Chapter ten

L

ouisa bit her thumb, her stomach churning from the news. How could her father behave like this? Like…like a love-struck teenager! She vaguely heard Charlotte saying something.

‘He’s what? But it’s still good news, isn’t it? You know he’s safe which is the important thing.’

‘Well yes, I suppose so. But he could have told me he was all right! I’ve been so worried…’ She grabbed her glass and swallowed deeply.

‘I’m sure he didn’t mean you to worry. Are you going to phone him? Find out a bit more about this woman he’s with?’

‘I guess. I’ll have to leave it until tomorrow morning as it’s the middle of the night there now. Oh, Charlotte, I hadn’t really thought of him meeting someone at his age.’

‘He’s not that old! Seventy’s the new fifty or something now, I believe. And he’s a very attractive man so why not? Eligible men of his age will have no shortage of interested women.’

She stared at Charlotte. ‘You don’t think this…this woman could be a gold-digger, do you? After all, Dad’s loaded.’

‘I didn’t say that. And don’t jump to conclusions until you’ve talked to Malcolm. And be happy for him. He’s been alone too long,’ Charlotte said as she stood up. ‘Time for bed. And try and sleep. At least you know nothing bad’s happened.’

Louisa nodded and climbed the stairs, convinced she would not sleep a wink. To her surprise, as soon as her head hit the pillow she fell into a deep sleep, and woke the next morning feeling better than she had for weeks.

Once she had arrived at La Folie, Louisa found Paul who had been relieved when she’d phoned the previous night with the news.

‘Good morning,’ he said before adding, with a chuckle, ‘The old devil! Told you a woman was probably involved, didn’t I?’

‘Hmm. Yes, well, I’m going to ring him now before my first appointment. I’ll catch up with you later,’ she said, giving him a quick kiss. As she slipped into the office she thought it was typical of men to see another man disappearing to make off with a woman as something to be admired. Instead of thoughtless or selfish. After dialling the number Glenn had given her, she took some deep breaths to steady herself. She simply had to stay calm…

The reception answered and she asked to be put through to Villa 6. The phone rang out for a few moments before her father’s voice came on the line.

‘Roget speaking.’

‘Hello, Dad. How are you?’

‘Louisa! How on earth…?’

She told him they’d discovered he’d missed his flight to Japan and were concerned he was okay. And Glenn had contacted the main hotels to try and find him.

‘Oh, Louisa, I’m sorry! I never thought you’d be worried about me. I said I might be out of contact–’

‘I know. But it scared me when you missed your flight. You’re my father, I’m bound to be worried.’

Malcolm was silent for a moment and she heard a female voice in the background.

‘Dad, I…I know you’re not alone. Have you…met someone?’ The catch in her voice annoyed her. She really must not sound hurt. Even though she was.

He cleared his throat. ‘Yes, I’d planned to tell you once I was sure it was serious. We met at dinner the first night I arrived. Gillian was on her own at an adjoining table and we got talking and finished up eating together.’ His voice grew warmer and Louisa imagined him looking fondly at “Gillian” and stifled a pang of jealousy. ‘We spent a lot of time together and then, instead of heading off to Japan, I decided to stay and we moved to this new place as a…couple. I guess I should have let you know I’d moved, darling. I can see now how worrying it must have been for you. Can you forgive me?’

‘I suppose. Paul’s been concerned too, you know. The centre’s been so busy and not knowing if you were…were all right, added to the pressure.’

‘Sounds like I’ve been a pretty selfish bastard, haven’t I? I’ll make it up to you both when I get home, I promise.’

‘And when will that be?’ Louisa asked, feeling like the parent instead of the child.

‘A couple of weeks, I reckon, although we haven’t booked our flights yet. But you’ll be the first to know.’

‘Good. So, are you going to tell me more about Gillian?’

‘Sure. She’s a widow and a semi-retired naturopathic doctor and I know you two will get on like the proverbial house on fire. You’ve a lot in common, Gillian’s not only an advocate for natural health but also a passionate swimmer.’ He paused. ‘Look, would you like to say hello? I’ve told her all about you and she’s dying to meet you when we get back.’

Put on the spot, Louisa could only agree. There was the sound of muffled whispers in the background before a woman’s voice cut in.

