Hot Basque: A French Summer Novel 2 (24 page)

‘But why did she come to you? Why not one of the women?’

‘It never even crossed my mind. I was so hyped up wondering what to do, should I get her to Emergency, then of course that would involve the police, maybe she’d called the police already, should I ring Chadi, what a mess. Finally I managed to calm her down a bit, got some first aid stuff, cleaned her up, in the end it didn’t look too bad. Well, it looked awful, but I mean not bad enough to need stitches or anything. I asked her what he’d done exactly, there was this sort of line, a welt, across her face, it looked as though he’d hit her with something, not just a slap or a punch, but that just set her off again, crying and sobbing, she started to cling on to me, saying not to leave her, not to phone Chadi, she was terrified, was the door locked, all that stuff.’

‘Oh Antoine.’

Caroline pressed her hand against her mouth.

Antoine gave a crooked grin, held up his glass to the waiter for a refill.

‘Yeah. A real big mess. But here’s the thing
la rose
...’

His face fell.

‘It was nothing compared to the mess that followed.’

‘What do you mean?’

The waiter arrived and set down another glass in front of Antoine. Caroline shook her head ‘no’.

‘I made up a bed for her on the sofa. Then I gave her a
tisane
, and one of the sleeping pills I’d had the year before when I had this abscess–’

Caroline’s phone rang, making her jump. She was tempted to ignore it, was dying to know the end of the story, but she checked the screen to see who was calling.

‘Sorry, it’s Edward, do you mind?’

Antoine shook his head, stared into the depths of his drink.

‘Caroline.’

Edward’s voice sounded strange. Her heart gave a one, tiny lurch.

‘You’d better get back here. There’s been a bit of a crisis.’

‘What?’ She was on her feet.

‘What’s happened? Is it Joshua?’

‘No, everyone here is OK, we’ve just had a call from Margaret–’

‘Birdie. It’s Birdie, isn’t it?’

Caroline’s knees crumpled, she sat down again, heavily, unable to speak.

‘It’s not Birdie, it’s not Margaret. It’s Annabel. Caroline, just head back and I’ll explain.’

 

 

 

27 BIARRITZ, FRANCE. JUNE

 

Caroline pushed back the metal gate and hurried up the drive. She was out of breath from her rush up the hill from the cafe. Antoine had offered to take her but his bike was at the shop, she’d decided it would be faster to get there under her own steam.


Aie Aie Aie.
Your sister again.’

He’d done the one-handed ‘there’s a problem’ floppy wrist-shake before giving her a massive hug. She’d promised to call as soon as she could.

Tossing her bag onto a chair in the hall she hesitated. The house seemed to be empty. She checked the kitchen, the
salon
, the terrace.

‘Is that you Caro? We’re in here.’

She found them all in the library. Nadia was walking up and down holding the sleeping baby. Julian was slumped in an armchair, head in his hands. Jill, looking pale and tense was kneeling beside him. Edward was at the desk, clicking keys on his computer, frowning.

‘What’s happened? Has she had an accident?’

Caroline’s voice was shaky. She closed her eyes briefly, afraid of what she was going to hear.

When she opened them again, she saw that Nadia had distanced herself from the group and was now standing by the window, her back to the room, head bent, murmuring in Polish to the baby, who had just woken up.

She glanced at Jill, who shook her head slightly.

‘Somebody tell me.’

‘You’d better come and see for yourself.’

Edward pushed the chair back abruptly, stood up. His face was expressionless.

Looking at the computer screen Caroline didn’t understand what she was seeing. A page of newsprint, photos, headlines. Edward leaned forward, clicked again, enlarged one of the photos.

Caroline recoiled.

‘Annabel? Is it Annabel? Are you sure?’

‘Read what it says underneath.’

She could feel waves of suppressed anger coming off him, scanned the words frantically, then re-read the paragraph slowly.

The headline shouted:


Putting up the mitts at the Ritz!!’

It was a short article, only a few lines. But long enough to inform readers of The Daily Mail that the scene captured on camera had taken place in the elegant surroundings of the Ritz Hotel, where an unknown blonde had launched an unprovoked attack on Italian tycoon Claudio Argiro and his companion, as yet un-named. There had been a short scuffle, no serious injuries and Mr Argiro had not wished to involve the police. Members of the staff had been unavailable for comment.

Caroline stared at the photo again.

Was it possible that this woman with the wild hair and contorted features, this woman caught in mid-leap, raking her fingernails down the cheek of a stunned-looking man, was this her sister?

