Life's a Beach and Then... (The Liberty Sands Trilogy Book 1) (16 page)

A fly was buzzing round the room, occasionally landing for a
few seconds before taking flight again. It was annoying Philippe but he was so
tired he couldn’t be bothered to drag himself out of bed to swat it or open the
door to the verandah to set it free. He hadn’t slept for more than a few hours
a night for the past eight weeks but last night he had finally finished the
book and emailed it to his publisher. He had crawled into bed at 2 a.m. without
even brushing his teeth, which he now regretted as they felt positively furry,
and fallen asleep within minutes.

The fly landed on his hand and he took an ineffectual swipe
at it. It’s no good, he thought, I’m not going to get back to sleep. He rolled
over to check his bedside clock and was astonished to see that it was 4 p.m.
Reluctantly he swung his legs out of bed and headed to the bathroom. While he
was brushing his teeth he decided he would go over to the Plantation House
hotel that evening to have dinner with Robert and Rosemary. He had barely seen
them in two months and he was feeling guilty for neglecting them, particularly
as they had introduced him to Holly. He was still looking at his unshaven
reflection in the mirror, after rinsing the foamy toothpaste away, and noticed
with amusement that even the thought of her caused him to smile. Although he
loved Mauritius he was anxious to pack his things and head back to the UK to
see her again. Who would have thought that he would find love at his age?

He desperately wanted a shower and a shave but first he
needed to check his email to make sure that his editor had received his
manuscript. He moved towards his desk feeling a flutter of nerves in his belly
and clicked the inbox on his laptop. Sure enough there was an email from Jo,
and even without opening it he could see the first few words:

OMG Phil, this is bloody...

Bloody what, thought Philippe? He couldn’t bear it if his
editor hated what he had spent every waking hour working on for the last two
months. He hovered the arrow over the email then closed his eyes as he clicked
the left button. He took a deep breath and opened one eye... the next word was
BRILLIANT.

Philippe didn’t read the rest of the email, he let out a
shriek and then started jumping around the room shouting, ‘YES... YES... YES,’
at the top of his voice! His only disappointment was that there was no one
there to share his happy news with. Right, he thought, I’m going to shower and
head to the Plantation House early. I’ll buy the champagne and Robert, Rosemary
and I can have our own Happy Hour before dinner.

Less than an hour later a freshly showered and shaved
Philippe was striding up the front steps of the hotel two at a time. The first
person he saw in the vaulted reception area was the assistant manager Vikram.

‘Afternoon, Vikram. Do you happen to know where my friends
the Forresters are? I’ve got some fantastic news I want to share with them.’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Philippe, they checked out two days ago.’

Philippe stopped mid-stride, unable to believe what he was
hearing.

‘Are you sure, Vikram? I’m certain they wouldn’t have left
without saying goodbye.’

‘I’m sure, sir, but they did leave a note for you.’

Vikram went behind the front desk and retrieved an envelope
with the solitary word Philippe scribbled on the front in Robert’s handwriting.
Philippe opened it:

Philippe,

I’m afraid we have to go back to England.
It’s a shame that your latest book prevented us from spending more time
together. We both hope it is as successful as your first book was
.

Robert and Rosemary

Philippe looked down at the sheet of paper in his hand in
disbelief. It was always more difficult to interpret the written word rather
than the spoken word but this felt almost like a rebuke. And why had Robert
written it rather than Rosemary? Was she that annoyed with him that she
couldn’t even bring herself to write him a note?

He muttered under his breath, ‘I thought she understood that
a writer needs time to write!’

He crumpled the paper in his fist, tossed it into a wastepaper
bin, and left as quickly as he had arrived, all feeling of elation replaced
with outrage.

Holly woke with a start as the train jolted to a halt at
Clapham Junction. It was a good job, she thought, or I would have ended up at
Victoria and then had to get a train back to Clapham Junction for the
connection to Reading. A quick glance up at the departures screen told her the
platform number of the next train to Reading and also that she had precisely
four minutes to negotiate the two lots of steps with her suitcase bumping along
behind her.

Fortunately it was the middle of the day so the train
carriage was not busy and she was able to stand her case in front of the seat
next to her to keep an eye on it. Not that there’s much in my suitcase worth
pinching, she thought, apart from my laptop, but a thief wouldn’t know that
until they had forced the case open.

