by Allen, Anne
They drove in silence as Hélène negotiated the winding road to the family home in Torteval, one of the remotest parts of the island. Nicole’s thoughts were jumbled as she noted the open fields and dotted granite houses, so reminiscent of Jersey. She could quite happily have hopped on the next plane home, but part of her was intrigued to see the family home and meet her grandmother. They drove along the winding Route de Pleinmont before Hélène turned left onto a narrow lane leading apparently nowhere.
‘The house is a bit remote but it has a lot of land which my parents wanted for their business. You can still see where the old greenhouses stood.’
Sure enough Nicole noticed small brick walls forming the outlines of what had been quite large buildings but there was no sign of the glass frameworks.
‘Why has no-one used the greenhouses?’
‘The bottom’s fallen out of the growing business. In my father’s day they had a big export trade in tomatoes. But they couldn’t compete with other countries with lower overheads. So we switched to flowers which was great for some years until we were overtaken by Holland. There’s only a few growers left now.’
As they turned a corner a large grey granite house emerged
Nicole gasped. ‘Why, it looks like a castle!’
‘The towers do give that impression, don’t they?’ Hélène grinned. ‘It was built as a rich man’s folly in the nineteenth century. Apparently he built it here for the views, which to my mind are its only saving grace. I always thought the house ugly, but it was a magical place to grow up in. Now our money’s running out, it’s cold and shabby. And I do miss my own little house.’ She sighed.
‘I can see it would be fun for children.’ Nicole surveyed the house with its round towers at either end joined by parapets decorated with gargoyles. Stone mullioned windows and a huge old oak door complete with portico completed the gothic effect.
Just as they were about to enter the house, Hélène turned to Nicole, saying ‘My mother spends most of her time in a wheelchair as she can’t walk at the moment. Being more or less house-bound has made her a bit… difficult. She can be a bit sharp,’ she pulled a face.
‘Okay, thanks for warning me!’
They entered a gloomy, large stone flagged hall, lit by a window on the landing. A heavily carved oak staircase wound its way up in the middle. Panelled oak walls were enlivened with seascapes in ornate gilded frames. Doors led off in all directions.
Hélène led the way to a door on the far left-hand side, calling out ‘Mother, it’s me. And I’ve brought someone to meet you!’
chapter 10
Nicole stepped forward, feeling as nervous as when she’d first seen Hélène at the airport.
‘Hello, Mrs Ferbrache. I’m Nicole.’
The old lady looked up from her wheelchair, positioned by the window.
Nicole found herself staring at a birdlike face framed by thin white hair, cut unflatteringly short. The hazel eyes appeared to look straight through her, the mouth a small splash of red lipstick surrounded by pale, wrinkled skin.
‘So, you’re my granddaughter, are you? I suppose it’s about time that we met.’ The slash of red opened up into a smile and a stick thin arm came out towards her.
Nicole grasped the proffered hand. It felt dry and cold but the grip was firm.
Hélène moved forward and bent down to place a light kiss on her mother’s head before saying, ‘Would you like some tea, Mother?’
Mrs Ferbrache looked between the two women standing over her.
‘That would be nice. Although I think champagne would be more appropriate to the occasion, eh?’
Nicole saw the glint of mischief in the old lady’s eyes. Glancing towards Hélène she noticed that her mother looked flustered.
‘Champagne? I’m not sure if…’
‘Don’t worry. Tea will be fine. Is there any cake?’ Mrs Ferbrache turned towards Nicole. ‘I do like cake. Don’t you?’
‘Yes. If you have some…’
Hélène became brisk.
‘Of course we have cake, Mother. I never let us run out, as you well know. I’ll go and make the tea.’ She hurried out of the room, catching Nicole’s eye in passing. Her raised eyebrows and pursed lips said it all. Nicole turned her attention to the old lady. Her grandmother.
‘Well, girl, you’d better sit down. Towering over me like that.’ The old lady watched as Nicole settled herself in a nearby armchair. Two pairs of hazel eyes appraised each other. My grandmother’s probably shocked, and perhaps angry, that Hélène hadn’t told her about me. I wonder if that’s why she’s sharp with her?
