Spring was showing off its technicoloured coat of many colours as Charlotte joined Louisa in the garden. Tulips, massed in rows of red and yellow, stood proudly with their heads opening up to the sun. Daffodils were still in evidence amongst their younger bed-mates of grape hyacinths and irises. Shrubs of viburnum and lilac scented the air. Small pockets of wisteria buds peeped from behind the shelter of green leaves criss-crossing the rear wall of the house. As the women strolled towards the gateway to the cliff path, they stopped to drink in the smells and vibrant colours assailing their senses.
‘It’s as if the garden has suddenly woken up and put on its best clothes to beguile us,’ Charlotte said, admiring the pink and white flowers of a japonica.
‘I’ve always thought spring’s the best time for gardens. And whoever planted this one knew what they were doing. My grandmother would have approved,’ Louisa said, feeling uplifted in spite of herself.
‘I don’t possess even a fraction of a green finger, but I do like gardens. Other people’s, that is.’ After walking through the gate, they linked arms and headed eastwards. For a moment they were quiet, thinking their own thoughts. Then Charlotte asked quietly, ‘Have you come to any decision? About the job?’
‘I’ll turn it down. Nicely, of course. Make up some excuse about needing to be in England, I guess. And if the man is found, I will need to go back–’
‘Yes, but not for long. It’s your decision, naturally, but if you were to stay then Paul might finally wake up to the fact that he fancies you like mad and wants you as a girlfriend. Not a work colleague.’
‘Then I’d be out of a job!’
Charlotte raised her eyebrows. ‘So? That’s not the end of the world, is it? I’m sure you could work somewhere else on the island if necessary. And who’s to say you couldn’t carry on working together? If you were happy, it wouldn’t be a problem.’
Louisa kicked at a stone on the path. ‘I know there’s some sense in what you say, but in the meantime I’d have to work with Paul while…while hiding my feelings. And if he didn’t “wake up” as you put it, I’d be worse off than I am now. It’s the thought of rejection…’ she felt tears well up and brushed them away, angry with her own weakness.
‘Hey, I understand! Don’t beat yourself up about it, Louisa. You’ve been hurt. We both have. You must do what feels right and I promise not to say any more.’ Charlotte gave her a hug and Louisa smiled. They continued on their walk, and by tacit agreement, the subject of Paul was left behind.
Louisa knew it was cowardly, but she managed to stay away from Paul that day. She planned to tell him her decision after yoga the next morning, hoping to find a suitable excuse in the meantime. That evening Malcolm was taking her to dinner at La Fregate and she was looking forward to getting away for a few hours. A soothing aromatherapy massage with Lin had helped her to feel calmer and more certain of her decision. As she changed into the smart trouser suit bought the previous week, it occurred to her that Charlotte might be able to recommend other centres, like La Folie, where she could apply for a job. The thought cheered her. Much as she would hate leaving La Folie and Paul, it would be easier if a new life beckoned.
*
Malcolm hummed to himself. He was pleased with the progress Ferguson had made and had every confidence that, before too long, Edward Blake would be traced and would prove to be the man who had attacked Susan. At this point he was not sure how that could be proved, but in his view that was a minor concern. On top of this, he had received good news from the surgeon. The fracture was healing up nicely and his blood pressure was down. He had been reminded to watch his diet and take gentle exercise, but that was something he was happy to do. As he changed his shirt for dinner, he found himself smiling at the third piece of good news of the day. Paul had phoned to say that the bookings were up, with very few spaces left over the coming months. Glowing reports had been appearing in the media; a couple of their guests had been undercover journalists, returning home to write articles praising La Folie for its “unique ambience, faultless attention to detail and the high standard of the staff”, to quote one of them. Malcolm could not be more proud. Although his hotel empire had been much bigger and sold for many millions of dollars, he felt more in tune with La Folie. He liked the thought that the guests were experiencing much more than a mere holiday. They were, according to their feedback, finding a way back to health, on all levels. Letting go outmoded and unhealthy lifestyles and becoming enriched by an inner peace. Just like himself. He never stopped feeling grateful for that chance meeting with Paul, who had opened his eyes to a whole new world. And a chance to show everyone that there was still life in the old dog yet. He grinned at his reflection in the mirror as he adjusted his tie. Paul had also mentioned that he had offered Louisa a job and hoped that Malcolm was okay with that. Of course he was okay with it! It would mean his daughter would be living nearby and they could spend as much time together as they liked. Apparently she had not yet given her answer, but Malcolm shrugged that aside. Why on earth would she say no?
