The Vineyard. Karen Aldous
Flutters surged through her core.
‘Lizzie, really. You’re angry as well as upset! You’ve obviously had a very nasty shock or, should I say, a few nasty shocks today, plus all that travelling you’ve done. Let me run you a nice warm bath. I’ll make you something to eat while you relax.’
Lizzie did as she was told and soaked a while in the bath, doing everything she could to thrust Cal from her mind. What was she thinking? Attractive as Cal was, he was in a relationship with her mother. He loves her. It was outrageous to even think about him. Get a grip girl.
***
‘I think it was a mistake to go back home,’ Lizzie admitted, tying the bath gown around her waist and following a welcoming spicy aroma to where Sophie stood in the kitchen stir-frying vegetables in a pan. Guilty now that she had severely lost her appetite, she wondered if Sophie’s efforts would all be in vain. Her friend gave her a sisterly smile.
‘Actually no, I don’t think so, on the contrary. It hurts now but you had to do it sometime and today was as good a time as any. Did you tell your mother about Thierry?’
‘Luckily, no, thank God. I feel so much for Thierry. What was I thinking, bringing a child into this world with no proper family?’
How was she to explain all this to Thierry when the time came? ‘He’s a happy, healthy child Lizzie.’
‘But he will only know me and an au-pair, Marie-Claire! Oh, yes,’ she gave Sophie’s elbow a quick squeeze, ‘he also has his lovely aunty Sophie too, of course.’
‘Absolutely’ Sophie nodded as she gathered some cutlery for the table. ‘Aunty Sophie is definitely not going anywhere.’
‘It’s really sad and I really wish Thierry had had the opportunity to meet my grandad. He would have loved him. I have so many fond memories. I must have really let grandad down when I didn’t return home.’
Her throat tightened as his kind old face flashed across her mind. She was, after all, all he had left after her father died. He’d suddenly lost a son, his only son, and she couldn’t imagine anything worse than losing a child. She had lost her father but to witness her grandfather and grandmother cry really hurt. Whilst her mother appeared so indifferent, so unemotional, arranging the funeral and nagging her to do her homework when all she wanted to do was hide away in her room and cry and think of him. Lizzie swept her wet hair back and clipped it.
‘I’m just so relieved I didn’t take Thierry along, how bloody awful that would have been.’
‘Take it one step at a time. You’ll be fine.’ Sophie scattered place mats on the table. ‘I know you will Lizzie. You’re a survivor and I’m sure you will sort things out once you’ve had a chance to think about them rationally. Your emotions are all over the place at the moment and, who knows, you may meet that someone special who will bring you happiness. Have you heard anything from Anton since?’ Sophie enquired.
‘No, nothing, which is strange after his angry outburst when he found out about Thierry. I wonder if he’s changed his mind. I’m just so glad I stayed away from that relationship. Can you imagine? That man must be totally deluded if he thinks he could become domesticated.’
Lizzie squirmed remembering the scene several weeks ago. He’d caught her completely by surprise, demanding to know if her child was his. Not only was she shocked but also unprepared. She openly admitted Thierry was his. Anton was furious, demanding to know why she hadn’t told him. Why would she? He wouldn’t have been interested. He wasn’t that interested in his son now. No, she imagined Anton’s only interest was himself and the control it could give him.
‘Well considering he was threatening to get custody when you saw him.’
‘Bizarre yes. I should have just denied Thierry was his. I’m so stupid.
‘Well, like he said, he could have a DNA test.’
‘That’s it. It’s so easy nowadays. So bloody annoying and when he told me that his sister Colette was sure the child was his, it unnerved me because why would she come to the salon when they have their own spa at the hotel. Do you think they’ve suspected for a while?’
‘No, Anton would have questioned you before. Perhaps they don’t want to be that intimate with their own staff.’
‘Maybe their staff refuse to treat them more like. I don’t have contact with her if I can help it.’
‘Or it could simply be she likes the best.’ Sophie nudged her friend.
‘C’est vrai! Or, maybe she is Anton’s spy’. Lizzie raised her hand pretending to hold a magnifying glass.
‘Ha! Planning a grandchild snatch!’ Sophie mocked.
‘Well, they can think again. He’s my son. I’ve been controlled enough by my mother – I’d have been mad to have been sucked in to his lifestyle of drugs and paranoia. Hardly child-friendly.
‘Absolutely, you did the right thing.’
‘Yes, just me and Thierry. No Anton. No mother. We’ve managed this long. Well, I don’t know what I’d have done without you, of course. But I’m not going to give my witch of a mother any more of my precious time and I’m certainly not giving her the opportunity to start controlling Thierry’s life. Like I said, my only regret really is that Grandad didn’t meet Thierry and vice versa. They would have so loved one another.’ Lizzie made a sad face. ‘They were my main reason for going home. I’m sure anyone in their right mind wouldn’t have bothered returning to see a mother like mine. Thankfully, I have you.’ Lizzie blew a kiss as she looked lovingly at her friend. ‘It’s a shame we don’t live closer.’
‘Actually, I have some news on that score.’ Sophie’s voice brightened as she brought the dinner plates and placed them on the table, then looked up with a wide grin. ‘I have been accepted to lecture at the Nice University two days a week and can finally move south.’
‘Oh Sophie, that’s wonderful. All your hard work is paying off. All those years. I’m really, really pleased for you.’ Lizzie threw out her arms in an excited lunge towards her friend and squeezed her tight. ‘I’m so sorry it’s all been about me. We should be celebrating your good news. So, does that mean…?’
‘Yes. I can be your plastic surgeon and chief filler if you’ll still have me join Beaute Dedans?’
‘Oh my God, yes. I’ll go and get a bottle of bubbly’.
‘No need.’ Sophie opened the fridge and produced one. ‘I went out and bought one as soon as you said you were on your way. I didn’t know what you had just been through then though’.
‘All I can say is, thank God I have you. You are my family. We need to celebrate.’
The Champagne cork popped and sprang to the ceiling to both their delight and giggles.
‘I am so excited.’ Sophie squealed, pouring the sparkling nectar into two Champagne flutes.
‘Oh you know how to cheer up your best friend. That’ll be so amazing. We’ll be able to see much more of each other. Congratulations! Sante!’ They both lifted their glasses as joy replaced the tears. ‘Here’s to you, Dr Sophie Pitou, soon to be lecturer and, leading plastic surgeon in Cannes!’
‘Oh Lizzie it’s amazing. All those plans we had when we were in Meursault at the Campsite. Well, we are certainly getting closer to our dream and the university environment will help so I can keep up with research and development, trials and new ideas.’
‘I have every faith in you Dr Pitou.’
‘Thank you Ms Lambert I’m sure your make-up and beauty treatments will complement my procedures perfectly.’
‘Absolutely.’
The next morning, the alarm sounded at six and both girls woke with groggy heads. Sophie rushed to the shower whilst Lizzie made fresh coffee