Dangerous Waters, page 16
He gave her a hard stare with the blue eyes so like Marcus’s, but yet so different.
‘Morning. Shall we get straight down to business? Busy day,’ he said abruptly.
‘Er, yes. Please come in, Dan,’ she said, leading him into the sitting room. He examined the cupboard and tables critically but made no comment, his face remaining inscrutable. She then showed him the dining room furniture and that in the bedrooms, all except the main bedroom.
Everything was thoroughly looked over before they returned downstairs.
‘It’s all solid, well made stuff and there’s no sign of woodworm. So I’m prepared to make you an offer for the lot,’ Dan said before naming a figure which, though not large, was certainly not to be sneezed at, she thought.
She led the way into the kitchen in order to offer him a coffee when Dan noticed the dresser.
‘Is this for sale as well? I’d certainly be interested in buying it if it is. It’s a Le Mesurier, isn’t it?’ He looked animated for the first time since his arrival.
‘I’m afraid it’s not for sale but you’re right, it’s a Le Mesurier. It’s my favourite piece and has sentimental value for me.’
‘We’d be talking thousands if you were to sell,’ he said, giving it a covetous look.
‘It’s still not for sale. But thanks for your interest. I will accept your offer on the other furniture, though.’ She was feeling increasingly uncomfortable and was relieved when he refused her offer of coffee.
‘I’ll bring my van tomorrow, if that’s all right? And I pay in cash.’
He looked around the shabby kitchen.
‘You staying on here, then?’
‘Yes, I’ve got builders starting soon, which is why I’m having a clear out.’
‘Aren’t you the girl whose parents died in that boating accident some years ago?’
Again that intense stare unnerved her.
‘Yes, I am.’
‘It was said that you didn’t remember what happened. That true?’
‘Um, yes. The doctors called it traumatic amnesia.’
‘Sometimes it’s best not to remember bad things that happen. What you don’t know can’t hurt you. Isn’t that right?’
‘Suppose so. Er, if we’ve finished, Dan, I have things I have to do.’
Nodding, he confirmed that he’d be back on Wednesday about twelve before leaving a relieved Jeanne to make a much needed cup of coffee for herself.
What was it that had made her so edgy with Dan? she wondered, sipping her coffee. He hadn’t actually been threatening in his behaviour, just abrupt to the point of rudeness, but somehow there was an air of menace… She shivered. It was almost impossible to think of him as Marcus’s brother in spite of some physical similarity.
This thought prompted her to phone Marcus.
‘Hi, it’s me. Am I interrupting anything important?’
‘No, not at all. I’m off to lunch in a minute. And it’s always good to hear from you,’ he said warmly.
‘I thought I’d let you know that Dan’s just been round and has agreed to buy all the furniture I’m selling. So that’s a relief.’
‘What’s he paying you?’
Jeanne told him and he seemed to think it was fair, though not overgenerous.
‘Still, he didn’t rip you off so I’m glad about that.’
‘I couldn’t help noticing the scar on his face. Has he had an accident?’
He laughed shortly, ‘No, he got in a fight when he was seventeen and high on drugs and someone cut him with a broken bottle. He was in Morocco with some mates and didn’t get decent medical help so the wound failed to heal properly, leaving that nasty scar. He didn’t seem too bothered, made him look like the tough guy he wanted to be. Hey! You don’t fancy him do you?’
‘Oh, no, definitely not. Don’t be silly! To be honest, I found him a bit rude. But please don’t tell him or he might back out of the deal.’
‘No worries on that score! We hardly speak. Now, how about coming out to dinner with me on Friday? We could go to Christie’s. Might be warm enough to sit out on the balcony.’
‘Lovely, thanks. I’d like that. Bye for now.’
