Hot Basque: A French Summer Novel 2 (8 page)

The storm was violent, but short-lived. When they finally emerged from beneath the branches, bedraggled and dripping, Caroline pointed.

‘Look!’

A rainbow arched over Willowdale like an illustration from the last page in a fairy story.

‘Thank you Federal Express!’

Edward grinned and tipped an imaginary hat.

Birdie was standing on the terrace, clutching a multicoloured golfing umbrella and peering anxiously across the lawn.

‘Oh my goodness just look at the pair of you! As soon as I heard the storm I said to Margaret I bet they went out without an umbrella. You’re absolutely soaked! Quick quick, come in front of the fire, I’ll get some towels.’

‘No, Birdie, wait!’

Something in Caroline’s voice halted Birdie’s rush indoors.

Caroline took her by the hand.

‘Come with us, just a second. Then we’ll go and stand under a hot shower.’

A strange look appeared on Birdie’s lined face. She put her hand to her heart with a little gasp and allowed herself to be drawn inside to the sitting room, where Margaret was poking at the logs in the fireplace muttering imprecations at the wind which was sending gusts down the chimney and causing the logs to sputter.

She looked round as they came into the room, her expression changing from shock at the sight of them dripping puddles on the carpet, then to hope as she saw their faces.

‘Oh!’ she dropped the poker, clutched the mantelpiece.

Caroline rushed over and gave her a hug, then rushed back to Birdie.

Without a word she held out her left hand.

‘Oh! Oh! My dears!’ Margaret’s voice trembled, her eyes misted over.

She turned to Birdie, who was sobbing as though her heart was broken.

‘Birdie!’

Her friend paused in mid-sob.

‘Your assistance is needed. Pull yourself together. Towels. Four glasses. The Macallan,. Snap to it, Bird. Remember Dunkirk. These two look as though they took part in the rescue. Come over here, by the fire both of you. Caroline, you’ve soaked my nice cream dress. Now, chin chin, straight down the hatch. Ah!’ She smacked her lips and looked at her empty glass. ‘Best remedy in the world against a cold. Most heartfelt congratulations. My dears, are you alright?’

Caroline and Edward, coughing as the 45° proof spirit hit the back of their throats, nodded wordlessly.

‘That’s a relief. You’ll have to get used to the family drink now Edward.’

She put her head on one side, sizing him up. ‘Have you ever thought of getting married in a kilt? I know you’ve got the legs.’

Edward, coughing and weeping, could only shake his head.

***

It was an hour later that the four of them set off for The Limes. In the end Margaret and Birdie decided they would simply have to go as well, they wanted to see the look on the Rayburns’ faces.

‘Though between you, us and the gatepost, the four of us have indulged in a little bit of speculation,’ said Margaret as Edward drove them the half mile to his parents’ house.

‘But then we were wondering whether you might turn out to be one of those modern couples, who decide they’re going to stay single. Maybe even live in separate houses,’ said Birdie.

Edward laughed.

‘Who’d do my washing Birdie? Anyway I’m counting on her salary when she gets her lucrative new job. Thought I’d trade in the Renault for a Porsche.’

‘That’ll be the day,’ said Caroline.

Edward, in spite of his love of extreme sports and his luxurious tastes was curiously uninterested in cars, so long as they were safe, comfortable and didn’t break down. A nice change, thought Caroline, after Liam with his Audi and Julian with his BMW and the majority of their friends who could spend hours discussing the latest twin turbo something or other with champagne injection and home cinema in the backseat. She rather enjoyed that about Edward, though she knew she’d only have to glance at an ad for a Mercedes or a Lexus and he’d buy it for her in the blink of an eye.

There was another car in the drive as they drew up in front of The Limes.

‘Oh God, that’s not the vicar by any chance is it?’ said Edward adding ‘oops, sorry’ as he spotted the expressions of the two ladies in the back seat.

But it was not the vicar. Another surprise awaited as they walked into the hall of The Limes.

‘Antony!’

Edward gave a roar, bounded forward and proceeded to pummel the newcomer to death.

