Chapter 16

A

fter shopping for the barbecue on Saturday Jeanne drove down to one of her favourite spots, Moulin Huet, to walk along the cliffs for a couple of hours.

The perfume of wild flowers mingled with the tang of the sea as she gazed down on the idyllic bay, sheltered by the cliffs, with its soft, golden sand and rock pools. Seagulls wheeled over her head and their raucous calls were the only sound on the cliff path. She sat on one of the benches to drink in the sights and smells, admiring the view that had so captivated Renoir that he had painted over a dozen pictures of it. Enjoying the peace of the cliffs reminded her of what she had missed about Guernsey and knew it was the right decision to stay. Whatever life now had in store for her. Getting up to walk back to the car, the name of another Guernsey-loving Frenchman popped into her head, Victor Hugo. After being expelled from Paris, he had settled in St Peter Port for many years, and Jeanne idly wondered if he had been a valued customer of her family’s restaurant in Paris at one time. If she could prove that he was, what a boost that would give her book. Ah, such are the imaginings of writers, she thought, shaking her head as she arrived at the car.

While out shopping she had bought some garden chairs and a sunbed. Once home she flopped on the bed for the remaining hours of sun to boost her tan. After all, she needed to be ready for more compliments.

The weather on Sunday morning was just as forecast. A hazy start followed by a clear sky and temperatures reaching into the twenties. Jeanne had woken feeling a bit stiff from her hike on the cliffs and enjoyed a long soak with the bath salts “guaranteed to melt away all tension and strains”. They must have worked their magic because she hopped out of the bath more easily than she’d climbed in. The sun beckoned so it wasn’t a hard decision to chill out for the morning, putting her new sunbed to good use.

Soon after 2.30 Scott and a friend turned up with the barbecue.

‘Hi, Jeanne. This is Jonathan, another old Grammarian. Nick said we could bring along new faces.’

‘For sure, the more the merrier. Good to meet you, Jonathan. Sorry to ask as soon as you’ve arrived but could you two carry out the kitchen table, please?’

Once the table and barbecue were set up on the lawn Jeanne thanked them, adding, ‘I’ll buy a proper garden table next time so you won’t need to flex your muscles again.’

Scott grinned. ‘No problem. But I think we’ve earned a beer before the others get here.’

They placed a cool box full of beer under the shade of the table and opened some cans as they chatted.

‘Weren’t you in the year above me, Jonathan? In the same class as Marcus?’ Jeanne had vague memories of a lanky boy with dark, straggly hair, who scowled a lot.

‘Afraid so. I was one of those who put the fear of God into the younger ones. Or so we thought.’

‘And who are you terrorising now?’ she grinned at him.

‘My patients, of course. I’m a doctor now and everyone’s scared of the doctor, aren’t they?’

She and Scott laughed at the unlikely scenario of anyone being afraid of Jonathan who looked like the gentle, caring man he was and, according to Scott, had his patients eating out of his hand.

The sound of cars arriving filtered through to them and Jeanne went to the front and showed her guests where to park up the lane before directing back to the garden. When Peter arrived with Molly he was greeted enthusiastically by his former pupils. After much exaggerated politeness on their part Peter said, laughing, ‘Okay, there’s no need to go overboard. Let’s assume you’re all mature adults now and we can be on first name terms. Otherwise I’ll feel as old as the hills!’

The garden seemed to fill up quickly as people carried through cool boxes and the clink of bottles marked their passage to the table, soon awash with various meats, salad, drinks, plates and cutlery. Everyone grabbed a beer or poured wine into the plastic cups Jeanne had provided and the men took charge of the barbecue, now alight and warming up nicely.

Marcus gave Jeanne a hug and kiss on arrival and then joined the other chefs. Nick arrived with Sue, late as usual, and after a quick ‘Hi, how are you?’ he too had drifted off. Jeanne stepped over to say hello to Molly and Peter, who had finally escaped from his ex-students.

‘I must say, I’m impressed with what you and the gardeners have achieved, Jeanne. It’s just as it was when your gran was around,’ Peter remarked.

‘Thanks. But I’ve not finished yet, I’ve got plans for some changes, money permitting, naturally.’ She described her ideas for a pergola and patio and Molly was particularly enthusiastic, making suggestions for the planting which had to include, she insisted, passion flower, honeysuckle and vines. After an animated discussion of the pros and cons of materials and plants, Jeanne excused herself and went off in search of Rachel. She found her in a laughing huddle with Sue and Colette.

‘Hi, girls. Anyone fancy a tour of the cottage?’

‘We’ve been waiting for you to ask,’ said Rachel as they followed her inside. Nick must have been watching them as he came up and asked if he could join the tour. Jeanne explained the planned changes as they went from room to room.

