“She hates going to the market,” Aurélien explained with a kind of tenderness that struck Robert as odd.
“You’re awfully indulgent with that kid, aren’t you?” he said.
Aurélien turned sharply to Robert and glared at him. He hesitated, about to vent his anger, but Robert’s face displayed only simple curiosity. Aurélien let out a heavy sigh.
“Yes. …” he finally said. “I like her a lot. If I were honest, I’d say that I’m attracted to her. What can I say? She’s around me all day, working with me. I’m not made of stone.”
“But you …”
“Don’t add insult to injury by saying something inane, okay?”
Robert lowered his eyes, and Aurélien felt like laughing.
“I’ll be glad the day she finds a husband and leaves Fonteyne. Furious, but glad.”
Robert, amused by his father’s disconcerting honesty, took the risk of saying, “Jules would be a good candidate … as a possible husband I mean. …”
“Jules?”
Aurélien, on the defensive, thought a moment before speaking.
“I’m not inside his head. He does whatever he wants. I only told him, when Laurène first arrived here, not to hit on her just for the fun of it. She was eighteen, it’s a bit young. I had a responsibility as Antoine’s friend …”
The excuse was so obvious that Robert couldn’t help himself and he started to laugh hysterically. Offended, Aurélien turned his back on his son to let him calm down. When he was able to speak again, Robert said, “One thing I forgot to ask you, as a physician. It’s your … your private life.”
There was no trace of amusement in his voice. Aurélien knew that he could trust him.
“I’m no monk, but I’m not Don Juan either. … I have my … habits in Bordeaux. Nothing too exciting. And then, once in a while … Let me put it this way: I have more affairs than you imagine, but less than you fear. I’ve always loved women, you know. …”
“I know,” Robert said with a neutral voice.
“And to answer your question, medically speaking, I have no particular problems. Not yet!”
Robert observed his father, both attentive and moved. For the first time in his adult life, he had tender feelings for him.
“The worst, Robert, isn’t getting old. … Age doesn’t count. What’s awful is not having much time ahead of you. Nowadays, it’s not so much women I long for, but love. I’d like to be in love, there I said it. … But if it does happen to me, then you’re all going to say it’s some sort of midlife crisis. If she’s my own age, you’re going to say it’s gross, and if she’s young, it’s going to be a scandal! Dirty old man! Of course, knowing you all, you’re going to say it all behind my back. …”
Robert was listening, forcing himself to remain stone-faced. Aurélien glanced at the now deserted terrace.
“That young Laurène stirred things inside me. … I can’t have her, I know, but it created a real need inside me. There’s an emptiness there. …”
Aurélien’s tone changed all of a sudden.
“If I were your age,” he said, “I’d be thrilled by the way she’s looking at you. … Anyway, I’m the one doing all the talking. Why don’t you tell me why you’re not married?”
Embarrassed, Robert mumbled an incomprehensible answer.
Benevolent, Aurélien smiled at him.
“I’m not asking you to confide in me. My curiosity, unlike yours, isn’t based on science.”
Aurélien was having fun with his son. He also wanted to lighten things up a bit. He wasn’t used to bearing his soul like he just had, and he’d never tried to be emotionally close to his sons. The fact that he’d undressed and let Robert examine him had momentarily changed their rapport. Robert felt that the grace period had passed. He got up.
“Why don’t you go see if we’re going to have lunch soon?” Aurélien asked. “I’ll be right over.”
Now alone, he went back to sit on the chesterfield and put on his tie. He was conscious of what he’d done and felt bad about it.
What the hell is wrong with me? he thought. Steering Robert toward Laurène. If I can’t have her, I don’t want him to have her either. …
For a long time, he’d known that Jules was in love with Laurène. Even though he didn’t let it show.
I made sure he understood I was against this relationship, and he didn’t go against my wishes, God only knows why. Because he’s afraid to be in love? To think that’s what I want more than anything. Life can be such a mess at times. … But then again, if those two were to marry, I’d have to put up with seeing them together all the time, and that …
Aurélien got off the chesterfield and looked around him. Not even his books managed to console him now. He loved Jules too much to put himself in a position to envy him. In the past, they’d been rivals when it came to women, but it was just a game. If he’d deliberately forgotten about the others, he still remembered that pretty thing that had opted to spend the night with him instead of his son, filling him with enormous pride and satisfaction.
But it had nothing to do with feelings. It was just a challenge, a friendly battle. For laughs. …
Winning, in this uncontrollable need they both had to compete against each other, was everything.
He’s so much like me. And I like that he is. …
Pauline’s high-pitched voice took him out of his thoughts. He glanced once more at his dear books and then briskly walked out of the library.
