Page 27 of Summer at the Château
‘I miss Frank,’ a small voice said from the corner. ‘I wish he wasn’t dead. He promised we could live here forever.’
Justine smothered a gulp of guilt as she jumped up and ran across to Ferdie, pulling him into her arms and holding him tight. As he buried his tearful face into her shoulder, she bent and kissed the top of his head. She’d thought he was so engrossed playing farmers that he wouldn’t pay any attention to the conversation going on over his head. She should have known better.
Pixie’s quiet voice broke through her despair. ‘I’m sorry. We all miss Frank, but nothing, it seems, lasts forever.’
Justine looked up to ask her to leave, but Pixie was already walking away.
‘Fancy a cup of hot chocolate?’ Justine said, looking back down at Ferdie.
‘With marshmallows?’ Ferdie asked, looking up at her with a hopeful smile.
‘Just this once.’
‘Yes.’
Back in the cottage, she sat Ferdie down to watch his favourite Thomas the Tank Engine video while she went to the kitchen and mechanically began the process of making them both a hot chocolate. Stirring the hot milk and watching the squares of chocolate melt as she dropped them into the saucepan and swirled them around, she wondered why she’d been so naive as to expect the idyll she’d been living in for the past fourteen months to continue.
The life she’d built up for herself with Frank’s help was over. She was back to square one. Only this time the move would be upsetting not only for herself but also for Ferdie. He was settled at school and he loved living in the cottage. Changing home and school at the same time would be difficult for him – finding a new home in the same area would have to be her main goal.
Equally important, though, was earning enough money at the summer markets to give her a deposit and a couple of months’ rent in hand. She’d managed to save some money in the last year but not enough to last more than a few months. And so long as it didn’t rain on market days during the summer she knew her baskets would sell well, but rain kept the tourists away. She could sell the car Frank had given her, buy something smaller and cheaper to run and use the balance for living if she got desperate. And she always had the option of returning to live with her parents, who she knew would welcome her back.
Giving the hot chocolate a final stir, she poured the drink into two mugs before putting the saucepan in the sink to soak. Of course there was always the last-ditch option of telling Pixie the truth. Break the promise she’d made.
Justine pulled a face. There was no way she could do that. No, the best thing would be to stay out of Pixie Sampson’s way as much as possible while she was living here. Shouldn’t be too difficult. Three or four morning markets a week as summer progressed meant she would be out most days and Ferdie would be at school. Summer holidays might be more of a problem, Ferdie did like spending time playing outside the cottage, riding his trike up and down the drive. No point in worrying about the holidays at the moment, they were weeks away. She’d worry about the holidays when July arrived.
Reaching for the packet of marshmallows, she popped two on top of each mug before pulling her shoulders back determinedly and picking up the mugs. A promise was a promise, she’d have to be desperate to break it. And she hadn’t reached that stage yet.
* * *
Gwen was out on the terrace reading when a visibly upset Pixie flopped down on a chair next to her. ‘Well, that went well – not.’
Gwen gave her a concerned glance.
‘I’ve finally told Justine she has to vacate the cottage because the château is going on the market soon.’
‘Is she okay about that? How long did you give her?’
‘Until September. She was expecting it apparently, but that didn’t make it any easier, especially when Ferdie started to cry and said that he missed Frank.’ Pixie slumped back in her chair. ‘Frank had promised him he could live here forever. Honestly, Mum, I feel like I’m the villain in all this. What am I supposed to do? If I tell her she can stay and then nobody wants to buy the place with a sitting tenant, I’ll be stuck with a millstone of a property around my neck for who knows how long.’
‘It’s a difficult one,’ Gwen said. Before she could say more, Pixie spoke again.
‘Besides, I still don’t know the truth about her and Frank. I’d sort of hoped Justine would blurt the truth out about why she was here. Surely she must realise I need to know how she ended up living here rent-free at Frank’s insistence?’
‘Sounds like you’ll have the chance to get to know them better over summer – if you want to that is,’ Gwen added hurriedly as Pixie stared hard at her.
‘Not sure it wouldn’t make the situation even more difficult to deal with if I became friends with her. Come what may, the château is going on the market and the cottage needs to be empty when that happens. No. Best if I keep my distance, I think.’ Pixie placed her hands on the arms of her chair to push herself up.
‘Is that Frank’s ring you’re wearing?’ Gwen asked, surprised.
Pixie nodded. ’Would you believe, I found it upstairs after the builders had left this evening.’
Not having told Gwen about the out-of-focus photo with the image of Frank, she didn’t feel the need to explain about the noise and the weird breeze she’d felt rustling through the upstairs.
‘He told me he’d lost it but didn’t know where. Obviously realised it was over here and couldn’t tell me. How it ended up in the grate in the attic room is anybody’s guess.’ She stood up. ‘I’ll go and start dinner.’
While she scrubbed a couple of jacket potatoes and put them in the oven to bake before preparing a salad, Pixie thought about Ferdie. He looked such a sweet little boy, the kind of child she had always imagined she and Frank would have together. She had to admit to feeling a little warmer towards Justine too. She clearly adored Ferdie, but there was an air of apprehension hanging over her. Or was that just when she was around Pixie? She must know that Pixie had several questions she wanted answered – questions that would reveal her vulnerability, no doubt.
The most important question out of all of them though, was one she dreaded hearing the answer to. That question was the one she’d desperately wanted to ask the moment she’d learnt of Ferdie’s existence. Was he Frank’s son? Part of her was beginning to long for that to be true, although another part wasn’t sure how she’d cope if that did turn out to be the case.