She was intrigued that, once again, no-one commented on the chill of the small bedroom, the only remark being one of envy from Rachel concerning the intended en suite bathroom.

Colette was particularly envious of the size of the kitchen.

‘Our flat’s kitchen is miniscule. And yours will be lovely once it’s finished. Perhaps, one day…’ she sighed.

‘Well, I live in a tiny flat at The Bridge but I like small spaces. Not so much to clean,’ said Sue. ‘But I do think you’ve got a great place here, Jeanne. Good luck to you. You’ll need it once those builders start ripping it about!’

Jeanne nodded. ‘That’s not something I’m looking forward to. I’ll have to set up a barbecue in the garden for cooking and sling a hammock between the trees in the orchard for sleeping.’

‘You could put a tent up in the garden. Think of it as an extended camping holiday,’ joked Rachel.

They were standing in the kitchen and Nick was poring over the rough plans Jeanne and the designer had drawn up.

‘This isn’t bad. What materials are you using for the units?’

‘Painted MDF in a Shaker style and probably a mixture of granite and oak for the worktops. I want a warm, contemporary look. I guess you’re more used to making compact wood galleys?’

‘Yes I am, but some boats are spacious enough to have a large and luxurious galley, especially if we use the best hardwoods. Which reminds me, you’ll be interested to know that we finished Mr Evans’s boat on time, and the cheque’s been banked,’ he grinned at Jeanne.

‘That’s great! Now you can tell him to get stuffed and you’ll be able to relax a bit.’

‘What’s this? How did you know what Nick was working on?’ Sue looked accusingly at Jeanne.

Nick explained about the meeting in the café and Sue seemed satisfied. But she still gave Jeanne a hard look as they went outside. Oh dear, bet she thinks I’m after Nick as well and she’s jealous.

The aroma of grilled meat and fish wafted towards them, setting taste buds tingling. Jeanne was relieved that Peter was keeping tabs on the cooking. Hopefully, there’d be no cremated offerings today.

The food was ready shortly afterwards and the choice of chicken, fish or steak, served with salad, was soon being served up to enthusiastic cries from the hungry partygoers. Once the food had disappeared into the now full stomachs everyone spread out, either on the lawn or in the orchard. Time to give in to the combined soporific effects of sun, alcohol and good food.

Marcus and Jeanne stretched out in the orchard and he flung his arm across her body and quickly succumbed to a doze. She was trying to stay awake, feeling duty bound as the hostess to be alert to her guests’ needs, but the sun’s warm caress was winning. She made herself focus on the party, concluding it had been a success. Several new faces had appeared and it felt good to be offering hospitality to so many.

She and Andy had not been great socialisers, and as Jeanne looked back she realised, with a shock, that it had been Andy who had resisted having friends round, not her. Thinking about it now, she could see he had been more of a loner and she had subdued her own more gregarious personality to suit him. Well, she was her own person now and free to have as many friends and parties as she wanted, she told herself, feeling empowered by her new life.

Jeanne sat up, dislodging Marcus’s arm and he stirred, opened his sleepy eyes and grinned at her.

‘Hey, it feels so good just lying here, do we have to move?’

‘You don’t, but I thought I’d make some tea or coffee for those that want some. Care to give me a hand?’

He shook himself and answered, ‘I’m yours to command, O Mighty One. Lead on.’

Giggling, Jeanne made her way to the kitchen and Marcus asked the slowly stirring bodies who wanted teas or coffees. As he passed on the numbers to her, she had a sudden inspiration.

‘Marcus, you mentioned the other day that your brother Dan is an antiques dealer. I’ve got some furniture I want to sell before the builders arrive. Do you think he’d be interested in buying it?’

He frowned. ‘He might be. Just furniture?’

‘Yes, I’ll show you after we’ve handed out the drinks.’

They returned inside and Jeanne showed Marcus the items on her list.

‘I think it’s the sort of stuff he sells so I’ll give him a ring. But you might get more money from an auction, you know.’

‘I realise that, but it would be less hassle if Dan bought it all. If there’s anything he doesn’t want, I could still send it to auction.’

‘Okay. I’ll get him to ring you and insist he pays you a good price.’

Jeanne smiled her thanks and they went outside to mingle. As she looked around she caught Nick looking at her and she flushed at the intensity of his gaze. Why’s he staring at me? Have I got something on my face? A zit? She cautiously touched her face. Nick seemed to realise he had been staring and turned away to talk to Jonathan. She glanced round, thankful to see Marcus deep in conversation with Tim.

‘You seem to have another admirer,’ Molly said, coming up to Jeanne.

‘Oh, I…I don’t think so. He was probably just staring into space when I came into his line of vision,’ she replied, wondering how much Molly had seen.

‘Have it your own way. But I certainly don’t think he’s indifferent to you. And he is rather attractive, isn’t he?’ Molly said admiringly.

