The Vineyard (22 page)

‘Non, non.’ He shook his head. He continued reading and, reading. ‘D’accord. Ok, yes I raise enquiries and send to you.’

‘Well at the moment the issues are as I’ve listed there,’ she said, stabbing her finger at the paper in his hand, ‘and, you may have more. I feel there is room for negotiation. If you don’t agree, then please say so. I will not waste your time.’

‘Leave it with me and I will call you.’

‘How long will you take? We wish to be in a soon as possible,’ Sophie enquired, losing confidence.

‘I will call you.’

Frustrated at his abrupt manner and service, Sophie stood to leave, biting her proverbial tongue. She motioned to turn but then rashly reached over his desk and reclaimed her papers.

‘Please don’t put yourself out, Monsieur.’ She marched out of the offices and out to the lift. What a waste of time he was. There was no point in paying a slimy slug to do a stallion’s job. Notaries weren’t cheap.

Inside the lift she let her finger hover over the number six. She felt an impulse to see Charles once again, otherwise she could leave here and never see him again. She scrunched her nose and clenched her fists. Would he think she was chasing or stalking him? Mmm, yes rather childish, she told herself. She hit the button for the ground floor Foyer. Once outside the lift she inspected the listings board at the entrance to find out which company was on the sixth floor. If she knew his company, she could find a phone number and an excuse to call him. She noted the law firm and spun round on her heels, crashing straight into Charles.

‘Wrong floor was it?’ he said, seemingly more recovered.

‘Ahhh,’ she squirmed. ‘No,’ she said, flustered at being caught. Thinking quickly, she said, ‘I…I was looking for another notaries’ office to deal with a commercial property lease. The one I’ve just spoken to doesn’t inspire much faith.’ It was an understatement.

‘Commercial leases are pretty rigid here in France. Any lawyer can deal with it, mainly because there is very little leverage.’

‘Oh really?’

‘Yes, I deal mainly in family law, but possibly I can help?’

‘Well, I have a copy here of the draft and a copy of the enquiries Lizzie and I wish to raise. If you could have a look at it, we’d be very grateful. And,’ she said pursing her lips, ‘we are kinda in a hurry which, slimy slug up there was not!’

Charles gave her an assessing squint. ‘Ok, on one condition?’

‘Oh.’ Her eyes searched his in excited anticipation and lots of lust.

‘You leave this with me today so that I can read through it and the queries and you let me take you out tomorrow night to discuss it.’

‘Tomorrow? What’s on tomorrow?’ She asked, mockingly raising her eyes.

‘Well if…’ Charles began.

‘Tomorrow’s fine,’ she smiled, just tell me where.’

***

The following evening, after speaking to Lizzie and updating her on how her meeting went with the notary, Sophie was now eagerly filling her in on her accidental meeting with Charles. Lizzie couldn’t help but feel the exuberance in Sophie’s voice transport itself down the phone. She was pleased of course. Anything which kept Sophie in Cannes was a bonus and of course, Charles seemed a very sweet man, a little detached for her liking, but pleasant and obviously Sophie was highly smitten with him from the very first time she clapped eyes on him. Lizzie gave Sophie her blessing.

It had taken her almost two hours for Sophie to decide what to wear. As she emerged from the lift, Charles was waiting. She stepped out on the ground floor of Lizzie’s apartment building and couldn’t believe her eyes. Delighted he had made such an effort, she wolf-whistled inside her head. He was in a casual but beautiful navy linen shirt, which hung loosely from his firm frame yet tucked neatly into his stone-coloured jeans, giving a very stylish silhouette.

On her olive skin, a simple cream shift dress combined with hair wrapped up in a chignon style gave Sophie an elegant edge. He gave her the once over with his eyes too and said, ‘You look beautiful.’

‘Thank you, looking good yourself.’

‘I’ve got these new. Don’t get out much,’ he apologised. ‘I haven’t booked anything so is there anywhere you want to go?’

‘I’m new to Cannes. Lizzie normally leads, I follow so, I’ll go wherever floats your boat.’

‘Well that’s easy then, I’ll take you down the yacht club,’ Charles said, and they both laughed at the unintentional pun. ‘Joking aside,’ he said, rousing her with his alluring smile, ‘they always have delicious food on the menu.’

‘That sounds good.’ She sighed pressing lightly at her chest to ease her blood flow. ‘I shall trust your judgement.’

