Fortunately for Louisa, Paul was tied up with new guests after yoga and she was able to slip away, accompanied by a grinning Charlotte, without having to talk to him.
‘That was lucky! But you’re going to have to speak to him sometime. The man’s asked you out and it’s rude to keep him waiting,’ Charlotte said, trying to sound severe.
‘I know, I know. But he did say not until after the weekend so…’ she said, trying to make excuses for herself.
‘Okay. I’m off, catch you later, right? Have a nice lunch with your father.’
Charlotte walked away and Louisa returned to her room to change. She planned to swim then take a cliff walk before lunch. The concentrated exercise was paying off. She was no longer as depressed as when she arrived, although the thought of Paul threatened her peace of mind. Charlotte had agreed to give her a list of health centres to approach once she was back in London. It was time to move on.
Malcolm took them along winding roads into the hinterland of the west coast. ‘I’ve heard about a quaint old place in St Saviours with a good restaurant that grows a lot of herbs and vegetables. Thought it might be fun to check out. The gardens are lovely, I’m told, and surrounded by woods.’
‘Sounds good. Are you working your way around all the island eateries? In the name of research?’
Malcolm chuckled. ‘It’s a nice idea but might not be approved of by my doctor. But it’s good to see what’s on offer locally, while exploring the island. And it’s a lot more fun with company,’ he said, patting her hand.
He steered the car around a steep bend and pulled into the car park. Louisa saw that the sign over the front door, Auberge du Val, was nearly obliterated by the foliage covering the facade. Malcolm took the last parking place, commenting that it was lucky he had booked.
Although tables were set out in the garden, Malcolm admitted that he preferred to eat inside and they were shown to a table in the beamed restaurant. After choosing their food they slipped into an easy conversation and the time passed pleasantly. They both commented on how good the food was and, once they finished, went out to the garden to admire the herbs.
‘This is how I see it developing at La Folie,’ Malcolm said as they walked around the garden. ‘As I told you, I want to grow our own herbs as well as vegetables and I’m planning to build a small greenhouse for less hardy specimens. It’ll take time to be as established as this one is, but worth it, don’t you think?’
‘Yes. The more home-grown produce the better. Particularly as it’s organic. Chef seems pretty dedicated to providing the best ingredients; he told us he won’t use anything that isn’t organic. Probably why the food tastes so fantastic. Charlotte was particularly impressed and plans to spread the word when she’s back home,’ she replied, sneakily rubbing lavender stalks through her hands.
Malcolm nodded, looking pleased, before continuing his walk.
After being dropped off at La Folie, Louisa went in search of Paul. She could put it off no longer. She found him in his office and it was hard meeting those smiling blue eyes with her own.
‘Louisa! Did you have a good lunch with Malc?’ Paul looked so pleased to see her that her heart sank.
‘Yes, thanks. It…was great. Paul, about that offer of a drink. I…I think it’s better if I say no. I’ll be leaving any day now and we might not meet again for ages. If at all, so…’ she trailed off, not sure what more to say.
He frowned. ‘I see. Are you saying we can’t be friends? I got the impression we hit it off, but if I was wrong–’
‘It’s not that I don’t like you, Paul. But it’s clear there can’t be anything between us so…’ she shrugged, knowing she was digging herself into a bigger hole with every word.
Paul looked as if he was about to reply when the phone rang and his attention shifted. Cowardly, she took the opportunity to mouth ‘sorry’, and left. Right, you’ve burnt your bridges now, girl. He’ll be glad to see the back of you. The thoughts whirled around her head as she sought the safety of her room. Needing a diversion, she rang her aunt for a lengthy chat.
As the ferry to Sark was at ten on Sunday morning, Louisa and Charlotte were obliged to skip yoga, enabling time for a leisurely breakfast. Louisa was happy not having to face Paul.
The weather was perfect. Hot for April and it looked set to stay sunny all day. They joined a happy throng of day-trippers queuing for the ferry at White Rock and waited patiently until they were allowed to embark. While most of the passengers went inside, Louisa and Charlotte stayed on deck, keen not to miss anything.
