Chapter 25
Intermezzo
As she had done on other bleak Friday nights, Louisa walked across the square to Didier's café. It was filled with commuters having a glass of wine or fetching takeaway, but Amir found a small table for her by the front window.
"Louisa, Louisa, you are here!" Didier bustled from the kitchen, took her hand and gallantly kissed it. "What would the little maman like for supper? I've some lovely prawns, beautiful chickens fresh from the farm, and you must have my mousse au chocolat. We have both the white and dark together."
"It all sounds delicious, Didier. But tonight your mushroom soup and Salade Monique would not go amiss."
"Of course, ma petite chou. I only wish you could have a glass of wine. The French mamans, they don't care about these things. But English mums, no wine for you!"
"Amir, please, a petite pan and a the Anglaise for our Louisa," Didier commanded.
When Louisa needed coddling, she turned to Gareth and Didier. They were prepared with the latest gossip from "Hello" magazine or the neighbourhood shops and restaurants. Food from Didier's café often appeared at her door, always with a cheerful note: "This will make your Monday merry, a treat for Tuesday," and so forth.
She smiled as Amir arrived with a pot of tea, jug of milk and the bread she could not resist. Waiting for the tea to steep, Louisa watched through the window as men bought bouquets of flowers from the corner kiosk. Would Martin do this if they lived in London? He once said he never left hospital earlier than seven o'clock, whilst she was generally home by six. She would have an hour or so to prepare a meal – something simple for his tastes.
Perhaps she'd slip into one of those long, flowing dresses she coveted at Mothercare. Martin would hand her the flowers; she would kiss him in thanks. They would chat companionably over supper. He would be interested in her day, and she in his. As they had done those few times in Port Wenn, they'd make their way to the lounge. Martin would tease about her telly shows and she about his medical journals. Soon they would fall into each other's arms and hurry off to bed.
And then their baby began to cry.
"What's that ungodly noise," Martin demanded.
"It's our baby. I've had a baby," she whispered in his ear.
"Why," he thundered and turned his back to her.
Louisa was roused from her troubling daydream by a wailing baby at the adjoining table. The father offered comfort to the child and an apology to Louisa: "Terribly sorry. He'll settle in a minute or so. Teething. The first few were easy, now it's a bit more difficult. My wife should be here shortly. It's our anniversary, and we thought the café might suit a seven month old. Perhaps we should've arranged for takeaway."
Louisa smiled at his unusual friendliness: "No bother at all. I'm sure he'll be fine. Happy Anniversary to you."
As she returned to her tea, a tall woman in a military service uniform rushed toward the table: "Oh darling, I didn't mean to be late, but the brigadier always dawdles on Fridays. How's Ian? Come to mummy my love."
The mother held the child closely to her chest and his crying became gurgles of contentment. The father reached across the table and stroked his wife's hand cradling the baby. "You've been so stressed these last few months, Kates. Would you do it again? Would you still marry me?"
"Of course, silly. I've never been happier."
At this, Louisa determined not to further eavesdrop on the two. It was reminiscent of what she had lost with Martin and much too painful.
"Madame, your soup," Amir murmured as he placed the fragrant bowl before her. Didier had topped it with minced mushrooms and a dollop of crème fraiche, "to make your baby strong," the waiter announced.
Now, the couple looked toward Louisa: "Oh, then, you're pregnant," the mother exclaimed. "Fantastic," the father joined in. "Ian's our first, and he's changed our lives forever." The two lifted their glasses of anniversary champagne to Louisa: "Cheers to you," the dad toasted. Louisa raised her cup with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders and then pointedly returned to her meal.
For the next hour or so, she slowly sipped tea, eating first the soup, and then the salad, all the while casting covert glances at the couple enjoying their modest celebration. Ian was resting in his buggy, and the dad occasionally moved it back and forth to calm him. Along with the bill, Amir brought them a small, white package: "Your tarte tatin. The chef wishes you many more years of happiness."
Standing, the mother spoke again to Louisa: "We hope you didn't mind the baby. We only wanted to celebrate a bit." Raising the package, she continued: "We'll have the tarte at home, and get this one into his cot. With any luck, he'll sleep for a few hours."
As Louisa wished a good evening to the departing family, she ducked her head on seeing Holly enter the restaurant and look about frantically. Too late; she had been spotted.
"Oh, God, Lou, I've been searching for you. Don't you answer your mobile? You must help me or I'll be booted tomorrow. You must persuade Liliana to stay at Augusta Ada Lovelace."
"Holly, sorry, what is it you want?" She had been so pre-occupied with thoughts of Martin evoked by the couple that she nearly forgot Holly's dilemma.
"Don't be impertinent, Louisa. You met with Liliana this afternoon. She must've said something. Did she offer you a post?"
"No, no, not all Holly. Nothing was mentioned. Another teacher told me about St. Veronica's as I was leaving school. I was certainly surprised. Liliana's highly-regarded, and everyone's quite fond of her."
"Of course, everyone loves Liliana, I'm only the harridan who must manage the school. You know why she's leaving, don't you?"
"No, not as such. Was there a row? Something of the sort?"