Nicole felt awkward. She’d only just met her natural mother for the first time and now she was presented with a grandmother! And one who clearly liked to stir things with her daughter. She was beginning to wish that she had not agreed to come here when the old lady spoke.
‘Cat got your tongue? I don’t bite, you know.’ Eve thrust her head forward.
‘Maybe not but you were a bit hard on Hélène just now, weren’t you? Do you enjoy teasing her?’ Nicole was surprised at her own temerity. But she could sympathise with Hélène who had given up her independence for this small, sharp woman.
Eve looked taken aback, speechless. Then she let out a chuckle.
‘Ah, so who’s the sharp one now, eh? Good. I like people who can stand up for themselves. Or others. Hélène…well, she seems to have lost that.’
‘Are you surprised? She’s had to give up a lot to care for you. And I don’t think she’s been happy for many years.’
Eve looked shaken, as if what she’d said struck home.
‘So, young lady, you think you know us already, do you?’ Eve’s compressed lips seemed to Nicole to express the old lady’s anger at her forwardness. She was beginning to regret her remark when Hélène pushed open the door, wheeling an old-fashioned trolley laden with the accoutrements of afternoon tea.
‘Here we are, Mother. I’ve got your favourites, chocolate cake and Victoria sponge. Have you two been getting to know each other?’ Hélène looked warily at the two women facing each other.
‘I-’ Nicole began.
‘You could say that we’re beginning to understand each other,’ Eve cut in.
‘Oh, well. That’s good.’ Hélène searched Nicole’s face for a hint of what had passed between them, but Nicole just shrugged. It was clear that Hélène’s nerves were strung tight by the way the cups rattled on the saucers as she poured the tea. Nicole was beginning to feel as if she was at a Mad Hatter’s Tea Party, half expecting a rabbit – or was it a dormouse? ˗ to pop out of the tea pot. It was surreal.
Hélène gazed at her with a look suspiciously like that of a mother proud of something her child has accomplished. Just as Mary had done. Such as when she’d got good exam results or wore her first ball gown. It felt weird.
Eve began what sounded like an inquisition. Nicole, hoping it wouldn’t last long, responded with a potted history of her life, ending with the admission that she had recently split from her husband.
Until that moment Eve had been nodding approvingly at Nicole’s story but now she looked up sharply.
‘Why have you left him? Have you met someone else?’ Her tone was cold.
‘No, I haven’t, but Tom…well, he’s been unfaithful and it’s happened too many times.’ Nicole’s voice caught on a sob.
‘Humph. In that case you’re better off without him. I’ve no time for married men who can’t keep it in their trousers.’ Eve looked pointedly at Hélène who flushed.
Nicole understood what had happened and replied, ‘I know that my father was married. Hélène’s told me her story. I think we’d all agree that he wasn’t honourable. Like my own husband.’
Eve’s sharp gaze settled on Nicole.
‘Well, young lady, I can see that you and I are going to get along just fine,’ she said, a smile hovering on the wrinkled face.
Nicole smiled back, beginning to warm to her.
&nb
sp; Hélène, looking drained, reminded Nicole that they needed to leave for the airport.
Nicole stood up and leant towards Eve, not sure whether to offer her hand or attempt a hug. Eve made the decision for her by offering her own hand and when Nicole shook it she clasped her other hand on top.
‘I look forward to seeing you again. Soon, I hope.’
Nicole caught the twinkle in her eyes and smiled back.
‘Well, I’ll have to see…’
Hélène led the way out to the car but before switching on the ignition, she turned to Nicole and asked if she really wanted to return.
Nicole took in the strain on Hélène’s face and reassured her that it was what she wanted.
‘I’ve only just met you both and it’s been…a lot to take in. But it would be good if we could all be…friends. It’s just a question of time. Time to get to know each other. My mother and my grandmother!’
chapter 11
The short plane ride home – less than fifteen minutes ˗ didn’t give Nicole much time for reflection. But it was enough for her to try and get a take on what had happened that day.