‘Well now the responsibility is on me,’ he grimaced.

‘Absolutely.’

They strolled down to the marina, chatting nervously. The air was warm and balmy and the sun now cooling. Charles smelled delicious and Sophie wanted to slide her arm into his and claim him as hers as passing females looked on in admiration.

When they reached the yacht club, the marina was full to capacity with sailing vessels, masts bobbing gently in the Mediterranean waters. Outside on the terraces diners chatted. Inside the bar was lively, with groups and couples fashioned in casual evening wear and passionate discussions. Sophie at once felt at ease as Charles was acknowledged by staff and regulars as he led her in. For their dinner, they both opted for and enjoyed the plate du jour.

Whilst engaged in conversation and sipping Champagne afterwards, Sophie sensed eyes on her from a table close to the bar. She tried to look from the corner of her eye without turning. He was with a female, quite young, beautiful. Finally sliding her head around, his eyes were unmistakable. Anton nodded with a smile and she replied with a conciliatory wave.

Charles followed her stare. ‘Do you know Anton D’Aramitz?’ he asked.

‘Not really. My friend Lizzie used to know him.’

‘Yes, he seems to know most women in Cannes. He might be ‘yachty totty,’ Charles continued, ‘but he’s actually known as Capone de Cannes.’

‘Why Capone?’

‘He’s quite notorious for having his mob behind him everywhere he goes. They’re just impressionable youngsters really. Like to think they’re hard-core gangsters or mafia. I don’t really know what else he gets up to other than bribery. That’s come from a more non-official channel of course.’

‘A pest too. Unfortunately, he is Lizzie’s son’s father. And, he’s recently found out,’ Sophie added. ‘He keeps calling at the salon wanting to talk to Lizzie but she’s in England with Thierry.’

‘Ah, right.’ Charles wiped his lips after sipping his drink, remembering that Cal had mentioned something briefly about an ex of Lizzie’s.

‘He knows she’s in England caring for her mother but it seems he is pissed off about his son going to England with Cal.’ Sophie looked at Charles.

‘I’m not going to cast any aspersions but I’m guessing he’s not concerned about the boy but rather his own pride is at stake.’

Sophie clapped her hand on the table. ‘It’s funny you should say that.’

Charles didn’t give much away to Sophie but Anton was a big name in Cannes and the sailing community and was not one for Lizzie to mess with. He had heard about some of his antics. History of drugs and bribery. It was not for him to intervene though. ‘So, tell me about your plans in Cannes?’ Charles was now keen to change the subject.

Sophie gave him a knowing, albeit sultry glance, behind her champagne flute. ‘I thought you would have heard enough about mine and Lizzie’s plans last time we met.’

‘Well I heard about the new salon in the Rue Antibes and you had just been to look around. Obviously, I had a look at the draft lease you left with me.’

‘Oh yes, what did you think of the points I made?’

‘Well I think you could negotiate on the price a bit on the grounds that the basement needs work. That’s probably why it’s not used currently and needs drying out. You could get a report on its condition before negotiating.’

‘I could ask the builders to give us an estimate. Ok, I’ll speak to them and to Lizzie.’

‘Otherwise, there’s just this anomaly this specific landlord seems to have, which I’m sure is just an error. The Landlord cannot refuse to renew generally but if he does he has to pay the tenant an indemnity.’

‘Ok. Well, would you mind checking that too?’

Charles gave her a wink and a smile. ‘Well I shall have to make it conditional again as now we have had more of a business meeting than an evening out. So are you free again on Saturday?’

‘Ooh. I shall need to consult my diary tomorrow before I can confirm,’ Sophie grinned playfully ‘Yes of course I am.’

Charles blushed, re-filling their glasses, which Sophie found endearing.

‘So how come you are working in France?’ she asked.

‘Oh, we…my wife and I moved here over six years ago,’ he said.

Sophie’s heart sank. ‘You’re married?’ she asked.

‘Was. Katie died, was killed two years ago. She was knocked off her bike.’

‘Oh. I’m sorry,’ she replied.

Charles continued to describe her accident and the days after. As she listened, his tone and uneasy pauses were evidence of how much he had loved his wife. Sophie was almost in tears herself.

‘So, we both had a love of France from our childhood holidays, both spoke the language and Katie wanted to teach here so after she’d taught a few years in England, and I’d worked for a year in London, we moved and made a home here. I’ve sold it now. Couldn’t bear to stay at the house, but couldn’t face going back to London either, that’s why I have an apartment now in town, near the marina. Sailing was all I had left.’

