He shrugs. ‘Yeah. Obviously, she’d still want a relationship with April, but she’d never forgive me.’
‘Jesus, am I really that awful?’ I ask with a mixture of shock, consternation and hurt.
‘Of course you’re not,’ he replies in a gruff voice, waving me away. ‘Just ignore her.’ He picks up his menu. ‘We should probably order.’
It’s no surprise that I’m no longer hungry. So much for laying foundations.
Chapter 40
Would Charlie still love Nicki if he knew that she was being unfaithful to him with Isak?
That’s one of the first thoughts that hit me the following morning.
Before I can contemplate it, I hear Charlie talking to April downstairs. It sounds like they’re getting ready to go somewhere. I jump out of bed and quickly slip on my robe.
‘I was just writing you a note,’ Charlie says with a smile as I come downstairs. ‘April was getting a bit hungry. You want to come with us to breakfast?’
‘Can you give me a sec?’ I ask.
‘Sure, we’ll wait by the pool.’
I’m back outside within a few minutes.
‘That was quick,’ he comments.
‘Figured you’d seen me looking rough on enough occasions,’ I say wryly.
‘You never look rough.’
Well,thatmakes me smile.
The restaurant by the boat-docking beach is bustling. There are tables outside on the terrace, under the shade of the trees. A female monkey with a baby on its back is running across the thatched roof of the restaurant while a waiter shoos it away.How can something that cute be a pest?
‘Do you want to go in and get April sorted first?’ I offer Charlie. ‘I’ll wait here with her.’
‘That’d be great, thanks,’ he replies.
I unclick April from her pram and lift her into the highchair that has already been brought over by the ever-attentive staff, before taking a seat.
Out of the corner of my eye, a tall, thin man in a white T-shirt approaches our table. When I glance at him, he’s already looking determinedly at me. He’s in his late fifties, at a guess, and is deeply tanned with thinning, greying, light-brown hair.
‘Bridget,’ he says, knowingly.
‘Yes?’
‘Alain Dupré.’ He has a very thick French accent.
‘Oh, hello!’ I stand to shake the hand he offers me.
‘Sit down, please.’ He pulls up a chair. ‘I saw Charlie inside. I thought I would come and say ’ello.’
‘It’s really nice to meet you.’
‘So you’re my Nicki’s... How do they say? Phantom writer?’
‘Ghostwriter,’ I correct him with a smile.
He raises his eyebrows. ‘Bit strange you are ’ere with her husband and daughter, no?’
