The Vineyard (11 page)

Knowing Sophie to be fair, she tried to guess what her advice would be. She would probably give Cal and her mother the benefit of the doubt, and probably tell her that not many people would make up such a tragic story. And what would be the reason? Would her mother really go that far? Something was still bothering Lizzie though.

The sun’s rays had burned the mist off early this morning. She was getting hot, so Thierry must be too.

‘Hold tight, little man,’ she told Thierry and she spun the buggy round and, glaring up the uphill climb, she stopped. Taking a baby wipe from the bag on the buggy, she cooled herself and Thierry briefly before adding a top up on sun lotion. The steep route back would only add to the exhaustion from the hot sunshine but Thierry insisted on walking. Lizzie relented on the condition he kept his hat on.

Lizzie felt no nearer to a decision about seeing her mother. What she was curious to know, as her mind still pondered, was, presuming Cal hadn’t told her mother much about her, why he was putting so much of his time and effort into reuniting them? How would Sophie answer this one? Could she trust herself to make a decision?

She must not let Cal influence her decision that much she knew. She must not let him take control. She had to be rational and do her own thinking. Plus, she must get a grip on her reactions to him. That was embarrassing and highly inappropriate. Loneliness steeped inside her as she trundled up the hill.
Sophie Should I?

The only rock in her life other than Thierry was incommunicado. Sophie had always known what to do. Like a big sister she never had, she was an amazing support when Lizzie was pregnant. And, she wasn’t afraid to be direct and to tell her the truth. Although Lizzie didn’t like to trouble her with too much. Sophie had a busy life.

Oh how unlucky can a girl get?
Bloody Hugo, Anton. But, listening to Thierry chatter away, she felt truly lucky.

‘Are you enjoying your walk darling?’ she asked. He peered up to her, throwing his head back from under his hat and beaming a precious smile. The heat was having an obvious effect as his cheeks flushed.

‘Do you want a drink?’ she asked, pulling out his beaker. ‘After lunch and a sleep, we’ll have a nice cool swim.’

He had only eaten a banana since breakfast so he must be getting hungry. They could go for a swim when they got back to the hotel, which wasn’t too far now. God, she needed a long dip in the cool water after this uphill haul.

Back in her room, they quickly showered and changed, wearing their swimsuits under their clothes. She gathered Thierry’s bag, sun cream and towels. She then refilled his beaker and some of his biscuits. She was tempted to lie down on the freshly made beds and luxuriate in the coolness of the room but she feared she would miss Cal. They headed to the restaurant for a light lunch.

At the pool, with her son asleep and safely strapped in and shaded, Lizzie dived into the inviting blue pool and embraced the instant coolness. A few strokes later she emerged back at the surface and twisted her body on to her back, gracefully kicking her feet to glide along through the refreshing water – pure indulgence she thought, her eyes closed. Reaching the end of the pool, she glanced up to check on Thierry, but her eyes widened in disbelief.

Chapter 10

Anton glared right at her.
Oh fuck, this is all I need!
She quickly reasoned at least he could see that she was in France so she suddenly displayed her ‘told you so’ look and beamed confidently. ‘Well, this is a surprise. What have we done to deserve your company?’ she sniped.

‘Bonjour, Lizzie. As you know, I was worried,’ Anton said. ‘You look very well.’ His eyes leered at Lizzie’s silky golden body glistening in the water as she held to the side of the pool.

She shuddered, feeling exposed. ‘Well as you can see,’ Lizzie pointed to the sleeping child, ‘Thierry is also well and here, in France, with me.’

‘Ok, I admit I thought you had taken him to England, I have come to see for myself.’ He turned to Thierry, knuckling the side of his neck. ‘I was waiting to hear from you. Why does it take you so long? I want to spend time with my son, I have rights as a father Lizzie but you choose to ignore them.’

She pulled herself up from the pool and grabbed her towel, wrapping it securely around her. A deep sigh escaped her as she perched on the edge of the chair next to Thierry and found another towel in which she began squeezing on to the ends of her hair.

‘I’ve been really busy and obviously had plans already in place to bring Thierry away but as I explained to you last time I saw you,’ she told him in firm tones, ‘I never imagined you would be interested in a child and, of course, I never prepared for this. I need to find out the next steps.’