Antony Rayburn, the younger brother, was to all intents and purposes in Brazil, ostensibly taking a year out after his studies in order to build up his photography portfolio but, the family suspected, spending most of the time in the arms of a sultry Latin lady he had met the previous year at a graduation party. Like Caroline and Annabel, there was quite an age gap between the two siblings, more than ten years in their case.

Julie had confided to Caroline that Antony had been ‘
un petit accident d’amour’
.

‘I had two miscarriages, my dear. No, it’s alright, these things happen. So finally Adam and I decided to stop at one. Edward was an adorable child, we had a wonderful life, we were living in London at the time, there was such a mad social whirl. So we say to ourselves ‘OK, be happy with what we’ve got.’ And then it was my thirty-fifth birthday and Adam took me to Venice. Have you ever been to Venice? No? Ah.’

She had thrown a mischievous look at Caroline.

‘I shall give Edward strict instructions he is to take you there, when your exams will be finished. Venice is a very romantic place. It was like a second honeymoon. We left Edward at the villa with his cousins, having a wonderful time, and off we go. And we had a wonderful time too, in spite of the fact that we didn’t manage to get out of our hotel room until after lunch every day!’

Her grin had been so infectious that Caroline was again struck by her resemblance to Claudie, not just in physical terms. Aunt and niece obviously shared the same appetite for life and the same lack of inhibitions talking about matters of the heart.

And now here he was, the ‘little accident of love’, Antony Rayburn. Not quite as tall and broad as his brother, more like Jean-Paul, his cousin. But, thought Caroline, as he disentangled himself from Edward and came towards her, every bit as handsome.
Oh lalalala
as Claudie would say. Perhaps if things didn’t work out between Jill and Antoine…stop, she told herself, he’s far too young. Although…

The introductions were made, and everyone was ushered into the sitting room.

Obviously the occasion had called for more champagne, there was a bottle chilling in an ice-bucket, glasses set out.

‘Now Antony, tell our guests all about your adventures in Brazil.’

Caroline, meeting Edward’s eye, gave a little shake of the head. She didn’t want them to steal Antony’s thunder by announcing their engagement. They could wait. He nodded his agreement. Surreptitiously she began to slip off her ring. But unfortunately Adam chose that moment to offer her a glass and, in her fumbling, the ring dropped to the floor. It did a jaunty little bounce on the shining parquet, rolled a few inches and then with a final clattering spin came to rest in front of Julie’s elegant feet in their elegant French shoes.

There was a silence. Everyone stared at the ring. Caroline, lifting her head to cast a panic-stricken look at Edward, realised that they were all poised in mid-movement, like a frozen tableau.

She felt a little lurch in her stomach, a giggle burst from her lips, and both she and Edward collapsed into uncontrollable laughter. The tableau unfroze and everyone exclaimed at once.

It was much, much later, as they were finally getting ready to go back to Willowdale, that Julie drew Caroline on one side.

‘Wait here one moment,
chérie
.’

She disappeared up the stairs.

‘That was a truly marvellous evening and a truly marvellous day,’ Margaret was saying as she clasped Adam’s hand.

‘You’ve taken the words from my mouth, Margaret. I don’t think any of us is going to forget it in a hurry. A birthday, an engagement, and the prodigal’s return.’

‘It’s so nice to see you back, Antony dear,’ said Birdie. ‘You were always so kind to us two old biddies, popping over when we had that problem with the boiler, and then clearing the drive when we had all that snow. I’m so delighted you’re back. I don’t know how we’ve survived without you. Oh!’ She put a guilty hand to her mouth. ‘Of course I don’t mean we’re glad to see you back just so that you can mend the boiler, that’s not at all–oh dear Margaret, I suddenly feel quite tipsy.’

‘Come along Birdie, allow me the honour of helping you to the car.’

Antony took hold of Birdie’s arm.

‘Don’t open it until you get back to Willowdale. Promise.’

Caroline turned. Julie was holding a small package. She pressed it into Caroline’s hand, kissed her.

