What Happens at the Beach... (19 page)

‘Well thanks, Dominique, that's great news. As soon as the rain stops I'll be down to collect it.'

‘And you'll tell me what happened?'

‘Of course I will.' Natalie hesitated for a second. ‘But the short answer is that nothing happened. Okay?'

‘Good girl. Alain said Philippe wasn't smiling. Ciao.'

Natalie put the phone down and related the good news to her grandmother, who was delighted. ‘So, now that that's all sorted, what're your plans for today? Weren't you and your Mark supposed to be going off for the day, Cathar hunting?'

Natalie nodded. ‘Yes, but with the weather like this, I'm not so sure. I'll go up to the chateau at nine o'clock and see what he says.'

By the time Natalie had walked the hundred metres to the chateau, her legs and feet were soaked. She had deliberately put on a pair of flip-flops and carried her only other pair of sandals with her, protected under her grandfather's huge fishing umbrella. As she reached the gravelled area around the old fountain she saw Hortense's sports car still parked there and her heart sank. Seconds later she realised that the top was still down and the car was totally flooded. The foot wells were awash with water and the bucket seats were living up to their name. There was little doubt that the leather and the carpet would take a good long time to dry out, assuming the rain ever stopped, and it showed no sign of abating for now. Natalie's mood improved immensely as a result and she was smiling as she walked round to the back door. The kitchen door was closed so she knocked and waited outside until Madame Lenoir came to open it.

‘Good morning, Natalie, come in, come in.' The housekeeper gave her a welcoming smile.

Inside, Natalie dumped the umbrella, sat down and changed into her dry shoes, propping her flip-flops against the wall to dry out. She looked round for Mark or Barney, but there was no sign of man or dog. She caught Madame Lenoir's eye. ‘Mark?'

‘He's gone for a run.' The housekeeper's expression made clear just what she thought of anybody who was crazy enough to want to do that on a day like this. ‘And he's taken the dog with him.'

Natalie nodded. Madame Lenoir went over to the stove. ‘I've made a pot of coffee. Would you like a cup while you're waiting?'

Natalie accepted willingly and Madame Lenoir joined her. Soon they were chatting amicably. After a while, as the housekeeper was being so friendly, Natalie dared to ask the question that interested her very much. ‘Erm, and Hortense…? Did she go out for a run as well?'

‘Her, run?' Madame Lenoir erupted into a fit of laughter. ‘Somehow I don't think she takes a lot of exercise.' She glanced over her shoulder at the back door and lowered her voice. ‘At least not standing up, anyway.'

‘So, is she still upstairs?' Natalie preferred not to think of Hortense's horizontal sporting habits.

Madame Lenoir shook her head. ‘No, she left yesterday. Mark drove her to the station to catch a train to Barcelona. Something about a party, I think.' She caught Natalie's eye, clearly deciding that she could talk freely to her as one member of staff to another. ‘I've a feeling Mark was supposed to go with her, but when I saw them yesterday morning it was pretty clear they'd had a big argument.' She raised her eyebrows. ‘Goodness knows what it was about.'

Natalie was prevented from probing further by the sound of footsteps outside the door. The handle turned and Barney pushed his way in, followed by Mark. Both of them were soaking wet. Natalie and Madame Lenoir had the same thought at the same moment and both leapt for the towel hanging on the back of the door. The housekeeper got there first, grabbed it and threw herself in a despairing dive towards the dog, just as he stopped and hunched his shoulders, ready to shake himself. Mercifully, he was distracted by the sight of his old friend Natalie, and Madame Lenoir had time to land on him with the towel before doggy water could coat everything in the kitchen. She set about drying him while Mark looked on in mild amusement. Natalie surveyed the water streaming off Mark and wondered if she should maybe leap on him with a towel as well. The idea had considerable appeal, but she contented herself with passing him a fresh towel that Madame Lenoir had already laid out in readiness on top of the stove.