Jeanne was thoughtful after her call to Marcus. She now realised why she had felt the way she had with Dan. It wasn’t just the scar that had unnerved her. It had been his eyes. Although not an expert on drug use, she had seen the signs at university. She was convinced that Dan was still a drug user and, with his history, he was definitely not to be trusted. She’d prefer not to have anything more to do with him. It was a relief to know that she wouldn’t have to, once he’d paid for the furniture.
chapter eighteen
The next few days passed quickly and the furniture had been duly collected by Dan and his assistant without any mishap. Jeanne had kept out of their way as much as possible and Dan had barely acknowledged her, which was a relief. It had been very satisfying to pocket the wad of cash he had thrust at her once all had been loaded up and she had made tracks to the bank as soon they left.
The celebratory meal with the Ogiers had been a chance to relax and Peter had generously opened a bottle of champagne.
‘It’s not every day we get a chance to dine with a famous author!’ had been his comment and even though they all knew that fame might still evade her, it was a happy thought and Jeanne was warmed by their generosity.
Jeanne made the most of the quiet time left, working on the book for several hours a day. She pored over library books and surfed the internet for background information. She put in motion the search for details of her ancestors, the Parisian restaurateurs. She had come across websites used for tracing family trees in the UK and found that there were similar ones in France, albeit in French. Naturellement! Not her strong point! She heaved a sigh as she scanned the pages of a website, wishing that she had paid more attention in her French classes at school. Her starting point was her great-great –grandmother from Normandy and when it looked as if she had found some possible connections she printed off the pages to discuss with Molly.
If the worst came to the worst she could always pop over to France, specifically Paris, for a more hands on approach. It would provide extra colour to her story if she could see where her family had lived and worked. And there was always Le Shopping! – subject to a generous advance, she smiled to herself.
On Thursday she received the quote and detailed plan for the proposed kitchen. Jeanne loved the design. The warm, buttermilk painted units would, she felt, make the kitchen look light and bright without losing the homely look of the cottage – perfect with the oak and granite worktops. Colette would definitely be jealous! The price was less perfect, being on the edge of her budget. Still, as the estate agent had said, quality counts, so she lost no time in confirming her order before settling down to work.
On Friday morning she had a call from Colette.
‘Hi, Jeanne. I finally managed to talk to my boss last night and he’s agreed to let me have two weeks unpaid leave from the end of June. Luckily no-one’s off just then. And Nick’s happy to let us use his kitchen with the proviso that he gets to eat the fruits of our labours. All right with you?’
‘Yes, that’s great. And I think it’s good that Nick will be our official taster. He’s likely to be more objective than we are! By the way, where does he live?’
‘At Bordeaux. It was our parents' cottage and Nick moved in after dad died. It was left to both of us but it made sense for Nick to buy me out, being so close to his business.’
‘Well, it’ll be handy for the supermarket at The Bridge when I do the mountain of shopping that’ll be needed. Bit of a trek from here, mind. Have we got to promote the hotel as recompense for depriving them of their up and coming chef?’
‘Let’s just say that they wouldn’t be averse to some free publicity, but they’re not making it a condition of my leave. I’ve been thinking, Jeanne, perhaps I should have a look at the recipes now so that I know what to expect.’
‘Sure, that’s a good idea. I’ll print off copies and have them ready later today. I could pop them in to you as I’m coming in to town tonight with Marcus.’
All the recipes were now on the computer in English and easy to print off. The original handwritten recipes were safely stored in plastic folders and one of Jeanne’s ideas was to include a few facsimiles of the originals in the book to add more interest. There would also be photos of her grandmother, great-great-grandmother and any more she could trace. Wilhelm’s photo would naturally also be included.
After a day spent researching Jeanne was looking forward to an evening out with Marcus. As she changed into a linen skirt and a white top, setting off her tan, she asked herself what she was going to do about him. He had made it clear he was pretty keen on her but she had yet to feel a ‘spark’. If the chemistry wasn’t there now, would it ever be, she wondered. From her own, admittedly limited, experience, there was usually a connection pretty early on. Although she had never been to bed with a man on the first date, there’d been times when it had been very hard not to. With Andy, she’d lasted until the third date and she could still remember the frantic tearing at each other’s clothes before they fell naked and entwined into bed.
