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Charlotte threw herself forward in her pram. ‘I want Mummy,’ she urged in panic
Ben scratched his neck and looked around him, hoping no witnesses could hear and accuse him of terrorising the child.
‘Mummy,’ she called. Evie was now at the other end of the track and turning back. She waved.
He knelt down beside her. ‘Mummy waving. Wave to Mummy,’ Ben told her and demonstrated by waving his hand in the air. ‘Mummy coming.’
It seemed to do the trick and the little girl’s expression transformed to a smile. Evie gathered speed.
‘Mummy come.’
Ben breathed a big sigh as Evie slowed and squeaked the brakes a few feet away.
‘Mummy,’ Charlotte’s legs began kicking.
‘Yes, it feels really good.’ Evie said. ‘Rather nice.’
‘Good, so you’ll happily use it?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
‘I’ll put the child seat on.’
‘Thank you. Do you need a spanner?’
‘No, it’s all here. Ah, but I do need the car keys back.’
Evie twisted her mouth with a wry grin and delved into her pocket. ‘Just a precautionary thing, you understand,’ she said, passing them into his hand.
‘Sure. I’d do the same.’
Ben scrambled into the back of his car while Evie inspected the detail on the bike. He couldn’t help grinning to himself at her quirkiness. He found her so endearing; worrying about a replacement bike, for goodness’ sake. She didn’t seem ungrateful, more suspicious about his motives maybe, and, rightly so, very protective towards her child. He was pleased she had finally accepted the bike now though and wondered if it might be a good moment to ask her about the research. He was so enthused by her peasant girls and eager to know more.
‘Mummy out.’
‘Oh, sweetheart. Yes. You can come out.’ Evie told her child, unclipping her from the buggy. ‘We can have a little ride in a minute. We’ll pop down and see what Monsieur Fish has for us today.’
Swinging around while unwrapping the polythene wrapping on the child seat, Ben seized his moment.
‘You know you’ve created quite a dilemma for me?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘My script for Riquet. I can’t stop thinking about what you said about the female peasants from the mountains having an input to Riquet’s building of the canal.’ Ben mounted the seat while Evie held the bike. Charlotte watched curiously.
‘It’s your script. Your film. You do what you want with it. It was just an opinion, that’s all.’
‘But you are so passionate about them, their story. I can’t help feeling, especially if it’s fact, it should be added. And as you’re a journalist you probably know all about research and love digging out these types of stories… so, could you do some further research on this for me? And quite soon.’
He watched her face with caution, but her face lit up.
‘Well, yes, I’d love to. I did my journalism course before Charlotte so although I have the core skills, I haven’t had buckets of experience. I know the library in Beziers like the back of my hand, and the information centre in Colombiers, I’ll try and locate some primary sources too.’
‘Great, I want passion, I love your passion. All my team have passion. That’s enough. Great, do you work freelance now?’
‘No. I… don’t work. Well, I’m toying with the idea of working now that Charlotte’s a little older.’
‘But why didn’t you continue with your journalism?’
‘Apart from a few placements, I didn’t really get out to work. Lost confidence, I suppose.’ Her head swung down, scanning the floor.
‘Seems such a waste,’ Ben said, adding the last nut of the seat.
‘I know, my mother wasn’t pleased, I can tell you, but I’ve been busy with Charlotte anyway.’
‘You do want to do it, don’t you? I mean…’
Her head flipped up with such high velocity, a sweet peppery fragrance wafted from tresses of blonde hair. ‘Hey yeah, of course. It would suit me perfectly.’ Her eyes shone with such brutal honesty he swore he could see right into her soul.
‘Parents always have high expectations. I know mine did, but I didn’t want to become an architect like my mum, which she would have liked. I’d like to make them proud one day though, just as a thanks.’
‘Bit late for me now. Damage has been done.’
‘I bet they love their granddaughter.’
Her shoulders shrugged. ‘I doubt it. Well they might if they came to see her.’
Ben rubbed the side of his head and bit his lip. Maybe that was a bit too honest. ‘Well, anything you can dig up would be appreciated. Where these women came from, who they were, was there one in particular, did he have an affair or affairs? Apart from the labouring, what were their roles, ages, anything? I can give you an advance for expenses etc., and pay you hourly or a set fee? Have you got email?’
‘Oh, er. I’ve got your card with your email on. Shall I email you?’
Ben sensed a hesitation. ‘Yes, fine.’ Ben tightened the last bolt on the seat and asked her to put Charlotte in. They all seemed happy with the result. ‘Oh, I’ve got you a new helmet in case there was any damage to yours. I hope it fits.’ He went to the rear of the car and took out a box while Evie balanced her daughter on the bike.
