Sky's the Limit Page 2

  Dee was livid. What the hell did Gail think she was doing? First she dropped the Moroccan bombshell and now she was virtually showing them the door. She’d been planning on staying the night. She had been looking forward to drinking another bottle of wine, eating the leftovers and lazing in a bath scented with some very expensive bath oil, one of the few luxuries Gail allowed herself.

  She had even brought over some washing for her sister to do. What the hell was she supposed to do with that now? Her tiny flat was cold and uninviting and the thought of going back there was not appealing.

  Gail had ruined her whole birthday and she was furious.

  ‘Gail?’ Gail stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned around.

  ‘I just wanted to say thank you so much for a wonderful afternoon.’ Holly had followed her out of the lounge.

  ‘It was a pleasure, Holly. I hope you enjoyed yourself.’

  ‘I did, I always have a lovely time here. You spoil us, Gail, and you certainly spoil Dee. She doesn’t know how lucky she is to have an older sister like you.’ Holly paused. ‘I wish I did.’ She sounded wistful.

  ‘Oh, Holly, what a lovely thing to say.’ Gail flushed with pleasure. ‘Although I’m not sure Dee would agree, right now she has a face like thunder because I’ve pulled the plug on the party too early.’

  ‘It’s your house, you can do what you like, and besides we’ve been here for hours already.’ Holly paused for a moment. ‘I think it’s amazing that you’re going to Morocco. When did you decide? What does Sonny think?’

  ‘Sonny doesn’t know yet.’ Gail hesitated, glanced towards the lounge and then leant forward conspiratorially. ‘No one knows yet, I only decided five minutes ago.’ She laughed at the astonishment on Holly’s face. ‘I overheard what Dee said before I came into the lounge.’ Her voice wavered slightly. ‘It shocked me and I guess I wanted to prove that I wasn’t as dull as she made out. Bit daft really.’

  ‘Oh, Gail, I’m so sorry you heard that, I’m sure Dee didn’t really mean…’ Holly trailed off at the look on Gail’s face.

  ‘I think we both know she did, Holly.’ Gail ran her hands through her hair. ‘But, you know, maybe it was no bad thing I overheard her, maybe I have become dull and unadventurous, my fortieth is fast approaching so maybe it’s the kick up the arse I needed.’ She grinned at Holly. ‘I don’t know what I’ve let myself in for and I don’t mind telling you I’m shit scared.’

  Holly began to laugh. ‘Gail, you’re mad.’

  ‘Don’t you dare breathe a word of this to Dee. I don’t want her knowing what an idiot I am.’

  Dee left the lounge fully intending to talk to Gail about staying the night. She would insist that they open a couple more bottles of wine and then the girls could go home. She really didn’t want to go to a pub or a club, it would cost a fortune and what was the point when Gail had loads of booze left here.

  She saw Holly and Gail giggling together and her mood darkened. She cleared her throat. Gail looked around.

  ‘Hi, darling, Holly was just thanking me for a lovely party. I hope you enjoyed it too.’ Gail moved towards her but Dee turned away.

  ‘Well, yeah of course.’ She shrugged. ‘I just thought that…’

  ‘I see you brought a bag of washing with you,’ Gail interrupted. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t have time to do it now, sweetheart, but you can come back later in the week and pick it up.’

  Dee felt rather than saw the look of amazement on Holly’s face.

  ‘Jesus, it doesn’t really matter, don’t make a big thing out of it,’ she mumbled ungraciously even though this was exactly what she had wanted.

  ‘Gail, thank you once again.’ Holly was shocked by Dee’s behaviour. They all knew that she liked to get her own way, but this was a side she had never really seen before. ‘I’m off home now, Dee, I’ve an early start tomorrow. I’ll um, well, I guess I’ll see you around.’ She blew Gail a kiss and headed back into the lounge.

  ‘What a lovely girl.’ Gail smiled brightly. ‘Well, night, Dee. I’ll give Sonny a goodnight cuddle from you, no need to come up.’