‘No? You’re going to say no? But why? It’s perfect! I thought you’d be happy to stay here, so we could be closer,’ Malcolm said, staring at Louisa in disbelief. They were sitting at a table in La Fregate, waiting for their starters, and he had just told her he knew about Paul’s offer. She had gone quite pale and stammered that she was planning to say no.
Malcolm was hurt. Did she not want to be near him? Had he overestimated her affection for him?
‘It’s…it’s not that I wouldn’t like to be near you. Of course I would. But it’s…complicated. It would be so easy to stay and work at the centre, but…I need to find my own way. My working there smacks of nepotism and the other therapists might resent me–’
‘Nonsense! It’s quite normal in the hospitality business for family to work together. And you’re my family. If I say it’s okay, then to hell with anyone who thinks otherwise.’ He could feel his blood pressure rising and took a few deep breaths. Louisa lowered her head, biting her lip. She looked very unhappy, intent on pulling her bread roll to pieces. Malcolm realised he was not helping by pressurising her and softened his tone.
‘Look, my dear, I’m not trying to bully you into staying. I’m sorry if I came on too strong. I was so pleased when Paul told me about the job offer and only saw the benefit from my point of view. You, quite rightly, have to satisfy your own needs and desires. Have…have you made other plans?’
She lifted her head, her eyes suspiciously over-bright. ‘I’m looking at other centres in the UK, perhaps nearer to my aunt. But I can’t make any definite plans while this business with That Man is still unsolved. But if you need my room–’
He grabbed her hand, forcing her to stop murdering the bread roll. ‘There’s no problem with the room. You can stay as long as it takes. Although, after the call from John, I’m hopeful that it might be quite soon.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I understand that you want to get on with your life, Louisa, and I respect you for that. But I will miss you when you leave and would hope that you’ll keep in touch. Perhaps come over sometime.’
‘Of course I’ll stay in touch! And I’d be happy to see you whenever I could. My not wanting to…to take a job at La Folie is absolutely not a reflection on my feelings for you. I’ve grown quite fond of you and enjoy our time together,’ she said, managing a smile.
He was reassured. Pleased that it wasn’t because of him that she was turning down the job, he began to wonder what really lay behind her decision. Something didn’t quite add up and he wanted to know what it was. But now wasn’t the time to probe; he had to be patient. Not easy but…
*
Louisa, for the first time, was glad when the meal was over and she could scuttle back to La Folie. It had been such a shock when Malcolm announced that he was looking forward to seeing her become a new member of staff. Damn Paul! She thought, driving home. He had no right to say anything to her father before she had given him her answer. Men! Who do they think they are, making decisions for us? Her initial shock had given way to anger, seething slowly inside through what had seemed an endless meal. And Malcolm’s initial response hadn’t helped. Another man who liked to take charge – as he had with her mother all those years ago. But he had, at least, backtracked from that first reaction and they had agreed not to discuss it further. Thinking about that, she allowed her breathing to slow, letting the anger ease. It hadn’t been Malcolm’s fault; it was Paul’s. He was guilty of making her feel he was interested in having a relationship with her, and then promptly sabotaging the chance by offering her a job instead! As she pulled into the drive she remembered what her father had said about family working together. That was all well and good, she conceded, but didn’t apply to working with someone who apparently didn’t reciprocate your feelings for them. Switching off the engine, Louisa got out of the car and headed inside, hoping she could return to her room unnoticed. She was in no mood to talk to anyone. She was in luck and shut the door behind her with relief. Next stop: Paul.
At breakfast the following morning, Louisa described to Charlotte what had happened.
‘Oh dear, that’s made things a tad awkward, hasn’t it? I assume you haven’t spoken to Paul yet?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I’m planning to corner him after yoga. Malcolm agreed not to speak to him before I had the chance. I’ll have to make light of it, I suppose, as I don’t want him knowing what my true feelings are.’ She let out a groan. ‘Everything would have been fine if he hadn’t offered me the blooming job!’
Charlotte sipped her tea. ‘That’s not strictly true, is it? With your departure growing more imminent, you two would have had hardly any time to explore your feelings for each other – meaning you could have left without anything being said. I do agree Paul has messed up, but there’s no easy answer is there? If you two are meant to be together, then…’ she waved her arms like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.
