Chapter 28

I

t was with mixed feelings that Jeanne helped Colette with the final touches to the food on Friday afternoon. Colette’s leave was over and the cooking of the Guernsey dishes would take place in her own time, in her flat. They had worked through a large number of recipes over the past two weeks and all received top marks from the tasters.

Although Jeanne was glad to be free of the cooking she was going to miss Colette and spending time with Nick. The boat was a bit too claustrophobic to spend all day on it and she planned to spend more time in the library.

That final evening, Colette was joining Nick and Jeanne for the meal and the girls decorated the dining table as if for a celebration. Jeanne had bought wine to complement the food and they were both feeling pleased with their combined efforts.

‘It’s such a shame Scott has to work, he’d have appreciated a proper sit-down meal instead of a tray perched on his lap,’ Colette said, fiddling with the Hors D’Oeuvre.

‘At least he knows you’re safely with your brother and not entertaining some strange man,’ grinned Jeanne.

Colette threw her a sly look. ‘I might be safe, but are you? Seems to me I’ll be playing gooseberry this evening.’

Jeanne flushed. ‘Don’t know what you mean! Nick and I are just friends. Nothing’s happened between us, honest.’

‘Yet! But if I know my brother, and I should do, he’s got the hots for you, all right. I don’t think you’ll be able to play Miss Innocent for too much longer!’ Colette smirked.

‘Mm, well, I guess we do hit it off. But neither of us wants to rush things. We’ve both been hurt too much before to make another mistake.’

‘Don’t get me wrong. I think it’d be great if you two become an item. I can see how well you get on and I think you’d be good for him. And I hope he’d be good for you, too. He’s a really nice guy who got a bit prickly after he was dumped but I’ve noticed how much happier he’s been since you came on the scene. And just think, one day we could be sisters!’

Jeanne threw a napkin she was folding at Colette who burst into a fit of giggles. It was infectious and Jeanne was soon joining in until they were both on the verge of collapse. They fell, laughing, into chairs and that’s how Nick found them.

‘Anyone care to share the joke?’ he said, standing over them like a teacher with naughty schoolchildren.

This just prompted another fit of giggles and Nick stood there, rolling his eyes.

‘Is it something in the food? Some new ingredient you’re testing? Or have you already started on the wine?’

The girls managed to pull themselves together and insisted that they had not touched a drop.

‘Just a female joke, that’s all. You wouldn’t understand, bruv. Now, why don’t you go and freshen up while we finish off here?’ suggested Colette, waving Nick off in the direction of the stairs.

‘Okay, okay. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Perhaps you’ll have calmed down by then,’ he said dryly.

Colette and Jeanne just grinned at each other and hurried to finish off serving the starters, a mixed Hors D’Oeuvre and Escargots de Bourgogne. The main courses were Turbot Dugléré and Morue Gourmet, much lighter than some of the meat dishes they had been eating earlier that week. The puddings were less healthy, Clafouti Limousin and Coeurs à la Crème, but they wanted their last meal to end in style.

When Nick returned to the kitchen he was met by a candle-lit table set with the starters, and the girls looking very summery without their cooking aprons.

‘I almost feel that I should be wearing a jacket and tie,’ he said, putting his arms around their shoulders. ‘And what more could a man want than to wine and dine with his two favourite women?’ he grinned.

Colette rolled her eyes and ushered him to his seat.

The meal was fun, the food delicious and the Chablis a perfect accompaniment. They were all in good spirits by the time they started to clear away and Nick looked fondly at Colette and Jeanne.

‘This has been quite an experience, girls. I’ve not eaten so well and for so long before. Colette, you’ve surpassed yourself. And the sous chef wasn’t bad either,’ he said, catching Jeanne’s eye.

‘That’s very kind of you, bruv. But, although, in all modesty, I must agree with you that I’m a great chef, I have to give credit where it’s due. And that’s to those recipes of Jeanne’s. Some of them were truly inspired and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed recreating them. When I open my own restaurant I’d be happy to serve such food to my diners.’

‘We’ll definitely be your first customers when you open your doors!’ Nick said.

Jeanne noticed the term ‘we’ and her heart fluttered. If he’s looking that far ahead he must think we’re going to be a couple, she thought. Hope he’s right!

