What Happens at the Beach... Read online

  ‘Ever contemplated a double homicide, cat?’ Natalie kept her voice down to a whisper and the cat just rewarded her with a yawn. She sat there, sipping her wine, until the glass was empty, resisting the urge to scream or weep. She had realised months ago that subconsciously she had been seeking a surrogate family when she had hooked up with David. It had been some time into the relationship before she had been introduced to his parents and it hadn’t taken long before she had begun to realise that this was not going to happen. As people, she and they were too different and these hopes had been crumbling more and more as she got to know them better. Now she knew they were totally crushed. Of course, she had been coming ever closer to this realisation, but it was only now, hearing it from the horse’s mouth, that it finally sank in. She could expect nothing from them. She was on her own, totally on her own; except for David, even if that was by no means certain any longer. She knew that she had to find him and seek reassurance from him. In spite of their arguments and in spite of her doubts, she desperately hoped she could still count on him, even if his family had shown its true colours. Angrily, she wiped the moisture from the corners of her eyes and pulled herself to her feet.

  Her instincts made her pick up the remains of the cat’s sausage roll before leaving, although she was in no mood to do favours for Marjorie. The cat, taking the hint, stood up, pushed the door open and strode through back into the kitchen, most probably on the lookout for another sausage roll. Natalie took a deep breath and followed him, ignoring the raised eyebrows of the two girls rinsing champagne glasses. They could think what they liked. She knew she had to find David as soon as possible.

  She dropped the bits of pastry in the bin, wiped her hands on a paper napkin and walked as calmly as she could along the corridor and into the living room. Avoiding making eye contact with any of the crowd of people in there, she scanned the room for signs of her fiancé. He wasn’t there, but she had a shrewd feeling she knew where she would find him. She went out onto the terrace and, from there, onto the lawn. At the far end, to one side of the rose arbour, was the little lawned area, surrounded by a laurel hedge and accessed through a wooden gate, that was always referred to as the secret garden. In there was a swing bed and lying stretched out on the leaf-patterned seat was David. His eyes were closed and he looked as if he was asleep. Natalie went straight over to him and grabbed him by the shoulder.

  ‘David, wake up.’ Her voice sounded strange to her, half-choked. His eyes opened at once and he sat up. He hadn’t been sleeping, but the dark rings under his eyes testified to how tired he was. In spite of his relaxed pose, his tie was still done up and he had been careful to avoid creasing his trousers, while the grey jacket of his suit was hanging neatly from the side of the frame. He immediately saw that something was wrong. Shifting over to one side, suppressing a yawn, he took her hand and guided her down onto the seat beside him.

  ‘What’s up, Nat? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

  She took a deep breath and recounted the conversation she had overheard, hoping she could count on his support. However, it soon turned out that her confidence was misplaced. As she came to the end of her tale, he reached for his champagne glass and swallowed half in one big gulp.

  ‘I’m so sorry you had to hear that, Nat, but you must understand that Mum has a point.’

  Natalie couldn’t believe her ears. ‘A point? What’s that supposed to mean, David?’

  ‘You have been working very hard, after all. She’s right about that.’

  ‘I’ve been doing a Ph-fucking-D, David. Of course I’ve been working hard.’ She was doing her best to keep her voice down, but it wasn’t easy.

  ‘And that’s another thing. Since you’ve gone back to being a full-time student, your language has deteriorated most awfully. You never used to swear like that.’

  Natalie caught his eye. They had argued about this before. ‘We both did, David, if you remember right. It’s just that you’ve now gone all prim and proper. Listen to yourself. You sound like an old maid.’

  ‘Don’t be so silly. I’ve told you tons of times, in my position I can’t allow myself to use words like that. It would be more than my job’s worth. And I do think you could make an effort to tone it down a bit, if not for my mother, at least for me.’

  ‘After what your precious mother has been saying about me, I am very, very close to telling her just what I think of her in good old-fashioned Anglo-Saxon.’ For the first time an expression of worry crossed his face.

  ‘For God’s sake, don’t do that, Nat. My boss is here, after all. You can’t let me down like that as well.’