‘Hello, Louisa. I’m Gillian and I want to start by saying how cross I am with your father. He assured me you were not expecting to hear from him until his return and if I’d known the truth I’d have insisted he phone. You must have been so worried, you poor girl! My son insists I ring him every week while I’m away so I can sympathise with you. I do hope you won’t hold this against me as I so want us to be friends.’ Gillian’s warm, melodious voice echoed down the line. Louisa felt her hurt recede.

They chatted for a few more minutes before Malcolm came back on the line to say his goodbye, and offering to ring as soon as the flights were booked. Louisa clicked off the phone feeling a great deal happier than she had before the call. Checking her watch she saw she would need to hurry for her first appointment and left the office with such a bright smile Nadine gave her a quizzical look.

***

Charlotte, meanwhile, was ploughing her way through the occupation files in the archives. Most of the material referred to the day-to-day administration of the island, covering reports of minor offences and requisitioning of food from the island reserves. Pretty tedious stuff, she thought, wondering what had possessed her to undertake the task. Then she thought of Andy and his kiss. Telling herself not to be silly, it was only a friendly kiss, she turned back to the papers in front of her. Somewhere amongst the banal must be a reference to the islanders who informed on their neighbours. It appeared hundreds of people were arrested for breaking German laws and she guessed many were caught after being snitched on by neighbours with a grudge.

Deciding to widen her search, Charlotte asked to see the files of The Controlling Committee of the States of Guernsey and other Guernsey documents covering the occupation and the immediate aftermath. She was shocked to read of the hundreds of prisoners deported to prisoner of war camps or prisons in Germany or occupied France, some of whom never returned, even though they had not committed grave offences. Reading the reports opened her eyes to the full impact on the island of being occupied by enemy soldiers and how embedded it was in the psyche of the locals more than sixty years later. She was about to call it a day when a police report caught her eye and she read on with renewed interest.

That evening Charlotte listened as Louisa described what Malcolm had said during their call and her brief conversation with Gillian.

‘So, how are you feeling about the new woman in his life? Any happier?’ Charlotte asked as they prepared supper.

Louisa sighed. ‘A bit. I’m okay about meeting her, for sure. But I guess I’m scared of being pushed into second place in Dad’s affections. After all, we’ve only known each other for six months,’ she said, fiddling with the fillets of plaice.

‘I can’t see Malcolm pushing you anywhere. You’re his only flesh and blood, important to a man like him. And he’s only known this woman two minutes! What did Paul have to say?’

Louisa told her, adding Malcolm had since rung Paul to apologise for not being in contact and he would definitely be back in two weeks. ‘Which is great, as Paul and I want to get away for a long weekend before the weather turns. Dad apparently said he’d help out if we went away so that’s something to look forward to.’ She served up the food, asking, ‘And how was your day?’

‘Not bad. Although I still haven’t come across any evidence of named informers, I did find the police report about Edmund’s death, which is a result of sorts.’

‘Sure. What did it say?’

‘Not a huge amount, but it did confirm no-one was ever charged and the only suspect was an escaped POW who was shot later by the Germans. The police must have assumed he was the killer as they stopped looking for anyone else. It’s rather inconclusive, but what was more interesting was nothing was said in the report about Edmund being a suspected informer. And surely the police would have known if it was true,’ Charlotte said, feeling again the frisson of excitement she had experienced in the archives. ‘When I phoned Andy to tell him, he agreed with me, saying he thought it was a significant breakthrough. What do you think, Louisa?’

‘I agree, it sounds promising. Well done! I’m not surprised Andy sees it as progress. Talking of which, did he mention your night out?’

‘Yes, he said he’s booked Le Petit Bistro, in the Pollet for Friday. Do you know it?’

‘Yep, Paul and I went a few weeks ago. Has a great buzz, you’ll enjoy it. Not long now, eh?’ Louisa said, with a cheeky grin.

Charlotte smiled, but inside she still had her doubts about the proposed dinner. If it could be purely business, then fine. Otherwise…But she was pleased by what she had read, or rather, not read in the police file. Perhaps they would yet find the truth about why poor Edmund was killed. And by whom.

***

Andy drew up at Louisa’s house on Friday evening wondering what he had got himself into. It had seemed a good idea to invite Charlotte out to dinner as, after all, she was giving up her valuable time to help him. And he desperately wanted to get to the bottom of the family’s division and why his father wasn’t now living in Harold’s house as was his right. But was this solely a means of thanking her or a real date? He sat in the car for a moment, questioning his motives.

