Her arms went around him and pressed him tight, and they stood in the café behind the window with the sun streaming through. He felt her sob. But her head against his shoulder was turned away from his face. And she didn’t look at him.
Eventually she pushed away.
Please don’t do this to us.But he wasn’t going to beg, so he just asked, “Areyou sure?”
She nodded and gave him a difficult smile.
George turned and walked away, out into the early-morning sun. He didn’t have anywhere to go, but his feet took him up the hill towards the isthmus.
Millie watched him walk up the hill, the hardest thing she had ever done. Ever.
Every cell in her heart screamed to call him back, to hell with the right decision; choose the easy one instead.
Was she a fool, would she lose him forever? He was proud, too proud tocome back.
She opened her mouth to call him. Then she remembered her own words to Du Montfort, last year.He should have wanted to give me the benefit ofthe doubt.
Millie turned to get the café ready for the Easter holidaycustomers.
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TWENTY-TWO
Five hours later. La Canette, 11am
George had been walking aimlessly for nearly five hours. Or, perhaps not quite so aimlessly. His feet had brought him to River Cross. To the left was the village, to the right, the church grounds and old castle, and ahead the arched bridge that led to Du Montfort Hall. Home.
If he crossed, he would become visible from the house, and they’d know he was on La Canette. His father would know. George turned to go in the opposite direction and nearly collided with two men carrying a briefcase and a stack of folders. Morris and Sweeny.
“George! Good to see you.” Sweeny moved the stack of municipal files to his left hand and pushed his right one so far in George’s face that he had to step back to take it. “We didn’t realize you were coming to themeeting.”
Meeting? George kept his features neutral, not to reveal his ignorance. Sweeny was a middle manager in the land regulations department, and no one in the entire town hall liked him. He used any bit of information and built it up into a salacious story to make himself seem “inthe know.”
If Sweeny was sleazy, Morris was a double-dealing political climber.Hewould exploit whatever weakness he saw and sell it to the highest bidder.
“I’m glad you’re joining us. What changed your mind?” Morris asked. The open question wasn’t lost on George, a good ploy to trick more information out of someone. It would also reveal the rift between father and son.
George didn’t even know where the meeting was. Surely with two municipal employees, it should have been back in the town hall, and it wouldn’t be on Easter Sunday. What was going on? But he wasn’t a successful negotiator for nothing.
He lifted an eyebrow and gave Morris a quizzical look to put him on the back foot. “I hope it isn’t abadsurprise?” He turned his eyes to Sweeny on the last word. If anyone was going to spill, it would be the ingratiating Sweeny.
Sure enough, the little man gushed. “As if? Everyone was hoping you’d make it even when Lord Du Montfort told us you might be too busy. But you have great ideas, and everyone was hoping you’d solve thisdispute.”
So there was trouble. And with Sweeny and Morris involved, it must be serious trouble.
He had a fleeting image of his old father in his wheelchair looking surprised, blindsided as Sweeny mentioned they had seen George on the island. Morris would be watching closely, getting readyto pounce.
George stood aside, holding his arm in an “after you” gesture. It made him look gracious, but more importantly, it obliged Morris and Sweeny to walk in front of him. They would lead him to the location of this mystery meeting.
The two men crossed over the bridge towards Du Montfort Hall. George followed. For the first time since Friday night, he thought of something other than his relationship with Millie.
To give credit where credit was due, his father had swallowed his shock very well when George walked in behind the two officials. But seeing his father at the centre of the dining room table surrounded by business papers, it was George and not his father who wassurprised.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his father wear his seigneur’s sash and medals.Easter Sunday, of course, he’ll have been at the formal service in the church. But why hasn’t he changed?There had to be a reason his father needed the appearance of authority for this meeting. He certainly looked formidable. Was that why it was scheduled for today? So his father would have an excuse to wearhis sash?
“Gentlemen, I see you have taken the opportunity to share your views with my son.” The old man spoke loud and bright. Only George heard the uncertainty, only George realized the phrasing was deliberate. His father couldn’t be sure if George was here because Morris or Sweeny had contacted him beforehand and canvassed his support.
Sweeny blurted the truth. “We haven’t had a chance. We only ran into him over the bridge.”