  ‘As well? What does that mean? So you think I let you down? Just like your mother and your evil little sister were saying?’

  ‘Not all the time, Nat. Of course not. But you could make a bit of an effort; nicer clothes, a bit of make-up. Why, you even cut your own hair.’

  ‘I cut my own hair because I’m living on a student grant and I haven’t got the money to go to expensive hairdressers. And there’s no way I can afford the sort of dresses the women back there are wearing, even if I wanted them.’

  ‘I’d give you the money. All you have to do is ask.’

  ‘I haven’t asked you for any money so far and I’ve no intention of starting now. I pay my own way in this world and if I’m not classy enough for you and your precious family, you know what you can do.’ Natalie was furious with him but, deep down, maybe she wasn’t as surprised as all that. For months now she had sensed a change in his priorities, in his allegiance. Now he wasn’t even trying to understand how she had been made to feel. The fact that he was teaming up with his mother to criticise her, painful as it was, wasn’t completely unexpected. ‘Have you got that?’ She could hear the anger in her voice. He could hear it, too.

  ‘You going to swear at me again? For crying out loud, Nat!’

  ‘Don’t think I’m not tempted. You’re my fiancé, David. You’re supposed to be on my side. I’ve been working my butt off for three long years now and yet, to them, I’ve just been wasting my time. They called it a hobby.’

  ‘Well, it is, really, isn’t it? I mean, we both know that you’re going to end up as a mum, looking after our children. You’re never going to make a living out of medieval history now, are you?’

  Natalie was speechless for a few moments as she heard the same note of disdain in his voice she had heard from his mother. Finally, she looked up and their eyes met. ‘You just don’t get it, do you? You can’t even begin to imagine what it’s meant to me to have got my PhD. I didn’t do it for kudos, or respect, and it certainly wasn’t for money. I did it for me, for my own personal development, for my future. And yet, all I am to you is a baby-producing machine. Well, like it or not, I’ve chosen my path and I do intend to make a career out of it.’ Her head cleared as she came to the inevitable conclusion. ‘I think maybe you’d be better off with somebody else. Somebody who can provide you with the sort of trophy wife you and your bloody family are looking for.’

  He dropped his eyes and turned away, reaching for his jacket. ‘Maybe I would.’ He wasn’t speaking very loud, but she heard every word quite clearly.

  ‘Then you’d better have this back.’ She found herself twisting the engagement ring from her finger, the sunlight glittering in the cut facets of the cluster of diamonds as she did so. ‘You can tell your mother she doesn’t need to worry any more.’ She thrust the ring at him and headed for the gate. Behind her she heard him call her name, but only very quietly so as not to disturb any of the guests. She ignored him and left.

  It was a ten-minute walk to the station. When she got there she discovered that the next train to get her back to Cambridge would not be along for half an hour. She walked right to the far end of the platform and sat down on her own on a bench in the sun. It would have been very easy for her to bury her head in her hands and cry, but she had no intention of letting that happen until she was well away from David and his family. She dug in her bag for a ti
ssue and blew her nose, taking a series of long, slow breaths to calm her racing heart.

  She needed to speak to somebody, badly. In Cambridge there was just Amy, her oldest friend, and a few other girls she knew fairly well, and there was her supervisor, with whom she had grown pretty close, but that was about it. It was almost five years now since the crash that had robbed her of her parents. Without brothers and sisters, without her mother to turn to, and without David, that only left one guaranteed shoulder to cry on. She pulled out her phone and checked the time. It was almost three. In France, it would be almost four o’clock. Her grandmother should have woken from her afternoon snooze by now. Natalie flicked through her contacts until she reached Gran and pressed the green button.

  It was a while before she answered, but the old voice was unmistakable. ‘Oui, allô.’

  ‘Hello, Gran. It’s me, Natalie.’ She switched effortlessly into French.

  ‘Natalie, my darling girl, hello.’ Her mother and her grandparents had always spoken to her in French and Natalie had grown up bilingual as a result. As her doctoral thesis had been on the Cathars of southern France, the ability to read and speak fluent French had been a massive help to her in her research.