Since it was late, lunch was eaten in a bit of a rush, and Aurélien, crabby, had gone to take his nap. Jules settled in his father’s office to wait for Alexandre, who still wasn’t back from Bordeaux. He never sat in his father’s chair but instead perched on the sofa’s arm to study that day’s dossiers. Every day, he read a considerable amount of information about wine producing, always interested in anything that had to do with his trade. He retained everything with disconcerting ease, and rarely glanced at a detail without examining it fully. At any time and on any topic having to do with wine, he could replace Aurélien at conferences or meetings with other producers. On the other hand, Alexandre attended very few professional gatherings, and the sudden decision to thrust him into a negotiation with Amel must have embarrassed him. Jules only hoped that his talks in Bordeaux hadn’t taken a disastrous turn.
He got up, stretched, took a quick look at the still gray sky, then decided to make his way to Laurène’s office. He’d been hearing her type for a few minutes.
“Am I disturbing you?” he asked, flatly.
She swiveled her chair around and gave him a smile.
“On the contrary,” she said. “I need someone to explain to me how to get out of this darn program. I don’t get it.”
He walked over to her desk and she let him take her seat. Two seconds later, the problem was solved.
“See?” he said. “That’s how you do it. …”
Half-turned toward Laurène, he looked at her and stopped speaking. He’d made his decision a few days earlier, and he figured this time was as good as any.
“Can we talk?” he asked. “Not about computers, I mean. …”
“Okay, if you give me a cigarette first.”
She didn’t expect anything serious, so she was relaxed. He gestured at the filing cabinets that filled the room.
“This isn’t a very romantic place. … Would you have dinner in Margaux with me tonight?”
Taken aback, she glanced at him, then lowered her eyes to the pack of Gitanes he was handing her.
“It’s an odd idea. … Your brothers being here, this isn’t really the ideal time to go out, is it?”
He felt a sort of anguish he’d never experienced before and had to swallow his saliva before saying, “Okay, then, let me tell you …”
Again he stumbled and stopped speaking, unable to continue. He stood up, avoiding Laurène’s gaze.
“What I mean to … Christ, this is hard!”
Laurène remained quiet. She’d waited for
this moment for such a long time, and now that it was happening she almost didn’t want it anymore. There was something about Jules, with his disheveled curly hair, his lean frame, and obvious shyness that was very touching. She stopped looking at him and put out the cigarette she’d just lit.
“I’m just going to come out and say it,” muttered Jules. He tried to smile. “I think I’m in love with you, Laurène.”
She squeezed the ashtray between her fingers, paralyzed by what Jules had just told her. She tried to gather her thoughts, but she wasn’t able to. The silence in the room was unbearable, and suddenly she was upset with him for the abruptness of his confession, even if she knew how hard it must’ve been for him to speak up. For the past two days, all she’d thought about was Robert. She’d managed to get Jules out of her mind, and now there he was throwing everything upside down at the worst possible moment.
With a tight smile, she joked, “This dawned on you just this second?”
He wasn’t saying anything, and she didn’t dare raise her eyes. Because she felt clumsy, confused, she suddenly expressed the bitterness she’d felt for a long time.
“Aurélien gave you the green light?”
He was ten years older than she was, but he felt like a kid that had been caught doing something bad. He couldn’t really contradict her on that point.
As for Laurène, she realized that all she’d had to do to make him decide was to look at another man. …
“Listen …” she said, her voice now soft.
“No, stop.”
Jules spoke with a coarse voice that wasn’t normal for him. He walked by Laurène and headed for the exit. He hesitated, his fingers on the door handle, then he turned around to look right at her.
“I’m sorry. I’m putting you in an impossible situation. Forget what I just told you. I promise not to bother you about it anymore.”
Laurène was going to respond when Alexandre barged in, ramming into Jules.
“Is Dad still sleeping? Good! What a morning I had!”
He made a beeline for Laurène’s chair and sat down.
“Things didn’t go all that well,” he said. “I had to give in a little … with old man Amel, I mean.”
“What?”
Jules took a step toward his brother.
“What do you mean, ‘give in a little’? Are you kidding me, Alex? Don’t tell me he invited you to lunch and you accepted an offer over coffee. Can you really be that useless?”
Jules spun on his heels and charged out of the room, slamming the door shut, without giving Alexandre time to say anything.
“What the hell does he think!” Alexandre exploded. “That it was easy?”
He turned to Laurène, eager for support.
“It’s getting harder and harder working with Jules. Did you see that? He didn’t even ask me about the figures!”