Louisa could not help but smile. ‘So we leave it up to fate, do we?’
‘I didn’t say that exactly. One can always give fate a helping hand,’ Charlotte grinned. ‘Now, come on or we’ll be late. And that would not do, would it?’
Paul raised his eyebrows when they walked in and asked why she had missed the previous day’s session. Louisa had mumbled something about over-sleeping and moved off quickly. He looked puzzled but before he could say anything, was cornered by another guest asking him a question. Charlotte chose a spot further back than normal, for which Louisa was grateful.
Once the session was over, Louisa waited until the others had left before approaching Paul.
‘Um, Paul, about that offer of a job. I…I’m afraid the answer’s no. Tempting as it is, I really do need to…to be nearer my aunt. But thank you, anyway.’ She turned to go but he held onto her wrist.
‘Hey, what’s wrong? You seemed quite keen on the idea the other evening. You said how much you liked it here. Loved it, in fact.’ His eyes bored into hers and she felt a painful lump in her throat. God, it was hard to lie to him!
‘I do love it here. But that doesn’t mean it’s the right place for me to live. I…I have another life…family in England. But I’ll be coming over to see Malcolm when I can. I…I appreciate your offer, Paul. Now, I must dash as I have a session booked.’
She almost ran out of the room before he could reply. But she had time to notice the look of hurt on his face. Biting her lips, she rushed off to find Nadine to ask if any therapist was free. She was in luck, the reflexologist could slot in a half-hour if she hurried. Louisa smiled her thanks and set off. Reflexology, like massage, usually calmed her so it was a fortuitous choice. She didn’t think it would help with a breaking heart, though.
The next few days leading up to Easter were filled with a mixture of therapy sessions, swimming and walks or drives with Charlotte. Louisa wanted to spend as much time with her friend as possible, dreading her leaving on Easter Monday. It also meant that she was out a great deal, and less likely to bump into Paul. Somehow she managed to get through the yoga sessions, the benefit outweighing the heaviness in her heart. Just. On Thursday morning she and Charlotte set off on another trip to St Peter Port. The sky was a dull slate and the sun was hiding like a sulky child. They had decided a spot of browsing around the shops, followed by a visit to Victor Hugo’s house would be the perfect way to avoid any threatening rain.
‘I can hardly spend a few weeks here and not visit Hugo’s house, can I? I’m a publisher, for heaven’s sake! And I’ve heard it’s quite something: it’s been left exactly as he left it. You don’t mind going, do you?’ Charlotte asked as Louisa switched on the engine.
‘Not at all. I’d love to see it. Although I haven’t read his books, I loved Les Miserables on the stage. I am not adverse to a spot of culture, you know,’ she said, putting on a plummy accent.
Charlotte grinned. ‘Touché!’
The plan was shopping first as Hauteville House, Hugo’s old home, was not open until midday. Nadine had suggested they park near the marina while shopping and then drive up Cornet Street towards Hauteville. It proved good advice, as by the time they had explored previously missed shops and relaxed over a cappuccino, their parking clock had expired. They both agreed that free parking on Guernsey was a welcome change after London. Even if it did mean moving the car.
They found a spot a reasonable walk from Hauteville House and joined the queue gathered on the front steps of the white stuccoed house. It stood out as being foreign as the French flag flew proudly above the front door. Once inside and having obtained a tour guide, the reason for the flag became clear. The property was preserved by the City of Paris in honour of one of their most famous sons. Even the guide was French, however her English was impeccable.
Louisa and Charlotte spent most of the tour open-mouthed at the décor and furnishings. The guide informed them that both the house and garden had been designed by Hugo, who had apparently wanted a medieval, slightly Gothic look. Heavy dark oak furniture fought with painted ceilings and damask lined rooms to be noticed.
‘Wow! I hadn’t expected anything like this,’ Charlotte whispered to Louisa as they stood in a room lined with red damask and topped with a carved, decorated ceiling. ‘One tends to think of writers living in rather humble abodes, even when they were as successful as Hugo. But he obviously revelled in opulence.’ She threw her arms wide.
Louisa nodded. ‘Not only that, but according to this guide book, he kept a mistress for fifty years, and she followed him here when he was exiled from France. Even though his wife and children lived here. He sounds quite a character! I might consider reading one of his books. In English, naturally,’ she said, chuckling.
They continued upstairs, admiring the Crystal Room where Hugo wrote his books, and the glazed conservatory perched up high and offering wonderful views across from Castle Cornet and out to the islands.
