Sea Gem (27 page)

‘How fast are we going?’ Tante gasped.

‘Nearly thirty miles an hour. Isn’t it fun?’

‘Don’t you dare go any faster, my girl!’ Tante told her sternly. ‘My nervous system won’t stand it!’

‘Rubbish! You’re as tough as old boots!’

Old Tante sniffed in her famous way, then allowed herself a twinge of pride. It was true, at her age, she was quite remarkable. She still had all her mental faculties and, apart from the more
frequent bouts of rheumatism, was active for her years. Her sight had let her down though and she was forced to peer owlishly through black-rimmed glasses. Lately, she had fancied her hearing might
also be deteriorating but this did not bother her. It could be useful at times not to hear what was said. It made a perfect excuse to go her own way in blithe indifference to other’s
opinions. Her hair had thinned a little but was still an attractive crown of white to her wise old face. She considered she had aged with dignity, which was more than could be said for some she
reminded herself.

‘You’ll live to be a hundred!’ Mary shouted back at her, turning to take the bend at Grand Havre. She had taken to driving easily and was proud of her skill. Retiring the cob,
selling the trap and buying the car had been one of her better moves.

Tante wasn’t at all sure she wished to live for a century but she passed no comment. When Mary was in one of these jolly moods she was inclined to let her hair down and become childishly
young and refreshing with it.

The old woman thought back wistfully. Did the good times really outweigh the bad ones? The last really bad memory had been when Mary shot Victor. His wound had been slight and easily attended to
with discretion. His pride though had been mauled and for days he breathed fire and thunder concerning Mary who had not turned a hair. Louise often wondered what Nicole le Page thought when her
husband returned with his wound. Victor had never said and Louise had always been aware that any mention of Nicole put their relationship on thin ice, though he had calmed down about the actual
shooting.

Victor visited his grandmère weekly and Mary, as promised, kept well away on these occasions and Victor had sense enough not to try and force an issue by walking up to the house.

Tante was always amused to notice though that, after Victor’s visit, Mary would casually appear and listen attentively to what they had discussed. If it had not been so deadly serious
between the pair of them, old Tante would have found it hilariously funny. Deep down though, when in a more sober mood, she reflected upon how incredibly sad it all was.

Mary brought the car to a slow halt where the lane ended at the edge of Ladies Bay. The land was flat, broken only here and there by old Martello towers. She dived into her handbag for a
cigarette, which caused Tante to frown though she said nothing. Mary quietly handed over a bag of toffees instead, her eyes twinkling, daring her companion to pass a comment.

‘Well,’ Mary said leaning back, exhaling smoke. ‘What is the news?’

Louise’s eyes twinkling maliciously. ‘If you would unbend enough to talk to him yourself, you’d find out!’ she teased coldly.

‘Tante!’

‘Oh very well,’ Tante said with another sniff.

‘The le Pages seem well and thriving. The twins are nice children. Victor brought them to see me two weeks ago but I’ve not yet met James, he’s only three. It was a shame they
lost Anna from the whooping cough in ’27. She was the spitting image of her father.’

‘And Madam le Page?’ Mary asked carefully.

Tante threw her a sideways look and did not reply. Victor had told her where his heart truly lay but after the shooting she had fancied his relationship with Nicole had entered a better phase.
She could only deduce he had given up his wild ideas for the time being.

Knowing how gossip flew around the island, Louise often asked herself uneasily exactly what Nicole did know. Surely she did not live in blind ignorance? Would she ever dare make trouble for the
family? As each year sped by and when nothing happened, Louise’s fears gradually evaporated, almost allowing Nicole le Page to vanish from her mind.

Nor did Mary think about Victor often now. She considered she had conquered that ghost at last and though it was true they bumped into each other occasionally, both behaved with the utmost
civility and manners. She admired Victor for the way he had gone ahead. His two hotels were now three, all in different parts of the island, which enabled him to cope with visitors of differing
tastes and requirements. He kept one open all year round and acquired three first-class managers, which left him free to concentrate upon administration and supervision. Mary knew he was well
thought of with a respected name just as she was aware of his regular visits to his grandmère.

