What Happens at the Beach... (27 page)

‘Good morning, Madame Lenoir.'

‘Good morning, Natalie. Did you sleep well?'

‘Really well, thank you, although it was a very warm night.' She caught the older lady's eye. ‘Did you hear about my gran?'

‘Yes, indeed. I'm so sorry for you. Mark told me yesterday and then my husband told me again last night. Everybody's talking about her down at the bar. I imagine a good few people will turn out for her funeral, seeing as she was one of the oldest inhabitants of the village. What are you going to do as far as a reception's concerned? You know, after the funeral.'

Natalie hadn't considered this. Of course, after the funeral, there would have to be drinks and refreshments for the mourners. She decided to ask Alain and Dominique at the restaurant if they might be able to organise something, but she needed to know the day and time of the funeral first. She checked her watch and decided it wasn't too early in the morning to call the funeral director. She pulled out her phone and dialled. He answered almost immediately.

‘Ah, good morning, Natalie, I got your message and I tried calling your grandmother's number last night, but you didn't answer. I was going to ring you today. I've arranged the funeral for Friday afternoon, as you said, at three o'clock.'

Natalie gave a sigh of relief. This meant she could still get to the two interviews in France on Tuesday, the Cambridge interview on Wednesday and back here again on Thursday. ‘That's absolutely fine, Monsieur Jacquard.'

He talked her through all the arrangements and she was relieved her grandmother was in competent hands. Everything was organised. Her biggest problem was going to be in managing to pay for everything. She now knew she had to go to the bank, among other places, on Monday to report her grandmother's death, and she had a feeling Colette's accounts would be frozen. That would leave her totally reliant on the minimal amount left in her current account in the UK and her near depleted savings account. Her flights to Cambridge and back again would further reduce her funds as well. She hadn't asked how much the funeral was going to cost, but she remembered the vast expense when her parents had died and knew it was going to be awfully tight.

Relegating that problem to the back of her mind for now, she relayed the information to Madame Lenoir that the funeral would be at three o'clock on Friday and, as she was talking, Barney arrived, closely followed by a very sweaty Mark.

‘Hi, Natalie. Sleep well?'

‘Very. I had a guard dog at my side most of the night, I believe.'

Mark grinned. ‘That doesn't come as a great surprise. He's really taken to you. Next time, just boot him out.'

‘It was nice to have the company. Have you had your run?' Considering the sweat that was pouring off him, this was a pretty silly question. ‘Of course you have. Are you still on for a drive up to the Minervois?'

‘Definitely, if it's still okay with you. What about your morning swim? I know we're a bit late but I've got some stuff to do, so why don't you go for your swim and we'll meet back here at, say, ten-thirty? Sound good?'

‘That sounds perfect. That way I can drop in at the restaurant to ask if they can cater for a reception after the funeral next Friday.' She finished her coffee and jumped to her feet. ‘I'll just get my stuff. Thanks again for letting me stay last night.'

‘You're welcome to stay longer. Madame Lenoir won't change the sheets so you can decide tonight where you want to sleep. Okay?'

Natalie went back to her grandmother's house and opened the doors and windows, letting the light flood in. She had been a bit fearful that the atmosphere in there, now that her grandmother had gone, might be oppressive, but she found the house as warm and welcoming as ever. She was very cheered by this and felt sure she would be able to spend the night here without worry tonight. She went online and booked her flights to and from the UK. As she had feared, booking them at the last minute wasn't cheap and she felt pretty sure her limited savings would be completely cleaned out over the next week.

She took a deep breath and muttered a silent prayer that she would be offered at least one of the jobs. If it were the Cambridge job, there was the question of David to be resolved and, along with it, the question of where to live. If it were the Carcassonne job, her grandmother's house was too far away for her to commute on a daily basis, so there would be expense involved in finding accommodation there. And, of course, if she got the Canadian job she would need a lot of money to pay her air fare and then to put down as a deposit on an apartment in Montreal. Being offered any one of the jobs would be wonderful, but she knew full well it would just be the first of numerous hurdles she would have to cross.

