Rough Cut (13 page)

   “Would you like to go to the beach for a swim after you’ve settled in?” he asked.

   “That would be great,” she replied with a smile. “I’d like that.”

   “Good. I’ll come back in an hour. Is that enough time?”

   Eloise nodded and Jacques left her to return to the Esprit. After he had gone, she unpacked her bag and put her clothes away before extracting her phone from her shorts and tapping in her mother’s number.

   “Hello?” Nicole answered.

   “Hello Mum. It’s Eloise here.”

   “Cherie, how are you? How did the conference go? And the boat trip to Monte Carlo?”

   “Oh, great. It all went really well. But the reason I’m ringing is to let you know that I’ve decided to stay here for another week. I’ve…” she hesitated before continuing as she considered how to break the news about Jacques to her mother, “I’ve met someone.”

   “Oh, I see.” Nicole’s disappointment was clear to Eloise from the tone of her voice as she continued, “I was really looking forward to you coming home today. I’ve missed you so much. It’s very quiet here without you.”

   “I know, Mum, and I’m sorry about that, but this guy… Oh, what can I say. What can I tell you about him?”

   “How about his name, for a start?” quipped Nicole, overcoming her disappointment.

   Eloise smiled. “His name is Jacques Armand and he owns the boat we hired for the trip to Monaco. Oh, Mum, he is just
so
amazing! I feel as if I’ve been waiting for him all my life.”

   “I see. So when
will
you be home then?”

   “A week tomorrow, if that’s OK?”

   “Yes, all right,” said Nicole, “And then you can tell me all about this perfect man you’ve found.” Eloise smiled as her mother continued. “And make sure you pay Grandpa a visit while you’re there.”

   “Of course,” said Eloise with a nod and then a more serious expression took over as she removed the sheet of paper covered in numbers from her pocket and looked at it.

   “Mum, before you go,” she said, “You remember Rob’s email, the strange one with all the numbers on it?”

   “Yes, yes I do. Why do you ask?”

   “Well, it’s really strange,” said Eloise, “but  I’ve found something that looks just like it, only hand written. It was on Jacques’ boat. Have you still got the printout of Rob’s one?”

   Nicole paused before answering. “No, sweetheart, I haven’t. I threw it away,” she lied. Nicole didn’t want Eloise to know about Carter and the investigation he was conducting into Philippe’s activities.

   “Oh well. Never mind. I don’t suppose it means anything anyway. See you in a week. Bye, Mum.”

   In the lounge at Darrington Hall, Nicole replaced the telephone receiver and thought for a few moments about what her daughter had told her. She shook her head unhappily, picked up the phone again and tapped in Carter’s number.

   “Carter? Is that you? You sound very faint.”

   “I’m just driving under a bridge. Hold on a second… Is that better?”

   “Much better. Carter, I’ve just had a call from Eloise. As you know, she’s in Port Grimaud. The thing is, she says she’s found another of those odd messages. You know, like the printout I gave you.”

   There was a pause before Carter responded. When he did it was in a matter of fact tone. “In that case, I think I’d better get over there sooner rather than later and talk to her.”

   “No! Wait!” Nicole was anxious. The thought of Carter rushing over to France and getting Eloise caught up in whatever it was that was going on frightened her. “I don’t want her getting dragged into this, Carter. Please! Promise me that you won’t let her get involved.”

   “I can’t promise that, Nikki. You know I can’t,” said Carter, wanting to please Nicole but aware of his responsibility to follow up on this new lead.

   “You must! She’s all I have left now. Promise me that you won’t involve her, that you’ll keep her out of it.”

   Carter took a deep breath as he considered how to reconcile his two conflicting objectives. “Look, I’ll do my best, OK?” he said, in the hope that it would put Nicole’s mind at rest but it did not.

   “That’s not good enough, Carter!” she said, beginning to get angry with him. “This is really important to me. I helped you when you asked me to. Now promise me.” She paused to give weight to what she was going to say next. “Or I’ll never speak to you again.”

   “OK, OK. I promise,” said Carter without hesitation. “I promise I will
try
to keep her out of it. That much I can do.”