  And as the two sisters looked at each other they realised that something had changed, the earth had tilted a fraction, something had shifted in their relationship, something infinitesimal had altered the dynamics and it would never be quite the same again.

  CHAPTER THREE.

  Philippe swore loudly. Roused from her slumber, Belle looked up and farted equally loudly. They regarded one another before Philippe wrinkled his nose in disgust.

  Delighted that she seemed to have pleased her master, the old bitch settled back to sleep.

  Philippe focused once more on the paperwork spread out on the desk. Nothing seemed to make sense; the figures danced before his eyes, taunting him. It simply didn’t add up, in theory they should be doing OK, in fact they should be doing more than OK, but that was not what the accounts were saying.

  Pushing his glasses back onto his head he stretched out his long frame, flinging his arms wide and knocking over his walking stick. Swearing loudly again he bent to pick it up and limped over to the open window.

  The air was soft and fragrant but for once he failed to find any comfort in the view.

  Instead of seeing the beauty of a courtyard bathed in the gentle morning light, he saw the weeds growing up between the old flagstones. A large crack ran up one side of the elegant stone fountain and moss had gathered around the base. The ancient barns for which he’d once had such grand plans stood derelict and abandoned, the beautiful sandstone gleaming in the sun. Even the regimented rows of vines normally guaranteed to set his pulse racing failed to lift his spirits. The early morning mist stopped him from glimpsing the River Dordogne in the distance but in his present state he very much doubted that would have helped either.

  Turning away he hobbled back to the desk and glanced at the clock. It was eleven, perfect time for a pastis. In fact that was the beauty of pastis, there was never a time that wasn’t perfect.

  ‘Wine is for mealtimes, Philippe,’ his father used to say. ‘Pastis is for all the other times in between.’

  He smiled, recalling his father’s words. ‘Roll it around your mouth, let it slide down your throat and stimulate your senses.’

  Pouring a hefty measure into the glass, he topped it up with water and, swirling the liquid around, watched it turn cloudy. As a young lad he had thought it a miraculous sight and he still did.

  The phone rang recalling him abruptly to the present day. He picked it up.

  ‘Philippe.’ The unmistakeable husky tones of his ex-wife.

  ‘Beatrice.’ He took a long swig of his drink. Philippe loved his ex-wife but he wasn’t really in the mood right now.

  ‘What is the matter, cheri?’

  ‘Bea, I’ve only said your name.’

  ‘I’ve know you for a long while. I know when something is wrong.’

  ‘I’m in pain, Bea.’ He sighed. ‘I’m on heavy duty painkillers and I’m in a lot of pain.’

  ‘Of course you’re in pain. You have torn your cruciate ligament. You deserve to be in pain, you should act your age instead of tearing down the ski slopes like a ridiculous teenager.’

  ‘Such words of comfort, Bea, you cheer me up no end.’

  ‘And maybe you should think twice before mixing pastis with painkillers.’

  He stared at the glass in front of him. Sometimes her ability to read him so well was unnerving.

  ‘Philippe, what’s really wrong? What is really worrying you?

  He drained his drink and leant back in the chair. She wouldn’t give up, he knew that.

  ‘Money,’ he said bluntly. ‘I’m staring at rows of figures that make absolutely no sense to me.’

  ‘I thought last year had been a good year?’

  ‘So did I, but apparently not on paper. On paper it looks like last year was a catastrophe.’

  ‘But that’s crazy,’ she argued. ‘You spent money on the Chai, admittedly, but you also had ne
w buyers for the wine, it doesn’t add up.’

  ‘No, cheri, it doesn’t.’

  ‘Where is cousin Claude? Why isn’t he sitting beside you guiding you through all this? Isn’t that his job?’

  There was a slight pause before Philippe replied. ‘Claude and Celine are on holiday.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘St Lucia.’

  ‘Mon Dieu.’

  ‘Bea, they’re entitled to a holiday.’

