A Family Holiday (23 page)

Fleur was crying again as she packed a case, grabbing whatever she could see through the tears. The incident with Jonathan had really upset her, and there was only one person left she felt she could trust. She locked the Louis Vuitton and hauled it with difficulty downstairs. Fleur burst into her father’s study, almost panting with the effort of the emotion.

‘Hang on, Royd, something has come up. I’ll call you back,’ and her father abruptly ended his call. ‘Sweetheart, what’s wrong?’

‘You. Men. Everything. Where do I start?’ She snorted very inelegantly. ‘You let me think you were cheating on Ma and now I find out that you’ve been cheating on me with Rob!’ Fleur looked puzzled by her own sentence.

‘Fleur, have you been drinking?’

‘So what if I had a gin on the train? I’m a grown up. I mean an adult,’ she blinked hard as she tried to maintain focus.

‘Whatever Rob has said to you has clearly upset you but you know you can’t trust that boy,’ he said, coming around to Fleur’s side of the desk.

‘Don’t go blaming Rob! You gave him your flat and you gave him money to keep quiet. You treat me like a child and it needs to stop.’ She swayed slightly and grabbed the desk for support.

‘Fleur, you need to calm down.’ Her father’s voice was calm and gentle.

‘No, I need my passport.’ She stared boldly at her father until the pause had gone on too long and she added reluctantly, ‘please.’

‘Why don’t you take some time to think things through, sleep off the alcohol perhaps?’

‘Passport, please.’

‘Fleur,’ he said again, but her face remained adamant. Mr Van Benton opened a cupboard, tapped in a digital code to the small safe and it sprung open. He handed Fleur her passport but kept hold of it as she tried to take it.

‘Where shall I tell your mother that you’ve gone?’

‘To see Charlie,’ was all she could manage before snatching the passport and, failing badly to stifle more tears, she left the room, slamming the door behind her. Outside the study she came to an abrupt stop as Wriggly sat staring at her. He tilted his head from side to side and Fleur couldn’t work out if he was puzzled or if he was shaking his head at her. She crouched down to him.

‘Wriggly, you be a good boy for Ma and Pa and I’ll be back soon.’ She turned around and marched back into the office.

‘Uh, hang on a second, Royd, no it’s all right, you don’t need to call back,’ he put his hand over the receiver. ‘Yes, sweetheart? No, not you, Royd.’

‘You need to take care of Wriggly… and the horses
…
’

‘Of course. Anything else?’

Fleur tried to think but after three large G and Ts it was getting tricky, ‘Um. No.’

‘Take care, Fleur. Remember that we love you.’

Charlie heard the sound of familiar footsteps coming to join her by the pool and she prepared herself for a confrontation as she sipped her pineapple juice. She kept her gaze on the bay and the innocent twinkling lights of the boats moored there. She eventually looked up to see why her visitor hadn’t sat down and was surprised to see Tigi – and it showed on her face.

‘Sorry to interrupt your leisure time, Charlie, but
…
’ he paused and held out a scrawled note in his hand. Charlie took it from him and read it. ‘Sorry Tig, I need to get away for a few days and clear my head. Ask Ted to help cover. He’s a good lad. Will be in touch. Blue.’

‘Did he explain what happened?’ asked Charlie.

‘Nope.’

Charlie didn’t know Tigi well enough to tell him everything. ‘Do you know where he’s gone?’

‘Nope, but he’s taken one of the small boats. This is all I know,’ he said, taking back the note and folding it with care. ‘I can ask someone to cover the jeep tours but I will need someone to come on the boat tours with me. Would you be happy to let Ted do that?’

‘It’s up to Ted, but I’m happy for you to ask him.’ She checked her watch, ‘He’ll still be awake so I’ll ask him now if you like?’

Charlie got up from the sun lounger but paused before she headed inside. She turned to Tigi, ‘I bet Blue gets through lots of girls, doesn’t he?’

‘Oh, yeah, he’s a mightily popular young man.’

‘I thought so,’ she said sadly.

Next morning Ted was first up and was chattering to Berta. He was much more like his younger self and less the self-conscious teen and it brought a smile to Charlie’s face as she deposited a tired-looking Millie at the breakfast table. Millie instantly got down and went off to the TV room.

‘Morning Berta.’

‘Good morning, Charlie. I hear your man Blue has taken a sabbatical?’

