Chapter six

T

he following day Charlotte was relieved to be diverted with an excursion with Louisa, who had a free day. Much as she enjoyed being pampered at La Folie, it was good to get out and explore the island while the Indian summer held sway. They had enjoyed many hours sightseeing during her last visit and today planned to explore the south coast around Jerbourg Point. But first she had a yoga class to attend.

‘So, have you heard from Malcolm yet?’ Charlotte asked as Louisa drove towards St Martins.

‘No and I’m starting to worry. I know he said not to, but I can’t help it. Thought I’d give Glenn at the agency a ring and see if he’s heard anything, as Dad booked the trip through him. At least I can trust Glenn not to blab on me!’

‘True. How’s the business going since he took over?’

‘Very well, apparently. Glenn always sounds upbeat when we talk. Now Voyages handles all the travel arrangements for La Folie, our clients are also using them for their other holidays. It’s been win-win since he bought the agency from me.’

‘Good. Where was Malcolm when you last heard?’

‘Bali.’ She frowned. ‘Not best known for its health and safety arrangements.’

Charlotte had to agree but didn’t say so, not wanting to worry her friend further. ‘Hey, I’m sure he’s fine. Just being a typical man and not staying in touch. And, to be fair, until recently he had no-one who cared about his whereabouts. Being a father is still quite new for him.’

‘Uh huh. I guess. Anyway, I’ll ring Glenn and see what he says,’ Louisa replied before bringing the car to a halt in the Jerbourg car park. ‘Right, let’s get walking.’

‘What a fabulous view! Herm and Sark are so clear and I can even see France. And that must be Jersey to our right. I must get over there sometime. Have you been yet?’

Louisa shook her head. ‘No, but Paul wants to take me for a weekend once he gets the time off, which hopefully won’t be long now Judy, his deputy’s back. One of our friends, Nicole, was born in Jersey and has the use of her parents’ flat. We may be able to stay there when we finally arrange it. Would be nice,’ she sighed, before turning to face Charlotte. ‘I forgot to ask how it went with Jeanne. You said you were meeting her.’

‘It was fine.’ She didn’t want to say too much as although Jeanne had given her hope, she still had to put her ideas into action. ‘Jeanne offered me some helpful tips about writer’s block and then we talked about Andy. She said she’d talk to him but I’ve not heard anything yet.’ Charlotte had more or less decided it had been a foolish whim to offer her services and Andy wouldn’t want her poking her nose in even if it could be to his advantage. She would need to find something else to give her a sense of purpose and stop thinking about her mother.

‘Oh, right. Well I’m glad she helped. Are you going to get back to your novel when you leave La Folie?’

‘That’s the idea!’ she said, forcing herself to smile.

They stood on the edge of the car park drinking in the view. Herm, the smaller island, looking tranquil and inviting, hunkered down in the sea, the nearest beach golden in the sun. Sark, on the other hand, rose up majestically atop steep cliffs.

‘What a brill day we had in Sark at Easter. Have you been over again since?’ Charlotte asked, remembering their fun day cycling on the island.

‘Yes, Paul and I had a day trip a couple of months ago and we’ve also been to Herm. Gorgeous! You must try and get over while you’re here.’

Charlotte laughed. ‘What I really need is a retreat at La Folie followed by a stay in a hotel as a normal tourist. That way I get the best of both worlds!’

Grinning, Louisa said, ‘You know, you could be onto something there. We could offer a double package for anyone to do just that. Good thinking, Batman.’

Laughing, they set off eastwards along the cliff path, leading ultimately to St Peter Port. They were in no hurry, the day stretched ahead and the sun warmed their faces, the peace only disturbed by raucous seagulls wheeling overhead. The tang of the sea mingled with the scent of the flowering broom and heather. As she chewed on a blade of grass, Charlotte remarked, ‘So much has happened to us both since the spring. But particularly you. I don’t suppose you ever dreamt you’d end up living here, did you?’

‘Nope. I thought I’d find my father and then return to London and…well, pick up the pieces.’ Louisa took a lungful of air and released it with a deep sigh. ‘It’s not been easy, as you know, but once that man was jailed for killing Mum, it made it easier to embrace my new life. All I need now is to know Dad’s safe and spend more time with Paul. Easy-peasy!’ She turned to face Charlotte, adding, ‘And what about you? Happy with the changes you’ve made?’

Charlotte thought for a moment, not willing to be totally honest with her friend. ‘On the whole, yes. I’m no longer upset with Richard and, frankly, he did me a favour. I’m more in control of my life now and there’s something to be said for only having yourself to please.’ Except there was her mother… ‘With regard to my writing, once I’m back on track it will be onwards and upwards.’ She smiled at her friend.

They linked arms and continued along the path, aiming to have a snack lunch at Fermain Bay before returning to Jerbourg.

***

Andy’s mobile rang.

‘Hello, Jeanne. How are you?’

He was surprised to hear Jeanne was offering a substitute for his research. Some woman called Charlotte who was staying at La Folie. He’d met her according to Jeanne. After thanking her, he said he’d think it over. Once he’d switched off the phone, he leant back in the office chair, tapping his fingers on the desk. Although keen to find out the truth of what really happened to divide the family, Andy was wary of involving a stranger. Jeanne was fine, married to one of his best friends and a local, he could trust her implicitly. But this Charlotte – who was she? He remembered now he had met the woman, lunching with Louisa the other day. Apart from registering vaguely how attractive she was, he hadn’t paid her much attention. Just a guest of the centre. Jeanne had said she was a writer and a publisher from London who loved research. Hmm. Swinging the chair from side to side, Andy stretched out his legs in an effort to ease the stiffness from his morning run. So, Charlotte was well qualified to help with digging up facts, but was she discreet? He stood up and paced around the clinical room constituting his workspace: white walls covered in photos of finished projects and drawing boards bearing his latest plans. He couldn’t work in clutter, needing to focus on the job in hand and although there was a window, it overlooked a granite wall, offering not an iota of distraction.

What to do? Should he ask his father if he minded a stranger looking into the family history? As he pushed against a wall while stretching his legs Andy realised that was a no-no. Jim was a private person and hated talking about the family. Whenever Andy asked him why he had not pressed for his inheritance, he had become annoyed, saying he had come to an arrangement with Uncle Harold and not to interfere. Knowing any so-called arrangement had not involved much, if any, money changing hands, Andy was exasperated as well as puzzled. Something did not add up and although it was all right for his father to act as if he didn’t care about money, in reality he needed it now he was retired – meaning Andy had to help out when he could without Jim finding out. At least his mother Yvette was not too proud to accept the few pounds he handed her whenever he was round for dinner. The thing which really stuck in his craw was the knowledge that his good-for-nothing cousin Dave stood to inherit the family fortune and would no doubt blow it away on fast cars and flash holidays, assuming he was not incarcerated at the time. The unwelcome thought prompted Andy to pick up the phone.