  ‘How are you, Gran?’

  ‘I’m all right, in a geriatric sort of way. The sun’s shining, the doctor still allows me a glass or two of wine, so I can’t complain. And how’re you?’

  ‘A bit low, to be honest.’

  ‘But you’ve only just been awarded your doctorate. You should be up on a cloud right now.’ A note of concern entered her grandma’s voice. ‘You’re not ill, are you?’

  ‘No, I’m fine. It’s just...’ She hesitated, unwilling to launch into a post-mortem of the afternoon’s events on the telephone. ‘I’ll tell you all about it when I see you.’ She suddenly felt very weary. ‘Gran, I was wondering. Would there be room for me over there for a few weeks? I’ve really got to get away.’

  ‘Of course, my child.’ The fact that Natalie was now thirty made no difference to her grandmother. She would always think of her only granddaughter as about ten years old. ‘I’d love to see you. Come as soon as you like and stay as long as you like.’

  Natalie thought fast. It was the middle of July now. She had finished all her commitments at the university and, particularly after the events of this afternoon, there was nothing and nobody to keep her in Cambridge. She didn’t hesitate. ‘I’ll come over as soon as possible, tomorrow if I can. I’ll get on the first flight I can find. I’m at the station waiting for a train at the moment. As soon as I get back home I’ll sort everything out, and I’ll call you this evening.’

  ‘That’s wonderful, as long as you’re sure. It’ll be so good to have you here again.’ Natalie could hear the pleasure in her grandma’s voice.

  ‘Of course I’m sure. Besides, I haven’t been down to Port Renard for ages now. I need to see if the beach has changed.’

  ‘The beach hasn’t changed, my dear. We have, but it hasn’t.’

  Not only was there a flight from Stansted to Perpignan the next day, there was still a spare seat at a reasonable price. And, after checking, Natalie was relieved to see that she had enough left in her current account after buying the ticket to still be able to go down to the cash machine and take out enough money to last her for a few weeks while staying with her grandmother, without digging into her very modest savings account. Even better, when she pulled out her passport, she found eighty euros tucked inside it, left over from her last trip to France. Satisfied that everything was arranged, she rang her grandmother to tell her what time she would be arriving.

  ‘The flight gets in just before three. I’ll get the bus into the station at Perpignan and, if all goes well, I should be in Banyuls by five or so. When I get there I’ll take a taxi along to you.’

  ‘I’d come and pick you up if they’d let me, dear. I’ve still got the car, you know. But the doctors said I can’t drive any more. They say it’s because of these drugs they’re giving me, but I think it’s just because they know I’m ninety. It’s prejudice, you know.’

  Natalie couldn’t help laughing at the outrage in her grandmother’s voice. ‘Don’t worry about it, Gran. I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward so very much to seeing you tomorrow night.’

  ‘Me, too, darling. Bon voyage.’

  After ringing off, Natalie looked down at her phone. The thought occurred to her that she should maybe call David to tell him where she was going. It was almost eight o’clock and he might well be on his way home by now. One thing she knew for sure was that she didn’t want to see him. After a few seconds’ hesitation she decided not to call him and dropped the phone in favour of a pen and a sheet of paper. The message she wrote was brief and to the point.

  David

  I’m going over to France to stay with my grandmother in Port Renard.

  Nat

  I’ll come and pick up the rest of my stuff when I get back.

  Next, she phoned her friend Amy to ask for a bed for the night. Although she tried her best to sound normal, her voice gave her away.

  ‘What is it, Nat? What’s happened?’

  Natalie took a deep breath. ‘David and I have split up.’

  ‘Oh, dear.’ Amy sounded surprised, but not that surprised. Natalie reflected that she had been speaking to Amy more and more over the past few months about her reservations and doubts as to her future with David. ‘Split up as in engagement off, or just taking a break?’

  ‘I gave him his ring back and told him where he could stick his whole bloody family.’

  ‘I’ll take that as engagement off, then.’ There was a pause. ‘Well, in a way, it’s sort of what you’ve been building up to.’