The weekend was a time of peace and reflection for Jeanne, free from her kitchen duties. Some of the time she spent collating all the details of the recipes Colette had worked on. It was difficult to concentrate for long in the heat of the cabin and she went out to the cockpit at regular intervals for air. She concluded that it would be more sensible to work in the early evening and relax more in the heat of the day.

She and Nick had agreed to forgo eating out for a while to give their stomachs a chance to recover after the barrage of gourmet meals. They planned to stay in touch by meeting up at the café on The Bridge for a coffee or light lunch a couple of times a week.

On Monday morning Jeanne went off to the cottage to check on Martin’s progress and was delighted to see that destruction had given way to construction. The plasterer was due to start that week, a sign that the work was progressing apace. Martin was cheerful.

‘It’s saving us at least two weeks with your being out o’ the cottage, Jeanne. May even be able to let you back in here in a couple o’ weeks,’ he grinned. ‘Are the kitchen people still coming next week?’

‘Yes, they phoned to say they’d be here next Monday. Are you ready to take out the old range and cupboards?’

Martin nodded. ‘I’ve got a couple o’ lads coming in to dismantle the range this week. If you could pack up your pots and pans we can start on the cupboards.’

Jeanne emptied the cupboards and the dresser and the labourer carried the boxes up to the attic for safekeeping. Her home was slowly emptying of everything from her past and she felt a pang as she looked around. It may have been shabby and a bit uncomfortable but it was her family’s heritage and Jeanne felt guilty about what could be seen as a desecration of that legacy. Her only consolation was that the cottage would retain its charm and character with its uneven floors and slightly ill-fitting windows. It was just going to lose its dodgy plumbing and winter chill, she reminded herself.

One aspect that she felt particularly proud of was the exposed beams. The black paint had been sandblasted off to reveal the original golden brown oak underneath and the rooms looked lighter and warmer, leaving Jeanne feeling that, on balance, her efforts at transformation were beneficial.

By the time she had finished changing the flowers on the graves it was nearly three and Jeanne set off to Molly’s for her therapy session. Still a little nervous, in spite of Nick’s reassurance, but she had complete faith in Molly’s professionalism.

‘Hello, Jeanne. Had a good week?’ asked Molly as she gave her a quick hug.

‘Yes, thanks. Progress all round,’ Jeanne smiled.

‘Good. We might as well get started then.’

When Jeanne was settled in the recliner Molly explained how the session would proceed.

‘When you’re relaxed I’ll reinforce the positive suggestions I’ve been using in the sessions. Then I’ll ask your subconscious mind to take you back in time to the day of the accident. My questions will help you remember and you’ll be able to answer while still in an hypnotic state. You may not see everything clearly this first time. Some people say it’s as if they’re seeing things through a fog so don’t worry if that happens. We can always repeat the session. All right?’

Jeanne nodded and managed a tight smile. ‘Sure, let’s get going.’

Molly spent a few minutes talking Jeanne into a deep relaxed state, and she found herself letting go as Molly continued with her ‘ego-boosting routine’.

‘Now, Jeanne, I want your subconscious mind to help you go back in time, back in time. To the evening of Sunday, 6th August 1989. I repeat, the evening of Sunday, 6th August 1989. You are in your father’s boat JayJay with your parents and have been to Herm for the day and are now on the way home to Guernsey, to St Peter Port. Can you see yourselves in the boat, Jeanne?’

‘Yes. Dad’s at the steering wheel and Mum and I are in the cockpit, in the stern. Mum’s standing up, near the rail and I’m sitting down.’ Jeanne’s voice was quiet but clear.

‘Good. Do you know what time it is?’

‘About ten, I think. It’s dark and we’re late coming back, we don’t usually come back so late. But Mum and Dad were delayed, I don’t know why. Dad’s cross about something and wants to get home quickly.’

‘Right. Can you tell me what happens next?’

Jeanne shifted slightly in the chair and she frowned, still with her eyes closed.

‘Um, we’re about half-way back. We’ve been the only boat around till now but I can see another boat behind us, coming from Herm I suppose. It’s white. Looks like a speedboat. Seems to be doing a few knots. Dad’s seen it now. He calls to Mum. It sounds like “It’s them!” I think.’ Again Jeanne stirred and she felt anxious.