‘We are so thrilled to have you as part of the family. It will be heaven when we can all get together in August, Gerard, Anouk, the children, us, the whole family. With its newest member. I’m so excited I feel like...’ she gave a little skip, then looked at Caroline mischievously.

‘What do you think Adam would do if I grabbed him and take him into a waltz right here in the hall?’

Caroline hugged her.

‘I think he’d waltz you right back. Wait until we’ve gone, then have a ball!’

It was only when they were finally alone in their bedroom at Willowdale that Caroline showed Edward the package.

‘What is it, do you know?’

‘No idea. Why don’t you open it?’

Caroline untied the pale yellow ribbon, unfolded the tissue paper. Another box. She looked at Edward.

‘Go on.’

He was as intrigued as she was.

She opened the lid.

‘Ohhh...’

The earrings were old, delicate, tear-shaped pendants. Tiny seed pearls edged each pendant, throwing into relief the glowing jewels in the middle. Sapphires, blue as the sea below the Villa Julia, as blue as her beloved’s eyes, blue as her ring.

Julie had enclosed a note.

‘These belonged to
Grand Grand’Mère Julia
. They were a wedding gift from her husband, Raoul. Now dear Caroline they are yours with all our heartfelt wishes for the same happiness in your marriage that Julia and Raoul had in theirs.’

‘Whew! Verdict?’

Geraldine‘s face was bright pink, her eyes a similar shade, blinking rapidly behind her spectacles.

They were standing outside the exam room, half-dazed. Candidates spilled out into the hall, some talking animatedly, hands waving manically, others moving zombie-like towards the lifts, clutching their briefcases to their chest, eyes straight ahead.

Caroline drew in a deep breath.

‘Verdict. Don’t know. Still in the zone. What about you? What about a drink?’

‘Oh yes. Yes yes yes.’

The two women made their way to the ground floor, walked out of the university campus and headed for their favourite pub.

They’d spent many an evening in that pub, scratching their heads over lecture notes, fortifying themselves with G and Ts. Geraldine was the only other ‘mature’ candidate on the TEFL course. A jolly, extrovert primary school teacher, she’d been looking for a way to take off overseas, preferably the Far East. She and Caroline had quickly bonded, pooling their efforts, sharing resources, shooting off midnight e mails to each other.

Sometimes they both felt as though it was beyond them, all the difficult theory, the different aspects.

‘How hard can it be to learn to teach your own language?’ Caroline had moaned more than once.

It was usually Geraldine who rallied.

‘We may not be as young as the others, but we’ve had more experience of life. We’re smarter, craftier. Know a few wily dodges that the innocent babes haven’t discovered yet. We’re the rats, they’re the lambs.’

‘That’s a nice image. I never fancied myself as a rat before. You know the thing that really gets me, one moment I’ll be reading away, concentrating like mad, and suddenly Eureka! All becomes blindingly clear! A discrete combinatorial system! Of course! It all makes sense! Then I wake up the next morning and everything’s gone, vanished in a puff of smoke. I’ve no idea what any of it means. It’s like being Alice in Wonderland.’

Geraldine’s solution was usually to nod in sympathy and order more drinks.

They had struggled on, supporting, encouraging, brainstorming. And now it was over. No more reading, no more revising, no more practice essays. They were officially ‘on holiday’.

They took their drinks outside to a table on the pavement. Geraldine, who had started smoking again round about the second month of the course, lit up a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and raised her glass.

‘Cheers Caro! To the rats! To the end of it all! Success and glory and lots of sexy Thai men with caramel skins and an intimate knowledge of the Kama Sutra. The majority are Buddhists you know,’ she added, in answer to Caroline’s dubious look.

They clinked glasses.

Caroline took a long swallow of her G and T, looked over at her friend.

‘I can’t believe it, can you? No more lectures. No more swotting.’

‘I know.’ Geraldine’s face was a picture of elation and disbelief. ‘We’ve done it, MacDonald. Completed the course, given blood in the exam room. Wheeee!’

