Somehow Louisa managed to keep up a conversation with her new friends. It helped that Charlotte and Jeanne had so much to talk about that they did not appear to notice that Louisa said little. Nick, after finishing his coffee, took his son off to run around the garden. Eventually Louisa announced that if she and Charlotte wanted to see more of Sark, they needed to leave.
Goodbyes were shared and Louisa and Charlotte retrieved their bikes to head back over La Coupee. The others were remaining to explore Little Sark. Once back at the point where they needed to dismount, Louisa told her friend what Nick had said.
Charlotte’s eyes opened wide. ‘Now that is interesting! I told you Paul was keen on you. But then he realised that by offering you a job it might complicate a relationship. Soooo, what are you going to do, now?’
‘What can I do? It’s up to Paul to say something. I’m not supposed to know how he feels. That’s assuming Nick got it right. You know what men are like for not listening properly.’
‘Ah, that’s only when a woman is talking to them. When it’s a man, they’re all ears. No, I think we can safely assume Nick is telling you the truth. But, as to what you can do, I’m not sure. Remember what I said earlier. It might be that you two don’t get together just yet, but it now looks even more likely that you will. One day.’
Louisa hoped her friend was right and she smiled, determined to enjoy the rest of their trip.
They managed to take a brief look at a few of the sights, including La Seigneurie, the manor house belonging to the Seigneur, the ‘feudal owner’ of Sark. Until a few months previously, the island had been the last feudal state in Europe. Now it possessed a more democratic government.
With a total area of two square miles, it did not take long to cycle from one point to another and they just had time to explore the quaint shops in The Avenue before returning the bikes to the hire shop. Then it was time to walk down to Maseline Harbour to catch the ferry. The woodland walk proved a fitting end to their stay, scented flowers accompanying their downward steps. The both agreed it was an improvement on the bus.
Sitting on the harbour wall, Charlotte stretched her arms. ‘What a day! A brilliant end to my time here. Can’t wait for my next trip, hopefully in September. You’ve enjoyed yourself, haven’t you? And not too many new freckles,’ she said with a smile.
Louisa’s hands went automatically up to her face. ‘I did pile on the sun-cream, but I think I still caught the sun. It’s been a wonderful day, yes. Thanks for everything, Charlotte. I’m going to miss having you around.’
‘I’ll miss you as well. You made it much more fun for me, I was becoming too much of a hermit before you arrived. When you get back to London, give me a ring and we can meet up. And I will want to know the latest news from your detective. And any other, er, interesting developments,’ she said, raising an eyebrow.
‘Hmm, I doubt there’ll be anything else to report, but I’d love to see you.’
They watched as the ferry manoeuvred its way to the harbour steps. There only looked to be a few passengers arriving, while there was a long queue to depart.
‘It’s odd, but for the first time ever, I’m not mad about returning home. Usually, whenever I’ve been away on holiday, I can’t wait to get back and stuck into work. But this time, it’s going to be a wrench. The islands have seduced me. Or perhaps it’s that stuff they put in our juice at La Folie!’ Charlotte said, smiling.
Louisa grinned at her friend. ‘Maybe. But remember you’ve got a book to write and I’ll be rooting for you. It’s the beginning of an exciting new chapter in your life. If you’ll excuse the pun!’ Laughing, they dropped down from their perch to join the queue.
As Louisa drove her friend to the airport the following afternoon they were both quiet. Charlotte insisted that Louisa not wait around so, after a hug, they parted and Louisa returned to La Folie, feeling empty inside. She had always hated goodbyes, particularly if she was the one left behind. Giving herself a talking-to, Louisa reminded herself she would be seeing Charlotte again soon and, in the meantime, could spend time with Malcolm. In fact she was spending that evening with him. He had invited her to a jazz concert at St James Hall in St Peter Port, preceded by dinner in town. She was looking forward to it, aware that she had not spent much time with him the past week. Not that Malcolm had complained. He wore his independence on his sleeve, always reiterating that he was used to going it alone. Driving back now, Louisa felt how sad that was and determined to play a bigger role in his life. It would not be a hardship, he was good company with plenty of stories to tell.
With a couple of hours to kill before Malcolm collected her, Louisa headed for the pool. As she counted the lengths, her mind flitted to the problem of Paul. What to do? She and Charlotte had attended the yoga class that morning and it was the first time she had seen Paul since turning him down for a drink. And finding out that he did fancy her after all. She had not known how to react to him, but Charlotte had taken over, gushing to him how much she had enjoyed the yoga and how much she would look forward to returning. Paul had tried to catch Louisa’s eye when there was a brief break in Charlotte’s flow, but she had pretended not to notice. Oh, God, I’m such a coward! And I won’t have Charlotte here to help me now, so I’ll have to speak to him. Although what is there to say? “Oh, hi Paul, I hear you really fancy me. So, shall we go out on a date?” The thought caused her to choke on a mouthful of water, and she had to lean onto the side of the pool until the coughing stopped. Waving away an assistant who had come to see if she was all right, Louisa carried on with her swim. She would think about Paul later.