‘This is fun! It’s been ages since I took a boat trip and felt the sea breeze on my face. We should finish the day with glowing cheeks,’ Charlotte said, lifting her face towards the sun, eyes closed.
‘Good thing we packed the sun-cream then! I’ll have to watch it or my dratted freckles will come out in their thousands,’ Louisa replied, sighing. She reached into her bag for the high-factor sun block.
‘There’s nothing wrong with freckles. Some of my friends have them and their menfolk think they’re cute, so there.’ Charlotte opened her eyes as the boat moved out of the harbour and past Castle Cornet. ‘Isn’t this view to die for? I do think one gets a different perspective looking back on a place, don’t you? We’ve been up and down those little streets of St Peter Port a few times and thought we knew it. But now we can see the whole picture and it looks so…so much more than streets full of shops. And so steep!’ They both gazed back towards the harbour and the buildings now facing them. A mixture of white, cream and granite, they rose up from the seafront; a mass of windows glinting in the sun.
‘It’s as if we’re the ones being observed. All those windows are like eyes!’ exclaimed Charlotte.
‘Mm. It’s quite something, seeing the town rising up in tiers towards those towers on the skyline. I wonder what they are? Look, now we’re pulling away, you can see the cliff walk leading to the bluebell woods. And over there…’ Louisa continued pointing out places they had visited, Charlotte vying to compete with her own choices.
Within moments the town was left behind and, with one accord, they turned to face their destination.
‘It looks so far away! No wonder it will take about an hour to reach it. That tiny island of Herm is just a skip and a jump away by comparison. Looks pretty, too. Still, I’m told Sark is also lovely and we’ll be able to cycle around it. Something I wouldn’t consider trying in London, for sure! Mind you, I don’t want to cycle for five hours. We’ll need to find other ways to amuse ourselves that aren’t as energetic,’ Louisa said, taking in the island her Guernsey friends seemed to think was magical. Thinking of them made her wonder if she would bump into Jeanne and Nick in Sark.
‘No problem. If all else fails we’ll retreat to one of the pubs and sink a bottle or two. It’s my last full day and I intend to make the most of it,’ Charlotte said, throwing out her arms, as if to embrace all and everyone around.
Louisa grinned. ‘A bottle or two will play havoc with your avowed intent to keep to Chef’s diet plan. And you’re looking so fab, Charlotte. You must have lost a few more pounds this past week.’
‘Why, thank you, kind lady! I lost five pounds and my clothes fit much better now. Chef didn’t say I had to avoid alcohol, just drink in moderation. I’ll drink plenty of water and the cycling will help. Um, it’s becoming a little chilly now. Shall we go below decks?’
They settled themselves on window seats for the remainder of the journey. Small motor cruisers and speed boats rode the waves around the ferry, all heading towards Sark. Louisa and Charlotte chatted quietly amidst the hub of their fellow passengers. Small children ran around excitedly, until their parents finally called a halt, settling them on their laps with picture books. The ferry’s engine slowed as they approached the harbour, distinguished by a high granite and concrete wall, offering protection and shelter to the few boats at anchor. The boat moored alongside granite steps and the crew gave a hand to the disembarking passengers. Parents, collecting their respective children and bags, strode off, talking excitedly about their plans for the day. Louisa and Charlotte followed, keeping clear of the crab and lobster pots piled on the wall’s edge. The way out was through a short tunnel cut into the granite cliff. Louisa clutched a copy of a short guide to Sark, which informed her that the steep hill ahead was the only route up to the village centre and the rest of the island. Awaiting them was a tractor bus, known locally as the “toast rack”, according to the guide.
The choice being either to walk or take the bus, the two of them decided the bus might be quicker. Possibly. It was simply comprised of a tractor pulling an open-sided cart lined with rows of basic seats.
Charlotte grinned. ‘This will be a new experience! We can walk down on the way back. That’s if our legs are still functioning after cycling around the island.’
Once the bus was full, the tractor began its slow progress up the kilometre of hill. They passed a number of fellow travellers making their way towards the adjoining woodland path. Colour abounded: primroses, thrift, bluebells and wild garlic jostled for space on the grassy banks and the trees showed off their new leaves. Although the ride was bumpy, there was plenty to admire, breathing in the heady scents wafting on the slight breeze.