He took the towel and rubbed his face and hair. He then clearly considered peeling off his T-shirt, but thought better of it and headed for the door, leaving Natalie, and quite possibly Madame Lenoir, feeling rather disappointed. Once Madame Lenoir was satisfied that Barney was dry enough not to present an immediate environmental health hazard, she released him and he trotted over to greet Natalie, tail wagging furiously. He was still very damp so she pulled her shorts up as he rubbed against her. Her legs would dry out much faster than her cotton shorts.

‘Hello, handsome. Been for a good walk?' He nuzzled her with his nose and sat down beside her, lifting a paw towards her lap. She took it in one hand, while dissuading him from climbing onto her with the other.

‘Here.' Madame Lenoir produced a clean towel and passed it across to Natalie. ‘Use this to protect yourself.'

Natalie leant down and set about rubbing the dog down with the new towel until he was little more than slightly damp. The kitchen by now reeked of wet dog, but at least he was a very clean dog.

Five minutes later, Mark returned, now showered and changed into shorts and a fresh T-shirt, this time advertising a triathlon that had taken place in Geneva a year earlier. He reached for the coffee pot and glanced across at Natalie.

‘Coffee, Natalie?'

She shook her head and pointed to her half-finished cup. ‘No, thanks. Madame Lenoir and I have already had ours.'

He came over and sat down opposite her at the rustic old table that strangely didn't look out of place in the midst of all the modern kitchen units. The dog padded across to greet him and then returned to Natalie and she felt his damp body settle on the floor against her legs. Mark picked up the remote control and switched on the TV for the local news. Evidently the whole of this part of France had been badly affected by the rain, resulting in disastrous flooding in a number of areas and even three reported deaths. Footage of caravans being washed down rivers and roads under water told the same sad story all over the place.

‘Not an ideal day for our field trip.' He took a mouthful of coffee.

Natalie shook her head. ‘Most definitely not. To be honest, I don't think it's even a day for plan B.' Plan B was the itinerary they had drawn up involving places where they would be sheltered from the rain. ‘Although I'm sure your car could get through most things, it's probably not the best of ideas to drive anywhere today.'

Mark nodded. ‘Definitely not.' He glanced across at her. ‘But there's still loads of historical stuff you could help me with here if you've got time.'

Natalie nodded. ‘Absolutely. Where do we start?'

‘I've been doing my homework like a good little boy.' He grinned. ‘And I keep reading a lot about Rennes le Chateau. Do you know that area?'

Natalie smiled back at him. ‘There's quite a bit to tell about that little village. Somehow I feel sure it should figure in your book.'

As it turned out, Natalie knew more than enough about the subject to keep them occupied for most of the morning. She was very impressed that he had, indeed, done quite a lot of reading and had retained a considerable amount of what he had learnt. As she and he carried on their academic discussion, a little part of the back of her mind was reflecting that if he had spent so many hours reading, it was unlikely he and Hortense would have been able to spend much time indulging her propensity for horizontal sports. She felt rather pleased about that.

At eleven o'clock, they stopped for a cup of tea. The two of them stood side by side by the biggest window looking out into the deluge. The rain was still torrential and the beach and the sea were invisible from the windows. Thoughts of the beach reminded Natalie that she still hadn't told Mark the full story of what had happened on Philippe's yacht. She took a mouthful of tea and told him everything. Although he had expressed disinterest in her affairs, she knew, deep down, that his opinion of her meant a lot to her, so she felt she needed to set the record straight. He listened intently, right through to the end.

‘Sounds like a great day out, right up to the swimming home thing. You should have given me a call. I'm sure I could have organised a boat to come and get you.'

Natalie shook her head. ‘Thanks, Mark, but I just didn't think about phoning anybody. Looking back on it, I'm sure Alain at the café would have been able to find a boat, but I wasn't thinking straight.' She hesitated. ‘Besides, you would have had your hands full with Hortense.' Having said it, she rather regretted her choice of words, but he didn't seem to notice.

‘It would have been fine. Anyway, I'm pleased to see you've recovered from your big swim. You looked exhausted when I saw you.'

Natalie nodded. ‘I was, and you were very kind to help me, Mark. That reminds me; I washed your T-shirt and meant to bring it back to you this morning, but it's still a bit damp. I'll let you have it tomorrow.' He made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

‘I told you, hang on to it.'

