Chapter 29

N

ick had wanted Jeanne to stay at his cottage that night but she had resisted, feeling she had to face her fears. The cottage possessed a couple of spare bedrooms so there was no pressure to share his bed. He had argued long and hard and only gave up when she reminded him that she could phone at any time and he was less than five minutes away by car.

‘It’s not as if I’m in any danger, Nick. Hardly anyone knows that my memory’s returning and I still couldn’t describe those men in the boat. I promise that if and when I can identify them I will make sure I’m somewhere safe. But for the moment that’s not an issue. I have to learn to be less fearful!’ she said firmly.

After a restless night on the boat Jeanne regretted her stubbornness. She had tossed and turned for hours and when she finally succumbed to sleep her dreams were vivid and disturbing. In the last one she was being chased by faceless monsters towards the edge of a cliff and just as she was about to fall over the edge she woke up, bathed in sweat.

The next few nights she slept a little better and by the end of the week her sleep was restful once more. During the day she divided her time between the boat and the library and made occasional trips to a beach to relax. She met Nick in the café a couple of times and they planned to go out for a meal on Saturday evening.

‘Do you like Thai food? I’ll book a table at Sawatdi if you do.’

‘Yes. Haven’t eaten Thai for ages. Certainly make a change from French!’

‘That’s what I thought. I’ll pick you up at eight and we’ll have a drink somewhere first.’

It was hot and sticky on Saturday and Jeanne was finding the humidity in the boat uncomfortable. The sky was not the clear blue she was accustomed to and grey clouds were edging their way over the island. In the evening she changed into her coolest cotton dress, wanting to avoid the stuck-on clothes look. Not at all sexy, she smiled to herself.

‘Hey, you look nice and fresh. And you smell delicious!’ Nick said as he kissed her tenderly on the lips.

‘Thank you, kind sir. But in this heat I’m not sure I’ll stay cool and fresh for long,’ she replied, savouring the touch of his lips on hers. He tasted of minty toothpaste and wore the citrus aftershave that suited him so well. She thought he looked very sexy in his loose-fitting linen shirt and trousers.

As they drove to Town he said, ‘There’s a storm forecast to hit us tomorrow. That’s why it’s so heavy today. It’s expected to arrive late tomorrow evening so you’ll need to batten down the hatches. Can you manage the awning on your own?’

Jeanne nodded. ‘Yep, no problem. I’ll make sure I get it fixed in good time. My poor garden will be glad of the rain so I’m pleased we’re finally going to get some. As long as the sun shines again on Monday. Need to keep working on the tan!’

Nick glanced sideways at her and grinned. ‘Looks pretty good to me now. Don’t overdo it and go all wrinkly on me, will you?’

‘No fear! I’m being sensible and using SPF 20 and avoiding the midday sun, unlike the proverbial mad dogs and Englishmen. Where are we going for a drink?’

‘The new bar in the Pollet. Have you been there?’

‘No, I haven’t. Good, I’m slowly making my way round the bars and restaurants of the island. Another year or two and I’ll have them all sussed!’

Nick parked the jeep on the Crown pier and they walked along the Esplanade and into North Plantation. He guided her into the lower entrance of the bistro and then up the stairs to an intimate bar with leather club chairs around the tables.

‘This is nice! Guernsey’s becoming very sophisticated these days,’ she said as Nick pulled out a chair for her.

‘Well, we ’ave to compete with them ol’ crapauds, for sure,’ he replied in an exaggerated local accent which set Jeanne off into giggles.

Changing back to his usual, urbane voice he asked her what she wanted to drink and went to the bar, returning with a glass of white wine for her and a lager for himself.

Jeanne relaxed into the chair, enjoying the air conditioned comfort of the room. For the first time that day she felt cool.

When they had finished their drinks they retraced their steps down to the North plantation and headed towards the restaurant.

