What Happens at the Beach... (30 page)

‘Thanks for that, Natalie. Listen, are we still on for tomorrow? What time are your appointments?'

Natalie told him and they agreed they would set off at eight, so as to have more time to visit Carcassonne before her interview. Finally, she promised to send the dog home. She dropped the phone back onto the table and stood up. Barney followed suit. She walked to the end of the house and pointed up the hill towards the chateau.

‘Go and see Mark. Where's Mark? Go on. Off you go.' The dog seemed to understand and he set off up the path at a trot. Natalie stood and watched until he disappeared from sight, rather wishing she had suggested Mark come down and pick Barney up from her himself. She knew she wanted to see him again, but also that it wasn't going to be easy getting back to the way things used to be between them, before that evening high up above the gorge.

Chapter 17

They got to Carcassonne at half past nine next morning. The journey had been mostly in silence, with a few rather strained exchanges about trivia. No mention was made by either of them of the night in the starlight overlooking the gorge. In the end they took refuge in a discussion of the crusade against the Cathars and what sights awaited them that day. The weather was hot and sunny, but the Tramontane wind had picked up and the car was buffeted by violent gusts as they drove up the motorway to Carcassonne. This was to be Mark's first visit to this spectacular site and Natalie knew he would find it fascinating. As they turned off the motorway, and the walled city finally appeared in front of them, his reaction was as enthusiastic as she had hoped and she felt her spirits begin to rise. She fell gladly into her role as guide and mentor.

‘This is where Simon de Montfort had his base for much of the crusade. As you can see, it's a pretty formidable fortress.'

‘You can say that again.' Mark pulled the car over onto the verge at the side of the road and stopped, looking out in wonder at the spectacle ahead of them. Positioned on top of a steep-sided hill, the massive ochre-coloured stone walls that completely encircled the old town rose high between a series of round defensive towers, topped by red-tiled roofs. A huge ditch in front of the walls completed the fortifications.

‘Back in the Middle Ages it was all a lot more rough and ready. Most of the roofs you see are the work of Viollet-le-Duc, who gave the place a serious, and not totally authentic, makeover in the nineteenth century.' Natalie found she was enjoying her guide role once more and felt relieved to have got over the initial awkwardness of the journey. ‘Still, even eight hundred years ago, it was just about impregnable.'

After taking some photos, Mark set off once more and they parked opposite the main entrance to the citadel. Natalie's interview was to be at the offices of the
Centre Européen de Recherches Cathares
, the CERC, down in the modern town of Carcassonne that stretched out on the flat ground below the walled city. She spent an hour walking around the medieval fortress with him, breathing in the atmosphere that not even the numerous gift shops selling plastic swords, ice creams and postcards could spoil. Then, at half past ten, she left him to his own devices and went off to her interview.

European funding was very much in evidence in the new research centre. Behind the art nouveau façade of the old townhouse, she walked into a very smart reception area with lots of stainless steel and glass on display. Spotlights illuminated huge photos of Cathar places of interest on the walls and Natalie was delighted to be able to recognise all of them. She was greeted by a friendly receptionist who led her straight through to the director, Doctor Claudine Pellettier.

‘Natalie, how good of you to come. I'm Claudine.' She spoke in French so Natalie replied in the same language.

‘Thank you for agreeing to interview me.'

Claudine was probably ten years older than her and informally dressed. This came as a relief to Natalie as she had brought no formal clothes to France and was wearing jeans and a simple top. She sat down on a sofa opposite Claudine and the interview began. In the course of the next hour she learnt all about the new research centre and their plans for the future. By the sound of it, as long as funding continued, it was going to be a dynamic and interesting place to work. She told Claudine all about her PhD and the research she had undertaken. As the interview progressed it became clear that she was just what the centre was looking for. Finally, Claudine looked across at her and smiled.