Yes, he did want to show his appreciation – particularly after her find in the archives – and, yes he did find her attractive. More than attractive. But someone who, he guessed, was out of his league. Posh voice, posh clothes and able to afford to stay at La Folie. Twice. And there was he, admittedly an up-and-coming architect, but of modest means. On the plus side, on accepting his invite, Charlotte had bestowed on him a warm smile which had lit up her lovely green eyes. Oh, sod it! I’ll just see what happens, he thought, getting out of the car.

Charlotte opened the front door and for a moment he was lost for words. She looked stunning in a deep red dress which clung to her curves and emphasised her long, shapely legs.

Swallowing, he managed to say, ‘Hi. You look…amazing, that colour really suits you,’ before kissing her on both cheeks.

‘Why thank you, kind sir! And you don’t look too bad yourself. I do love that shade of blue on a man,’ she said, nodding at his shirt. The previous day Andy had checked his wardrobe and was so ashamed of the state of his shirts he had rushed out to buy new ones. Now, warmed by Charlotte’s dazzling smile, he was glad he’d made the effort.

He opened the car door for her before sliding into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.

‘Hungry?’ he asked, glancing at her profile.

‘Yes, I only had a sandwich for lunch. Louisa warned me the servings were generous so I’ve left plenty of room,’ she said, releasing a throaty laugh as she patted her stomach. Her laugh was so sexy!

‘Good. Let’s go.’

In less than five minutes they were parked in Le Truchot, lucky to find a space on a Friday night and only yards from Le Petit Bistro. Andy steered Charlotte towards the restaurant, its presence advertised by the hum of music and laughter. As he opened the door and ushered her inside, they were embraced by a cheerful wall of sound. A waitress rushed up, menus in hand, and guided them to a small table near the back of the room, took their wine order and left them to peruse the menus.

Charlotte gazed around and remarked, ‘It’s so French, isn’t it? It reminds me of bistros in Paris, a feast for the eye as well as the stomach. Love the stained glass panels and the French signs.’ Her eyes twinkled as they swept over the restaurant. ‘I take it you’ve been here before?’

‘It’s one of my favourites. I’ve had many a business lunch here.’

Her eyebrows arched.

‘Oh, does this count as a business dinner?’

Andy shifted in his chair as the point hit home.

‘Not exactly. Sort of half and half–’

‘I’m teasing! Which wasn’t fair of me. Ah, our wine.’ Charlotte smiled at the waitress as she set down a bottle of St Emilion and a carafe of water.

After raising their glasses in salute, they sipped their wine.

‘Lovely! A good choice, Andy.’ Charlotte picked up her menu. ‘Now, what shall I choose? Can you recommend something?’

Andy went through the choices, glad she wanted his input and conscious of her desire to put him at ease. It was years since he’d dated and he’d felt out of the game when he hit forty last year. But this woman re-kindled the desire to become close to someone again, though he knew she was recently divorced and might not be interested in a relationship…

Once they had placed their order Andy asked how the research was going since she had found the police file concerning Edmund’s death.

Charlotte frowned. ‘I’ve found references to the existence of collaborators but so far haven’t found names mentioned, by either the Germans or the local government. I’ll keep looking, but…’ she shrugged. After taking a sip of her wine she added, ‘It might be time to consider talking to people still alive, preferably anyone who lived in St Martins. Word would have got around if someone was snitching on neighbours, surely?’

Andy was finding it hard to concentrate on what she was saying; she was so attractive. ‘Mm, you’d think so,’ he replied, bringing his mind back to the conversation and trying to think of the best way forward. ‘Parish records would help. You should be able to find the names of those still around who would remember the war. That generation didn’t move around much, tending to live in the same parish all their lives. You could contact the rector for potential interviewees for your “research”.’ Andy paused, struck by an idea. ‘How about asking Jeanne what she wants to know for her own book? Then you’ll be a genuine researcher!’ He grinned broadly.

‘What a brilliant idea! I wouldn’t be lying to the rector then, thank goodness. Which would have made me very uncomfortable. I can’t wait to get started.’ Charlotte’s eyes gleamed with pleasure and Andy was hooked. She looked radiant and oh so sexy in that dress! He was going to find it hard to separate business from pleasure…

The food arrived, providing a welcome diversion from his erotic thoughts. For a few moments they concentrated on eating before Andy asked about her own family. Tears, quickly wiped away, appeared when she told him about her father’s death and then went on to mention her mother had been ill. He gripped her hand in sympathy.