  There was a silence. He could imagine her expression, her ice blue eyes darkening in anger, her finely drawn eyebrows closing together in a frown. To stall further discussion he spoke light-heartedly.

  ‘Did you phone to berate me for skiing too fast and warn against the dangers of pastis?’ he asked ‘Or was there some other reason?’

  She laughed. That husky, sexy laugh that he had first fallen in love with.

  Their courtship had been passionate, wild and tumultuous. The love in their young hearts had made their eyes blind to the fact that they were totally incompatible. The marriage had been a complete disaster but the divorce amicable. That had been many years ago and they had remained best friends ever since.

  ‘No, I want to talk to Stephanie,’ she said, referring to his sister. ‘I need to go to Paris and I thought we could have a few days together. Would she like that?’

  ‘She would absolutely adore it, as you know, but at the moment she is out with Emmaline choosing hens.’

  ‘Emmie?’ Bea sounded puzzled.

  ‘You know how much Emmie loves animals.’

  ‘No, I mean why is Emmie with you?’ Bea asked quietly. ‘Why the hell isn’t she with her parents in St Lucia?’

  Philippe poured himself another drink. ‘Well, I think they needed some time on their own,’ he replied carefully. ‘You know it’s a very long flight for her.’

  ‘Then they should have gone somewhere nearer,’ Bea interrupted him sharply. ‘I don’t understand why you persist in making excuses for them, Philippe. They didn’t take her because they are ashamed of her. They don’t need time on their own, they’re always on their own, they never take Emmie with them anywhere, they –’

  ‘Bea, stop,’ Philippe cut in quickly. ‘I’m not in the mood for all this. Of course they aren’t ashamed of her, that’s a terrible thing to say. No one in their right mind could be ashamed of her.’

  ‘But are they in their right minds, Philippe?’ she replied coldly. ‘They don’t see Emmie as we see her. We see an angel with a soul full of love and happiness. Claude and Celine look at their daughter and they see a girl who is slow and they are embarrassed by her and it makes me furious.’

  ‘Bea…’ But she ignored him.

  ‘I will never understand them, and I will never understand why you take their side.’

  There was a pause. Philippe opened the desk drawer and reached for his cigarettes, then he remembered their bargain. ‘Are you keeping to our pact?’

  ‘Yes,’ Beatrice lied, looking guiltily at the ashtray in front of her. ‘And you?’

  ‘Of course.’

  He’s lying, Beatrice thought. I bet he has a packet in the drawer. I have upset him, he hates anyone criticising his family, he will light up as soon as we are off the phone.

  I don’t believe her, Philippe grinned. She’s angry, she hates what she perceives as injustice, she will light up as soon as we are off the phone.

  He closed his eyes and pictured the scene. Her hands would be wrapped around a large cup of coffee, her sandals would be discarded, her pedicured feet with red toenails would be up on the table and her chair would be tilted back at an alarming angle, allowing her to glimpse the pool in the inner courtyard.

  Beatrice was an only child and her parents had left her a small fortune when they died. She had converted the large family home in Paris into a stylish and unique hotel. People loved it: quirky, warm and welcoming, it had been an immediate success.

  Constantly on the search for new projects, she had then bought a ramshackle riad in Marrakech. Leaving the Parisian hotel in the capable hands of a smart hotel manager, she had moved to Morocco a few years later and set about converting the old riad into one of the most magical and enchanting places that Philippe had ever been to. He loved staying there.

  Once again, as if reading his mind, she broke into his thoughts. ‘Cheri, you must come out here. You sound weary and worried. Your skiing holiday was, for obvious reasons, not a success.’

  He laughed.

  ‘I am serious, Philippe, come here, let Bushara cook for you, we can go through your figures and you can listen to my latest business plan.’

  She paused but he didn’t reply. He was conjuring up the scent of jasmine by the pool, the intoxicating smell of the spices in the souk, the taste of Bushara’s succulent lamb tagine, the heat of the sun and the sound of the muezzin in the distance.

  ‘Philippe, are you listening to me?’ she said in exasperation. ‘I’m not taking no for an answer. I’m going to book the damn flights today.’