The erotic memory stirred her body with the familiar feelings of desire which had been dormant for so long. Oh my God, she groaned, guess the hormones are back on form! But the image that was uppermost in her mind was not that of Marcus or Andy, but of Nick. She shook herself. I think my brain’s got its wires crossed. But why am I not feeling like that with Marcus? He’s very attractive and charming and I used to fancy him rotten! She sighed and decided that if there was no spark between her and Marcus within the next couple of weeks then she’d stop seeing him. It wasn’t fair to string him along, after all.
Later that evening they were on the balcony at Christie’s enjoying the warm, balmy air as they waited for their first course to arrive. As soon as Jeanne had mentioned that she was going to have a book published Marcus had insisted on ordering champagne as an aperitif.
‘At this rate I shall be permanently awash with champagne,’ she laughed as they clinked glasses. ‘Peter opened a bottle the other night and I haven’t even signed a contract yet!’
‘Just be positive. I’m sure it’ll all work out. After all, you’ve got the letter from the publishers to prove good intent.’
The letter had arrived that morning from her agent, Sally Coulson, confirming that negotiations were now under way.
‘True, so when I do get a contract I guess there’ll have to be more champagne.’ she smiled at Marcus.
‘If you’re going to be rich then you’ll have to pay for it,’ he joked.
‘Oh, I won’t be rich! But it would be nice to get a big, fat advance,’ she giggled, intoxicated by the bubbles.
‘And where are you and Colette going to cook up those delicious dishes?’
‘Nick’s kindly agreed we can use his kitchen as he’s hardly ever there.’
‘Mm, I see. Not sure how I like the idea of your spending time at Nick’s. I think he fancies you,’ Marcus said, scowling.
‘Oh, I don’t think he does. And I’m not likely to see much of him as I’m only helping Colette with the donkey work. I’ll be in and out, really.’
As both Molly and Marcus had now said the same thing, perhaps Nick did fancy her, she thought, her stomach contracting. She was lost in her thoughts for a moment and when she looked up she noticed that Marcus was looking sullen.
Jeanne sought to lighten the atmosphere between them and eventually he cheered up. By the time their coffee arrived he was laughing at a joke she’d told him.
It was a thoughtful Jeanne who said goodnight to him as he dropped her back home. They had kissed – he with some passion and she with less enthusiasm.
‘Jeanne, I’m sorry for making a fuss earlier about Nick. But I think I’m falling in love with you and I don’t want to think of you spending time with another man,’ Marcus said after their kiss. He was still holding her face between his hands and as she looked into his eyes they seemed to change and become those of his brother.
She blinked and his eyes were his own again. It was just her imagination but it had startled her.
‘Please, Marcus. It’s too soon to talk of love. We hardly know each other and I’m not sure what I feel for you. And I don’t want to be told who I may or may not see!’
She was beginning to feel angry about his possessiveness and she got out of the car before he could reply.
Going straight upstairs she was relieved to hear his car pull out of the drive. With a shock she found her hands were shaking. As she got into bed and tried to sleep all Jeanne saw were eyes – Marcus’s turning into Dan’s and then back again. Her sleep was restless with vivid dreams full of staring, baleful blue eyes.
The following week was a solitary time for Jeanne. She had told her friends that she wouldn’t be going out while preparing for the builders and working on the book but she did stay in touch by phone. Colette rang to say that she couldn’t wait to start work on the recipes, particularly the French ones. She thought that her two weeks would be enough to try out the oven based recipes at least. The others could be incorporated into her normal home cooking schedule.
‘It just means that we’ll be eating a strange mixture for a while, but I don’t think Scott’ll mind. He’s used to my experimenting on him!’ she laughed.
Marcus had also rung at the weekend to apologise again and she had been quite cool towards him.
