‘Where is he? I want to meet him.’
‘It’s Guy, the owner of Villa Celestia. He wants to meet you too, but he is in shock as much as you are.’
‘I doubt that,’ Leon said, shaking his head.
‘Oh he is. He had absolutely no idea that you or I existed until just over twenty-four hours ago.’
‘Does he truly want to meet me?’
Joan nodded. ‘Yes.’
Leon sipped his beer before looking at her and taking a deep breath and asking quietly, ‘Mum, I truly don’t want to upset you, but will you please tell me how Jake died?’
Joan caught her breath. She hated thinking about the accident. ‘I don’t know the full details, but I’ll tell you what I know. The yacht he worked on had sailed across to Sicily and moored in one of the marinas there. Two days later, one of the guests on board lost control of his jet-ski and it ploughed into your father, who was in the water helping one of the younger guests. He was dead before they got him out of the water.’
Joan fiddled with the signet ring on her finger before taking it off and looking up at Leon.
‘You were asking me about this ring. I think you suspected and probably guessed it was Jake who gave it to me. It was meant to represent a temporary engagement ring. Just days later, he was dead. I wore it continually until I met Harry, when I took it off and placed it in the drawer with all my memories of that part of my life. I think it’s about time you had it, if you would like it. If you don’t want it, I shall give it to Guy. He wears an identical one.’ She held it out to Leon.
Leon looked at it for several seconds before slowly taking it, slipping it on his finger and standing up. ‘Thanks, Mum.’ He moved across to give her a tight hug. ‘I’m sorry for upsetting you, for dragging an unhappy part of your past into our present, but I’m glad you’ve talked to me about Jake. And thank you for being brave enough to look into the provenance of the old photograph.’
‘My turn now to ask you a question,’ Joan said quietly. ‘Why have you never pushed for the answers to these questions before?’
‘A mix of reasons,’ Leon said slowly. ‘Partly not wanting to upset either you or Dad but also recently I’ve been thinking about the future. My future. I know I’ve gained a bit of a reputation with girlfriends for having a commitment problem, but I actually don’t. I simply haven’t met the right person yet. When I do meet someone and want to settle down, I need to be able to tell a future partner who I am, what my roots are. I remember Gramps and Nana – your parents – and dad’s parents, Grandad and Grandma, always treated me like a grandson, but there was always a niggling feeling that out there somewhere, maybe there was another set of grandparents.’
‘I can understand that,’ Joan said. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t explain that I didn’t know the ins and outs of your father’s background. I’m also sorry I didn’t tell you what a lovely, caring man Jake was and how much I loved him.’
Leon gave her a tight squeeze. ‘I know now and hopefully Guy will fill me in even more. Have you talked to Helena about this development?’
Joan shook her head. ‘No. I know she’ll be thrilled for you. Do you want me to tell her or do you want to?’
‘Will you tell her please? I’m not sure when I’ll see her and it’s pretty important family news.’ Leon glanced at his watch. ‘Love you, Mum, and thanks again. It’s late, I’ve got to get back to the yacht. I’ll see you before you leave on Monday.’
38
Guy went down to the kitchen that afternoon to prep for the last evening meal of the retreat, with his thoughts a jumble of wishes and hopes for the future and some regrets for the past. Thoughts about his unknown nephew – when would he get to meet him? Thoughts about Liz – would she stay or go? Thoughts about Villa Celestia – was it truly time for a change or should he stay with the status quo? Sad and regretful thoughts about Jake too surfed around in his brain, but nothing could be done to change the fact that his brother had died years ago. The only thing possible was to honour his memory and ensure his son knew how much he’d been loved and missed. And there were thoughts of Joan too – she was now part of his family as the mother of his nephew.
Smothering a sigh, Guy started to season the duck breasts he planned to use that evening. He had to wait for Leon to contact him, had to wait for Liz’s decision. The one thing he had total control over was Villa Celestia – only he could make the decision to close permanently, re-open or sell up. He looked around the kitchen. He remembered painstakingly going over and over the design layout, making sure everything was in the right place, that there was room for half a dozen people to move around and work in comfortably. So many meals cooked here, so many compliments paid. Of course there had been stressful moments when things had burnt, or sauces wouldn’t thicken, or the sous-chef phoned in sick, leaving them short-handed, these things happened in every professional kitchen from time to time.
Guy had hated working for temperamental chefs and from the beginning had vowed he wouldn’t be like that. His kitchen would be a happy workplace for everyone. Something he gave himself a pat on the back for achieving. But was it time for a change of direction? Time to move? Time to move back to England even?
* * *
Everybody had dressed up for the last dinner and instead of walking into town for aperitifs, they all gathered in the garden at seven-thirty. Sandy had organised a small bar and Romain was there, ready to hand out the champagne cocktails and the blini canapés that Guy had decided on in place of a formal starter. Sandy’s Chihuahua Twiggy was wandering around being adored and cuddled by everyone.
Zoe came out at eight o’clock to ask everyone to please take a seat at the table. When everyone was seated, Guy, wearing his chef’s whites but not his toque hat, and Zoe brought out their meals and wished everyone ‘Bon appétit’. Murmurs of appreciation were soon being muttered up and down the table as everyone enjoyed their meal.
As Zoe came out to clear their plates, she said, ‘Tonight we have two desserts, tiramisu and Crepe Suzette. Chef says you are welcome to have both, but as Crepe Suzette will be flamed at the table in Grand Marnier he would like to know how many of you intend to enjoy one.’ Zoe burst out laughing as seven hands shot up.
When, minutes later, Guy appeared, wearing his chef’s hat this time, wheeled the trolley with the pancakes, the orange zest, the butter, the bottle of Grand Marnier, the shallow pan to flambé the pancakes in and finally the small gas ring to heat it all up, everyone clapped.
While he was melting sugar and butter and adding orange zest and generally getting ready to flambé the first pancakes, Zoe placed the individual tiramisus on the table, before returning with a bowl of vanilla ice cream. Once flambéed, the Crepe Suzettes were placed on plates with a generous scoop of ice cream and passed down the table.
‘Thank you, Guy, for all the great food you have given us in the last fortnight and particularly for this wonderful meal to end the retreat,’ Sandy said. ‘Thanks to Zoe too for helping to look after us so well. I think they both deserve a round of applause.’ Which everyone duly gave them. Guy accepted the chef’s kisses everyone blew his way before wheeling the trolley back into the kitchen.
After Sandy’s short speech, Liz got up and went to fetch the flowers and chocolates which she and Isobel had organised for Sandy.
‘Sandy, these are from all of us to say thank you for a great retreat and I know we will all be hoping that you quickly find a new venue and can continue offering your fantastic retreats so we writers can come and be inspired to write more books.’