‘Right, where are we going on our magical mystery restaurant tour?’ Louisa asked, grinning. Malcolm had just started the engine and turned to face her, laughing.
‘Somewhere you’ll like, I promise. It’s a hotel around the corner from St James and I stayed there when I first came to Guernsey, checking out La Folie. We’ll only have time for a main course so it’s ideal.’
The car purred down the drive and Louisa relaxed into the leather seat, looking forward to good food and jazz. She had been to a few jazz sessions in pubs with friends, but never to a concert with top notch artists. Malcolm assured her she was in for a treat, having heard this quartet play at a major festival. As they made their way into St Peter Port she told him how much she and Charlotte had enjoyed Sark.
‘And you were spot on with that restaurant. We had a lovely meal and even met a couple Paul had introduced me to the other evening. They were there for the weekend and looked pretty chilled. But that’s what seems to happen in the islands. Not exactly like the Mediterranean countries, but there does seem to be a sense of mañana here. Guess there might be a downside to it.’
Malcolm chuckled. ‘There sure is, when you’re trying to get a property renovated and opened on time! It was lucky a lot of the work went on in the winter or the builders might have been tempted to hop in their boats and go sailing. The guys worked incredibly hard when on site, but they didn’t quite agree with my sense of urgency.’ He glanced towards her. ‘Sounds like you’re enjoying the lifestyle. Could do a lot worse.’
She gave a non-committal grunt, not wanting to get drawn into an argument about her taking the job. It seemed that her father felt the same, as he promptly changed the subject to the less controversial one of her taste in music.
The next morning found the island covered in a light mist. As Louisa threw back the bedroom curtains she could see little beyond the garden. She shivered, although not from cold. There was an eeriness about the mist that she found unsettling. After the bright sunshine of the past few days it felt as if she had woken up in another world. One not as friendly. She knew it was silly, but she could not shake off an air of foreboding. The only thing she really dreaded at this point was confronting Paul at yoga without Charlotte at her side. It was lucky for her friend that she had left yesterday; the mist would prevent flights until it lifted.
Feeling low, Louisa stood under the shower, hoping the hot water would wash away her negative thoughts. It was partly successful: by the time she pulled on her leggings and T-shirt her mood had lifted enough to view the prospect of coming face to face with Paul with less dread.
‘Morning, Louisa. Did you enjoy the jazz last night?’
She cleared her throat. ‘Mm, yes thanks. How did you…?’
Paul, looking his usual breezy self, grinned. ‘Malc told me he was taking you. I hadn’t realised you were a fan.’
‘I’ve been to a few gigs, that’s all. But this was in a different league and we…both thought it was very good.’ She went to move to a place near the back but Paul took her arm, saying he wanted her to sit by a new guest who had not done any yoga before. She could not very well refuse, and ended up being introduced to a woman in her fifties who did look as if she was regretting coming along. Louisa smiled and introduced herself, assuring the other woman that it had been a new experience for her only a few weeks ago. The woman, giving her name as Wendy, seemed to relax and they settled on their mats together ready for Paul to make a start.
After the session Wendy went to chat to Paul. It looked as if he had made another convert, Louisa thought, flashing him a quick smile as she left. At least they could be friends, even though nothing had been resolved. As she passed through the hall, Nadine called to her.
‘Louisa! Your father’s been trying to phone you. Could you ring him back, please? He said it’s important.’
‘Sure, will do. Thanks.’ Louisa bit her lip as she ran up the stairs. Surely he’s not ill? No, he would ring the doctor not me. Not entirely convinced all was well, once in her room she dialled Malcolm’s number.
He answered on the first ring. ‘Louisa! Glad you got the message,’ he said, sounding in good spirits, much to her relief. ‘I’ve had a call from John Ferguson to say he’s traced an Edward Blake who works for the London Underground.’
‘Brilliant! That was quick. Has…has he seen him yet?’ Louisa’s heart was pounding.
Her father coughed. ‘Yes, he went to the address given to him by his police colleagues and saw him leaving the house. He was able to take a photo and he’s compared it to the e-fit and he thinks it’s a good match. But to make sure, he’s emailing it to me so you can see for yourself. If you let me have your email address I’ll forward it as soon as I receive it. Should only be a few minutes. You did say you have your laptop with you?’
‘Yes, yes I have.’ She gave her father the address before hanging up and then switched on her laptop. Nadine had given her the Wi-Fi access code previously so that she could check her emails, something prohibited for the other guests. Louisa’s palms began to sweat as she waited impatiently for the computer to connect to the internet and her email account. The screen filled with emails not yet checked, but none were more recent than the previous day. Taking calming breaths to slow the ever-faster heart rate, she spotted it – an email from Malcolm Roget with an attachment. Ignoring the brief message from John, she opened the file and in a moment found herself staring at the full-length photo of the man known as Edward Blake.