  ‘I don’t know, Amy. I suppose so.’ Natalie hesitated, wondering whether that really was true. ‘Brace yourself. I rather think you know what we’re going to be talking about tonight.’

  ‘I’ll be here waiting.’

  Natalie put the phone down and then collected enough clothes to last her for a few weeks, ensuring that she packed lightweight summer stuff, including sandals and her two bikinis, the elastic of one of which, she noticed, was beginning to go. She resolved to take a trip to the hypermarket in France to buy a new one as soon as she got over there. David’s mother, she reflected, had been pretty close to the mark in her barbed jibe about her clothes coming from the supermarket.

  ‘Well, we can’t all be bloody millionaires.’ She stuffed all her things into a bag, collected a few important books along with her laptop and left.

  Chapter 2

  When she came back up from the beach, her hair already beginning to dry in the increasingly hot sunshine, she found her grandmother resting in a wicker chair on the terrace, sheltered from the sun by the canopy of vines overhead. Natalie hung her towel on the line and went over to kiss her on the cheek. ‘You’re up early.’

  ‘Not as early as you, Natalie.’

  ‘Feel like some coffee?’

  ‘Tea please, dear. The way your father used to drink it. With milk.’

  Her grandmother had always been very fond of her English son-in-law and had even adopted some of his habits. Tea with milk was just one of them. Natalie went into the big old farmhouse kitchen and filled the kettle. Mention of her father reminded her of so many lovely times they had had here as a family while she was growing up. And he, she thought with a twinge of bitterness, still smarting from the things David and his mother had said, had made a successful career out of history. He had met her mother when she was a student at Montpellier University and he had been over for a year from England on an exchange. By the time of his death, not yet sixty, they had been married for thirty-five years and he had been a professor of history for twenty of them. So, Natalie reflected, as she took a tea bag out of the same old familiar tin, history was a damn sight more than a hobby, and David and his mother knew where they could stick it.

  She made two mugs of tea and took them out onto the terrace. As she set them down on
the table, she studied her grandmother’s face in the bright morning light. She was still as beautiful as ever and she had even put on some make-up in an attempt to hide the dark rings under her eyes. She was thinner than the last time Natalie had seen her, her hair now more white than grey and, of course, she was the last of Natalie’s family. And Natalie knew only too well that, when her gran died, she would be totally alone. It was a very scary thought. She sat down alongside her and reached over to take her hand.

  ‘How’re you feeling, Gran?’

  ‘I’m feeling fine, my dear.’ And, indeed, she looked bright and cheerful this glorious sunny morning. Her grandmother dropped her other hand down on top of Natalie’s. ‘These drugs are very good. To be honest, I almost feel I could walk down to the beach and go for a swim.’

  ‘Well, we could do that if you like. You said you’ve still got the car. I can drive you down to the beach if you want.’

  Her grandmother smiled; a gentle, weary smile. ‘Let’s see how I feel a bit later on. I’m not sure I’m really strong enough for a swim and, besides, my costume wouldn’t fit these days.’ She caught Natalie’s eye. ‘When I was your age I was oh so careful about what I ate, so as to keep my figure. Now I eat and I eat, but the weight just drops off me.’ She released Natalie’s hand and reached for her tea. She took a sip and breathed out appreciatively. ‘Ah, yes, that’s just right. Now, tell me all your news.’ Her expression darkened. ‘You’re looking very tired. What’s the trouble?’

  Natalie had arrived at the house at just after six o’clock the previous evening and found her grandmother laying the table out on the terrace. She had prepared a cold evening meal for them. True to her word, there was a bottle of cold white wine in the fridge and she helped Natalie drink most of it. Afterwards there were fresh figs from the old tree in the garden. Although the two of them chatted throughout their dinner, Natalie had steered clear of any reference to the events at Marjorie’s garden party. Her grandmother had soon begun to tire and both of them had gone to bed early. In consequence, they still had a lot of catching up to do. Now, in the cold light of day, Natalie knew the time had come to tell all. She looked across the table.