They were greeted by a waitress dressed in traditional Thai costume and led to their table. It was warmer in here and Jeanne asked for iced water with her white wine and chose the milder dishes to avoid the lobster look.

As they started chatting Nick mentioned that the glass fibre hull of the new boat was about to arrive and Jeanne caught his sense of excitement.

‘Your work sounds so interesting, Nick. I’d love to see round your workshop some time. I’m fascinated to see how you get so much into such a small space.’

‘I’d be happy to give you a guided tour and will let you know when’s a good time, perhaps after the hull has arrived. And how are things in the book world?’

‘Great. I’m much more in tune with the food aspect of the book since I helped Colette with the recipes. It’s made it more real. As soon as I’m back in my cottage with a fully functioning kitchen I plan to start cooking the Guernsey dishes.’

‘And will I be invited round as a taster this time?’ he asked, his head on one side.

‘There’s a slight possibility that I’ll need a guinea pig. I’ll let you know,’ she teased. The thought of Nick sitting in her brand new kitchen while she served the food made her flush and she kept her head down to hide her face. She found herself imagining what might happen after the meal and was mentally climbing the stairs, arm in arm with Nick, when the waitress arrived with the food.

Jeanne enjoyed the unusual, delicate flavours of the food and the exotic setting. Towards the end of the meal she found the heat enervating and even outside the air still felt clammy, causing her hair to stick to her scalp. In the jeep she was so overcome with tiredness that she found it impossible to stifle her yawns.

Nick glanced at her and said, sympathetically, ‘It’s the heat, it drains everyone’s energy. I hate to admit it, but I’m feeling tired as well. Perhaps we should both have an early night. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on tomorrow. I was going to invite myself in for a coffee but…’

Her heart beat faster. So he wants us to get closer! Great! If only I weren’t so wiped out. But I can wait a bit longer…

‘Another time. Once the storm’s passed and we’re both full of energy again, I’d be happy to invite you round. Perhaps Monday night?’

‘Great.’

‘I’ll look forward to it,’ she said, with a lingering look.

Returning her look he said, softly, ‘So shall I!’

Jeanne woke up late on Sunday and although she had slept soundly, felt tired and drained. It had been so hot that she had stripped to her pants and thrown off all the coverings. Feeling in need of a decent shower she walked to the shower block and came back refreshed and energised. Any sun was completely hidden behind a mass of black clouds bruising the sky.

Too restless to stay cooped up in the boat she decided to check on the cottage, not having been there for a couple of days. After re-attaching the awning and checking that the moorings were securely fixed, she drove down to Perelle. It was strange entering the cottage with no-one else there and the quiet was almost unnerving after the cacophony of noise that usually accompanied her visits. Glad to find it cool inside she entered the kitchen and gasped. It was completely empty – the range and cupboards had been stripped out and the dresser and table moved temporarily into the dining room.

Thinking the space looked enormous, Jeanne wandered around. The doorway had been knocked through to the dining room and an old door matching the others was already in situ. The utility room – the old larder – was stacked with appliances waiting to be connected. A new oil fired range was to be delivered the following day in time for the kitchen fitters.

All the first fix wiring and plumbing was complete and by the end of the week she hoped to have a functioning kitchen. She checked the rest of the ground floor and was particularly pleased with the cloakroom. The suite was plumbed in and the walls tiled half-way round as she had designed. Both the wall and floor tiles were limestone, providing a touch of luxury. The soft Etruscan Red that Jeanne had chosen for the rest of the walls gave the room warmth, definitely more welcoming than that awful green her grandparents had used.

Upstairs also showed much improvement with the main bathroom fitted and partly tiled while in the en suite only the shower was in place. A spacious walk-in model with a powerful jet system she couldn’t wait to try out. Won’t be long now, she hoped. Waiting to be fixed to the wall was a giant ladder radiator guaranteed to provide plenty of heat, wiping out the memory of the cold room it had been. At least to her.

