t possibly call off this weekend! It’s Margaret’s birthday. Her 80
th
! Everything’s planned, you know it is. She’d be absolutely devastated!’

‘You’ll be there. You’re the one she really cares about.’

Caroline gasped.

‘I’ll ring and explain. She’s always telling me how busy my fiancé is, how a leader has to set an example to his troops and hold the fort and toe the line.’

Caroline didn’t miss the contempt in her sister’s tone. She knew Annabel was someone who held a grudge. She drew a deep, murderous breath.

‘You are being absolutely selfish and manipulative. Even if Julian’s busy
, which I very much doubt by the way, there’s nothing to prevent you coming down on your own. I’ll even come and pick you up.’

‘Selfish? I’m not the only one, am I? I ask you
a favour—hang on one minute, did I say a favour? I offer you a golden opportunity more like, the opportunity to spend two fabulous weeks in a luxury villa, rent-free, and all you can say is—’ Annabel mimicked a whiny voice ‘I might want to go to Edinburgh.’

Caroline gripped the receiver
, her sister’s sarcastic tones ringing in her ears.

For a moment she couldn’t speak. Her head was pounding as she tried to keep her temper under control
. She couldn’t have a row with her sister in front of her staff. Annabel had manoeuvred her into a corner. Phoning her at work, using Margaret as a bargaining chip. It was as simple as that. And as shameful. She said with forced calmness:

BOOK: Biarritz Passion: A French Summer Novel
5.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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