The Vineyard. Karen AldousЧитать онлайн книгу.

       Chapter 9

      The following morning Lizzie was up early after a night tossing around with just a morsel of sleep. All night she couldn’t get him out of her head and tormented herself with whether he actually saw her the previous evening.

      Thierry was stirring and she saw that his sheet had slipped off. As she tiptoed round the bed to cover him again, she was suddenly startled by Sophie’s phone starting to ring.

      Sophie grabbed her phone and pushing her hair from her face, she pressed the phone and glanced at the time. ‘Christophe? It’s seven o’clock in the morning and I’m on holiday.’ Sophie groaned listening to her caller. ‘I’m back the weekend. Why?’ At the next pause, Sophie’s jumped up in disbelief. ‘What do you mean they’ve…how, why? I sent you a copy.’ Sophie paced up and down, her head wrapped in one hand, the phone in the other. ‘Well, yes I have got a copy but it’s at home. It will be on my laptop.’ Sophie took a deep breath and scrunched her face in disgust. ‘I haven’t a choice have I? I’ll sort out a flight. I’ll ring you once I’ve got a flight.’

      Lizzie couldn’t help but show her disappointment, but stroked a now wide-awake Thierry, his face grinning at Sophie. Unable to resist his charm Sophie greeted Thierry.

      ‘Hello, how is my favourite boy?’

      ‘Go phwim Aunty Sopie?’ he pleaded, holding up his arms and pulling at her heart.

      ‘I’m so sorry darling, Aunty Sophie has to go back to Paris. Lizzie, I can’t apologise enough. It seems they need a report urgently, well today actually. God knows where in cyberspace it is but Christophe says he didn’t get it so I’ll need to get back to my apartment. I’ve got them on my…’

      ‘Sophie, it’s fine, I completely understand. I’m just sorry you have to go.’ Lizzie was genuinely sad but tried to remain positive for all their sakes. She got Thierry dressed whilst Sophie telephoned the airline. ‘I’ll take you to the airport.’ Lizzie added.

      ‘Absolutely not my friend.’ Sophie’s hand rose in authority as she spoke in French to the airline and grabbed her small bag to pack. ‘You two are on holiday. I’ll ring the desk for a cab.’

      ‘It won’t take...’

      ‘No, I mean it. You have a walk planned. Thierry’s favourite.’

      ‘I’ll ring the desk whilst you pack then.’

      ‘That would be good, thanks,’ Sophie said, finishing her call to the airline. ‘Excellent, flight at twelve thirty back to Paris.’

      Lizzie organised the taxi and then turned to her son. ‘Thierry can take Mummy for a walk today. Would you like that Thierry? Then afterwards we’ll have a swim.’

      ‘Will you try ringing Anton again?’ Sophie asked.

      ‘No, my message said I’m just in Provence for a few days, it didn’t need to specify where but, he’ll hopefully stop calling the apartment for a few days. Marie-Claire would have called if there was a problem, but I’ll give her a quick call now just to make sure she’s ok.’

      After waving Sophie off from the front of the hotel Lizzie and Thierry headed to the restaurant for breakfast. With doors drawn back, the rising sun scattered its light delicately among the guests occupying the terrace tables, with the hills loitering deliciously in the distance. Such a shame Lizzie thought as she imagined her poor Sophie winding back down the hills to catch her plane. They stepped out to the terrace and Lizzie sat Thierry securely in a chair.