They both burst out laughing.

It was a beautiful evening. The streets were crowded, people getting off work early to enjoy the sunshine, cafe terraces filling up.

‘What are we going to do with ourselves? We’ll probably get withdrawal symptoms. All that free time, no more learned tomes to plough through, no more linguistic trees to draw, no more classes with The Bum, alas alack, and woe.’

That set them both off again. Brendan Getty
,
their linguistics teacher, was a laid-back lecturer with a biker look, black leather jacket and very tight jeans. The first time he turned his back on the class to write on the whiteboard, the women students had given a collective sigh. He had, as Geraldine said, ‘a bum in a million.’

‘So, which questions did you choose?’

Caroline pulled a sheaf of papers out of her bag, consulted her notes.

‘Oh yeah, I picked that one as well. What do you think they meant by...’

After a twenty minute post mortem they agreed they might just be in with a chance. Either that or they’d both failed. Caroline put her notes away and the conversation turned to other more interesting topics.

Geraldine already had a post lined up in Pattaya and would be leaving in a week’s time. Depending on her results, she’d get promotion and a rise.

‘But honestly Caro at this point I couldn’t give a damn. I just want to get out there, see the sights, drink in the atmosphere. A week from now, it’s mind-blowing. I have millions of things still to do. And at last I’ll start earning a bit of dosh.’

Caroline nodded, feeling guilty.

Geraldine had had to make a real sacrifice to do the course, using all her savings for the year off work, getting by with bits and pieces of tutoring in the evenings and at weekends. Caroline, on the other hand, had her savings, plus backup from Edward, which she was loath to use. Still it was nice to know she had a safety net.

‘Let me see that ring again,’ said Geraldine, grabbing Caroline’s hand. ‘Oh, what a beauty. I only wish I could have met him. You will come out and see me, both of you?’

Caroline laughed.

‘Maybe a Thai honeymoon, you never know.’

‘Perfect! I’ll get the palace ready. The King and I. Have you set a date yet?’

Caroline shook her head.

‘We scarcely had a minute alone last weekend. And since then I’ve been like a bear with a sore head, screaming at him each time he phoned, poor love, telling him he was interrupting my revision and I was going to fail all because of him. He offered to drop everything and come over and I swore at him.’

‘Swore swore? Oooh. That’s not like you. So what’s the schedule now?’

‘First, a meeting with the letting agent. Tomorrow in fact.’

‘How do you feel about that? Don’t–’

Geraldine was interrupted by the opening bars of ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ coming from her bag. She fished for her phone, looked at the screen. ‘Sorry, mind if I take this?’

‘Go right ahead.’

Yes, tomorrow Caroline was signing the rental agreement and soon would be saying goodbye to her home in the large Victorian house where she had lived for the last eight
years. Then off to start a new life and a new career. She’d had two job offers, both conditional on getting the diploma. That meant if she failed...she pushed the thought to the back of her mind. Cross that bridge, she told herself. One of the schools was within walking distance of Edward’s flat. The other, more prestigious, was on the outskirts of Toulouse, and would mean a commute. For the moment she was still hesitating. Edward, though he was trying his best not to influence her, was in favour of the school closer to home.

She still hadn’t made up her mind. All her focus this last month had been on the exams. At least now she’d have time to weigh the pros and cons. And to relax. No more reading, no more notes, no more essays. Just a long, leisurely break at the Villa Julia.

Biarritz in June. She felt a rush of excitement. Edward had told her it was a lovely time of the year to visit, the trees in their new green, the oleanders in full flower, the birds swooping about the garden, everything coming into life. It would be too cold to swim in the sea, but that didn’t bother her, she’d scarcely set foot in the ocean last summer even in the scorching heat of July. Much too terrified. The pool would be fine. It was heated, and if the weather was good, it would be warm enough for Caroline and Jill to lie back on the comfortable sun-loungers, work on their tans.