Jeanne reckoned that at this rate the plumbing would be finished in just over a week and she would be a big step closer to moving back in. The bedrooms had only needed re-wiring and fitting with radiators and this was now finished. All that remained was decorating which she planned to do herself, one room at a time. She had chosen soft neutrals for the bedrooms and sitting room with a splash of warm terracotta in the dining room where she now made herself a cup of coffee in the temporary kitchen set up by the builders.

Going outside she made herself comfortable, sipping her coffee as she savoured the peace of the now lovely garden. Finishing her drink, she pottered; dead-heading and weeding until the heat became too much. She had just gone inside for a glass of water when her mobile rang.

‘Hi, Jeanne. Please don’t hang up on me. I need to talk to you. Will you give me a few minutes, please?’

‘Oh, Marcus. All right, I’m listening,’ Jeanne sighed. She was no longer angry and, strengthened by Nick’s support decided to humour him. She knew how painful it was to love someone who didn’t love you and felt Marcus deserved some sympathy.

‘I’m sorry for the way I’ve been. I realise that you don’t feel for me the way I feel for you. I guess I’ll just have to accept that’s not likely to change. But I hate us not being friends and would like us to meet for a drink.’ He paused and Jeanne heard him take a deep breath. ‘If we’re to see each other as part of the group it would be easier for us both if we could be friendly. So, what do you say? Can we have a drink for old time’s sake?’

He sounded so contrite and Jeanne had to agree that it would make sense to patch things up a bit.

‘I suppose so. As long as you promise not to come onto me.’

‘I promise. How about this evening?

‘Oh, oh all right. When and where?’

‘Let’s say eight thirty. At The Doghouse in the Rohais?’

‘Okay. I’ll see you later.’

Jeanne was left feeling slightly unsure of herself. It was all right in theory agreeing to see Marcus face to face but she wasn’t sure how it would go in practice. She certainly wouldn’t have instigated such a meeting, but if it meant so much to him…Ah well, she mused, can’t do any harm and I won’t need to stay long.

After spending a further couple of hours at the cottage she returned, with reluctance, to the boat. The evening air was charged with electricity and she could hear the rumble of thunder in the distance. Not a great time to be going out, she thought, as she changed. It was clear the storm was well on the way and it promised to be a wet night.

She drove to Town and parked behind the bar. Walking towards the entrance she could hear what sounded like live music and was pleased that she might not have to make polite conversation after all. The music would provide the entertainment.

As she walked in she spotted Marcus at a small table nursing a pint. He looked up as she approached and jumped to his feet.

‘Hi, Jeanne. I’m really glad you came. Wasn’t sure if you would, to be honest. Thought you might’ve been fobbing me off,’ he said, with a tentative smile.

‘I always keep my word, Marcus. How are you?’

As Jeanne sat down she looked at him closely in the dim light of the bar and was shocked at what she saw. His hair was unwashed and unkempt and he did not appear to have shaved for days. He looked pale and tired. Surely this wasn’t all down to her? Pushing down a twinge of guilt, she hoped not.

‘I…I’m fine. Just a bit tired as I’ve been working long hours lately and can’t sleep in this heat. Look, let me get you a drink.’

He went off and she looked turned around to watch the trio playing in the corner. She liked the music though it seemed a tad loud for the small space. From the enthusiastic applause she gathered they were a regular fixture.

Marcus came back with a glass of white wine for her and another beer for himself. She took an appreciative sip.

‘Thanks. So, you’ve been working hard? You do look pretty tired.’

Marcus ran his fingers through his hair making it even messier.

‘Yep. There’s been a bit of a panic on lately. But things should get back to normal soon. What about you? You’re looking great. Positively glowing! Things going well?’ he asked, gazing at her with bloodshot eyes.

‘Apart from the upset over the baby’s body, everything’s been fine, thanks. I’ve been busy writing the book,’ Jeanne replied, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. She didn’t want him to know about Nick, worried that it might provoke him. She had a feeling he’d been drinking heavily even though his speech wasn’t slurred.