Her patience was thinning and, with her fingers, she rubbed her hair with vigour. ‘Well you don’t need to worry. I doubt I’ll be going to England, even though my mother is supposedly ill.’ Lizzie nibbled at the corner of her finger nail.

‘But if she is unwell you must go,’ Anton stated, unexpectedly concerned. ‘I will look after my son.’

Lizzie scolded herself.
Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut
?

‘Huh, if I thought she was genuine, I wouldn’t hesitate, believe me! Look, I just want to do this properly. Get professional help as to what’s best for Thierry,’ she said, her irritation climbing by the second. ‘I can’t leave him with you, not until…’

‘He will have everything he needs with me,’ Anton cut in.

‘No. Just wait until I return, the day after tomorrow and, I promise to sort it.’

Anton looked around him. ‘Would you like a drink?’ he asked, pulling his long t-shirt in an agitated way from his torso.

‘No. We’re fine,’ declared Lizzie, even though she was parched. ‘I have some bottled water in my bag and some juice for Thierry when he wakes. Thank you.’

‘Please have a drink with me Lizzie?’ he requested again. ‘I would like to talk to you now I’m here and, of course, see my son.’

Lizzie puffed, rewrapping her towel. ‘Anton, I’m wet, half naked and Thierry will… sorry but I really need some space right now. Please. You’ve found what you came for.’

‘What is wrong with giving me just an hour of your time? I have every right to see my son,’ Anton insisted.

‘Do I look like I want to sit and discuss things right now? I will make time as soon as I return. Thierry will want to go in the pool once he wakes. I’m sorry, this is just not the right time.’

‘I think I’ve waited long enough,’ he said, placing both his hands on his hips.

Thierry began to stir.

‘You’ll just have to wait a bit longer. Why the rush now. You’ve known for weeks, months and you didn’t bother. Is it you couldn’t stand the thought of not being in control of my life? That’s not my problem. As for my taking him to England,’ Lizzie fired, ‘What difference does it make to you where I take Thierry?’

‘If you take him out of France I will never see him again,’ he accused.

‘I won’t live in a bubble at your convenience Anton,’ she told him as he pulled another chair close by and sat with her head under the shade.

Lizzie bent down to Thierry as he stretched in his pushchair.

She spoke softly. ‘I have built him a life that’s comfortable. He’s a happy, healthy child. Children need love, care, time, nurture and emotional support. It has to be done gradually. Yes, I took a risk not telling you. We, or I, made a mistake but I was prepared to take the consequences. I’ve never asked you to pay for that mistake. Yes it was a big decision but I’ve just dealt with what I had to do. Right now he has no idea who you are. You wouldn’t know him or how to take care of him. It would need time,’ she said, unstrapping Thierry and sitting him on her lap.

‘Now you don’t know that. He will soon get to know me, won’t you?’ Anton moved forward and raised his hand to Thierry’s small hand but the child gave an ill-tempered groan and his father shot back into his chair.

‘He’s just woken up,’ Lizzie said. ‘He’s groggy.

‘He should be happy then surely?’ Anton gave his son a smile but Thierry rubbed his eyes and yawned.

‘Sometimes he is but usually first thing in the morning.’

How could she explain to Anton all there was to know about children? There was lots he didn’t understand but, she knew however, Anton would never accept that. She was sure he wouldn’t leave until he got some sort of result for his trouble. She quaked at the idea of leaving her son with him. The image of him losing his patience with Thierry horrified her. He could potentially scar the child with fear. She had to think of something quickly but she couldn’t.

‘Drink, Mummy,’ Thierry whimpered.

‘Look, I suggest we work through this at the right time. Once I’m back home, I’ll organise some visits, short ones to begin with and build it up gradually.’ She put Thierry back in the push chair and reached into her bag for his drink. Anton made his way behind the child’s buggy stroking the handles. Lizzie’s heart lurched and she swallowed hard, not taking her eyes off him for a second.

‘Why do you make it sound so complicated. He is my son and I have a right to him,’ he said, wiggling his hands and trying to manoeuvre the buggy. Lizzie sprang out of her chair and lurched over her son like giant crab gripping every corner of the buggy.

‘Don’t play games Anton.’