It had been pretty momentous. How often does any grown woman get to meet, for the first time, both her mother and grandmother in one afternoon? And she couldn’t help but compare them to the women she had known all her life. Mary’s parents had died when Nicole was a baby but her paternal grandmother had lived until a few years ago, outliving her husband by ten years. Mary, the stay at home mother who had lived in her husband’s shadow for many years and Hélène, the unmarried teacher. Then Gran, the woman who had seemed very old to her from childhood, and Eve, who she suspected had once been a very lively woman. Gran had given birth to her father, an only child, late in life. Nicole had never found her very loving.
‘Nicole! Sit up straight, girl. And hold your knife and fork like this.’
She could picture herself, about five years old, having Sunday dinner with her grandparents, something she dreaded. It was so formal ˗ they even had a maid to serve the food! – while they all sat round the huge mahogany table, perched on uncomfortable tall chairs. Nicole struggled to hold the heavy silver cutlery that her grandmother insisted she used, even though at home her mother allowed her to use a child-size set. Gran, stern, straight backed and grey haired maintained that children, even an only grandchild, should be seen and not heard. And only seen under close supervision for Sunday dinners. Nicole, with the benefit of maturity and hindsight, could now see why her father had been so stiff and formal himself. Poor Dad! He’d found it so hard to be at ease with her when she was small, only reaching out more when they could hold a proper conversation.
Eve and her gran were like chalk and cheese, she thought, idly looking down at the outline of Jersey slowly filling the horizon. Eve was mentally young for her years, still displaying a spark of mischief, unthinkable in her “other” grandmother. And Hélène was so different to Mary. Although her unhappiness was worn like a tight coat, stifling her, Nicole was certain that she’d been a bright, loving woman who had just had the misfortune to fall in love with the wrong man. Her father! She gulped and bit her lip hard at the thought but couldn’t dwell on it further as the little plane bounced gently on the tarmac. Home again – for the moment.
Later that evening, after a quick supper and a large glass of courage-inducing wine, Nicole rang her parents.
‘Hi, Mum, it’s me. How are you?’
‘Nicole, lovely to hear from you. I’m fine, thanks. Have you…have you been to Guernsey today?’ Mary’s throat felt dry and her heart thumped as she waited to hear about The Meeting. She nodded to Ian who came over and squeezed her gently.
‘Yes, it’s been quite a day! Not only did I meet Hélène but also her mother Eve. We seemed to hit it off…’ Nicole described the day’s events, her voice sounding neutral, almost as if it had been an average day out.
‘We left it that I’d get in touch if and when I wanted to see them again. I…I might want to, if you didn’t mind, Mum?’
Mary heard the hesitation in her daughter’s voice and took a deep breath. Nicole had met her mother and grandmother and the world hadn’t ended. She made it sound like a normal meeting of long-lost relatives which, of course, it was. Except that these were very close long-lost relations.
‘Of course I don’t mind, darling. This is what you hoped for and I can understand that you want to know these…ladies better. Fancy! A new grandmother as well! But you said she’s frail?’ Mary still felt her heart beating faster than usual.
‘Yes, she’s in a wheelchair but her mind’s very sharp. I think Hélène finds her difficult to handle as she winds her up. I guess it’s difficult for them as they’re both independent.’
‘Did…did Hélène say anything about your father?’ Mary felt Ian squeeze her harder.
Nicole told her what little she knew about Adrian.
‘I see. Will you try and meet up with him too?’
‘I don’t know. It’s obviously a sore point with Hélène that he hasn’t been in touch with her since his wife died and I don’t want to do anything to make matters worse. He doesn’t sound like a very nice man so perhaps it’s better if I don’t.’
