Page 40 of Summer at the Château
‘A little. You mentioned a couple of ulterior motives earlier?’
‘I did,’ Charlie sighed. ‘I have a feeling my dad is building up to have a serious talk about the future with me, and I’d rather he didn’t yet. So coming here tonight is also serving a purpose as an avoidance tactic.’ He took a drink of wine. ‘Because I don’t have any answers to give him, which will only make him crosser and crosser. It’s not that I don’t have plans, I just have to work out how to put them in place. So I’m staying out of his way as much as possible.’
‘What do you do?’ Justine asked.
‘Don’t hate me, but I’m a qualified estate agent. Rather, I was until I was made redundant a few weeks ago. Now I fancy a complete change of direction – something I know Dad will not agree with. I want to cook.’
‘Why is that a problem? Gus has been eating your food since he arrived, he knows how good it is.’
‘But his son cooking for a living will not be a good career move in his eyes. You see, I don’t have aspirations to be a three-star Michelin chef, I want to cook good food in an ordinary place, maybe even teach people how to do it themselves.’ Charlie shrugged. ‘I know once I’ve worked out a business plan and Dad can see I’ve thought it through, he’ll be supportive. Mum’s on my side already, so between us we’ll talk him round.’
‘I think Pixie will help too, won’t she?’
Charlie nodded. ‘I’m hoping she’ll be part of my support group. Anyway, enough about me. I want to know about you. You’re a bit of a mysterious woman. You’re French, but you don’t have a French surname, you speak English like a native, nobody knows why Frank gave you the cottage to live in and you make baskets for a living. Very nice baskets too, I must add.’
‘Did you say something about dessert? We’ve both finished our main course,’ Justine said, playing for time. She had no intention of lying to Charlie, but she couldn’t tell him the whole truther either.
‘Dessert, yes,’ and Charlie collected the plates and went over to the kitchen, returning to the table a minute later with a miniature strawberry pavlova each.
‘Mmm,’ Justine said, picking up the spoon and small fork Charlie had placed on each plate, breaking into the meringue and taking a bite. ‘There’s nothing mysterious about me,’ she said, looking at Charlie, knowing he was waiting for her answer. ‘But I daresay people have made up their own stories. My mother is French, my father is English and I actually speak Spanish as well. As for the cottage, I met Frank when I was in desperate need of somewhere to live and he simply offered me this place. End of story.’ Justine scooped another mouthful of strawberries and meringue before giving Charlie a look that she hoped would tell him that particular subject was now closed. ‘As for the basket making, it was a hobby that I’ve managed to turn into a business.’
‘How do you cope with Ferdie and doing the markets?’
‘Most of the regular markets are mornings only, so I drop Ferdie at school and head off. Depending where it is, I can be a bit late setting up, but…’ Justine shrugged. ‘And then I’m back at the school gate at midday to meet Ferdie. If I have a problem, I have a good friend, Carole, who will meet Ferdie for me. School holidays can be a bit of a problem, but usually things sort themselves out.’
‘If you need any help this summer, don’t forget I’m here and happy to be roped in as childminder.’
‘Thanks.’ Justine smiled at him. ‘I’ll remember.’
Charlie left not long after and Justine closed the cottage door behind him thoughtfully. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Charlie planning on staying around for the summer. He and Ferdie got on so well and it was good for Ferdie to have a man in his life as a role model. Charlie was a nice man, too. One of the nicest she’d met for years. She liked Charlie and she sensed that he liked her as well – tonight’s unexpected supper had shown her that – and under different circumstances maybe they could have become more than the friends they were already becoming. But if the secret that stood between herself and Pixie ever became general knowledge to Pixie and Charlie’s family, knowing the truth would surely change the friendship between herself and Charlie forever.
From now on, she’d be careful to keep Charlie at arm’s-length. She remembered him flexing his arm muscles earlier and pushed the thought he was seriously fit away. Being more than friends with Charlie was a complication in her life she didn’t need.
27
The day of the party, Pixie and Gus spent several hours together sorting out decorative lights for the evening. Gus climbed up and down the stepladder, threading strings of silver fairy lights through the camellia trees nearest the château and around several of the shrubs. Another string was wound around the trunk of the big chestnut tree near the top of the drive. Yet another long string of golden lights was fixed to the château wall the terrace ran along. At the front entrance, Pixie wound a string of lights around each of the granite urns, while Gus fixed a string of twinkling white lights around the door portal.
Charlie spent the afternoon in the kitchen, making dough and preparing the pizzas. In the fridge, chocolate brandy mousses and creamy lemon syllabubs stood alongside a bowl of raspberries for the individual meringue nests that were in an airtight tin in the larder.
Pixie had telephoned Fern the day before, inviting her, Scott and Anouk. ‘And perhaps you’d like to bring your friends, Belinda and Alain? It would be nice to finally meet them.’ She paused before continuing. ‘I was wondering about inviting Jean-Yves and his wife. Do you think he would like to come?’
‘Why wouldn’t he? But he doesn’t have a wife. She died a few years ago.’
‘Thanks for telling me. I would have hated to upset him.’
After putting the phone down from Fern, Pixie telephoned Jean-Yves.
‘I realise it’s short notice, but it would be lovely if you were free,’ she’d said. ‘My way of thanking you for the other day. There will be thirteen of us and two little ones if you can come, so not a big party.’
‘I’d love to come, thank you for the invitation.’
‘If you’d like to bring anyone, Jade, your daughter, please do. See you tomorrow about eight o’clock.’
Once Charlie was happy with the food side of things, he created a playlist on Pixie’s laptop of French music and sultry jazz. This was playing in the early evening as Charlie fired up the pizza oven and Sarah, Gwen and Pixie ferried things to the table. By seven thirty, everything was in place and Annabelle and Mimi promised to keep an eye on things with Gus while the others went and smartened up.
By five to eight, the lights at the entrance were switched on in a welcoming gesture, even though it was still quite light, and everyone was out on the terrace, Charlie had placed the first of many pizzas in the oven and Gus was opening a bottle of champagne.
Justine and Ferdie walked across from the cottage, Justine carrying one of her small baskets with a bottle of champagne inside. Ferdie was carrying a bag and excitedly told everyone, ‘My jim-jams are in here. I’m sleeping with Mimi tonight, but then Charlie is going to carry me home.’