‘It’s all right, Jeanne. Take your time. Can you see who’s in the boat?’

‘I…I…think there’s two…two men. Yes, definitely two.’

‘Can you describe them to me?’

‘I can see fair hair. Both have fair hair. And they’re tall. Seem tall in the boat. The one steering looks young. Both look young. But their faces are a bit blurred. It’s so dark,’ she whispered.

‘That’s good, Jeanne. What happens next?’

‘They seem to be heading for us. Dad’s shouting at them – but they keep coming. We’re near some rocks. Dad pulls the wheel but we’re still too close to the rocks. The boat’s hit us!’ Jeanne gasped, writhing in the chair. ‘To starboard and the boat shudders. Mum’s losing her balance, staggers. We hit the rocks and Mum staggers again, looks dizzy. I think she’s hit her head, she’s trying to hold onto the rail. Oh no! the boat’s hitting us again –capsizing – Mum’s falling over the rail – Dad yells at me – “take the wheel” – he goes toward Mum – Oh, I can’t see them!’ Jeanne cried out, thrashing about in the chair.

‘It’s all right, Jeanne. It’s all right. I want you to leave that time now. It’s time to come back to the present. I’m going to bring you back to the present and there will be no part of you left behind in the past.’

Jeanne became aware of Molly's voice guiding her back from that night and the memory of what happened, telling her to open her eyes.

She blinked, her eyes unfocussed, as Molly handed her a glass of water.

‘Here, Jeanne, take some deep breaths and drink this.’

She felt washed out but began to feel calmer after drinking the water and her eyes regained focus.

‘How do you feel?’ Molly asked gently.

‘I’ve felt better! But I guess I’m okay. It was like watching an old film. Some bits were clearer than others.’ Jeanne shuddered.

‘You did really well, my dear. I know how hard this must have been for you, but you’ve already remembered so much. I’m sure you’ll be able to recollect more but I thought you’d had enough for today. You remember what you saw?’

She nodded. ‘Yes and how I felt. But I’m calmer now. I guess it was the younger me’s emotions I was experiencing.’

‘Yes, for a while you were a teenager again. And it must have been a terrible experience for you. Now, I think we both need some tea, or would you prefer something stronger?’

Jeanne managed a grin. ‘I’ll settle for the tea, thanks. Don’t want to get done for drink driving on top of everything else!’

Before Jeanne left Molly’s she phoned Inspector Ferguson and arranged for him meet her at the boat. She also phoned Nick to ask if they could meet up that evening and he suggested she came round to his place.

The inspector listened attentively to all that Jeanne had to say, asking questions and making notes as they talked. His face was sombre as he got up to go.

‘This is a great help, Jeanne. I couldn’t find anything in the file that gave me any clues at all but what you’ve just told me puts a very different complexion on the affair. Rest assured, I’ll bring those responsible to justice. It’s now my number one priority. What bothers me is your being here on your own. You sure you’re all right?’ he said, looking askance at the boat.

‘I’ll be fine, Inspector. Really. It’s good therapy for me to be staying on the boat and my friend lives nearby.’

‘Well, if you say so. I’d better get off, lots to do, now. I’ll keep in touch.’

A while later Jeanne locked up the boat and drove off to La Tonnelle.

‘Hi! Good to see you. And you look like you need a hug.’ Nick greeted her at the door and took her in his arms. She breathed in his smell – a mixture of citrusy aftershave and freshly cut wood. It felt so good to be in his arms and they kissed before he led her into the sitting room.

‘Red wine okay? Or would you prefer something else?’

‘That’s fine, thanks.’

After Nick had poured out two glasses he sat next to her on the sofa and, taking hold of her hand, said, ‘Right, now tell me all about it.’

Jeanne repeated what she’d told Inspector Ferguson – what she’d remembered under hypnosis. She had been quite calm with the inspector earlier but for some reason she was finding it harder to tell Nick. It may have been the combined effect of the wine and his loving sympathy but she was almost in tears as she finished.

‘You know, the biggest shock was that I got the strong impression those men in the boat were deliberately steering towards us – they wanted to crash into us – wanted to kill us!’ As she clung onto his arm all her pain and anguish flooded through her body. She added, brokenly, ‘So it wouldn’t have been the drunken accident we’d supposed but…but…murder!’