When she raised her head, no-one would meet her gaze. The scene in the study resembled a silent tableau. She turned back to the screen, re-read the article, absorbing every word, looked at the photo, at the awful image of Annabel, teeth pulled back in a snarl, eyes glittering like a madwoman.

She felt a flush mount to her face. Something moved inside her, a contraction in her stomach as though she was going to throw up, she wanted to leap to her feet, grab the nearest object and hurl it across the room. She had never felt so angry, boiling, seething with a stew of emotions that threatened to choke her. Pity for Julian, made to play the fool yet again, anguish for baby Joshua, mortification at seeing the MacDonald family’s dirty washing exposed to the public eye.

But most of all rage, pure rage that her sister had, once again, managed to spoil everything.

It was Jill who broke the tension. She got to her to her feet, a resolute look on her face, and started giving orders.

‘Nadia, what about Joshua’s feed? Isn’t it time? Can you sort that out in the kitchen, there’s a doll?’

Nadia fled.

‘Caro love, you’re going to have to be strong and ring your Auntie Margaret, she’s out of her mind with worry, isn’t she Eddie? Maybe make the call from your room, no? Eddie will go with you. Best do it quickly hey? Now Julian, I’d like you to come with me...’

As the door clicked shut behind them, Caroline could hear her murmuring something to Julian in a firm, gentle voice, her ‘Nurse Jill’ voice.

Finally she turned and looked at Edward.

 

***

 

‘That was the worst phone call I have ever had to make. Such lies! And the state the two of them were in, Margaret and Birdie, how could she do it Edward? How?’

She flung the phone on the bed and pressed her hands to her flaming face. She was tense and sweating.

Her aunt hadn’t known that Annabel was in London, hadn’t known that Julian and Joshua were in Biarritz. Margaret had sounded totally bewildered. Caroline had found herself inventing all sorts of excuses, glad that her aunt was hundreds of miles away and couldn’t see her niece’s scarlet cheeks as she paced the floor and told her lies.

‘It was all a last minute thing, Aunt Mags, Annabel had a dress fitting, Julian needed a break, you know how hard he’s been working, and of course Edward and I jumped at the chance of seeing Joshua, but it’s been such a rushed couple of days, I was going to give you a ring this evening, fill you in, I’m so sorry...’

Edward had been standing with his back to the room, looking out over the garden.

Turning, he saw her hunched shoulders and rigid body. He pushed his own feelings down deep, crossed the room and took her in his arms. She fell into him like a marathon runner falling into the finishing line. For a couple of minutes neither of them said anything.

Then, very gently, he unclasped her, held her at arm’s length. She raised her eyes to his. His face wore a look she had never seen before. Stern, uncompromising. An unfamiliar sensation took hold of her, her heart began to pound. She realised she was afraid.

When he finally spoke his voice was quiet.

‘You know that this is it, sweetheart, don’t you? She’s crossed the line. Whatever happens next, I don’t want you getting involved. It’ll probably be her first reaction, when she comes to hers senses, run to big sister the same way she always does. But this time Caroline–’ his voice dropped, frightening her even more, ‘this time, no excuses. You have to stand firm. I’ll handle it from now on. Do you understand? Do you promise?’

Caroline’s eyes filled with tears. This was a side of her man she had rarely glimpsed. Only once before, as far as she could remember, when there had been a problem at work with a colleague. He was usually so sweet and easy-going, so in control of his temper. Of course, like any couple, the two of them had had their rows but they were like summer lightning, over in a flash. One or the other would start laughing and the next minute they would be in each other’s arms.

Except of course, that first time, last summer. She shuddered remembering the awful fight they had had, her flight from the villa, thinking she had lost him forever. Again, all because of Annabel.

‘Caroline?’

Silently, she nodded.

Edward breathed a sigh of relief, pulled her close once more.

He knew how much it cost her to turn her back on her baby sister, in spite of all the hurt she had caused. It was the old maxim of blood being thicker than water, though sometimes he had a hard job believing both sisters shared the same blood. But something had snapped inside him that morning, when Margaret had phoned, breathless, her voice unsteady. She had read out the article to him over the phone, struggling for calm, and as he listened he had felt a rush of fury so overwhelming he barely managed to find the words of reassurance she so desperately needed to hear.

It was one of their neighbours in Ravensfield who had informed them, not without a certain smug satisfaction, that Margaret’s niece had made the front page of The Daily Mail. Birdie had rushed to the car and driven into the village to pick up a copy of the paper and the two of them had read the article with disbelief.