Now Holly took a chair opposite Louisa and sniffed a few times before she snarled: "It's because of you. You, Louisa. You whom I rescued from your dreary life and the loutish doctor who'll never marry you.
"Liliana insisted I offer you a contract for the next year, and I refused. You simply aren't up to the standards of my school. One term as a fill-in but nothing beyond that. Oxonians are vying for posts at Addie, why should I keep you?"
If Amir hadn't appeared, Louisa wasn't certain what she may have done. He bowed politely to Holly and asked, "May I bring you something, madame? A glass of wine, tea?"
"Have you a decent Sancere," Holly snapped.
"Yes, madame, as decent as you are." Amir's sarcasm was lost on Holly but not on Louisa who pressed her lips together to contain the laughter.
The humour was short-lived as Louisa realised she would have no job for the next year at Addie or any other school. How would she support herself and the baby?
"Look, Lou, this can all be sorted out. Come with me to see Liliana. Persuade her to stay, and I'll extend you for another year. Maybe two. Perhaps an increase in your salary."
"Holly, I've no influence with Liliana. She's been quite kind to me, but it would be better if you saw her alone. You may have argued about me, but I'm certain there were other matters as well."
Recalling her role-playing with India and Helen, Louisa suggested: "Have your wine, relax a bit and we'll work through a way to speak with Liliana. Phone her and then go to her home and have a quiet chat."
"Please, please come with me Louisa. This is terribly important. If I'm sacked, you'll have no chance of a job for next year."
It took all of five minutes for Holly to quaff the decent Sancere and for Louisa to reluctantly leave with her. Holly hurried along the walkway to her Volvo, parked illegally in a disability bay.
Liliana and her husband lived not far away in Acton, and Holly drove aggressively through the heavy weekend traffic. Louisa again suggested they phone, but she demurred. "No, I want to catch her by surprise. If I appear at her door, she's too polite not to admit me. That's her aristocratic nature. Her bloody, obnoxious, holier-than-thou nature."
Circling the mews only once, Holly easily parked in a just-vacated spot opposite the Orestes' home. She hurried across to No. 67 with Louisa in her wake. Lights shone through each of the tall front windows and music could be heard as they approached the townhouse. It was Piatti's "Canto di Primavera," a piece Louisa recognized from the dinner party. That night Vincent played the cello and Liliana the piano. This would be quite a different sort of performance, and she hoped Liliana would forgive her.
With high heels punishing both her feet and the stone walkway, Holly imperiously walked to the front door and firmly rang the bell. The music continued, and Holly impatiently pressed the bell again. The cello stopped, but not the piano.
Vincent Orestes opened the door, looking every bit as bellicose as Holly.
"Good evening, Miss Williams," he stiffly acknowledged her. "How may I help you."
"I would like to see Liliana, if you don't mind. Have a word with her."
"Dr. Orestes is entertaining friends at the moment. We are about to have dinner. May I ask her to ring you later?"
"No, you bloody well may not. I want to see her now. Bring her to the door. I must speak to her immediately. I've brought Louisa as well," Holly lowered her strident voice a few decibels.
"Yes, I see that Miss Glasson is with you. I can't imagine whatever for. As I've said, Dr. Orestes is engaged for the evening. I'm afraid she'll be unable to see you. Now, I wish you both a pleasant evening," this with a strained look at Louisa.
The door was firmly closed, and a few minutes later, the cello music resumed.
Holly scrolled through her mobile and pressed a number, but there was no response. When the answerphone came on, Holly spoke in a saccharine tone: "Liliana, Holly here. Lovely that you're entertaining tonight, but it would be fantastic if you could phone me before tomorrow morning. I need a bit of a catch-up prior to the board meeting. Thank you ever so much."
"Now what," Louisa asked, hoping that Holly would abandon her foolish pursuit of Liliana.
"I suppose I could give you a lift to your pokey little flat. It's not far from here, is it?"
"No, it's just beyond the café. Or you can drop me there."
In the car, Holly said nothing but Louisa could feel the tension, actually rage, emanating from her. Her silence matched Holly's as she tried not to think of the spot she was in. She'd phone Liliana tomorrow and apologize. For now she longed to be in her bedsit, at the computer, reviewing job adverts. Certainly after tonight, she had no future at her current school. She must leave the expensive city and would look beyond Cornwall if need be.
She could find a teaching vacancy. If not, she'd return to Port Wenn and work out a way to support the baby. Many mums did it. There was employment to be had in Wadebridge, Delabole and even Bude. She could do something else while waiting for a teaching post to open. Older teachers throughout Cornwall were nearing retirement. She must be patient. It was not as dire as she feared.
They arrived at her flat in short order and on leaving the car, Louisa said: "You shouldn't worry, Holly. I have every confidence you'll do well with the board. You're brilliant at that sort of thing. Good luck tomorrow."
"You needn't be concerned, Lou. I didn't get this far without learning a thing or two. Good riddance to Liliana. I'll hire my own director of studies and Addie will soon be the top girl's school in London. Don't you worry about me. I'm a survivor. But you, Louisa, are not. Come to my office on Monday morning, we've a few things to sort out."
Continued . . .
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