   Nicole relaxed a little on hearing his promise. It was less than she wanted but she knew it was all she was going to get.

   “OK, I suppose I can’t ask more than that,” she said as she breathed a long sigh of relief and ended the call. She hoped Carter would be true to his word. She had already lost one of her children and the thought of losing the other made her tremble with fear, so much so that she decided to make another call.

_________________________

   An hour later, Philippe was pacing up and down his living room as Gilles sat in the armchair and listened.

   “I have had another call from Nicole,” he said, “asking me again what I am involved in.”

   “What did you tell her?”

   Philippe looked at Gilles as if at someone who had just lost his sense of reason. “What do you think I told her?” he retorted. “I told her nothing.”

   “Then what is there to worry about?” Gilles held out his hands questioningly whereupon Philippe stopped pacing and turned to look at Gilles.

    ”Nicole is worried because Eloise, my granddaughter, is over here. She says she does not want her to be involved in anything illegal that I might be doing.” Gilles nodded at this before Philippe continued. “She also let it slip that Carter Jefferson is on his way here. She did not say why but I think he could be trouble; I am not his favourite person in the world. We need to find out how much he knows and who he is working for.”

_________________________

   In her hotel, Eloise looked at her watch as she finished unpacking her bag and noted that she still had three quarters of an hour to go before Jacques would be calling for her. Although she didn’t really want to visit her grandfather, she knew it was unavoidable, especially as she was now staying on for another week, and staying in Port Grimaud at that. She decided to get the visit to Philippe over and done with so that, having done her duty, she could relax and enjoy herself.

   It took Eloise about ten minutes to complete the U-shaped walk along the Rue Grande, through the Place du Marché, along the Rue Du Ponant and then down the Rue des Deux-Iles to Philippe’s house. When she got there, she took a deep breath and then rapped her knuckles on the door. A few moments later, Philippe pulled the door open and a broad smile crossed his face as he saw Eloise standing these.

   “Eloise, ma Cherie! It is good to see you. Come in, come in.” They went into the living room together as Philippe continued, “How is your mother?”

   “As well as can be expected, I suppose,” said Eloise and a frown appeared on Philippe’s brow.

   “Yes, she must be going through hell.”

   “To put it mildly. I think she’ll be glad when I get home.”

   “Of course she will. It’s good that she has you to help her at this time.”

   Eloise and Philippe continued the polite chit-chat for about twenty minutes before Eloise looked at her watch.

   “I must go,” she said, getting to her feet. “I have to meet someone at the hotel in ten minutes.”

   “In Sainte Maxime? I think you will be late.” Philippe laughed as he spoke and got to his feet.

   “No, I’ve moved to the Hotel Giraglia, here in Port Grimaud.”

   “You are staying in Port Grimaud?” Eloise nodded and Philippe added, “But then you must stay here with me, in my house.”

   Eloise’s expression said it all but she tried to find the right words. “That’s very kind of you Grandpa but I’ve booked in at the hotel now and I don’t want to impose on you. I know you use the house as your office as well.”

   “As you wish,” said Philippe, accepting her decision, “But if you change your mind…”

   Eloise smiled and stood on her tip toes to give Philippe a kiss on the cheek before she left to return to the hotel.

_________________________

   Jacques left the Esprit at twelve o’clock to call for Eloise and as he approached the hotel, he heard someone calling from above.

   “Jacques! Up here.”

   He looked up and saw Eloise leaning over the rough wooden balustrade on the balcony of her first floor room. She was smiling and waving furiously. The sun lit her face from the side and through the rustic balusters, he could see the shape of her legs. He waved back and continued round the corner to the hotel entrance.

   Eloise opened the door to her room as soon as she heard Jacques knock. Inside, he saw that she was not quite ready. She had been in the middle of changing into her beach clothes when Jacques had arrived and her legs and feet were still unclad.

   “I won’t be long,” she said. “Sit down a minute.”

   Jacques sat on the bed. A gentle breeze blew in through the open French window and wafted Eloise’s perfume towards him as she reached over and behind him for her shorts which were on the bed. A combination of her own scent and that of her perfume filled Jacques’ nostrils but he resisted the temptation to put his arms around her and pull her onto the bed. He watched her put on her shorts and do them up before slipping her feet into her flip-flops and grabbing her sunglasses from the dressing table.