  Philippe was smiling to himself as he realised that this was exactly what he needed. ‘Go ahead, Bea, book the bloody flights.’

  Astonished at his easy capitulation she realised he really must be feeling rough. ‘I haven’t exactly helped you this morning, have I, cheri?’

  ‘On the contrary, it’s always a challenge talking to you, Bea, you make me think.’ He heard a car pull into the driveway. ‘Stephanie is back, do you want to speak to her now or call her later?’

  ‘I’ll call her later. Go and see the chickens and give Emmie a hug from me.’

  He heard the car door slam and hobbled to the doorway. Emmie was coming slowly through the front door, nursing something in her arms. She looked at him and smiled and as always his heart turned over. Her chubby round face was alive with excitement and behind thick glasses her big blue eyes were sparkling. She knelt down and gently placed the bundle onto the floor at his feet. He gazed down in utter astonishment.

  ‘Me’s got a piglet,’ she proudly announced, beaming up at him.

  ‘Yes, Emmie, I can see that.’ Philippe stared at the tiny pink squirming animal. ‘The question is why?’ He looked enquiringly over the top of Emmie’s head at his sister.

  ‘He was the runt of the litter,’ Stephanie replied sheepishly.

  ‘He was getting no milk,’ Emmie added. ‘He was going to die.’ She paused for dramatic effect. ‘Die badly.’

  Philippe looked at each of them in amazement.

  ‘Emmie fell in love with him,’ Stephanie tried to explain further. ‘She was desperate to look after him and Giles simply couldn’t refuse her.’

  Still Philippe remained silent.

  ‘She’s thought of such a clever name,’ Stephanie persevered. ‘Tell Uncle Philippe his name, cheri.’

  ‘Sausage!’ Emmie shouted with joy, throwing her arms around his knees. ‘We’ve got us a sausage, Uncle Philly.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I had no idea what I was doing here. It had never occurred to me before to go to Marrakech on my own and yet here I was standing in the queue for check-in. How the hell had that happened? I glanced down at a case I couldn’t even remember packing.

  Everyone knew that I’d wanted to go Marrakech for as long as I could remember. They all knew how excited I was and I simply hadn’t felt able to tell anyone why I now didn’t want to go. I’d stayed holed up in the flat, alternating between surges of white-hot rage and utter wretchedness.

  There were only two people in the world I’d ever felt happy confiding in: one was my sister, but she was touring Australia enjoying a belated honeymoon, there was no way I could suddenly drop this bombshell on her; and the other, of course, was Nick.

  My heart somersaulted as once again I realised how much I had lost. I gasped out loud. The little boy in front of me in the queue turned around in surprise, his huge brown eyes gazing at me with curiosity. I quickly gave him a reassuring smile and he grinned back.

  Out of the corner of my eye I sense
d movement and wheeled around in time to see a figure running towards me. A very familiar figure, a figure with long loping strides. It was Nick, his face was flushed and his red hair was standing on end, he saw me and slid to an abrupt halt. He stood there uncertainly, as if unsure of the next move.

  What on earth was he doing here? Despite his best efforts I hadn’t spoken to him since the day my world had been turned upside down. Seeing him unexpectedly now, I realised how much I had missed him.

  I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Of course, he’s coming to tell me that it’s all been a mistake, he and Miles have made the most terrible mistake. It was a moment of madness, a rush of blood to the head, of course Miles doesn’t want to leave me.

  Where was Miles? I looked beyond Nick but couldn’t see him. He was probably parking the car, he was slightly anal about parking the car and frankly it was something that had always annoyed me. That must be it, he had dropped Nick off and was parking the car.

  Thank God I hadn’t told anyone, no one else need ever know. I let out a long sigh of relief and the kid in front turned around again but I didn’t care.

  Of course it might not be easy at first, it would be slightly awkward, but surely we could put it all behind us, we could carry on as before. There may even come a time when we would look back and laugh about it, I thought.