She pushed the phone into Fran’s hands and crossed her arms.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Why are you getting emails from Wilding Holdings? Asking for a “Loire Valley Report” … A report about what?’
Fran looked flustered, colour rising as she checked her phone.
Penny asked the million-dollar question.
‘There’s something I want to know, Fran. Who the hell are you?’
Chapter 14
Johnny eked out his second cocktail – a Slippery Nipple, courtesy of Noel, whose fifteen-year-old sense of humour clearly thought it a hilarious choice. In fact, it was an excellent mix of flavours, so Johnny was happy with the selection, despite the chortle-inducing name.
But Johnny had no intention of getting wrecked by mid-afternoon, and he allowed all the jokes and the innuendo to wash over him, focusing instead on the pummelling the sun was giving his skin. Johnny spent most of his time in air-conditioned offices, or warehouses. And much of the previous few months, with his marriage spiralling into the gutter, had Johnny feeling as though his shoulders and neck couldn’t have ratcheted themselves any tighter, even if they’d been soldered together.
Stripping down to nothing more than a pair of board shorts and staying put in the glorious warm afternoon sunshine long enough to descend into the valley of proper relaxation had been a long time coming, in Johnny’s opinion. He could feel his skin tightening in the relentless strength of the sun, even though he’d applied plenty of factor 30, but there was no way he was moving. This trip was exactly what he needed, had come at precisely the right time. They’d dressed it up, using it as a way to mark the founding of Taylor Made Wine fifteen years previously, while also using it to reward their loyal employees, but a break from the routine couldn’t have come at a better moment.
With his eyes closed, and managing to tune out the worst of the noise from the others in favour of the rhythmical slaps and splatters from swimmers splashing up and down the pool,Johnny’s breathing slowed and his limbs sank into the plush cushioning on the lounger.
Credit where credit was due, sometimes Noel made great decisions – and the idea for this trip had been one of them. Although he wasn’t the most easy-going of brothers, or work colleagues, Johnny had to admit that he wasn’t sure how he would have got through the last six months without him.
To be honest, when Johnny had first confided in Noel, explained how he and Natalie had hit a rocky patch and he wasn’t sure how to negotiate the situation, Noel had been surprisingly receptive. Johnny had braced himself for a far more negative response. Noel had never shown any signs of wanting to settle down, never seemed to be dating the same woman for more than about five minutes, and so Johnny had expected Noel to make nothing of his brother’s troubles.
Instead, Noel had been the very picture of concern – especially where the situation impacted Estelle. His sensitivity had surprised Johnny. Noel had always been a great uncle, it wasn’t that Johnny thought hewouldn’tcare, but he hadn’t been prepared for how far his brother seemed to put himself out in order to try to bring the family back together. Instead of telling him to dump the ball and chain and leg it, Noel had really stepped up.
And for a while, things got better for Johnny and Natalie. The tension eased.
Uncle Noel could be relied upon when work commitments kept Johnny busy, and Estelle needed ferrying around; sometimes he offered to watch Estelle so Johnny could take Natalie to dinner. When Johnny had headed abroad for a series of meetings without Noel, his brother had stepped up and spent time with Natalie and Estelle.
Despite all best intentions, however, the ceasefire hadn’t lasted between Johnny and Natalie. And once the downwards spiral picked up enough pace, there didn’t seem to be anything Johnny could do to save the situation. It was almost as though someone had hit the destruct button on his marriage, and nothing was going to stop the demolition.
Not that any of that was Noel’s fault. And maybe Johnny gave Noel too hard a time, expecting him to be something other than what he was. His brother might be a bit of a bull in a ceramics shop, but he was a bull who had everyone’s best interests at heart.
Johnny sighed, turning onto his front so the sun’s rays could work their magic on his back. Maybe his desire to change aspects of his life, his wish to break away from Noel’s relentless pace and take the slow lane all stemmed from the raw and painful failure of his marriage. Maybe he shouldn’t make any rash decisions, especially where Noel was concerned. After all, they’d built up an extremely successful business together and Johnny would be a fool to walk away from something so lucrative.
Perhaps he needed to make one of those lists – a positive versus negative chart of how he felt about Taylor Made Wine, about working with his brother, about it all. See where that left him. Sometimes it was easy to see the negatives, especially when Johnny acknowledged his tendency towards the melancholy. He needed to focus on Noel’s positive attributes, rather than picking fault. And it was equally possible that Johnny was partly to blame for Noel’s sudden change in behaviour. Since his marital troubles, he’d noticed a difference in Noel, and Johnny never thought of the impact it would have on his own brother.
A splattering of icy-cold water across the hot skin of his back had Johnny simultaneously swearing and propelling himself from his lounger to the sounds of riotous laughter. All attentionwas on Johnny as he spun around, and Noel’s face broke into a Joker-wide grin as he shook off the rest of the pool water he’d scooped into his hands.
‘Wakey-wakey, Johnny-boy,’ Noel said, diving into the pool before Johnny could retaliate.
On the other hand, maybe Johnny had been correct the first time, and Noelwasa complete arsehole.
Still in her room, with Penny showing no sign of backing down, Fran floundered for what to say.
‘Who are you, Fran? Are you really here to earn money to go travelling?’ Penny remained defiant; arms crossed. ‘Because I’m not buying your story. And that email just confirms my suspicions.’
Fran should meet Penny’s attitude with equal force. Who the hell did Penny think she was, nosing around Fran’s room without permission and questioning her reasons for being at Chateau les Champs d’Or?
The fact that Penny was almost completely on-point was difficult to ignore. Fran had expected Madame Beaufoy to rumble her, had been expecting it since the moment she’d settled on this hare-brained scheme to go undercover. For another member of the staff to challenge Fran was unexpected.
Could she fluff her way through it? Pretend Penny had read the header wrong, persuade her it was something for a social media channel, or just tough it out and tell her to mind her own business?
There was something reminiscent of a terrier in Penny’s stance, her focus on Fran total and unwavering. After a further few moments of indecision, Fran puffed out a huge breath and slumped onto her bed.
‘Can I trust you?’ Fran said, patting the sheet to encourage Penny to sit, too. ‘It’s nothing bad, I promise.’
