Chapter two

A

s the plane started the descent into Guernsey, Charlotte gazed out of the window, eager to spot any familiar landmarks. Not that she knew the island very well, having only spent a mere few weeks here in the early spring. She was just relieved to be arriving on the island with the prospect of being amongst friends. The past few months had not been easy and she hoped the change of scene and the pampering at the retreat would bring much needed clarity. A chance to look forward and not back. Catching a glimpse of what could be La Folie, she smiled.

‘You look happy, dear. Returning home are you?’ asked her neighbour, an older woman clad in layers of woolly jumpers in spite of the mild September weather.

‘No I’m not, actually. But I’ve been here before and loved it. I’m staying at the new retreat, La Folie.’

‘My! I’ve heard it’s quite something. One of my nieces works there. Helps in the kitchen, she does. Not cheap though, is it? You need a few bob to stay there,’ she said, giving Charlotte an appraising look.

‘Yes, well, it’s worth it. And the food is outstanding, so do please pass on my thanks to your niece.’ Charlotte flashed the woman a quick smile, aware she was being judged by her clothes and probably her accent. She knew she looked what she was: a successful, elegant businesswoman. But inside she held a knot of tension, desperate to uncoil and feel at ease. The reason she was here.

The woman nodded before releasing her seatbelt and standing up. Within minutes the passengers were filing into the terminal and those collecting their luggage encircled the carousel. Charlotte lifted off her case and wheeled it through to arrivals.

‘Charlotte! At last!’ cried Louisa, waving frantically before engulfing her in a hug.

As the two women drew apart, faces wreathed in smiles, Charlotte felt a release of some of the tension.

‘Come on, we can chat in the car,’ Louisa said, linking arms as they walked towards the exit. Louisa steered her to a snazzy blue convertible with the roof tucked away in the boot.

‘Like the car.’ Charlotte grinned as Louisa stored the case.

‘Thanks. I love the feel of the wind in my hair, don’t you? Okay let’s go, La Folie here we come.’

Charlotte had time to study her friend while Louisa was engaged in negotiating the exit from the airport. Physically there was little difference since they had last met in May, but with Louisa’s long blond hair tied back in a ponytail, Charlotte saw the slight downturn to her mouth and the lack of sparkle in her eyes. Something was not quite right. And her guess was it was to do with Paul…

‘So, how are things? When we’ve spoken on the phone you’ve said how much you love your house, but not a lot about Paul and the job.’

Louisa turned her head, sighing.

‘Everything’s sort of fine between us, we’re just finding it difficult to spend a lot of time together. Something Paul promised wouldn’t be an issue.’

‘Didn’t you say the centre was taking on extra therapists to take the pressure off him?’

‘Yes, and that’s happened. We have another yoga teacher and I share the physio work with the original therapist, Trevor. So in theory all should be fine. But…’ She shrugged, focusing back on the road.

‘We can chat later. How’s Malcolm? Heard from him lately?’

Louisa’s look of pain told her the answer.

‘Not for a couple of weeks. He did say he might be off grid for a while and not to worry. Easier said than done when it’s your father. Particularly after his mini-stroke…’

‘Hey! Stop worrying. If there was anything wrong you’d have heard. And he’s a pretty tough cookie, so cheer up. I’ve been looking forward to coming over and spending some time with you.’

Louisa must have heard the slight rebuke in her voice and she flashed a smile.

‘Sorry. I’m very happy you’re here and I intend to spend as much of my free time with you as I can. Now, how’s the book going? You’ve not said anything about it on the phone.’

‘That’s because it’s not going well. I’ve done loads of research, to the extent I could enter Mastermind with my speciality subject of Emma, Lady Hamilton and wipe the field,’ she said, frowning. ‘But I can’t seem to get to grips with the fictional characters. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m cut out to be a writer after all.’ The knot of tension grew tighter as she said out loud what she’d been thinking for weeks.

‘Mm. Why don’t you get in touch with Jeanne? You two seemed to hit it off that time in Sark and I’m sure she’d be happy to give you some pointers.’