It wasn’t until the train was pulling out of the station at
Virginia Water more than thirty minutes later that Holly realised she hadn’t
switched on her mobile phone. She reached into her handbag, turned it on and
keyed in her four-digit security code. A minute later her phoned beeped to
alert her that she had new messages. She looked at the screen. There were eight
missed calls and three new messages. Crikey, I’m popular, she thought, hitting
the button that would identify the missed callers details.

As well as the number of her voicemail service and Harry’s
number, there was a mobile number she didn’t recognise that had called her six
times. She dialled 901 intrigued. The most recent voice message was from Harry:
‘Hi, Mum. Give me a call to let me know you got back safely.’

She was smiling broadly thinking of her caring son as she
began to listen to the second message, but her smile soon faded:

‘Holly, it’s Robert Forrester. I hope you are well. I’ve
tried your number several times as I didn’t really want to leave you a message
but I guess I’ll have to.’ That would explain the missed calls from the number
I didn’t recognise, thought Holly. She had only taken Rosemary’s mobile number
not that of her husband. ‘I don’t want to worry you but we’re back in the UK
and Rosemary is asking if you can come and visit as a matter of urgency. Please
give me a call when you get this message.’

Holly’s heart plummeted and her hands were shaking as she
dropped the phone back into her bag. If the Forresters were back in the UK it
could mean only one thing: Rosemary’s health must have deteriorated. She would
ring from her land-line the moment she got home. This was a conversation she
couldn’t have with a signal dropping in and out on a mobile phone.

The rest of the journey to Reading seemed to take an age and
when the train finally pulled in to the station Holly rushed for the taxi rank
as quickly as her luggage would allow. Typical, she thought, seeing at least a
dozen people already queuing and no taxis in sight. One rounded the corner and
in desperation Holly did something completely out of character.

She went to the front of the queue and said to the smartly
dressed man carrying a briefcase, ‘I wouldn’t normally ask but would you mind
terribly if I took this cab? I’ve just heard that my friend is dying and I need
to see her.’

The man took one look at her pale face and panic-stricken
eyes then stood aside holding the taxi door open for her. There were a few
glares and mutterings from people further back in line who hadn’t heard the
exchange but Holly didn’t care. She was thinking through what she had just
said. How bad was Rosemary? Was she actually dying? Tears spilled down Holly’s
cheeks.

Fifteen minutes later Holly let herself into her little
terraced house, reached into the desk drawer for her address book and found the
Forresters’ home number. Robert answered on the fourth ring.

‘Forrester speaking.’

‘Robert, it’s Holly. What’s happened. Is Rosemary OK?’

‘Holly, thank God it’s you. Rosie has been asking for you.’

In the background Holly could just make out Rosemary’s
voice. ‘Can she come, Bobby?’

Without waiting for him to ask the question Holly said, ‘I’ll
be there as quickly as I can but you have to tell me what’s happened.’

Robert told her that Rosemary had started to feel unwell
about a month after Holly had flown home. She was having excruciating headaches
that no amount of paracetamol could touch and she was starting to have dizzy
spells. Then one morning Robert had been unable to wake her.

‘I thought I’d lost her, Holly,’ Robert said in a muffled
voice, fighting back tears. ‘I phoned for the hotel doctor but by the time he
arrived I had managed to rouse Rosie. He wanted her admitted to the hospital in
Port Louis for tests but Rosie was adamant that she wanted to come home so they
sent an ambulance to take us to the airport instead. It was all such a rush I
barely had time to pack. Thankfully she slept for most of the flight and then
an ambulance met us at Gatwick to take her straight to University College
Hospital. It was during the ambulance ride that she told me you knew everything
and begged me to ring you. That was two days ago and I’ve been trying to reach
you since.’

Holly groaned. ‘I’ve just got back from Dubai and I didn’t
have my phone on the last day I was there because I was fed up with constant
interruptions when I was trying to work.’

There was a pause on the other end of the phone and then a
confused Robert said, ‘You’ve been working in Dubai?’

Holly was too tired to try and explain. ‘I’ll tell you all
about it when I see you. So how is Rosemary now?’

‘Well, they hooked her up to an intravenous drip with the
experimental drug they wanted her to try months ago and it seems to be working
for the moment. They kept her in overnight and gave her another chemotherapy
session yesterday before letting her come home. We were back at the hospital
this morning for another three hours, in fact we only got home about ten
minutes before you rang.’

Robert sounded exhausted and Holly was furious with herself
for not being on the other end of the phone when her friends needed her.

‘How did you explain it to Philippe?’ she asked.