There was an email from Amy telling her how sorry she was to hear about her grandmother's death and saying she could come and spend the Wednesday night at her place, so that was one problem solved. She sent her back a message saying a big thank you. She also composed a brief email to David, giving him the news.

She changed into her swimming things and was down on the beach by nine-thirty. She waded into the sea and swam out to the mooring buoys and back. As she emerged, she felt refreshed after the muggy night. Once she had rubbed herself dry, she went across to the restaurant to break the news of Colette's death to Dominique and Alain. Unsurprisingly, Dominique had already heard.

‘Natalie, we're so, so, sorry for your loss. Come and sit down and have a coffee.'

They chatted for ten minutes. Natalie was so pleased to be with good friends like these and she knew she would really miss this place if she had to sell Colette's house. The other option, she thought to herself, would be to sell her parents' old house in England to pay the French death duties, but then she would lose the regular monthly rental income that was just about keeping her head above water at the moment. Of course, she thought to herself, she could maybe rent this house on a weekly basis for holidaymakers. What to do? Once again she did her best to dismiss financial concerns for now and asked Alain and Dominique if they could lay on a reception after the funeral. She was delighted to learn that they would do it and, to her relief, Alain said they would do it at cost.

Natalie went back up to the house just before ten and took another shower, rinsing the salt and sand out of her hair, before giving it a quick dry with a towel. She was standing in her room in her underwear, looking for a clean pair of shorts, when her phone rang. It was David. She groaned inwardly as she answered, knowing it wasn't going to be an easy conversation.

‘Hi, David.'

‘Hi, Nat. I got your email about your gran. How're you holding up?' His tone was gentle and caring, so very different from the last time they had spoken.

She took a deep breath. ‘I'm fine, David, thanks. She died in her sleep and I found her in the morning.'

‘Oh, Lord, how terrible.' He paused. ‘Mind you, Nat, she was pretty ancient, wasn't she?'

‘She was ninety. And at least she was bright as a button right to the end, so I suppose that makes things a bit better.'

‘When's the funeral?'

Natalie explained that the funeral was to be on Friday, but that she had to be in Cambridge for an interview at St Margaret's at three on Wednesday.

‘That's great news about the interview.' He really did sound pleased. ‘When are your flights?'

Reluctantly, Natalie told him. Although she knew she had to talk to him, she really didn't want him to try to monopolise her while she was there. She needn't have worried; his reply was predictable.

‘I'm afraid we've got a big case going on the first half of next week. I'm going to be tied up through to Wednesday so I won't be able to meet you when you arrive. Otherwise I would have done. We'll almost certainly have to work all through the previous night, preparing everything. If all goes well I should be back home by evening, though. I'll text you when I see how it's all going.' He paused. ‘I'm really looking forward to seeing you again, Natalie.'

Natalie remembered what Amy had told her. ‘I had a long talk to Amy the other day, David. She told me you went round to see her.'

‘Yes, that's right.' He hesitated. ‘Did she tell you I made a bit of a spectacle of myself?'

‘She told me you were upset.'

‘Did she tell you why?' He sounded nervous and she felt a stab of affection for him. ‘It was all about you, Natalie.' His voice grew in strength. ‘I've been a fool. Not standing up for you was the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life. You deserved better from me. I'm sorry, Natalie, really, really sorry.'

‘We all make mistakes, David. Besides, there are always two sides to any argument and I reckon I owe you an apology as well. I've been obsessing about my studies every bit as much as I accused you of doing about your job.'

‘We need to talk, Natalie.'

‘I know. I'll be staying with Amy. We can meet up on Wednesday night and talk. All right?'

‘Of course, Natalie. Thank you. I really miss you, Natalie, and I'd do anything to get you back. And I'll definitely come over for your grandmother's funeral and then I can stay on with you for a week or so. That would be good, wouldn't it?'