In any case, Edward would be off doing his surfing, he’d already been on the phone to Dominique and Antoine, arranging to meet, giving out invitations to come and eat at the villa, to meet Caroline’s friend, Jill, no not another English rose, this one was a fiery Irish redhead with a black belt in karate.

‘She doesn’t have a black belt in karate! And she was born in Liverpool!’

‘Well, she’s a redhead.’

Edward had been a sweetie. After hitting the ‘send’ button that afternoon back in March when she’d first had her brainwave about setting up Jill with Antoine, Caroline suddenly realised she’d invited a friend to stay at Edward’s family’s house without even checking it out first. As soon as the mail was off, she’d started to bite her nails.

But Edward had just thrown out his arms, said ‘Great! I love Jill.’ And that was that. That was Edward. Easy going, the more the merrier, the perfect host.

For the thousandth time Caroline thanked her lucky stars.

Of course, The Man wasn’t perfect. His voice, for a start. How could someone who spoke in such a beautifully modulated, sexy baritone have a singing voice from hell? His morning arias in the shower were torture. His magnificent lungs, developed by years of rowing, turned the sweetest melody into the soundtrack for a horror film, bringing tears to Caroline’s eyes and making every glass in the kitchen tremble.

Plus he was a workaholic. He just loved his job, there were times she scarcely saw him for days on end. That would put some women off, but Caroline didn’t mind, she liked being on her own, had always been able to entertain herself. And it made their times together more special. The minute she sensed that things were easing off at work she would segue into seduction mode and lay gleeful, devious plans. The cookery books would be taken out, champagne put to chill. Scented candles and flowers bloomed on surfaces. Sometimes she’d pop out and treat herself to a new top. Or a new pair of shoes. Of course she was a shoe fetishist, she was a woman wasn’t she? And those shoe shops in
la ville rose,
they’d tempt a saint.

She’d also developed another passion since Edward had entered her life. Sexy lingerie.
Au revoir
Marks and Spencers,
bonjour
Victoria’s Secret, Sweet Dreams and Barely There. Oh yes, Edward was a man who liked to take his time undressing his sweetie, running his fingers over the silk and the lace, lifting a hem, eyes narrowing in anticipation, a smile curving that sensual mouth. Watching while she posed.

Posed! Sometimes, thinking of the old Caroline, she felt like blushing. How had she learnt to do such things, tease, flirt, play games? It had all started last summer, of course she’d been egged on by naughty Claudie, who, let’s face it, was Oscar material in the seduction game. No way would she ever have felt comfortable behaving like this with Liam the ex, but Edward was the perfect one-man audience. Just the sight of those amazing blue eyes turning dark with desire as she turned to look at him provocatively over one shoulder had her feeling dizzy and elated. Suddenly like a panther he would spring, grab her, the fire would blaze, the look of love would fill his eyes.

Oh she would do anything for him. And last weekend at Willowdale they’d scarcely had a minute. But they’d certainly made the most–

‘Earth to Caro? Are you receiving me?’

Geraldine had finished her phone call and was grinning at her from across the table.

‘Sorry, sorry, I was miles away.’

‘Hmm. You looked to be having a really good time, wherever you were.’

Caroline looked guilty.

‘Missing the man. Going to miss you too, dear Ratty. Bit of a long way, Thailand.’

‘Don’t start. I’ve already had my Mum doing the tragedy queen routine. We both have Skype, don’t we? And anyway, now I’m expecting the honeymooners. If I’m not installed in a palace owned by my rich Thai Prince I’ll put you up in my bedsit. You can even have my bed, and I’ll sleep on the futon, with earplugs.’

They parted an hour later, with hugs, double hugs, tears, and promises to ‘be in touch’.

Caroline headed for the Tube. Her appointment with the agent tomorrow wasn’t till ten, afterwards she could make a start on the final stages of packing and cleaning ready to hand over the keys at the beginning of next week.

And then, at last, she would be on her way.

Her phone rang, and she smiled as she saw Edward’s name appear on the screen.

‘Yes my darling, it’s over...not too bad, I think...OK, I’ll phone when I get to the flat. Love you,
mon homme
.’