Once at the top, they found themselves at the start of the island village. Dirt roads, lined with painted buildings reminiscent of a bygone age, led off in different directions. After collecting their cycles they set off along what was grandly named The Avenue. Their destination was Little Sark, an even smaller island at the opposite end of big Sark, connected by a narrow isthmus, known as La Coupee. They had booked a table for lunch at La Sablonnerie Hotel, suggested to them by Malcolm. Apparently no hotel or restaurant was off his radar.
‘This is heavenly. I can’t believe how peaceful it is after the arrival of so many people. And it makes Guernsey seem positively hectic in comparison,’ Louisa remarked, as they cycled along quiet country lanes bordered by open fields. Blackthorn and hawthorn blossom added colour to the hedgerows.
‘You’re right. I haven’t cycled in England since I was a child, the roads became so clogged. And London…! Well. But I’m enjoying this. Thanks for suggesting we came here.’
They passed a few walkers and a horse-drawn carriage full of excited tourists on the way, but by way of “traffic” it was minimal. Charlotte remarked on the absence of noise. All that could be heard was the cawing of seabirds wheeling overhead.
‘It looks as if we’re heading for the ends of the Earth,’ said Louisa, giggling. They were approaching La Coupee, freewheeling down a slight hill. ‘Let’s stop for a proper look before we go over.’
Leaning their cycles against the railings, they looked down from their eighty metre high vantage point.
‘Wow! What a view!’ exclaimed Louisa, taking in not only the small bay beneath her, but various rocky outcrops and, in the distance, Guernsey.
‘It’s very pretty, isn’t it? And there’s an aroma of coconut coming from somewhere,’ said Charlotte, sniffing the air.
‘I think it must be from the yellow gorse flowers. See? There’s loads round here. Oh, and look! I think those are puffins.’ She pointed to some black and white birds clinging to the cliff face beneath them.
After spending a few minutes absorbing the sights and smells surrounding them, they pushed their bikes across La Coupee, sharing greetings with a family coming the other way. The hotel was roughly in the centre of Little Sark, and it was not long before they wheeled their bikes into the courtyard.
The restaurant buzzed. Families were out in force for their Easter Sunday lunch and it had been a good idea to book. They were shown to their table by a smiling waitress and left to peruse the menus. The white painted granite walls helped the room to feel cool after the heat of the sun. Louisa looked around at the deep red furnishings against the dark wood of the furniture.
‘Very olde worlde! But cosy. I feel as if I’ve stepped into another age, don’t you?’
Charlotte looked up from her menu and smiled. ‘A bit. But the whole island seems as if it’s stuck in a time warp. Which is no bad thing, in my book. There’s too much rushing around these days. I’m really looking forward to working from home more when I start my writing. But research comes first, which means visits to the British Library. Once I’ve restructured my work in the office, I’ll be raring to go.’ She rubbed her hands together, looking like a child anticipating Christmas.
They ordered a bottle of chilled Pinot Grigio to accompany their roasted sea scallops and fresh local vegetables. And a jug of water to keep them hydrated. They finished the meal with a light crème brûlée topped with assorted fruit.
‘That was delicious! Your father knows a good restaurant when he sees one. Please do thank him for me if I don’t happen to see him before I leave.’
‘Of course,’ Louisa said, sipping her wine. So far it had been a perfect day and she was falling in love with Sark the way she had with Guernsey. Paradoxically, it wasn’t entirely a good feeling. In days she was likely to be heading back to England and a new, unknown life, leaving these islands behind for the foreseeable future. Possibly only returning briefly to see her father. She felt a sense of loss; whether for the place or a particular person, she didn’t allow herself to dwell.
‘You all right, Louisa? For a moment there you looked so sad…’ Charlotte said, touching her hand.
‘Oh, it’s me being silly. I’m going to miss Guernsey, and Sark is lovely and…and there’s Paul.’ She took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in her throat.