‘I’m sorry, you’ve had a rough time, haven’t you? I shouldn’t be bothering you with my family’s problems.’

Charlotte shook her head. ‘Don’t be silly. It’s proving to be good therapy for me. Saves me thinking too much,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘I do miss Daddy dreadfully, as we were particularly close, but my relationship with Mother is…strained. I love her because she’s my mother but don’t really like her much, if that doesn’t sound too awful. How about you? Do you and your mother have a good relationship?’

‘Yes. French mothers are renowned for being super strict with their kids, but mine was much more laid back. Perhaps it would have been different if I’d been brought up in France. My French grandmother’s a bit scary!’ he said, laughing.

‘My maternal grandmother was too, so we have something in common.’ She speared a piece of lamb before asking, ‘Do you speak French? I can imagine how useful it would be here with such a strong French influence.’

‘I do. As Dad was bought up in France he was bilingual from the word go and he and Mum often chat in French at home so it was natural for me to learn. I can’t speak the local patois, though. And you? I know you speak German.’

‘I studied French and German at A level, along with English and kept them up at uni but I’m not terribly fluent. But enough to translate documents and menus!’ she said, smiling.

‘Being bilingual was a plus at school as French, naturally, was one of my strong subjects and I always got top marks. The other boys thought I had an unfair advantage and didn’t like me for it,’ Andy said, the memory of school causing him to frown.

‘You weren’t happy at school?’ Charlotte asked, head on one side.

‘Junior school was fine, but secondary…Not really. Felt like a fish out of water. You see, I was a scholarship boy. After achieving top marks in the eleven-plus, I was awarded a place at Elizabeth College, the private boys school. I’d rather have gone to the grammar with my friends, but my parents thought it was too good an opportunity to turn down. But it wasn’t easy coming from a relatively poor family and mixing with the sons of the wealthy.’

‘Oh, I can imagine. Did you not have any friends?’ She frowned.

‘How can you imagine what it was like? You must have gone to a posh school yourself,’ he said sharply.

‘I did, as you say, go to a posh school. But a few girls were admitted on bursaries, like yourself, and I became friends with one of them. We got on extremely well and she confided in me about how hard it was going back home in the holidays and being ignored by the friends she used to have before she boarded. So I do have some idea of what it must have been like for you,’ she said, looking him in the eye.

He felt wrong-footed. ‘Sorry, it…it was presumptuous of me. I did have a couple of friends at College, but it wasn’t the best of times. I was happy to get away to university.’ He grinned. ‘What’s funny is some of those boys who ignored me back then have become my clients since, so I guess being a poor local lad has paid off!’

After a noticeable coolness in Charlotte’s responses, Andy was able to steer the conversation into the safer waters of hobbies and interests. He sensed she had become reluctant to say too much about her background, briefly mentioning the family home was in Somerset and wondered if it was to do with their disparate backgrounds. Apart from that they seemed to share similar interests such as books and films and as the meal progressed Charlotte seemed to thaw a little and he was glad he hadn’t bottled it. As he dropped her back at Louisa’s he asked what she was doing at the weekend.

‘I haven’t anything planned. If the weather holds thought I might pop over to Herm as I haven’t been over yet.’

‘Sounds good. Would you like a lift? I can borrow Dad’s boat and show you round if you like.’

‘I…I’m not sure. Wouldn’t it be taking up a good part of your weekend?’ Charlotte’s smile looked hesitant and he wondered if he’d been too quick to suggest such a trip. He hadn’t planned to ask her out again so soon but now he had, he could hardly back out. Perhaps it would be better if she said no and they could go back to being acquaintances. He had messed up earlier…

‘No, it’s okay, I love any excuse to go over to Herm. It’s such a great place to relax,’ Andy said trying to sound convincing.

‘In that case I would like to accept.’ This time Charlotte’s smile lit up her face.

He said he’d need to check the times of the tides before making firm arrangements and would phone her. They stood in the doorway while Charlotte fished out the key from her handbag.

‘Right, I’ll say goodnight. See you tomorrow,’ Andy said, before pulling her towards him and kissing her on both cheeks. Pulling back, Charlotte smiled and said, ‘Goodnight, Andy, and thanks for a lovely evening.’ She opened the door and waved as he returned to his car. Driving off, he told himself he was a fool and wondered what kind of day he had let himself in for.