‘You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble. Can I get you a drink?’
‘Like I said, it’s the least I could do. Anyway, I’d better get back to the set, so thank you for the offer. And,’ he reached inside the car, ‘the claim form. Here.’
Evie leant the bike and Charlotte against her hip and took the sheet of paper. ‘Huh, don’t be silly,’ Evie said, tearing it in half and half again, ‘the research work will be far more rewarding, thank you.’
Ben waved as he left. He would have loved nothing more to have stayed with them longer. Her charm was infectious. He felt her warming to him and was delighted that she would help. The fact that she had the training was a bonus. He drove to the end of the track and turned onto the narrow road. An approaching car swerved past him to the other side of the lane, overshooting into a small opening. He waved an apologetic hand at the driver as he drove off. It was a small Fiat, he noted, but the driver looked a lot like the singer, Seb Wilde. ‘Bloody hell, could he be her partner, and Charlotte’s father?
Chapter 5 (#ulink_2e8ac474-87fe-55b6-97ed-972ac74a8b92)
Evie wheeled the shiny bicycle inside the steel gates and propped it up, unclipping and lifting a reluctant Charlotte down from the chair. Apart from being deadly attractive, this man was so kind and so easy to talk to. She loved the smell of him, like him it seemed alluringly strong and dependable. She inhaled and took a deep breath, then let out the longest breath, trying to expel her guilt. If only she could feel as relaxed with Seb.
‘Go pish shop,’ Charlotte moaned, wriggling and twisting her body in defiance.
‘I need to try on my new helmet, sweet pea.’
Retrieving the buggy, where she’d stacked the helmet box, from outside the gate, Evie instructed Charlotte to wheel it to the door, helping her push it over the main threshold and into the hall. She collected the box, and with her daughter keen to see inside it, headed for the front shaded terrace. Seated on the bench, Evie winced at a dark cloud bruising the sky and continued. With a little strap adjustment, it was perfect. Ben had made a good selection.
Hearing a car, her heart raced. Ben had returned. She stood and peered out. Hmm, we’re popular all of a sudden. Evie didn’t recognise the small car but instantly knew the silhouette of the driver. Wondering why he hadn’t informed her of his visit, she watched as Seb Wilde stepped out of the car. Entering the open gate, he eyed the new bike with curiosity and strolled towards her. Whipping off the helmet, she examined him. His fair hair was cut shorter, his skin unusually tanned and, in long shorts and a casual t-shirt, he appeared slimmer. An anxious smile crossed his face. Evie put her helmet to one side and composed herself, determined she would not be argumentative and that she would make the most of his company, however mad she was at him. And it did seem petty after yesterday’s trauma.
‘Charlotte, look who has come to see us,’ she shrilled, taking the child’s hand. ‘It’s Daddy.’ She dropped the child’s hand and stepped into Seb’s open arms, which were welcoming but brief.
‘You’re in good spirits, especially after yesterday. What was that outburst about?’
‘I was bloody mad at you yesterday, but you’re here now. Can’t I be happy to see you?’
‘Yes, I gathered that. That’s why I’ve come.’
Evie stood back, observing as he bent down to his child.
‘Hello Charlotte.’ He brushed a hand through her hair. ‘How are you? You have grown, and are looking very pretty.’ He twisted a blond curl around his finger.
Charlotte rushed to her mother’s leg and clung to her knee. Her tongue licked her top lip as she scrutinised her father. Seb stood back up, and patted his daughter’s head. ‘It’s Daddy, silly.’
Evie sensed his irritation but what did he expect, not having been home since early February – and that visit was short. It was now the end of May. Charlotte was nearly two years old and so much more knowing. Although, she doubted he had any inkling of a child’s perception.
‘She’s going through a shy stage.’
‘I think she’s forgotten who I am.’
‘Well. She’s wary, I suppose. Four months is a long time in her mind. You look different too. Very well in fact. Have you been on holiday?’
‘A few days’ sailing for my manager’s fortieth, but, no, been touring and writing.’ He averted his eyes from Evie, looking at Charlotte instead, and awkwardly rubbed his chin.’
Hmm, Evie thought, looks more like a few months’ sailing and a few days’ touring. ‘Well, she’ll warm up. How long are you staying?’
‘It’s her birthday soon, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, next Wednesday. She’ll be two. Are you here for the week?’ Cally suddenly came to mind and she thought of the tension it could create.