Marcus nodded. ‘I saw the report of the inquest in the paper. And I heard that you’d had a funeral. I’m sorry I made fun of what had happened. It was uncalled for. And I’m glad that you’re doing well with the book. Have you had your money yet?’

‘No, but it’s on the way.’

There was a lull in the conversation as he stared into his beer and Jeanne was relieved when the band struck up another song. Marcus remained lost in thought so she just focussed on the music. The lead singer, a diminutive blonde in jeans and a skimpy top, had a powerful voice. Jeanne found herself tapping her foot to the catchy beat and for a while forgot where she was.

‘Hello, Marcus. Fancy seeing you here,’ said a familiar voice and Jeanne turned round to find herself being stared at by Dan.

‘I see you’ve got your friend with you. Hello, Jeanne. How’s the building work going?’ he said, his face expressionless.

‘Fine, thanks. I hope to move back in soon.’

Jeanne noticed Marcus looking at his brother with an odd expression on his face: a mix of fear and awe. She was taken aback. Marcus was usually so confident, almost too much so. In his brother’s presence he became somehow diminished.

‘Let me get you both a drink. Same again?’ Dan said, pointing at their nearly empty glasses.

They nodded and he disappeared to the bar.

Marcus looked apologetic. ‘Sorry about Dan. As I told you, we don’t really get on but it wouldn’t look good to snub him.’

‘It’s okay. Not your fault. Perhaps he won’t stay long,’ she said hopefully.

Dan returned with their drinks and Jeanne’s wish was granted as only a few minutes later he took his leave of them, muttering that he had someone to meet.

Jeanne let out a sigh of relief and Marcus seemed to perk up, becoming more chatty.

‘You never really told me much about your weekend in London. What did you end up doing?’

She felt on safer ground and was quite happy to describe both her meeting with the agent and the good time she’d had with Freya. Time passed quickly and it was with a shock that she saw it was nearly ten o’clock.

‘I’d better get going as I don’t want to be late tonight with the storm about to break. Thanks for the drink. I guess we can still be friends,’ she said, smiling.

He stood up and kissed her lightly on the cheek before saying, ‘Thanks again for coming, Jeanne. I appreciate it. I expect we’ll see each other around. Take care.’

She went back to her car relieved to find that so far the rain had held off. Twenty minutes later she was back at the marina and as she was preparing to board La Belle Élise the first drops of rain fell. Flashes of forked lightning lit up the horizon and the rumble of thunder was getting closer. She had taken her torch which was just as well as it was pitch black and judging by the lack of lights on the neighbouring boats everyone else was either already in bed or out. Since her arrival she had hardly seen anyone on the other boats and for the first time she wished for company.

By the time the cabin was unlocked she felt desperately tired, even worse than the previous night. It must be this heat, she thought drowsily. And perhaps the wine. She almost fell into the bunk and was immediately asleep.

Several hours later Jeanne stirred after waking from a bad dream, feeling afraid with her heart racing. In the dream she was in a sinking boat which had been hit by another, and she was drowning. Reaching groggily for the light switch she cried out. Something was wrong, the boat was listing and she could hear water sloshing about. As she swung her legs over the edge of the bunk her head swam and she felt dizzy. Putting her feet down gingerly she found herself standing in water.

‘Oh my God!’ she cried. ‘The boat’s sinking!’ She struggled to keep her footing as waves of nausea overwhelmed her as she grabbed her clothes and the torch before stumbling towards the door. The water was a few inches deep and the boat was rocking from side to side but she finally made it and after a struggle managed to pull it open. She crawled up the steps and into the cockpit.

Here it was dry but she could hear the rain lashing down on the awning and through the clear plastic window caught flashes of lightning overhead. Gingerly she lifted up part of the awning and screamed. The boat was no longer moored safely on the pontoon but was drifting, battered by the wind and rain, towards the rocky harbour entrance and the open sea.