‘Good thinking. As a published author of fiction and non-fiction she’s perfect.’ Charlotte had forgotten about Jeanne and the thought of talking through her problem with her lifted her spirits. Then she remembered something. ‘Ah, wasn’t she due to have another baby last month?’

‘Yep, she had a little girl, Freya. Very cute and adored by her big brother, Harry.’

‘Wonderful! But she’s going to be up to her eyes in nappies and everything so won’t have much time for chatting.’ Her heart sank again. The one person she knew who might understand what she was going through with her writing would be too busy to meet. As a publisher Charlotte knew many authors, but could not bring herself to admit to any of them her sense of failure. She had her reputation, and that of her company, to uphold. Whereas Jeanne was detached and more likely to be sympathetic. Pity.

Louisa pulled up near the front door of La Folie, the gothic style mansion recently transformed into a beautiful, up-market natural health centre. As they got out of the car, she said, ‘Paul’s gift to Jeanne when Freya was born was some massages and use of the pool. She’s already been and will be back soon so you could chat then. Molly, the counsellor you met here last time, is an old friend and babysits for her.’

Charlotte laughed. A deep, throaty laugh as she was struck by an amusing thought. ‘I have the distinct impression everyone on this island knows everyone else. There would be no way of keeping secrets here.’

Louisa grinned. ‘You’d be surprised! Come on, let’s get you settled in and then we can head off for one of Chef’s fab juices.’

The receptionist, Nadine, welcomed Charlotte with a broad smile, telling her she would be in Serenity this time. On her last visit her room was Peace; all the guest rooms had spiritual sounding names and Charlotte knew this room was the best on offer as Louisa had been installed in it when they first met. Special treatment for the owner’s daughter.

Louisa suggested they meet in the dining room in half an hour and left her in the capable hands of Nadine. Moments later Doug, the young Canadian gofer, arrived to escort Charlotte to her room. After flashing his bright white smile, Doug carried her bag upstairs while asking how she was. Charlotte was touched he remembered her, thinking again how well trained were the staff. Malcolm Roget’s background had been in hotels, the owner of a luxury Canadian chain before selling up and opening La Folie at the beginning of the year. The attention to detail was superb; something wealthy guests like her appreciated.

Once on her own, Charlotte immediately checked the view from the huge bay window. She had visited Louisa in the room on her previous visit so knew what to expect. The vista of immaculate gardens leading to the cliff paths and ultimately the sea, again made her catch her breath. The garden was as colourful as it had been in spring, but the flowers were different. Charlotte recognised, amongst others, abelia, Chinese lanterns, agapanthus, varieties of daylily, rose and hydrangea. Pinks, blues and reds vied with each other against the green of the foliage. With a sigh of appreciation she turned back to inspect the room, once again admiring the golden maple wood of the four-poster and other furniture, the smooth marble-like walls and the silky ivory bedlinen. Only the best would do for the guests of La Folie.

She unpacked her case before changing into the loose fitting clothes more appropriate for her stay. No longer the publisher, she was now on retreat. As she checked her image in the mirror she saw a very different woman to the one who had stayed here only months before. Now, she was not only slimmer, having lost a stone in weight, but her eyes had more of a sparkle. Charlotte had always been considered striking; tall with glossy brown hair, green eyes and a creamy complexion. But being dumped by her erstwhile husband for a younger model had knocked her self-esteem and she had put on weight and lost her spark. She was glad to have found La Folie, telling herself she looked pretty damn good for a woman pushing forty. Louisa had told her how sad she’d looked when they first met and she was right. Charlotte had been lost but now…

For a moment she hesitated. Although she looked and felt better, there was still something not right with her life. It had been liberating to make the decision to become a writer and not just a publisher, filling her with anticipation of a new chapter in her life. She had inherited the company from her father, Michael, and never felt quite comfortable with the idea she had not earned her role as editor in chief. Becoming a writer was meant to establish her as successful in her right, but then she had hit a stumbling block with the actual writing and had lost heart. She had started well but then it became harder, finding it difficult to visualise her characters as real people, living real lives. She could only hope it was temporary, having made the mistake, she now realised, of telling everyone she planned to write a novel and did not want to lose face. A thought too horrible to contemplate.