‘Let’s just take a break for the moment, Marcus. I’ve got a lot on my plate just now so if you want to ring me next weekend I’ll see how I feel then, okay?’
‘If that’s what you want. I hope you have a good week and miss me as much as I’ll miss you. Take care,’ he said, sulkily.
It had been a relief to Jeanne to put Marcus on hold and concentrate on more practical matters. She had not proved to be very successful in the emotional stakes in the past and wanted to get it right this time.
On Monday she had taken flowers to the graves before going off to her appointment with Molly. The session had gone well and she felt even more relaxed than she had the first time. Molly had taught her the self-hypnosis technique and she had practised it religiously each day since. If nothing else, it was helping her to stay focussed on her work and the pile of notes was steadily growing.
Sally had also been in touch about the publishing contract.
‘We’ve only really touched base so far. But I hope to have received the main deal points in the next few days. They’re proposing a high-quality hardback backed up with extensive marketing for maximum sales. The key figure is the advance which has yet to be mentioned so I’ll get back to you on that. Happy so far?’
‘Yes, fine. I’m sure I can rely on your impressive negotiating skills! Once the contract’s ready I’ll pop over to London and you can take me out to lunch to celebrate. That’s the tradition, isn’t it?’ Jeanne chuckled.
‘Might just manage a burger and chips! See you soon.’
As Jeanne had done very little work through Sally as yet, she had barely earned a cup of coffee, let alone a meal. But if this contract was as good as Sally expected then the lunch was likely to be, if not at The Ritz, at least at a decent restaurant, she hoped.
By Sunday Jeanne was fed up of her own company and was actually looking forward to the builders arriving the next day, in spite of the disruption they would bring. She knew her life would be turned upside down but at least things would be happening and within a few months she would have a home to be proud of. Assuming nothing went wrong.
chapter nineteen
By nine o’clock on Monday morning Jeanne felt as if she’d been transported to a war zone. A large skip had taken over the drive and anything she had designated as rubbish was being thrown into it, at some cost to her eardrums. Elsewhere drills and crowbars were in full use and she could both hear and feel her house disintegrating around her. Once everything was on track with the builders she planned to go off to Molly’s to work in peace and quiet.
Martin had arrived with his plumber, electrician and labourer in tow and had wasted no time in working out a plan of action.
‘Once the place is clear we’ll concentrate on the new central heating and the electrics. We’ll have to cut off the present supply in a couple of weeks or so. Afraid there’ll be no water at some stage too. By then I’d suggest you move out as it’ll be a bit uncomfortable,’ Martin said dryly.
‘Oh, I see. How long do you think I’ll need to be out?’
‘About a week or two. And you’d not want to be here during the day for longer than that. To be honest, we’d get on much quicker if you’re not living here. No need to worry about power and plumbing or to keep clearing up, see. And all the floors upstairs have to come up.’
Jeanne nodded and wondered where she could go. Molly couldn’t help and it was likely that anyone with a spare bedroom in Guernsey in summer had a list of relatives and friends eager to visit. Even if she could find a room in a guest house or hotel it would be very expensive and she didn’t want to spend hundreds of pounds on a room if she could avoid it. There was always a new problem, she sighed, loading up her car with her laptop, printer and files.
She let herself in and headed for the study which Molly had said she could use. Her priority was to go through Wilhelm’s letters and learn more about his relationship with her gran.
By 1944 Wilhelm’s English had improved considerably and his letters were easier to read. A letter dated April 1944 proved to be a revelation:
My darling Jeanne
I feel myself so honoured your love and trust earned to have. I know doubtless that you my heart have and I yours have. I have slept not with a woman before and after the last night my heart is with love for you and joy that you have given me, full. I hope that for you also it special and joyful was?
I want the rest of my life in your arms to spend, where I belong. I want to love you and from all harm to protect. When this senseless war over is, will we the world as man and wife face.