‘Natalie, you would appear to offer a number of things that we need. Your research is perfect for us and your doctorate from a prestigious university very valuable. Equally important, maybe even more important, is the fact that you're bilingual in French and English.' Claudine grinned and switched to heavily accented English. ‘It will be necessary for us to participate in many English-language conferences and my English, unfortunately, is not strong. To have a native speaker here would be just what we need.' She switched back to French again. ‘I'm very happy to offer you the position if you feel prepared to accept.'

Natalie was delighted. She hadn't expected to be offered anything on the spot and an overwhelming sense of relief ran through her. She had a job. If she wanted it. She looked round the room. The atmosphere of the place was friendly and vibrant and, even though the pay wasn't anything like as good as the Canada job, she felt strongly tempted to say yes. She thanked Claudine most warmly and explained that she was committed to two further interviews for jobs in Cambridge and Canada and that she would be in a position to give her answer on Thursday. She got a surprise when she heard Claudine's reaction to mention of the Canadian job.

‘Really?' Claudine was smiling. ‘Would that be the University of Canada, Montreal, by any chance?' Her smile turned into a conspiratorial grin. ‘And would that be with the delectable Doctor Andy Lagarde?' When she saw the look on Natalie's face, she explained. ‘Andy and I are old friends. In fact, he's coming here tomorrow afternoon. Have you met him before?' Natalie shook her head. ‘Well, you've got a treat in store.' She twisted her wedding ring on her finger and shook her head ruefully. ‘If I weren't a happily married woman…'

Natalie found that she was smiling back at her. ‘Somehow, I don't think I need any more complications with men for a while.' She gave Claudine a two-line résumé of her current situation and read sympathy in her eyes. ‘For me, for now, the job's the most important thing.'

‘Well, I sincerely hope you come to us. I know I'd enjoy working with you and I'm sure you'd like it here. Carcassonne's not a bad place to live.'

‘No, not bad at all.'

‘And Canada's terribly cold in winter, remember.' Claudine smiled at her again. ‘Anyway, give my love to Andy when you see him.'

Natalie and Mark met up again at lunchtime. Over a sandwich and a mineral water, she told him about the interview, but she omitted to mention what Claudine had said about Doctor Andy Lagarde.

‘That sounds great, Natalie. Congratulations on getting your first real job.'

‘No, my first real job is this one, helping you. By the way, she said they'd like me to start in September, date to be agreed. That's only a few weeks away. Does that give you enough of my time to find out all you want about the Cathars for your book? You were kind enough to offer me a job and the last thing I want to do is let you down.'

For a moment it looked as though he was about to say something in response to that remark, but then he just settled for, ‘I know you'd never let me down. That'll be fine and you have your career to think of.' He glanced up from his sandwich and caught her eye. ‘Besides, if you take this job you'll still be living nearby. I'd really like that.'

Natalie couldn't miss the affection in his voice and she felt another twinge of regret for what might have been.

They left after lunch and drove to Toulouse. After a struggle to find a parking space big enough for Mark's car they walked together to the wonderful Basilica of Saint Sernin. Natalie left Mark by the massive red-brick cathedral, arranging to meet up again in the Bar St Sernin on the corner of the square, while she went in search of the delectable Doctor Lagarde.

Their appointment was in the main lobby of a large hotel a few blocks from Place St Sernin and she had no difficulty in finding it. Nor did she have any difficulty recognising Doctor Lagarde. Although there were a dozen people in the lobby, sitting around chatting or waiting, there was only one tall, fit-looking man with a face like James Dean. Just in case she needed confirmation, he was wearing a light-grey T-shirt, sporting the crest and the name, University of Canada, Montreal. As she walked across to him, he looked up from his laptop and smiled. Natalie took a deep breath. Claudine Pellettier hadn't been exaggerating. He was gorgeous.

‘Doctor Lagarde?'

‘And you must be Dr Dryden. Natalie, how very good to see you.' He stood up, flicked the stylishly long hair out of his eyes and held out his hand. ‘Hi, I'm Andy. Thank you so much for coming along.' He spoke to her in English and his soft Canadian accent sounded warm and welcoming.