‘That’s so tragic, Charles. I don’t know what to say.’

‘You don’t have to say anything. It’s easier for me if you know anyway. I still speak about her and I can’t wipe it out but…I’m afraid I’m still dealing with it, so bear with me.’

‘Of course.’

‘So, tell me about your family,’ he said, sitting back. ‘You’re not here to listen to my woes. Why are you in France?’

Sophie tilted her head and leaned forward on the table, directing him a soft smile. He was just perfect she decided. Handsome, intelligent and sensitive. She began her story.

Chapter 22

Lizzie had been busy whilst Sophie and her manager were overseeing everything for her in Cannes. Looking after her mother the past two weeks had proved to be hard work, not just physically but emotionally. On her mother’s second day home, Cal had taken Thierry down to the vines in the tractor to help him, a delight which Thierry was taking on an almost daily basis, but time alone with her mother gave them a chance to chat and learn more about each other. It was this second day when Caroline told her to sit down.

‘I want to thank you,’ her mother said. ‘And unless you sit down, I can’t talk to you.’

‘I was going to make another cup of tea,’ Lizzie said, sitting on a sofa facing her mother’s chair in the lounge. ‘And you don’t owe me any thanks anyway.’

‘Yes I do. If it wasn’t for your intervention, I wouldn’t be where I am.’

‘What do you mean?’ Lizzie enquired, now pulling her knees up and slouching into the sofa arm.

‘At the hospital. The day after you first came to see me, the nurse…she gave me your message,’ Caroline stated, peering at her daughter over her glasses. ‘Of course I had no idea what it meant, but the nurse explained to me who Macmillan were and brought me a leaflet. I then asked if they were in the hospital and if they could come and see me.’

Lizzie’s eye widened. She couldn’t believe it. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, and this lady, Jean, her name was, came in and she sat down with me. Then we went into a little room and asked me lots of questions about how I was. I naturally told her I was healing well and a bit scared that the cancer would have spread but instead of just getting up and saying fine or whatever, she sat for ages making me talk about me, my feelings, my fears, my emotions. I cried for ages but she didn’t make me feel daft or anything. Then each day she came back and we spoke for at least an hour, sometimes longer, but each time, she covered things like, how angry or bitter I was feeling, and what to do about it and how I was going to manage with my disease and my family and what help I had and we spoke about you and the more she asked, the more I told her and we talked about me as a mother and its effects on you etc. It was quite a revelation Lizzie.’

As her mother’s eyes filled with tears, Lizzie took her hand. ‘Mum.’ She held back waiting for her mother to finish.

‘We even spoke about me as a child, and how that influenced my life and me as a mother. I did tell her about our row a few weeks back and the things you accused me of. But she didn’t try to judge me. She…she said that I had had a lot of difficulties myself and that was normal but it wasn’t too late to make things better. And Lizzie, she made me realise what was important in my life and what would make me happy in the future.’ Caroline held out her hand and summoned her daughter to hug to her, ‘I’m just so grateful you did that.’ She wrapped Lizzie close. ‘That’s why I want to thank you. Can you imagine if you hadn’t?’

Lizzie wiped her eyes not sure whether they were tears of joy or sorrow. The fact that she had helped in such a huge way was beyond her, however unwittingly she had done it. Her mother was happy and so was she.

‘So when I found that photo of Thierry, I was just bursting to know darling,’ cried her mother.

Each day, Lizzie learned more and more about her mother. More than she really needed to know perhaps but it opened both their hearts, which Lizzie found rewarding. She now felt she could be honest with her mother about how she’d felt. What she imagined could take people months of therapy had been condensed into just their few weeks together. Both had grown so much but were still learning.

Although she hadn’t planned to, Lizzie had also afforded herself the luxury of reading the beauty books and magazines her mother dug out from her career days. Some of them were several decades old but a treasure trove of inspiration and ideas none the less and with her mother’s experience of the industry, she just soaked in the knowledge her mother so eagerly imparted.

When her mother was occupied with Thierry, Lizzie took the opportunity to get on with her work, making detailed plans for the salon. Sketches for room designs, inventories for new and, existing equipment, staffing levels and budget planning, she was rather pleased she had made good use of the time. She had also made some special plans for Thierry’s third birthday, now just two days away.