‘Molly! Behave yourself. Remember you’re a happily married woman with two grown up children,’ Jeanne said, trying to sound shocked and disapproving.

Smiling sweetly Molly said, ‘Doesn’t mean I have to stop window shopping, does it? Peter’s certainly enjoyed a little of that today, all those shorts and long legs!’

Jeanne laughed and agreed that there was no harm in window shopping, no harm at all.

It was a still, hot morning as Jeanne walked through the cemetery with fresh flowers. As she put some on her parents’ grave she told them about staying on in Guernsey and living in the cottage. And that she was hoping to have a book published, although she was yet to write it. She smiled as she pictured her parents’ pleasure and pride in her news and went off to her grandparents’ grave.

‘Gran, you’ll be so pleased to know that I’m staying here and I’m going to, er, renew the plumbing and wiring so that the cottage is brought up to date. I promise not to spoil it, just make it more comfortable to live in. Your garden’s looking great and I’ve planted more herbs and…’ Jeanne chatted on, really wanting her gran to know that life was definitely on the up for her.

As she headed back to the car Reverend Ayres came from the direction of the church.

‘Morning, Vicar. I think it’s going to be hot again today, don’t you?’

‘Yes, it is. I envy you being able to dress more casually,’ he said, glancing at her T-shirt and shorts.

‘I’m dressed for a little gardening later. By the way, I’ve decided to stay on here and be a proper Guern.’ She looked at him expectantly.

‘That’s good news, Jeanne. I’m so glad and I’m sure your family would be pleased,’ he said, nodding towards the graves.

‘Oh, does that mean you saw me talking to them?’ Jeanne felt her mouth open in dismay.

‘Actually, I did. But don’t worry, I don’t think you’re mad. If you are, then so are a lot of my parishioners! It’s quite normal to want to converse with those we’ve lost, you know. And remember we talk to God in our prayers and yet we’ve never met Him and we can’t see Him.’ His eyes twinkled at her and Jeanne felt reassured that she wasn’t alone in her need to ‘talk’ to her lost family.

‘Thanks, Vicar. I didn’t fancy being dragged off to the Castel, particularly as I’ve got so much to do. I’d better get going now, but I’ll probably see you again soon. Bye.’

‘Goodbye, Jeanne. God Bless.’

She drove back to the cottage trying hard not to dwell on the promised phone call from Freya. But it was like being told ‘don’t think about a pink elephant’ – it was the first thing that came into one’s mind. Her stomach was permanently in clench mode and she’d made more trips to the loo that morning than she cared to remember. She could really do with Molly’s soothing, hypnotic voice now, she thought, taking a few deep breaths.

Back at Le Petit Chêne she busied herself in the garden, picking up the odd bits of detritus missed in the tidy up after the barbecue. They had finally called it a day about eight o’clock and everyone had happily helped in the clean-up operation. Jeanne had promised to hold another one before the end of summer and there had been a warm exchange of hugs and kisses as the group dispersed. Even Nick, not known for expressions of affection, had given Jeanne a hug and a firm kiss on both cheeks. She had responded with her own kiss, breathing in the citrus tang of his aftershave. Her legs had felt a little weak in the few seconds of the embrace and she would have been happy to stay there a while longer. But Marcus had come up and Nick backed away, enabling Marcus to place a passionate kiss on her lips.

Recalling that moment now, Jeanne realised that physically she had responded more to Nick than to Marcus and she was troubled by this. After all, Nick came across as a loner, not even tempted by the lovely Sue. And she wasn’t interested in a relationship herself at the moment, was she? Jeanne sighed and was saved from further soul searching by the strident ring of the telephone.

Glancing at her watch she saw it was not even twelve o’clock so unlikely to be Freya, but even so her stomach did a flip as she answered.

‘Is that Jeanne Le Page? Dan Davidson. My brother asked me to call you. About some furniture?’

‘Yes, Dan, thanks for phoning. Did Marcus tell you what I’ve got for sale?’

‘He did, but I’m not sure if I’d be interested until I see it. When can I come round?’

‘Would tomorrow morning be all right?’

‘Eleven would suit me. What’s the address?’

Jeanne gave him the details and then replaced the phone. Dan had sounded quite different to Marcus, abrupt and with no charm at all. Perhaps that’s why they don’t get on, she thought, like chalk and cheese.

Determined to keep busy and hoping to up the buying price, Jeanne dug out the wax polish and started on the furniture in the sitting room. The wood positively glowed by the time she’d finished, reflecting the glow on her face from all the elbow grease. She had just rubbed in a coat of wax on the dining table when the phone rang. This time her stomach did a complete somersault and backwards flip as she went to answer it. She knew it was Freya, with news that might well change her life. Her hand was shaking as she picked up the phone.

‘Hi, Jeanne speaking.’