Her mother’s illness also hung over her like a dark cloud. Charlotte planned to ring her soon, but their conversations were always strained and she knew, deep down, she was afraid of possible bad news. It was hard, coming so soon after losing her father, who she missed more than ever. He had been the one rock in her life. Thinking of him now, she had to brush away a tear.

Then there was the question of no man in her life. After Richard had walked out, she had forsworn men, her heart – and self-confidence – shattered into pieces. But there were times when she missed the company of a man – and the sex – and as she headed downstairs to meet Louisa could not help but envy her friend. Paul, although not her own type, was lovely. Surely if there were problems between them they could be solved? She hoped so.

Charlotte found Louisa chatting to a waitress in the dining room, set in the light and airy sun room overlooking the gardens.

‘I was asking what today’s juice special was and it’s Chef’s “Energiser”. Fancy some?’

‘One of my favourites. Shall we sit outside?’

They found an empty table on the terrace and Charlotte, after making sure there was no-one else in earshot said, ‘OK, what’s the problem?’

Louisa shifted in her chair. ‘I think it must be me. I love Paul, I know that. But I…I’m struggling to trust in our relationship. As if some part of me knows it won’t last. Ever since Mum died I…I expect to lose people I love.’

Charlotte’s heart ached for her, knowing what it was like to lose one parent with the other seriously ill. And to lose a husband to someone younger. She stroked Louisa’s arm.

‘I understand. You’ve gone through a lot these past months, but surely Paul’s not backing off?’

‘It’s hard to tell as we don’t see a great deal of each other except at work and then we can’t really talk. With Dad away I think Paul feels burdened by the responsibility of the centre, even though Dad took a back seat. At least when he was on the island Paul could run things past him.’ She sipped her juice and appeared to be debating with herself. Looking at Charlotte she went on, ‘I’m beginning to think Paul’s not as confident in himself as he appears. He’s never had to manage such a new enterprise before and I think he’s feeling the pressure. Doesn’t want it to fail.’

‘I see. Has he said anything to you? About the pressure, I mean.’

Louisa shook her head. ‘Oh no. And I wouldn’t expect him to. Male ego and all that,’ she said with a wry smile.

Charlotte took a sip of her own juice.

‘So you need to ask him if he’s feeling the pressure. Without sounding as if you’re judging him. Offer to help in any way you can. He might be relieved to know he’s not on his own.’

‘I guess. I’ll have a chat with him – if I get the chance! It’s been made worse lately cos the new yoga teacher, Judy, has been off sick. But she should be back in a day or two and Paul won’t need to buzz around like a blue-arsed fly.’

Charlotte laughed. ‘At no time could I imagine cool, calm and collected Paul buzzing around like a fly! Is he running the morning yoga sessions? I always adored those.’

‘Yep, at the moment.’ Louisa glanced at her watch. ‘I’ll have to love you and leave you as I have a client booked. How about we all eat together here tonight? Normally I’d go home and cook and Paul would either join me or eat in his rooms.’

‘Lovely. I’ll see you both later. In the meantime I need to arrange my therapies with Nadine.’

Once her friend had left, Charlotte continued to sit in quiet contemplation of the garden. Fellow guests strolled along the paths and for a moment she found herself studying a lone male. Tall, good-looking and in his forties. In spite of her decision to avoid men, she couldn’t help but notice him. Solo men of the right age were conspicuous by their absence in this sort of retreat. Just as she was considering going over and introducing herself, a female guest came out of the dining room behind her and headed, laughing, towards him. His face split into a grin and they shared a hug before sauntering towards the cliff path. She might have known he was spoken for and it was probably just as well. It would be better to focus on finding her writing mojo and forget men. They were always trouble, anyway.