Natalie shook her head silently. She really didn't know what to think. Somehow, however, she knew she didn't want him over here. She thought back to the lovely evening she had just spent with Mark. To her, Port Renard was now synonymous with Mark, not David. Cambridge might well be a different matter. She knew she had to see David and talk things through with him before she even considered allowing him to join her in France. Besides, she told herself, if he did come over, where would he stay? And for how long? She still had her job with Mark for at least part of the week and then there would be the evenings that Alain and Dominique would expect her help at the restaurant. David would be likely to find himself spending a lot of time on his own. And, above all, there was the question of her feelings for Mark. Whatever he might feel for her, she knew that she liked him a lot.

‘Nat? Are you still there? Can you hear me, Nat?'

‘Yes, I'm still here.' She collected her thoughts. ‘Listen, David, you may be in a state of denial about our relationship, but the fact is I gave you back your ring. You know what that means, don't you? I was so bitterly hurt by your bloody mother and then by your indifference that I broke off our engagement. I'm grateful to you for what you've said now, but before I even consider getting back with you, the two of us need to sit down and do some serious talking.'

‘Yes, of course, Nat. I quite understand.' He sounded unusually insecure and subdued. ‘But surely the best way of doing that is to spend some time together. After all, you've just said you might consider getting back together with me.'

Natalie realised that she had indeed just said that. David wasn't a lawyer for nothing, and he didn't miss much. Somehow, she didn't really think they would ever get back together. Too much had happened to change her that summer. But one thing was definite; she knew she didn't want him over here for a whole week until things were sorted out between them. She took a deep breath and adopted a decisive tone. ‘David, don't book any flights until we've had a chance to talk. One way or another, just make sure that you get back to Cambridge on Wednesday evening so we can sit down and talk, once I've finished my interview. I'm very confused and there's a lot I need to get off my chest. All right? Is that clear?

There was a pause at the other end before he accepted the inevitable. ‘All right, Nat, if that's what you want. I'll see you on Wednesday and we'll talk.'

When Natalie went back up to the chateau shortly after ten-thirty, she found Mark and Barney both waiting for her, ready to go off for the day. She joined them in the car and Mark set off. She felt she should apologise for being late. ‘I'm sorry. I got a long phone call from my fiancé… my ex-fiancé.'

‘No problem. I'd only just got Barney into the car when you turned up. It's good to hear that you and your ex are still speaking. After Beatrice and I split up, she refused to speak to me. Everything had to go through the solicitors.' He pulled out of the gates at the end of the drive and accelerated off down the road towards Banyuls. ‘God, how I hate solicitors.'

Natalie smiled wryly. ‘That's something else we've got in common, Mark. Anyway, I'm meeting up with him on Wednesday night after the Cambridge interview to talk things through. I desperately need to do that because he's threatening to come over to join me for a holiday.'

‘Ah, so I was right.'

She turned and looked at him. ‘Right about what?'

‘You and he haven't really broken up.'

‘Well, I gave him back his ring. That's pretty unambiguous, I would have thought.'

‘Clearly, he doesn't think so.' He glanced across at her, paused and then changed the subject. ‘Anyway, sorry, that's none of my business. Forget I spoke. So, what's the plan today? Where are we going?'

‘Right, today we're going to the site of the old Benedictine abbey of Lagrasse, then to the former Cistercian abbey of Fontfroide and from there, via Narbonne, to the fortified village of Minerve, where one hundred and forty Cathar faithful were burnt at the stake by the crusaders.'

‘Sounds like a fascinating day.' This time he did glance across at her. ‘I was rather hoping we'd be going to Minerve. Madame Lenoir's been telling me about an amazing restaurant on the hill above there and I thought, unless you were in a rush to get back, we could have dinner together there tonight.'

Natalie glanced down at herself critically. ‘When you say an amazing restaurant, does that mean dressy? All I've got are my old shorts and a T-shirt.'

‘You'll be fine, Natalie. Just fine.'

They had a fascinating day, visiting the picturesque little town of Lagrasse with its ruined abbey and beautiful old stone bridge. From there, they drove on through the Corbières to the magnificently preserved abbey of Fontfroide, set in a verdant valley in the middle of a barren landscape. As they walked around, Natalie explained to Mark how the abbey had become a little island of Catholicism in the middle of hostile Cathar territory during the crusade. Mark was very interested in everything he saw and, again, took numerous photos.