Mary began to relax as they chatted for a few minutes before she handed the phone over to Ian. She walked outside onto the naya where they’d been having a drink after supper and picked up her glass. Taking a sip she realised that the first irrevocable step had been taken and all she could do now was wait. Wait and see if Nicole would still continue to love her and Ian as her parents and not prefer this…this other woman, Hélène. She felt tears prick at her eyes and gulped some wine. Surely Nicole wouldn’t stop loving them…?
chapter 12
Nicole arranged to meet Susie for coffee to “spill the beans” as Susie put it so eloquently. ‘I shall want to hear every detail, my friend. Every detail!’
Nicole laughed, ‘Don’t worry, you shall.’
As they now sat in the café, cappuccinos steaming in front of them, Nicole described her meeting with Hélène and then Eve at “the house like a castle.”
Susie interjected at timely intervals.
‘Do tell me again what Hélène looks like.’ ‘Had the house really got towers?’ ‘Tell me more about Eve.’
When Susie was satisfied she knew everything there was to learn, she looked at Nicole and asked, ‘So, are you glad you’ve met them?’
‘Oh, yes. Obviously, it’s too soon to have learnt much about them and I can’t tell if I take after either of them. I now know we share the same eyes which isn’t much to go on!’ She grinned. ‘I’d really like to find out how much I share genetically with them, you know, personality, intelligence. That sort of thing.’ Or if I’m more like my father Adrian. Hope not, he was such a rat to Hélène. But do I want to take after her? She let herself be used by Adrian and looks so bitter and unhappy…She pulled a face, adding, ‘Then I could see what I’d become like when I’m older.’
‘That’s a bit scary! I look at my mum, bless her, and hope I don’t turn out like her!’ Susie laughed. ‘I love her dearly, but you know what I mean.’
Nicole nodded. ‘Sure, no-one wants to become exactly like their mother. But we won’t. There’s always some differences, even if it’s just the hairstyle.’
They both giggled as they pictured what to them were their mothers’ unflattering, older woman hairstyles.
‘Seriously, Susie, you know that you take after your mum when it comes to cooking as you’re both brilliant cooks, but you share your dad’s sense of humour.’
Susie laughed. ‘So there’s hope for me yet! I see it’s important for you to spend more time with Hélène and Eve but that’s not the whole story is it? You’d need to meet your father too.’ She reached out for Nicole’s hand before asking, ‘You’re not sure about that, are you?’
‘No, I’m not. But that’s a long way off and I might never meet him. Might not want to. In the meantime I have to decide w
hen to go back to Guernsey and whether or not to stay chez Hélène.’
Susie’s eyes opened wide.
‘She asked you to stay?’
‘Yes, when she dropped me off at the airport. I said I’d think about it. It’s the best way to get to know them better, but it could be disastrous if we don’t get on. I could just stay in a B&B. What do you think?’
Susie thought for a moment.
‘It’s a bit like meeting the in-laws, isn’t it? If they’ve got a big enough house – and they certainly have – then it might look odd for you to stay in a B&B. As if you don’t really like them. And if it doesn’t work out you can always hop on the next plane.’
‘You’re right. I think Hélène would be hurt if I didn’t stay there. I could hire a car and go exploring so it doesn’t get too claustrophobic. I’d like to get to know Guernsey better as I’ve not been there for yonks. Not since we went over for your hen weekend and I can’t remember us doing much exploring then,’ she laughed.
‘Only the nightclubs,’ Susie grinned. ‘Oh, those were the days! Single and care-free.’
‘Hardly single! You were about to walk down the aisle and I’d already been there and bought the bloody T-shirt.’ Nicole frowned as her mind drifted back to her own wedding day and the hopes and dreams that now lay shattered like broken glass beneath her feet.
‘Hey! Don’t get maudlin, girl. If it wasn’t meant to be…Which reminds me, have you heard from Him lately?’
Nicole played with her teaspoon.
‘No. I’ve been half-expecting him to ring ’cos it’s been a few weeks since we last spoke.’ She put the spoon down and looked up.
‘He doesn’t want to accept that it’s over between us and is trying to woo me back with protestations of undying love and fidelity. He almost makes me believe him, but – ’
‘You know you can’t trust him, girl! He’s got a silver tongue all right, but promise me you’re not weakening.’ Susie grabbed Nicole’s hand.