‘It would seem that way,’ said Charlie, avoiding making any fuss about the reference to him being her man; she assumed this was just a local phrase.

‘I’m off to work, don’t know what time I’ll be back,’ said Ted with a grin and he picked up his phone and almost ran from the room in his enthusiasm.

‘You’re keen,’ said Charlie, but he was already out of the villa. Charlie and Berta were left in the kitchen and the two women smiled at each other. Berta busied herself with checking cupboards and adding items to an already very long shopping list.

‘Is Tigi going to be all right with Blue away?’ asked Charlie tentatively. She guessed she wasn’t meant to know about Tigi’s condition.

Berta paused and sighed. ‘He’ll tell you he’s fine on his own, but he’s not.’

‘Is he safe on the boat with Ted?’

‘He wouldn’t take any risks with passengers, so don’t worry about Ted. It’s only himself he doesn’t take proper care of.’

‘Does he have any family?’

Berta nodded and they were both momentarily distracted as George sidled into the kitchen and slumped onto a chair without speaking. ‘He has a brother but he doesn’t live here. Tigi’s from Saint Martin,’ said Berta, getting a plate out of the cupboard.

George leaned forward. ‘Does that make Tigi a Martian? Or a Martini?’ he giggled as Berta passed him a croissant. They waited for George to leave the room and as the giggling faded Charlie turned back to Berta.

‘Ted seems to have made friends with a local girl,’ Charlie said, her voice tentative.

‘Esther,’ said Berta, as she inspected the levels in her flour jar.

‘Yep, that’s her,’ said Charlie, her head snapping around in interest, ‘Did he mention her?’

‘Nope, but she mentioned him. Esther is my niece,’ Berta straightened up and locked eyes with Charlie before smiling. ‘Esther is a good girl, she works hard and she cares for her Momma. I would hate to see that change.’

Charlie felt her hackles rise at the same time as her left eyebrow. ‘I’m guessing we feel quite similar about this. I don’t want Ted to have his head turned either.’

It was Berta’s turn to raise an eyebrow and the warm breeze that had been flowing through the villa suddenly bore a chill.

The next couple of days went by relatively smoothly with the now rigid routine of swimming pool, lunch, beach and sandcastles. Charlie was relaxed at the beach and was speeding through another paperback, which was a particularly gripping thriller. When other people were packing up, Charlie realised it must be getting late. Ted and Tigi had come back from the boat about an hour before but, apart from a wave, he had stayed down at the jetty with Tigi.

Charlie gathered up a yawning Millie and a bucketful of shells that Eleanor had collected.

‘How many shells today?’

‘I’m going to make something with them,’ said Eleanor, looking proudly into the bucket.

‘I don’t think we can take them all home, but we can pick out the best ones.’

Eleanor took the bucket from Charlie and clutched it protectively. An impatient Millie wriggled in Charlie’s arms.

‘Are you still grumpy?’ Charlie asked her. Millie’s face was turning the colour of a beetroot in its prime.

‘No! I. Am. Not. Grumpy. Any. More!’ she shouted, her body aquiver with rage.

‘That’s good to know,’ smiled Charlie and she gave the beetroot a kiss.

She called to Ted as they headed off the beach and Ted shouted back that he would be another few minutes finishing off.

‘He’s a good worker!’ shouted Tigi before fist-bumping Ted’s clenched hand and pulling him into a brief man hug.

It was hard work getting the other children up the hill and she could feel her patience starting to wane. She was very pleased to see the hedge loom into sight and challenged the children to a sprint. ‘Race you to the sun loungers,’ and she set off, unaware that she was onto a certain win as even George waved away her challenge with a weary flap of his arm.

As she lumbered up the steps to the pool she was surprised to see a slender bikini-clad body stretched out on a sun lounger. And even more surprised to see a familiar mop of red hair cascading out of a bandana.

‘Fleur?’ She stopped dead and blinked. Perhaps she was hallucinating?

‘Charlie, I’m so pleased to see you!’ Fleur launched herself off the sun lounger and into Charlie’s arms. Fleur took off her sunglasses and stood back to study Charlie, ‘You look well. You look thinner. This place suits you!’ And she gave her another hug, followed by a huge sigh. ‘I have so much to tell you.’

‘What’s wrong? Actually, tell me later,’ said Charlie, conscious of the footsteps coming up behind her.

