The Vineyard. Karen Aldous

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Название The Vineyard
Автор произведения Karen Aldous
Жанр Контркультура
Серия
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472096265



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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 in the kitchen. ‘Oh I hope I haven’t made you late for work.’

      ‘No don’t be silly. I have plenty of time, I just need something to soothe the head.’

      ‘I have some paracetemol in my bag,’ Lizzie said, digging into her handbag and pulling out the packet.

      ‘Thanks. I’ll have just one please.’ Sophie popped the pill and sat quickly at the table.

      ‘I think I’ll take one too, otherwise I’ll have this all day.’

      I’ve been thinking,’ Sophie started as she began sipping her cooling coffee. What if we spend some time together soon, the three of us, you me and Thierry? We can take a short break up in the hills, in Provence or something, later this month?’

      ‘Ahh! May is too busy for me, the salon will be bursting! We have the Film Festival, the music festivals, plus the Monaco Grand Prix. June would be better.’

      ‘Yes, of course. Well let me know when you can, before it gets too warm and before I move down. I have some leave to use up. We can take Thierry on some walks, get him used to some hiking, maybe even some camping,’ Sophie said excitedly.

      ‘Walking yes, camping no. Not until next year when he’s nearer four. I might as well enjoy a bit more luxury while I can. I’m sure he’ll love the camping though, like his mum and Aunty Sophie.’ Lizzie said recalling the vibration of excitement kids had at the campsite.

      ‘What child doesn’t like camping?’ Sophie said.

      ‘Well too much like hard work just now. I will book a hotel I know. You will love it, I know you will.’

      ‘Brilliant. I will be busy anyway handing over patients’ files and letting the apartment.’

      ‘Oh yes. I take it you’ve handed your notice in then?’

      ‘I finish officially in mid-July.’ Sophie stood up, beaming proudly.

      ‘Great. What about Guillaume?’

      ‘Well I haven’t officially served notice on him yet.’ She sat back down cradling her head. ‘I’m not looking forward to that.’

      ***

      Thierry was cosily tucked up in bed when Lizzie arrived back at her Cannes apartment. She couldn’t resist spending a few hours with Sophie in Paris and, of course, doing a little shopping. Sophie managing a long lunch break. Thank God for Thierry’s nanny, or au pair really, Marie-Claire. She was such a gem and Lizzie counted herself lucky to have found her as she couldn’t have afforded to pay for full-time childcare. Not when she started out in Cannes. She entered Thierry’s room to watch her beautiful child lie sleeping so peacefully and so deliciously unaware of the previous few days’ events. She visualised her grandfather playing on the floor with her little boy just like he did with her. He would always get down to her level, physically and mentally. Although she was sure his agility would have waned. He just loved to have fun though, whether playing tea parties or being plastered in mother’s make-up, he didn’t complain.

      He taught her lots too. He would read to her when she was small and, whilst her father was still working, he always made sure she understood her words and they would make a game of who would find a word in the dictionary first. His love of numbers was reflected in his fun ways to make her maths homework enjoyable too. He had a knack for explaining concepts. He always said if he hadn’t inherited the house and land and, like his father, gone into farming, he would have loved to have taught maths.

      His other passion of course was animals. They would go together to check on the cows and sheep and if any of them showed any signs of ill health or disease, Thomas, the vet was called in, which was always an adventure - until Cider had to be put down of course; her lovely old golden retriever her grandfather had bought her when she was just two years old.

      Her mother would always complain about the mess animals made and was dead against another dog. Not that she was ever there anyway to clear up the mess, preferring her job and social life. Thank God she had her grandfather. Lizzie’s eyes filled again as she thought about her grandfather and the memories and regrets that overflowed in her head.

      It was a long time before Lizzie finally relaxed into a much-needed sleep and very early when she awoke. Thierry was jumping all over her. She gave him a big kiss and explained to him that she and Aunty Sophie would be taking him on a holiday in the mountains. She then drew her child into her arms, brushed his dark hair with her hands, then held him closer to her and gave him a huge hug.

      ‘Mummy loves you so, so much. We will be just fine. You and me.’

      ‘Bonjour, Lizzie. Ca va?’ Marie-Claire stood at her bedroom door and Lizzie greeted her with a beaming smile.

      ‘Bonjour, Marie-Claire. Thank you, yes I’m ok. The trip was a little shorter than anticipated but I’m pleased to be home. The salon aren’t expecting me today so I’ll spend the day with Thierry – that is, if there’s nothing you have planned with him?’

      ‘Non. Nothing that cannot wait,’ replied Marie-Claire and she turned to make her way to the kitchen. ‘I’ll make the breakfast.’ She left mother and son in their loving embrace.

      ‘Come on Thierry, we can be getting washed and dressed. Let’s have a day out.’

      ***

      Lizzie drove to Aix-en-Provence and parked her car.

      ‘Come on little man, we will have a walk round the market and look for some goodies and then I’ll take you to have a special lunch.’

      The market was brimming with stalls containing appetising, fresh local produce such as vegetables, cheeses, nuts, breads, fine patisseries, cold meats, sweets, as well as beautiful fabrics. Thierry immediately spotted the sweet stall and both he and Lizzie had fun choosing from the delicious selection. Happy with his little mix of sweets, bagged by Lizzie as a small pacifier, they walked on to a cheese stall. Lizzie selected some Gruyere, Emmental and Reblochon, her favourite mountain cheeses, and they walked on through a narrow street to the wider Avenue of Aix town.

      Thierry toddled along, joyfully clutching his mother’s hand as they reached the vintage clothes market stalls on the Cours Mirabeau: Lizzie’s heaven when she needed some escapism. She loved the wide selection of classic or haute couture from which to browse and choose, children’s as well as adults’. She found a beautifully tailored wool-mix suit, perfect to wear separately as well as chicly together with a plain top. For Thierry, she spotted some brightly coloured trousers and married it with a funky t-shirt. Her son gave an approving nod then immediately tucked his little hand back into his bag to select his next sweet.

      ‘Make that your last one sweetheart, we’ll stop for lunch soon and you won’t want to ruin your pizza, it’s your favourite,’ Lizzie said as they crossed the Cours Mirabeau.

      ‘Pizza?’ Thierry repeated. But before she could answer, Lizzie was stunned by a figure walking in their direction.

      ‘Errr… yes we can go to Chez Jo….’ She trailed off, tightening her grip on Thierry’s tiny hand. It was too late. The figure was approaching them. Her heart both pounded and whirled at once. Her throat dried, her head told her to flee, she could only hope he didn’t recognise her but he was in front of her now and there was no escape.

      ‘Hi, Lizzie isn’t it?’ Cal quizzed as she stared at him in disbelief. Not only had he recognised her but had remembered her name. Lizzie wanted to pinch herself, if only to calm her nerves. Without her brain’s consent she became instantly mesmerised by seductive eyes melting her like chocolate. His alluring scent threw her senses sideways. It was hard not to be weakened by his tall, strong body with its screaming presence. A confidence