Natalie grinned. ‘Thanks, but it's a bit big for me. I haven't got your shoulders or your chest muscles.' Just for a second she caught his eyes on her body and thought he might be going to make some remark, but he didn't. Instead, he returned his attention to his tea. She took a sip of tea herself and then, a few moments later, he looked up. Clearly, he also had something he wanted to say.

‘Look, Natalie, I've been trying to find the right moment to apologise to you for bringing Hortense down to the restaurant the other night. She behaved terribly, especially towards you. I'm really sorry. I've been meaning to try our local restaurant for some time now, but I don't really like eating out on my own, so I seized the opportunity as she was here. I'm afraid, with hindsight, it wasn't such a good idea. For some reason she seemed to have it in for you. I don't know what that was all about.'

Natalie kept smiling. She had a very good idea what had caused Hortense to be so spiteful, but she didn't mention it. ‘Don't worry about it one bit. Customers come in all shapes and sizes. Besides, only half of your table was grumpy. The other half was very considerate.'

‘It's very nice of you to say so, but, anyway, Natalie, I'm sorry.'

‘It's fine, honestly. Besides…' Natalie pointed out of the window. ‘Divine retribution would appear to have paid her back in kind for saying the mineral water tasted funny.' She pointed out of the window, over to the left, where Hortense's car was rapidly taking on the appearance of a swimming pool. ‘With hindsight, she might have done well to close the roof of her car.'

He followed her eyes and did a double-take. ‘I haven't been out the front of the house for a while. I just come and go through the kitchen door these days. I hadn't realised.' His face split into a grin and then he started laughing. Before long, Natalie joined in and even the dog, from their feet, started thumping his tail on the wooden floor, uncertain what was going on, but keen to join in. After a while Mark collected himself. ‘She didn't even leave me her keys, so there's nothing I can do about it now.' He shook his head ruefully. ‘I'm afraid that's not just going to give her a wet bum next time she gets in it; it's going to cost a lot of money. I seem to remember from a Porsche I used to have that one of the main electrical control boxes is under the driver's seat. And electrics and water don't mix.'

‘What a pity.' Natalie tried to adopt a sympathetic air. ‘Is she away for long?'

‘I have no idea.' Mark looked across at her again. ‘She went to Barcelona for a friend's party. I was supposed to go as well, but I decided I didn't want to. The party was last night, but I'm sure she won't be travelling back today with all this rain. Who knows?' He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Well, as far as the car's concerned, the damage is done now.'

Natalie decided to ask the question she had been dying to ask for two days now. ‘Um, Mark, if you don't mind me asking, who is she, Hortense?'

He didn't look her in the eye as he answered. Instead, he kept his attention on the car outside the window. ‘She's an old friend of my wife.'

Natalie's jollity disappeared in a flash. ‘Oh, I see.' In fact, she didn't see at all, but she had no idea how to ask for more clarification. The fact that he was married had come as a hammer blow, just as she was coming round to thinking that the threat of Hortense wasn't as serious as she had first thought. But what did that make Hortense, and what did that mean to her? Fighting the desire to start bombarding him with questions, she did her best to make her voice sound normal as she reverted to business.

‘Do you think the roads will be clear enough for us to go off on our tour tomorrow or will you be here waiting for Hortense?'

He shook his head. ‘I won't bother waiting around. She can call the local garage and they'll sort her out. If the rain stops and the roads are clear, let's make a start in the morning. Maybe try Rennes le Chateau first?'

The rain stopped as abruptly as it had started not long after lunch. Colette had retired to her bedroom for her afternoon nap and Natalie was working on her computer when she suddenly became aware of the silence outside. She got up and opened the windows, pushing the shutters back on either side of the opening, allowing light and fresh air to flood into the room. Although the rain had stopped, all around she could hear water dripping off trees, gutters and from the trellis onto the terrace. The sky was no longer a uniform grey colour and there was even a glimpse of blue to be had between the clouds. She gave a sigh of relief, delighted the gloomy weather looked like blowing over. The change in the weather, however, did nothing to relieve the feeling of gloom that had settled on her after her discovery that Mark was married.