The terrible heartache she had known for so long when thinking of him had gradually died down to be replaced with a warm glow. Whether this was maturity or the fact she worked so hard and was
exhausted each night, she was uncertain. She slept and ate well, enjoying tremendous health and fitness. Now she could think about Victor without churning nerves or pounding heart.

The number of properties they acquired was numerous, though some stood vacant needing considerable repair. James advised her to advance cautiously and Mary did this. Gradually, a cottage here or
a bungalow there were refurbished and joined those available to let on monthly or weekly terms.

She had two properties on the south coast with its magnificent walks; four on the west, two on the north and two inland. The east coast she ignored because of St Peter Port and St Sampson. These
properties, when occupied, provided a steady income, which grew because their business was becoming well known.

Raoul proved a godsend with his various skills. He learned to drive and a second vehicle was obtained for his exclusive use. The little cream van could be seen in various parts of the island
transporting Raoul and his tools on a repair or renovation work. Mary was vastly encouraged and had also toyed with the idea of a town house if she could find one, though premises of this nature
were difficult and expensive to obtain. All in all, during the years since Duret’s death, she had gone steadily forward and was well satisfied.

Her thoughts switched to her children. She smiled gently as she considered Margaret who was now fourteen years old and well on the way to considering herself a young lady. There had been a few
boisterous years when Margaret had lived as a tomboy but abruptly these had ceased so Mary guessed there was a boy at school. Margaret was bright with a great capacity to learn and she was a
pleasant child though had a will of her own and was difficult to turn aside when she had set her heart upon anything. From the start, Mary had learned that she was easy to discipline if a reason
was given for her not to do anything. Blind obedience would never be Margaret’s forte but a logical explanation was always accepted though detail had to be correct to the nth degree.
Sometimes Mary worried about her daughter. She was gifted enough to go to university which might mean the mainland and once there, would she lose her love for Guernsey? On the other hand, she had
never asked the girl what her future plans were. Sometimes Margaret could fall into a deep reserve where even Mary hesitated to trespass. She had learned it was better to wait because, in time,
Margaret would come to her and ask advice.

Edwin was a docile little boy. At ten years he was so reserved he was almost solemn but his face would light up whenever he saw her. Mary knew she loved him to distraction and it was a struggle
to keep this hidden from the other children. He was a lean child without much strength, mostly long arms and thin legs and it seemed as if a puff of wind would blow him away.

He adored big sister Margaret but was wary of elder brother William, which worried Mary. Edwin liked collecting things especially seashells. Margaret was not greatly interested but went along
with her young brother. William though looked down upon such juvenile interests, as beneath him.

Mary’s mind then turned to William and her lips went tight. William! At twelve years he had nothing in common with the other two children. He was a tall, very solid boy and Mary suspected
he would make a huge, powerful man. She had once asked old Tante whom he took after. The old woman hesitated a long time before replying that she did not quite know. Although Danny had been a tall
man he had not been hugely muscled whereas William already had protruding biceps muscles and William was secretive. Mary doubted whether any of them really knew what went on in his head. It was not
that he was impolite or downright disobedient. Mary suspected he was cunning and liked his creature comforts far too much to jeopardise himself, but always at the back of Mary’s head was the
thought she could not like this child. She hoped she never showed it. Indeed she went out of her way to talk to William and to show an interest in him. He was a great reader, far in advance even of
Margaret and he had an excellent ear for mimicry. Mary suspected languages would come easily to him and that might be where his future path would lay.

Mary knew that Margaret detested her younger brother and she wondered if William tried to bully Edwin. Certainly her love child had such a gentle nature he could never hope to stand up to
someone so sure of himself as William. Apart from his mother and great grandmère, there was only one person of whom William was afraid and that was his sister, whom he knew did not like him.
Margaret was a big girl and, as she had always been active, she could hit hard and true as William had learned to his cost. She, on her part, ignored him to the best of her ability and was almost
distasteful in her tone when forced to speak of him.