‘But who is this man, Edward, do you know?’ Margaret had asked, ‘And why did Annabel attack him?’

Edward was used to thinking on his feet. But for a second he froze before opening his mouth and telling them a cock and bull story about the man being a business rival of Julian’s.

‘Annabel must have run into him, he probably said something insulting, and she lost her temper. You know what she’s like. Nothing to worry about, pity the press happened to be there, but it will all blow over, you know what they say, today’s news is tomorrow’s fish and chip paper.’

It was the lamest possible invention, but all he could come up with. And better than telling Margaret that her niece was having an affair behind her husband’s back at the same time as she was planning a ‘Hello’ wedding with him in Acapulco.

Annabel was a loose cannon. She had to be stopped. And now that Caroline was on his side, had made her promise, he knew there was only one person at the moment capable of cleaning up all this mess.

At least, as much of it as he could.

 

***

 

Jill was in the kitchen making sandwiches when Caroline went downstairs again. She’d just taken a tray up to Julian, who had gone to his room saying he’d like some time on his own.

Nadia was in the nursery with Joshua, insisting she didn’t want anything to eat at the moment, she was happy to stay there with the baby. Jill had nodded, given her a quick squeeze and left.

‘I’m going to go up and see how Jules is doing,’ said Edward, following Caroline into the kitchen.

Jill paused in her sandwich making.

‘Maybe later, Eddie, hey? I really think the man’s so knocked back he just needs to let his head cool off a bit. You know, give him a chance to absorb it all. It’s one thing to suspect your wife is having an affair and another to get a bloody great photo smacked in your gob. As we say in my family.’

‘I think she’s right,’ said Caroline. ‘He’s been under so much stress these last few weeks, you only had to look at him when he arrived to know he was down to the bare bones. And now this, he needs to let it sink in. It’s almost like finding out someone’s died. What did he say to you, Jill?’

‘Poor guy was practically choking. He just kept repeating ‘What about Joshua, what about Joshua?’ I just kept repeating stuff too, saying the first things that came into my head, mainly how he should try to relax, let himself go with the current for the moment, give himself time to come to terms with what he’s just found out, plenty of time to make important decisions later etc etc etc.’

Edward put his arm round Jill’s shoulders.

‘You’re priceless, you know that? Especially when you’ve got–’

Over Jill’s shoulder, his eyes met Caroline’s.

‘Troubles of my own, you mean?’

Jill gave a short laugh.

‘They’re nothing compared to what Julian’s going through. And Caro. All of you. Nothing like a real drama to put things in perspective. I’d been quite enjoying my little pity-party till everything kicked off this morning.’

Her face was flushed, her hand shaking as she recommenced piling ham and tomatoes on to large slices of farmhouse bread.

‘You know what,’ said Edward, ‘I’m going to grab one of those amazing sandwiches and eat it in the garden. There’s stuff I need to do. Where did I put my phone?’

Left alone in the kitchen, Caroline and Jill looked at each other.

‘Are you feeling–’

‘Are you managing to–’

They both spoke at once, then smiled. Small smiles. Smiles that said ‘we need to talk’.

Caroline went to the fridge pulled out a bottle and held it up with an enquiring look.

‘I thought you’d never ask.’

Jill slumped into a chair and stared at the pile of sandwiches.

‘Jeez Caro, I’m really, really sorry.’

‘My faithful friend, I’m really, really sorry too. You were brilliant just now. We were all knocked for six. I still can’t get my head round it, even though I’ve seen the photo.’

‘I almost didn’t recognise her. Course, I’ve only met her couple of times. Mind you, with everything I’ve heard about her, I’m not looking for a closer acquaintance. Oh poor you. And poor Jules, his face...’

‘Yes. He’s the one we need to worry about. And Margaret and Birdie. Little sister doesn’t get to me as much as she used to. All that stuff with Liam, that’s when I really felt as though she’d punched me in the stomach. It was a good learning experience. And of course I had Nurse Jill to talk me through it.’

She reached across and touched her glass to Jill’s.

‘Coming after that scene last night at the restaurant...’

Jill lowered her eyes. Caroline ploughed on.

‘It’s like there’s some malevolent deity out to get us. One who can’t stand to see happy earthlings. What’s that wicked god’s name, Loki, up there pulling strings and creating mayhem. Either that or else Annabel and that Melodie woman have got some sort of psychic connection. Let’s try a bit of mass hysteria, Melodie darling, I’ll go bananas in the Ritz, you do the mad monkey in Biarritz. Ritz, Biarritz. There is a connection. A crazy woman connection.’

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