Page 46 of Summer at the Château
‘The morning you left Justine and I had a major fallout. I accused her of having an affair with Frank. She was furious, so furious that she yelled the truth at me. She’s his daughter. Ferdie is Frank’s grandson.’ Pixie’s voice trembled and died away.
‘Ah.’
‘Charlie wasn’t remotely surprised and you don’t sound it either.’
‘To be truthful, I’m not. So now instead of being furious with Frank for installing his mistress and love child in the cottage, you can relax and get to know his daughter and grandson,’ Gwen said, trying to inject a note of optimism into her voice.
‘It might have happened a decade or two ago, but I can’t accept their presence just like that. I have so many questions. Frank was still unfaithful to me. I need to know how long the affair went on for, but most of all I need to know the name of the woman and whether I knew her.’
‘Have you asked Justine?’
‘No. I haven’t seen her. I think we’re both practising avoidance techniques.’
‘Well, as you’re the one who wants answers, I think you’re going to have to be the one to contrive a meeting.’
Pixie concentrated on her driving for a few moments. ‘The thing is, Mum, whilst I have this need to know, I am also so scared. What if it was a friend? Or even some woman he just picked up?’
‘I hope for Justine’s sake it was a friend, or, at the very least, a name you recognise,’ Gwen said quietly. ‘But what you have to remember – none of it was Justine’s fault. You can’t hold her responsible for being born. She has, after all, given Frank, and you, a grandson.’
Pixie sighed. ‘You’re right. Tomorrow while Ferdie is at school, I will talk to Justine. But first, tonight, I need to talk to you and Charlie about a dream I had recently – and what I do about it.’
Gwen looked at her as a little flame of hope sprang up. Was Pixie going to change her mind and keep the château as a second home after all?
* * *
Back at the château, Pixie went straight upstairs and, sitting in her favourite chair by the window overlooking the driveway, opened her laptop. There was no way she could concentrate on writing at the moment, but she had some serious thinking and researching to do before she put her idea to Gwen and Charlie at suppertime.
By the time Charlie shouted up the stairs that supper was ready, Pixie was ready to talk about her idea.
Charlie had prepared a simple supper of sauté potatoes with a Spanish omelette and salad, followed by stewed apple topped with fromage frais. He poured a glass of wine at each place setting before returning to the kitchen to fetch the omelette, neatly cut into three portions. ‘Right, help yourself to everything,’ he said, then glanced at Pixie. ‘There is something I need to tell you.’
Pixie gave him a worried look. ‘Nothing wrong is there? You’re not on the move again, are you?’
‘No. I’m planning on taking Justine and Ferdie out for the afternoon this Sunday.’
‘And you can’t fit them both on the bike, so you would like to borrow my car?’
Charlie smiled. ‘I was hoping you might offer, but we can go in Justine’s. Knowing how upset you’ve been, learning about Justine and Ferdie, I hope you don’t feel that I’m consorting with the enemy.’ He glanced at Pixie anxiously before adding quietly, ‘I like Justine a lot.’
‘I’m still getting my head around who they both are. If I’d met Justine under different circumstances, I’m sure we would have liked each other from the beginning. Knowing the truth has changed things, no doubt about it,’ Pixie said. ‘In fact, I wanted to talk to you both about that this evening. Hear your opinions on something.’ She picked up her wine glass and took a sip. ‘You’re welcome to take my car for the outing if you would like to.’
‘Thanks.’ Charlie looked at her curiously, waiting for her to continue.
‘Let’s eat first, serious talk can keep for afterwards,’ Pixie said.
They were all reaching for their dessert when Pixie started to speak again. ‘Since we came to the château at Easter, I’ve had some funny experiences here. This for instance.’ She reached into her pocket and placed the out-of-focus photo on the table, which Charlie picked up. ‘Do you see what I see in there?’
‘I can see the outline of a man holding his arms out – is that what you see?’
Pixie nodded. ‘To me that is Frank. There’s more strange things. Several times, when I’ve been in my writing room, there’s been a warm breeze ruffling my hair, nothing else in the room is disturbed. And then, after the party, I dreamt Frank was in bed with me. We were cuddled together like we used to and he was asking me not to sell the château because it could become the family home we’d always wanted. In the dream, I promised him I wouldn’t sell. And then I woke up.’ Pixie took a self-conscious sip of her wine. ‘I know it all sounds a bit airy-fairy but…’ she shrugged. ‘Scott asked if there was a château ghost because the building is so old. I’m pretty sure there isn’t, but I’m totally convinced that Frank’s spirit is here. Either that, or I’m going mad.’
‘No, I don’t think you’re going mad,’ Gwen said quietly. ‘Some things just can’t be explained away logically. The question now though is; are you going to keep the promise you made in your dream and not sell the château? And if so, what does that mean for you in the future?’
Pixie hesitated, not sure how her next words would be received. ‘Firstly, it means that I will have no reason to evict Justine and Ferdie. They will be able to remain in the cottage like Frank planned. Secondly, and this depends on how you two react to my tentative ideas.’ She turned to Charlie. ‘You’ve told me you want to cook for a living. How about becoming my partner and running this place as a retreat with me? We could run courses for writers, artists, photographers and would-be cooks? And, of course, you’d be in charge of all meals.’
‘My tentative answer is a very firm, yes please,’ Charlie said without hesitation.
‘What about you, Mum? How do you feel about moving here permanently and being a part of Château Quiltu Retreat?’