   “I’m ready,” she said, standing in front of him, a mischievous smile seeming to tickle the corners of her mouth.

   As they left the room, Eloise pulled the door shut behind her and Jacques took her hand in his. They walked briskly along the corridor, down the stairs and past the reception desk before leaving the hotel. Together they walked along the Rue Grande in the direction of the Place des Six Canons and through a gap between the apartment blocks onto the beach.

   The beach was teeming with people, most of whom were content to just lie in the sun. Their bodies ranged in colour from a very pale couple who had obviously only just arrived from the north, probably Paris, to a man of about thirty who was laboriously, and very obviously, oiling his dark brown skin, very little of which was covered by his extremely skimpy swimming trunks.

   Apart from the sunbathers, there were a few couples and groups playing beach tennis and boules, while still others, less energetic, reclined under bright parasols, reading magazines and newspapers. Hardly anyone was in the sea.

   Jacques led Eloise to a vacant patch of beach where he laid out his towel before dropping his shorts and pulling off his tee-shirt. He watched as Eloise followed suit. Under her shorts and tee-shirt, she was wearing a white satin bikini with high-cut legs and a brief halter-neck top. Jacques thought she looked stunning in it and proudly puffed out his chest.

   “Swim?” he asked when he thought the neighbouring sunbathers had looked at her long enough.

   Eloise nodded and kicked off her flip-flops before taking the hand Jacques was holding out to her and walking down to the sea with him. At one point, as they negotiated the sharp shells and pebbles near the waterline, Eloise lurched unsteadily and reached out for Jacques. He caught her in his arms and looked into her eyes. For a few moments, their bodies were locked together. He didn’t want to let go of her but she regained her feet and pulled away from him.

   “Come on!” she called as she ran the last few yards down the steeply sloping beach and dived into the sea. Jacques ran after her and together they swam out to the sand-bar about fifty yards from the water’s edge. For several minutes they larked about, splashing and chasing each other as they laughed freely, in no way inhibited by the mass of people on the beach.

   After their swim, Jacques lay on his back next to Eloise enjoying the feel of the sun beating down on him as he dried off. Suddenly he felt something hard land on his stomach. He sat up and looked around him. Eloise was lying on her back, her eyes closed and her left knee raised slightly. Jacques looked around for the object that had struck him; it was a bottle of sun tan lotion. He picked it up and looked at Eloise again. She opened one eye and squinted at him, a smile spreading across her face.

   “Did you do that?” Jacques asked.

   Eloise nodded. “I need someone to rub it on my back.” She rolled over onto her front, undid the strap of her bikini top and stretched her arms out above her head expectantly.

   Jacques opened the bottle and squeezed some lotion onto her back. She shivered with the coolness of it. He knelt beside her and started to rub the lotion into her skin. As his hands passed over her body, this way and that, gradually he reached further down towards her bottom and further round towards her breasts, now squashed beneath her body.

   “Jacques,” he heard her say, “that’s enough, thank you.”

   Jacques didn’t want to stop, but he did. He wiped his hands on his tee-shirt and lay back on his towel as Eloise sat up, clutching her bikini top to her chest modestly. She touched his shoulder.

   “Don’t you want some on? You might get burnt. I can put some on for you, if you like.”

   Jacques turned his head to look at her. “No, I never use it. It makes you all sticky.” He pulled a disgusted face and then smiled.

   “OK.” Eloise fastened her bikini top in place and put on her sunglasses. “So! Now it’s your turn to tell me a bit about you. I don’t really know anything about you and I’d like to.”

   “What do you want to know?”

   “Whatever you want to tell me.”

   Jacques lifted himself onto one elbow and looked into her face. He told her about growing up in Port Grimaud with his mother; about the appalling way she had been treated by some of the town’s people; about his absent and anonymous father who gave him expensive presents on his birthday each year. He told her about his poor showing at school and about his job as a petrol pump attendant. He told her about his twenty-first birthday and about the money which his father had given him.