Annatia,’ Lizzie said, ‘sorry I didn’t get back to you earlier. I was hoping to speak to Cal. He’s had to rush over to his son in the States so, I’m still not sure if he’ll be back for Friday to show you around the house. I may have to cancel.’
‘Oh, I hope it’s nothing serious,’ Annatia, their friend and interior design expert, asked with genuine concern in her voice.
‘Hopefully not. A teenage episode. I’m waiting to hear.’
‘Ouch, tough age. Send him our regards. Well, if you want to go alone, I’m still available. Have you got keys?’
Lizzie agonised for a few seconds. She would love to see it. Cal had shown her a few photographs and, although it appeared somewhat dilapidated, she couldn’t wait to see it and what could be done there. He’d even offered to drive her up but she insisted she would wait until all the legal work was completed and he officially got the keys. In truth, she wanted to share the moment with Cal. It was his after all.
‘I think the best thing is for me to speak with him. I don’t think he’ll be back before Friday and, in all honesty, Annatia, I wouldn’t want any decisions made without him there. He talks about the vines and his plans as I’m sure Jes knows but, he doesn’t know much about the building. I’ll try him again. I don’t want you wasting your time.’
‘That’s fine, honey. Let me know when you can. I’m sure he’ll get in touch with Jes anyway. I think he has some rootstock on order.’
‘Thank you, Annatia.’
Lizzie was now close to her apartment and as she put her phone in her bag, searched for her keys.
Thierry ran to her as soon as she stepped inside the door. ‘Hello, Mummy.’ He grabbed at her trousers. ‘I did swim today, Mummy.’
Lizzie immediately bent down and squeezed him in her arms and kissed him.
‘Hello, darling. Wow, well done. You are a clever boy.’
‘I swimmed like this.’ Thierry threw himself to the floor and began to wave his arms and legs. ‘And I not have my armbands on, Mummy.’
Marie-Claire popped her head out from the kitchen area wearing a large grin. ‘
Bonsoir
, Lizzie.’
Lizzie’s face burst into laughter as she straightened up to watch her son demonstrate. She glanced up briefly. ‘
Bonsoir
, Marie-Claire. How amazing. He’s really swimming?’
‘Yes, just two strokes but he swam on his own. No armbands.’
‘Thierry, I’m so proud of you. Good boy.’ Lizzie knelt down again and stroked his hair as he continued stretching out his arms.
‘Will you come swimming, Mummy?’
‘I’m sure I can manage an hour, darling.’ She glanced back at Marie-Claire. ‘When will you go again?’
‘We can go late morning tomorrow. Eleven-thirty or twelve, before his playschool at two.’
‘Yes, sounds perfect. I can’t wait. You can show Mummy tomorrow.’
‘Then can we go to the park?’ Thierry asked getting up and sliding up to his mother.
‘Well, you’ll want some lunch before playschool so we won’t have time.’
‘Thierry, your dinner is ready,’ Marie-Claire announced.
‘Come on, clever boy, let’s go wash your hands,’ Lizzie said clasping his hand and leading him to the cloakroom.
After dinner and puzzles, Lizzie followed her usual bedtime routine and read to Thierry after his bath. She insisted she would bath him as Marie-Claire was going out with her new boyfriend, Patric. It was the first time Lizzie had known her to have a proper boyfriend and after the trauma with Anton last year, she was thankful Thierry’s nanny was seemingly unaffected and now happy. Patric was twenty and just a year older than Marie-Claire. His family lived locally too, just a few miles along the coast in Antibes where they also had an automobile business. Lizzie had only met him briefly twice, but he seemed a really nice lad and they were well suited; they both loved sport and music. It was just after eleven-thirty when Marie-Claire returned and had just made a coffee in the kitchen.