‘Oh, you really don’t trust me do you? What did you think I was going to do, run away with him?’

Her eyes drilled straight into his smirking face and scowling dark eyes. Yes, it was obvious what she thought but she wasn’t taking any chances. She took a deep breath, attempting to calm her thumping heart, and eased herself up, keeping a vigil on his movements. He laughed at her.

‘Great pose by the way. I bet those guys down there got quite a show. Here, give them another one.’ And he wiggled the buggy again, grinning. She shot back into crab.

‘Stop being so childish Anton,’ she urged louder, aware he was now mocking her but it made her nervous just the same and she didn’t really care what she was showing at this moment in time.

‘Why do I have to do things your way? You didn’t and don’t give a fuck about me,’ he said, narrowing his eyes, and then he lowered his head, searching the back of the buggy, Lizzie feared, to find the brake. She thrust her weight down with all her might, her feet locked around the front wheels. He seemingly found the brake and thrust the buggy backwards, Lizzie clung on for dear life, with panic roaring through her ready to explode. She let out a scream.

‘Stop. Stop now or I call the police.’ Cal raced to the scene and she saw Anton throw a look of horror at the tall figure closing in on him.

‘Here is your lover boy to the rescue but he’s not having my son. I think it’s time I took him home. This is my child,’ Anton thundered as he held on fiercely. Cal clutched his phone in one hand whilst crowding his body in front of Anton.

‘I can call the police or you can let go of the child.’ They were chest to chest. ‘Lizzie take the child from the buggy and go straight to your room.’ Panting like a racing greyhound, Lizzie grabbed Thierry, her hands, fumbling for her bag. She dragged it from the floor and flew from the terrace.

‘You have no right,’ Anton protested, stepping forward. ‘I am his father.’

Cal lifted his arm and clasped a firm grip on the other man’s shoulder. ‘Unless you have proof you are the child’s father, I suggest you leave quietly otherwise I will call the police.’ Cal remained composed, not taking his eyes from Anton’s.

‘You cannot stop me taking my own child,’ Anton protested, his body rigid as his furious eyes glared at the interloper.

Cal stared down at him from his six foot frame and didn’t budge. He held firm, staring patiently until Anton also finally calmed.

***

Clutching the boy in her arms Lizzie reached her room, squatting while her shaking hands searched for her keys in her bag. Thierry clung to her neck.

‘It’s ok darling,’ she whispered. You’re safe. Mummy will get you your drink as soon as we get inside. Ahh, here they are.’ That was the main thing. He was safe. He was unhurt. They were both safe. He was with her.

Securing the door behind her she blew out a huge sigh and released Thierry to the floor. She lifted his drink out of her bag followed by a smaller bag.

‘Swim?’ he asked.

‘Later, darling. Chocolate biscuit?’ She pulled out the miniature pack and his tongue emerged at her with his biggest smile and Lizzie’s heart swirled in delight as she handed them to him.
He’s ok.

‘And, cars,’ she gathered some from his bed, ‘Yes, they’re wanting to come and play with you. Here sit on the floor and Mummy will get your play mat and I’ve also got some grapes and strawberries you can eat. You like those don’t you?’

Once settled, Lizzie found herself some water and fell back in the chair and watched her beautiful son.
Why oh why did I ever admit to Anton that you were his son? I obviously didn’t think this through.
But he’d caught her unaware. Cal, well, he was now her hero, and Thierry’s. Thank God he arrived when he did. He immediately took control. It took guts to intimidate Anton.

She could only blame herself, she thought. It was her own fault for not having some kind of strategy in place, a story just in case. So confident was she back then that he wouldn’t be interested in a child, she thought it the best option never to let him know. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all. Or was it? If she had told him, he could have done everything in his power to make her abort it, or insist they married or, and she didn’t know what could possibly have been worse, control and manipulate everything she did. None of the possibilities were pleasant, and now he had found out the truth, gaining control was probably his intention but, snatching her son, would he? Was he teasing or was he for real? She had to find a way to deal with him.

That’s if Cal hasn’t beat him to pulp she thought, recollecting how strong and imposing Cal looked against Anton out there. She stood suddenly and peered out of the terrace window. They could not be seen. She opened the door and poked her head out as stealthily as she could so as not to get noticed. Neither man was to be seen.