‘Hey, there’s still a chance it will work out with Paul. It’s not as if you have no connections here. You’ll be back to see Malcolm, and Paul will be around too. Think of it as a slight delay in getting together. If you don’t have to start a new job straight away, why not return once you’ve identified the burglar? Assuming there is enough evidence to charge him, of course.’
Louisa frowned. ‘I don’t need to get a job immediately as I have an income from the business, but I feel uncomfortable doing nothing. Mum worked hard all her life and she expected me to do the same. Which is fine by me; I love my work.’ She bit her thumb. ‘There might be a problem with evidence against That Man. No prints or DNA were found at Mum’s, so even if I can identify him, that wouldn’t be enough. Not according to the detective. We have to find something else that puts him at the scene.’ Louisa sighed, wishing once again that it was all a horrible nightmare: she would wake up to find everything was as it used to be, her mother still alive.
‘Oh, Louisa, that’s tough. But I’m sure Malcolm and the detective won’t stop until the guilty man is brought to justice. The bottom line is you might need to be in London for a while. Is that what bothers you?’
‘Yes, I guess. You know, “out of sight, out of mind” and all that. Paul could well have forgotten me if I’m away for weeks. Or worse, months.’
‘If he did, then he wasn’t right for you. Have faith! Now,’ she added briskly, ‘come on and let’s stop being maudlin and enjoy ourselves. We’re on a heavenly island, the sun’s shining and I want to make the most of it. Back to the grindstone for me on Tuesday,’ Charlotte said, pulling a face.
After they paid the bill, they were on the way outside when a voice called out ‘Louisa! Over here!’
She turned round to see a couple in the corner behind where she had been sitting.
‘Hi Jeanne, Nick. How nice to see you,’ Louisa said, walking back, Charlotte by her side.
Next to Jeanne was a high chair holding a dark-haired, grinning little boy with food smeared over his face. ‘This must be Harry. Isn’t he like you, Nick?’ Louisa smiled, before introducing Charlotte to the couple.
‘I didn’t recognise you from the back,’ explained Jeanne. ‘It’s good to see you. I didn’t think you were coming over. Is Paul working?’
‘Yes, I…I think so. Charlotte is going home tomorrow and I will be leaving soon, so we thought it would be a good opportunity to see Sark. Are you having a good weekend?’
Nick’s broad smile said it all. ‘Great, thanks. It’s been fun introducing this little guy to cycling. He’s taken to it like a duck to water, hasn’t he, darling?’
Jeanne laughed. ‘Yes. He keeps shouting out more, more, when we go downhill. A bit of a speed fiend, is Harry.’ She popped a kiss on his head before cleaning his face with a wet wipe. ‘Look, we were about to go outside for our coffee so that Harry can run around a bit. How about joining us?’
Louisa checked with Charlotte who was happy to agree and they found a table in the garden. Not having had coffee, they ordered theirs with the others. Nick took Harry off to the lawn to play.
The girls chatted while waiting for their drinks and when it came out that Jeanne was an author, she and Charlotte fell into an animated discussion about books and publishing. Nick returned with Harry and sat next to Louisa.
‘Will he let me hold him?’ she asked Nick, looking at Harry.
‘Sure. Come on, Harry, say hello to the nice lady.’
Harry gazed solemnly at her, his dark blue eyes taking her in. Then a smile lit up his face and he reached out his arms. Louisa lifted him onto her lap and said hello.
Harry mumbled ‘’ello’ before using his fingers to explore her face. ‘He’s lovely, Nick. Do you want another boy or a girl next time?’
‘Don’t mind. But a girl would be nice for Jeanne. Every woman wants a daughter, don’t they?’
‘I guess. I haven’t thought that far ahead. Need to find a partner first!’
Nick frowned. ‘I thought that you and Paul…’
She shook her head. ‘No, we…we’re just friends. We haven’t been out together, apart from that night we met you and the others. I have to return to England soon so…’ she shrugged.
‘Odd. I could have sworn Paul told me the evening we met that you were staying on. And he hoped to be seeing a lot more of you. As in, he fancied you.’ Nick’s forehead was creased in thought. ‘Sorry, must have got my wires crossed. No harm done, I hope?’
Louisa felt light-headed. ‘No, no of course not.’