‘Evie, sorry I won’t.’ Seb scratched his brow. ‘I’ve brought her a present but I’ll be in New York. I go tomorrow night so, I’ll just be staying tonight, I’m afraid.’
Evie’s head dropped and she took in a deep breath. ‘Perhaps you should put it in your diary for next year.’ She shifted her eyes up and down and her hands flitted to her waist. ‘So, ‘how is it that your manager’s fortieth is more important than your daughter’s birthday?’
‘Of course it isn’t.’ Seb rubbed his nose. ‘It’s just that we had a few days with nothing scheduled.’
‘Because he’d scheduled it, maybe? Isn’t it time you managed your own personal schedule, Seb? Your own priorities.’ Evie’s teeth ground with anger. He just didn’t get it, did he?
‘What’s got into you? This is what I warned you about, Evie. Why I couldn’t take on a child. Don’t make me out to be the ogre.’
Evie swiped her neck in a fluster. Of course he was right. He was having to compromise to make their relationship work. It didn’t stop it hurting any less though. She and Charlotte needed him more than he needed her. Then his usual grin appeared, creating the instant charm which always managed to melt her anger.
‘Oh. Well, we will have to have a little party tonight. I was going to get some fish for our tea so…’
‘No,’ Seb interrupted. Let’s eat out. Where would Charlotte like to eat? What’s her favourite restaurant?’
Evie gave a wry smile, huh, like they eat out. ‘Fish. She loves any fish. Sea bass, monkfish, dorade, or oysters, mussels, prawns… but I usually cook it.’
Evie could see he wasn’t keen.
He beamed as he clicked his fingers. ‘There’s a good fish restaurant in Sete, on the quay by the canal. Why don’t we head there? I’ll give her the present now while you get ready.’
Evie glared at him. What on earth would she wear? She only had the little white dress she wore last summer when he took them to a restaurant in the pretty hilltop village of Effies. He looked away and turned his attention to the bike. ‘Is that brand new?’
‘Yes. I had a rather nasty accident yesterday and my bike got damaged, so the… a guy who caused the incident replaced it.’
‘Well good. At least he has the courtesy to sort it out quickly. Was that the car I just saw drive out?’
‘Probably.’
‘Where was the accident?’ he asked, looking around for somewhere to sit.
‘On the bridge at Capestang.’
He looked down. ‘Your leg?’
‘Yes, but it’s ok, just a graze and bruising. It scraped along the wall of the bridge. I was more worried about what would happen to Charlotte if I had gone over and drowned in the canal. I need to give your phone number to my neighbour Suzanne, in case of an emergency.’
Seb pulled a face and began walking to the front terrace. ‘As long as you use a different name. You haven’t told her who I am?’
‘No of course not.’ She was now becoming cross at his skewed priorities and obsession with being hunted by the press. ‘Anyway, I trust her.’
‘You should trust no one. I’ve told you, most people crave money.’
Evie swiped a fly from her arm. ‘Oh don’t be so hung up on it. No one is really interested in our little lives.’
‘For Christ’s sake – my mother, the press, my reputation – it’s all important, Evie. My whole image is clean, boy-next-door, you know all this.’
Yes, they’d been over this before, but she had to speak to somebody. ‘Well perhaps I don’t understand why you don’t want your parents to know. They might like a grandchild. And nobody is a saint.’
Agitated, Seb kneaded his fist into the arm of the sofa. His eyes were sulky. He sat back, crossing his legs. ‘Like yours, they’re not that liberal minded.’
‘Well Suzanne is the only person I have to help, so…’
‘Well, tell her Charlie Lot or something so if she rings it will mean something. I hope it doesn’t come to that. What would I do with Charlotte on the road?’
Now she wanted to scream. ‘We have to be realistic and at least put a plan in place in case of such an eventuality. It’s really brought it home to me, especially as I don’t have my family.’ Evie scrimped back her hair and pulled it to one side. ‘Although, that could change.’
‘What do you mean?’ Seb got up and began pacing. Evie knew he would disapprove. As far as he was concerned, if they weren’t prepared to help their own daughter or sister, they were scum and he insisted she have nothing to do with them. At the time, she had agreed with him, but naturally spending so many months on her own had given her a different perspective. She really would have appreciated having her family around her.
‘My sister is coming to see us next week. Do you remember Cally? We’re going to try to rebuild our bridges. I could give her your number too, for emergencies.’
Seb pushed his shoulders back, resting his hands on his hips. ‘No, not Cally. Why? She’s never helped before. She must be after something. Probably to pry.’
‘My mum isn’t too good and she’s worried.’