‘We left in such a rush that I just scribbled him a quick
note to tell him we had to come home and left it with the hotel reception. We
hadn’t really seen much of him after you left because he’s been busy writing,
which of course I totally understand with deadlines to meet.’

‘Maybe you should let him know what’s really going on with
Rosemary?’

‘I agree, Holly, but it’s Rosie’s decision and at the moment
she doesn’t want to tell anyone else but us.’

Holly heard Rosemary’s voice in the background again. ‘What
time will she be here Bobby?’

‘Tell her I’m leaving right now,’ said Holly grabbing her
car keys.

The traffic on the M4 and M25 motorways had been fairly
light as Holly had beaten the afternoon rush hour but it was still almost two
hours before she took the exit at junction 6 onto the A22 towards Woldingham.
She followed the directions Robert had hastily given her, turning left up the
hill by the station and then right into a private road. There were no house
numbers, instead she was looking out for a house called ‘Valley View’ which he
had simply described as single storey at the front and painted white. She
spotted it on the right-hand side and turned into the gravel driveway, pulling
up outside the dark oak, double front doors. Before she had even got out of the
car the front door was open and Robert was crunching across the gravel to greet
her.

He flung his arms around her. ‘Thank you so much for coming
so quickly.’

Holly was taken aback by his appearance. Gone was the suave
elegant Robert she had met in Mauritius nine weeks previously. He had lost
weight, his eyes were sunken and dark-rimmed and he had the look of a desperate
man.

‘It’s all right, Robert. I’m here now,’ she said gently.

She followed him into the house and, despite the reason for
the visit, couldn’t help but gasp in wonder at the magnificence of the
interior. She was standing on a galleried landing with stairs descending from
either side down to the reception area on the lower level. There was a huge
double height window the width of the room showcasing the most amazing view of
the valley and the wooded Surrey hillside beyond. Of course, she reminded
herself, you would expect no less from an architect of Robert’s reputation. She
hoped Harry would one day design something so stunning.

‘Holly, is that you?’ Rosemary’s voice brought her sharply
back to the present. ‘I’m down here. Robert, you’re forgetting your manners.
Offer Holly something to drink.’

Robert raised his eyebrows and for a moment a twinkle
returned to his anxious eyes.

‘Tea or something stronger?’

‘I could murder a cuppa. I haven’t had a decent one in over
a week.’

‘How do you take it?’

‘A drop of milk and one sugar please,’ she replied,
following him down the stairs.

Rosemary was sitting on a plump, three-seater sofa which was
beautifully upholstered in a pale grey-and-white striped fabric. She was
wearing a loose-fitting, navy-blue silk shirt over winter-white tailored
trousers and the tan from her recent time in Mauritius was lifted by a touch of
blusher and lip-gloss. Although she didn’t attempt to get up as Holly
approached, the younger woman was pleased to see that Rosemary looked almost
exactly the same as the last time she had seen her at the Plantation House
hotel, just slightly thinner. It was a relief as she had been fretting on the drive
over not really knowing what to expect with all the talk of chemotherapy drips.

‘Holly, I’m so happy to see you. I’ve been driving Robert
crazy trying to get in touch with you. I thought maybe you were away again.’ As
she pulled Holly into an embrace she whispered, ‘I haven’t told Robert about
your alter ego. Your secret’s safe with me.’

‘Rosemary, you look amazing,’ Holly said. ‘I appreciate you
not telling Robert but it’s really not that important in the grand scheme of
things.’

‘Well, I promised I wouldn’t tell him so I haven’t. I keep
my promises and I’m hoping that you do too.’

Holly racked her brain to try and remember what she had
promised Rosemary but jet lag wasn’t helping her powers of recollection.

‘You promised you would help me do something when the time
came,’ prompted Rosemary. ‘Well, the time has come.’

Holly felt a little shiver run down her back.

‘Oh yes, I remember. That day at Philippe’s house you said
you might need me to help you with something. What do you need me to do?’

‘I can’t talk in front of Robert but I’ll send him out to
the shops in a little while to buy something to make dinner. You will stay for
dinner won’t you?’ It was less a question, more an assumption. ‘And while he’s
out we can talk properly.’

Right on cue Robert walked into the room carrying a tray
filled with bone china cups and saucers and a plate of biscuits. She reached to
take the cup of tea that Robert was offering, wondering what Rosemary wanted to
ask of her that she couldn’t talk about in front of her husband.