Natalie took his hand and shook it, then sat down on the opposite side of the low coffee table where he had been working. ‘I hope you've got over your jet lag. It sounds like you're on a very tight schedule.'

‘I certainly am this time, but I seem to have shaken off the effects of the flight all right. Can I get you a coffee?'

Natalie shook her head. ‘I'm fine, thank you. I bring you greetings from Doctor Pellettier in Carcassonne. I saw her this morning.'

‘How kind. I'm seeing her tomorrow. Don't tell me we're in competition with Claudine for you.'

Natalie smiled. ‘I had an interview with her this morning.' She decided that full disclosure might be in order. ‘And I'm flying over to Cambridge tomorrow for an interview at St Margaret's college. That's our Cambridge, rather than the Massachusetts, one.'

‘Oh dear, that sounds like heavyweight competition.' His smile broadened. ‘Then it looks like I'm going to have to use all my powers of persuasion to get you to come to us.'

The interview took well over an hour. He was very thorough and Natalie was impressed that he had already checked out her doctoral thesis. Clearly, as well as being drop-dead gorgeous, he had a brain and he knew how to use it. As they spoke, she did her best to ignore his physical attributes and concentrate on the mind within. The job sounded very good and she listened with interest as he described the MA course they were running on religious intolerance in the early Middle Ages. That sounded right up her street. She told him all about her research and the conversation drifted from English into French and back again. He told her how pleased he was to find somebody with her qualifications who was also bilingual, and she got the impression that this was a considerable plus point for her.

At the end of the interview he asked her if she had any questions. She told him in all honesty of her apprehension at the thought of making a move all the way to Canada. He did his best to answer her queries about such everyday matters as housing, health insurance, whether she would need a work permit and so on. His answers were very encouraging and reassured her that the university would be willing to offer her a lot of assistance in settling down over there. She also discovered that, over and above the generous pay package, they would also offer a one-off resettlement allowance. It all began to sound very good indeed. As she listened to him, she couldn't help noticing the absence of a wedding ring on his finger, but she did her best to chase the thought from her head in exasperation. There was no disguising the fact that he was a very, very good-looking man, but she knew she had to make her decision on the basis of the job, not the interviewer.

He insisted on offering her a drink. After so much talking she was only too pleased to accept a cold beer and he ordered the same for himself. As they drank their beers, the conversation became less formal and he told her about Montreal and how great it was to live there. Natalie voiced one of her concerns. ‘Claudine said it would be very cold there.'

He smiled. ‘That's very unsporting of her, trying to slag off the opposition, but she's right. It does get very cold in winter, but we're prepared for it. Everywhere's heated, the car parks are underground, it's no big deal really. And, in return, you get skiing on your doorstep and the chance to take trips down to the US or up to see the polar bears in Labrador. Lots of Brits come over and love it.'

Mention of Labrador conjured up a mental picture of Barney and, along with him, his master. There was little doubt that putting thousands of miles between them would inevitably mean the end of her relationship with dog and man, and that saddened her greatly. She gave herself a mental talking-to. What relationship, she asked herself angrily? In her head, maybe, but apparently not in his. She stifled a growl and concentrated on the interview, feeling pretty confident that this, at least, had gone well.

It had.

‘Natalie, I was very impressed by your application and your thesis. Now that I've had a chance to meet and talk with you, I've no hesitation in saying that the job's yours, if you'd like it. We'd like you to start as soon as you can, maybe in a month or so?' He sat back and stretched, smiling across the table at her. She couldn't miss the way his tight T-shirt rippled across his chest and stomach and she almost choked on her beer. She was amazed and delighted. Two job offers in one day! It didn't get any better than that, surely!

‘Thank you so very much. It sounds wonderful, really. I'm at a stage in my life where I'm determined to concentrate on my career and your university, your department and the courses you're running sound really exciting. Like I say, I'm committed to the interview in Cambridge tomorrow, so could I give you my answer on Thursday? But, I have to say, I'm very, very interested.'