Mary was bothered about this. She hated a situation where family children were at loggerheads though she knew there was little she could do except keep a watchful eye on the three of them. At
the moment, William might be able to bully Edwin except that Margaret was always around as his watchdog and, for the time being, she was too strong for William to dominate. What would happen in a
few years’ time though when William entered his teens and acquired a man’s body?

‘Penny for them?’ old Tante said softly.

Mary turned to her. ‘I was thinking of the children and how different they all are.’

Tante threw her a quizzing look. ‘Including William?’

Mary nodded. ‘At least he’s caused me no trouble yet, thank God, but I still can’t find it in my heart to like him—yet I can’t give you a reason to dislike
him.’

‘As I said years ago, it’s instinct,’ Louise replied gently. ‘So far so good with him but Mary, never trust that boy!’

‘Come on, I’ll run you over to Sam’s while I pop into town and I’ll pick you up later,’ she said starting the engine.

Sam was long retired and lived happily with his pipe and foul-smelling tobacco in a small flat adjacent to where one of his married daughters had a home. He was perfectly happy in the evening of
his life because he had a small balcony, complete with cane chair and table, which was sheltered so he could sit outdoors and stare at the sea. By twisting his head to one side he was able to make
out St Peter Port and Castle Cornet. Once a week Mary drove Louise over to see Sam for an afternoon of happy reminiscence.

Emily too had retired, slightly put out that Sam had never spoken for her and she lived on the fringes of the town with another old friend. Raymond and Gwen worked together in the glasshouses
now that the Noyen children had grown. The Falla children were also at school so, gradually, Raymond had taken over the complete running of the tomato side of the business. Mary just checked the
books once a month because there was no doubt that Raymond had green fingers and their profit margin was constantly healthy, particularly since they had branched into flowers.

As she drove at a more sensible speed Mary was slightly puzzled. She had told no one but James had made an appointment to see her and not in his offices either. This was strange because it
indicated he wished to discuss something not connected with Noyen Enterprises.

James had married his Jane and produced one girl who was the apple of his eye and who went to an exclusive school on the mainland. Why this should be, Mary did not understand because Guernsey
had its own excellent schools. Miss le Canu boarded five days a week and spent the weekends with an uncle of James only coming back to the island for holidays—although Mary had heard that
James and Jane often went over to the mainland for weekend breaks with their daughter. Really, Mary thought with some irritation, I never thought James was such a snob.

James’ friend, Emil, the police sergeant, was far more down to earth. His son Derek and daughter Denise were educated on the island. Even Victor, despite his many English contacts and
trips, was educating his children in St Peter Port where they went to the same school as her own children. Once or twice it had crossed Mary’s mind to wonder exactly who was the boy who had
succeeded in converting Margaret from her tomboy habits. What if it should be young Michael le Page? She was not sure she liked this thought because it would inevitably draw her and Victor together
again. On the other hand, there was nothing she could do about it.

Her mind came back to James and his request to see her. He had suggested they meet at the bottom of Havelet Bay and so it was that half an hour after seeing Tante into a chair alongside that of
Sam, she had driven away, parked the car and now she stood looking out at the castle, eyes narrowed in thought. She could not help worry in case something traumatic had gone wrong with Noyen
Enterprises.

James spotted her waiting and increased his pace. He had been delayed at the last moment by a telephone call with a client who would go on and on over nothing of importance. He was wearing a
light grey suit with black shoes and the inevitable discreetly coloured tie. Indeed, it was only two days ago that Emil had teased him, saying a lawyer’s dress was just as much a uniform as
that any policeman wore. James had known this was true, so on this important day he had ransacked his wardrobe for something just a little bit different. Even his secretary had been astonished
enough to raise an eyebrow which had risen even higher when her employer had calmly informed her that he would not be available for three hours. He was busy seeing a client which was, James told
himself with satisfaction, the absolute truth.