‘Fleur!’ shouted Eleanor as soon as she spotted her and, pulling energy from somewhere, she ran up the steps to hug her. ‘Did you bring Wriggly?’ she said, searching the patio area for any sign of the fluffy pup.

‘Sorry, I didn’t have enough air miles for him and anyway he’s busy playing chase with Ralph. Ma is looking after him, so he’s fine.’

Eleanor’s face fell. ‘I bet he’s missing Eleanor, though,’ prompted Charlie.

‘No, he’s fine,’ replied Fleur unhelpfully, making Eleanor’s face a little glummer. Realising her faux pas she quickly pulled her bag from the shade of the sun lounger. ‘I brought you this,’ she declared, handing Eleanor a deformed Mars bar.

‘Thanks!’ said Eleanor and she skipped off to put it in the fridge.

A couple of hours later Berta put out the salads whilst Ted manned the barbecue and they all milled around outside on the veranda. The heat from the barbecue seemed to keep the flies away so Charlie stayed close to that. It was lovely to hear the children all take their turn at recounting holiday stories for Fleur and each joining in and adding to the tales with their own take on things. The sea-urchin incident was a huge dramatic performance starring Eleanor, and cricket on the beach, described by George, was as exciting as the Ashes. Despite Charlie’s niggling fears about why Fleur was there, she was reassured that the children were loving Antigua and making the family memories she wanted them to hold onto forever.

The added excitement of Fleur’s arrival sent George, Eleanor and Millie off to sleep with ease but Charlie’s plan to pump Fleur for details about the home situation was thwarted by Berta.

Berta stopped quite late, much to Charlie’s irritation. She liked the woman but the revelation that she was Esther’s aunt and wasn’t keen on Ted hanging around with her niece hadn’t gone in her favour, and delaying Charlie finding out news from home was chipping away at the simple friendship they had built. It seemed that a couple of large tumblers of rum punch was the key to unlocking countless stories from her childhood on the island which, although entertaining, did not carry the same interest as why the hell Fleur had suddenly turned up unannounced. When Berta eventually declared that she had better be going home, Charlie nearly carried the poor woman off the veranda and out of the driveway.

As the sun had long since slid south and the biting insects that the locals called ‘no see ums’ were on the wing, they went to settle in the lounge area. Ted sat down nearby and plugged in his earphones.

‘This is a lovely villa. It reminds me of a place we had in St Kitts when I was about twelve
…
’ recalled Fleur.

‘Fleur! Why the bloody hell are you here?’ snapped Charlie, unable to hold in her frustration any longer.

‘Charlie, don’t get on my case. I’ve come here to escape all that, you know, people getting on my case.’

‘So, you’re not here to warn me that there’s a man hunt for my arrest or that Ruth has put the house up as reward for information as to my whereabouts?’ she said, only half in jest.

‘No, oh, goodness did you really think I was here because there was a problem?’

‘Er, yeah!’ she said sarcastically.

‘Sorry. I didn’t think…’ Fleur looked remorseful.

‘No, that’s just it, you never…’ but Charlie looked at Fleur’s expression and stopped herself. ‘Apology accepted. Has anyone been in touch with you?’

‘Ruth was getting herself all aerated but I forged a letter from you so it’s all sorted now,’ said Fleur, dismissing the conversation as Charlie stared at her wide-eyed. ‘But you won’t believe what Pa has done!’

Charlie sipped her third rum punch and listened to Fleur’s tales of home, a world that had seemed so far away and that now came back to her like a film playing out. Ted came back in a few minutes before midnight and patted Charlie’s arm as he headed up to bed and she returned the gesture.

‘You know, when it comes down to it, men are all the same. All. The. Same,’ Fleur flopped her head back on the sofa and let out a groan.

‘Come on, tell me what’s happened in your love life and then I really will have to turn in.’ Charlie contemplated another drink, but thought better of it.

‘Just when you think you’re actually building something special. You know, a friendship with someone, um well, special. He then goes and makes a full on pass at me when I was at my most vulnerable. This proves he didn’t want to be my friend – he just wanted sex, like all the others. Have you got a headache? I’m getting a headache. I may have drunk too much.’

‘I think you’re being a bit hard on Duggan. And, to be fair, given the way you were dribbling over his photo I hadn’t assumed it was only friendship that was on your mind
…
’

Fleur pulled her head upright quickly, ‘You know, I’d forgotten about Duggan and his wilting rocket.’

‘Is that a euphemism?’ asked Charlie, her face spreading into a childish grin.