‘He would have been looking out towards France whenever he was up here. It’s not that far away,’ Charlotte said, gazing out of the window. ‘Must have been strange for Hugo. He was here for fifteen years before he returned to Paris. By all accounts he fell in love with Guernsey and the people and was sad to leave.’
‘Mm. I can relate to that and I’ve only been here a few weeks!’ Louisa said, wistfully.
Charlotte grabbed her arm. ‘Come on, let’s go down to the garden before it rains. It looks nearly as lovely as La Folie’s. And don’t get maudlin! You might not have to leave. Or perhaps only for a little while.’
Louisa was not convinced but gave in to her friend. She might as well enjoy what the island had to offer while she could. And the garden did look beautiful.
They were both in reflective mood as they drove back to La Folie. Whenever Louisa glanced across at Charlotte she seemed deep in thought, as if she were miles away.
‘Penny for them,’ she said as they neared the airport.
‘Mm? Oh, my thoughts! Well, if you must know I was thinking that I’m going to make some changes when I return home. Seeing Victor Hugo’s house, with his wonderful writing room and the views, has reminded me of my old desire to write. And really, there’s no reason why I can’t do it. I could cut back my hours in the office and work more from home, freeing up time to write my own book, not just publish other people’s.’
‘That’s a great idea! What would you write? Fiction or non-fiction?’
‘Definitely fiction. I’ve been toying with an idea based on real historical characters. My degree was in history so I’m au fait with historical research. I used to love it at uni and considered staying on for my post-graduate degree. But…life got in the way,’ Charlotte said, shrugging.
‘Well, at least you could be your own publisher.’
‘Actually, I couldn’t. We only publish non-fiction. It’s a small independent publisher, founded by my grandfather. I inherited it from my father and have been fulfilling the role of editor ever since. Interesting work, but not as fulfilling as writing something myself.’ Charlotte turned to Louisa who glanced across to her. ‘Coming here has given me the chance to re-assess my options. I no longer want to be that woman who inherited a publishing company. I want to achieve something for myself. Something I can be proud of.’
Louisa smiled. ‘You show ’em, girl! Now, tell me a bit more about your idea for a novel…’
Easter Friday heralded the arrival of several new guests, bringing the centre up to full capacity. Whenever Louisa passed Nadine in reception she seemed to be either signing in new people or arranging therapy appointments. She still had time to give her a smile and a cheeky wink. Louisa smiled in return before making her way to wherever she was meant to be. In spite of the new arrivals, no part of the house was crowded and she was able to keep up her swimming. It looked as if the age range was reducing: no longer were the majority of guests in their autumn years as thirty-and forty-somethings, sporting the latest fashions and carrying designer-label bags, formed the new intake. Louisa was glad; if she were to be here for a while it would be nice to be around people more her own age. As she ploughed up and down the pool the thought of Charlotte disappearing on Monday left her feeling low. They had so much enjoyed their day together that they planned to take a trip to Sark on Sunday. Charlotte had therapies booked for Saturday and Monday and Louisa planned to spend time with Malcolm. Just as she thought about this, she spotted Charlotte talking to Malcolm outside the pool enclosure. He looked as if he was coming in for a swim when Charlotte must have spotted him. Louisa idly wondered what they were talking about before she pulled herself out of the pool. She wanted a few minutes in the steam room before continuing with her swim.
Returning, she saw Malcolm was in the pool and Charlotte had disappeared. She slipped in to join him and they paced each other for a few lengths before she left for a hot stone massage. They arranged to see each other for lunch on Saturday, Malcolm offering to pick her up and drive to a restaurant he wanted to try.
As she was about to turn into the corridor leading to the massage room, Paul appeared by her side.
‘Hi, stranger. Have you been avoiding me? Haven’t seen you around much this week.’ He gave her a searching look.
‘No, of course not. I’ve…been busy. Charlotte and I have been out and about, making the most of our time together. You know she’s leaving on Monday?’
He nodded. ‘Yes. You’ve become good friends then. I’m pleased. But I hoped that you and I could go out for a drink sometime. After the weekend, perhaps?’
‘Oh, right. Thanks. I’ll let you know. Look, I’ll be late for my massage, can we talk later? Bye.’ She sped off, glad of the excuse to get away. Why on earth did Paul want to go out for a drink? He knew she wasn’t staying on the island, so what was the point? And, more importantly, how was she going to say no?