Noticing the tears in Laurène’s eyes, he added right away, “It’s not such a disaster, you know. …”
“Jules …”
“Yes, Jules would’ve done better. All he had to do was take care of it himself.”
“No,” Laurène managed to say. “He’s not … feeling right.”
“Jules? Ah, that’d be a first! With his iron constitution and his ironclad convictions. Just like Dad. Both of them rocks. …”
Alexandre got to his feet and left the room. He also slammed the door.
Aurélien woke up with a start and was stunned to see Jules standing right by the bed.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but it’s four o’clock and the notary is here.”
“Already? Why did you tell him to come so quickly?”
“Because you seemed to be in such a hurry to see him this morning. It was either now or the day after tomorrow.”
Aurélien yawned before getting out of bed.
“You did good. I’m coming up.”
As Jules was leaving the room, Aurélien said, “You have a funny look on your face, son. Is something wrong?”
Instead of stepping out of the bedroom, Jules sat behind Aurélien’s antique desk. He put a hand in his pocket.
“You can’t smoke in here!” Aurélien said.
Jules watched his father get dressed and then run a comb through his hair.
“Did you see Alex? Is he back?”
“Yes. …”
Aurélien walked to Jules, suddenly worried.
“Don’t tell me that Amel snookered him,” he said. He stared at Jules and added, in a slow voice, “Well, we’ll see about that in a while. For now, I’m going up to talk to Varin, and I don’t want to be disturbed.”
Having noticed Jules’s unusually sad expression, he leaned toward him.
“Jules … You sure everything is okay?”
“Yes!” Jules said too quickly. He jumped to his feet and added, “I’m going over to the cellar. Lucas is waiting for me.”
Aurélien didn’t have time to say anything. Jules ran up the stairs and was out on the terrace in no time. He stopped there a second to light a cigarette. He felt nervous, out of sorts. Laurène’s reaction had shaken him, and that was all he could think about. He hurried off in the direction of the cellar, set on ridding himself of this cumbersome obsession.
Roland Varin, annoyed, raised his eyes to the ceiling. With his calm, professional demeanor, he said, “But, Mr. Laverzac, you can’t do such a thing.”
The notary waited in vain for Aurélien to come around. Fernande had poured some coffee for them, and Varin had already finished his, one small sip at a time.
“If I don’t do it,” Aurélien said, “Fonteyne is going to be split up within one year of my burial.”
“You favor Jules much too much,” the notary said. “It’s outrageous!”
“Outrageous? What do I care? As long as it’s legal. …”
Aurélien leaned over the table and, with his opened hand, slammed the paperwork in front of him.
“Legal!” he said again.
“You already made him the main shareholder with the disposable part of the estate,” the notary pointed out.
Aurélien shrugged and said, “So? If the three brothers take it badly and band together, then they’ll be the majority shareholders. That’s what I want to prevent at all costs.”
Roland Varin set his eyes on Aurélien before asking, “Why?”
“Louis-Marie and Robert don’t know anything about the wine industry,” Aurélien answered in all earnestness.
“What about Alexandre?”
“Alexandre?”
Irritated, Aurélien slashed the air with his hand. Varin, who kept his gaze on his client, finally sighed.
“Your company’s statutes are becoming more and more complicated,” he said. “And those last clauses have only one goal: to protect your youngest son. …”
“No! It’s to protect the estate. To preserve its integrity.”
“Aurélien … You care that much about what’s going to happen after you’re gone?”
The question, asked with compassion, took Aurélien by surprise. He gave a tight smile.
“I didn’t do all this work just so its fruits pay for sports cars or cruises on the Mediterranean. … My land doesn’t deserve to be sold off by incompetents to fools. … Fonteyne at the hands of the Brits or the Chinese or whatever. Can you imagine that, Roland?”
Varin thought about it silently.
Aurélien raised his voice: “Can you imagine that?”
“All right,” said the notary, subdued. “We’re talking about a share transfer. But there are going to be some fees. …”
“Only on the capital,” Aurélien said good-naturedly. “Not on the assets!”
“It’s a disguised donation,” the notary warned him. “You know that. …”
Aurélien could picture the scene as though he were there. His succession was, in some ways, an abstract topic, but he did take pleasure in thinking about it.
“They won’t dare. …” he said. “I know them inside out. Besides, this do
cument is pretty much ironclad, right? They’ll choose dividends over a never-ending trial. Jules isn’t against them, he’s for Fonteyne, that’s all.”
Roland Varin allowed himself to crack a smile and said, “Just like you?”
“Just like me,” Aurélien admitted. “Name him manager for ninety-nine years.”
“That’s like giving him full power. …”
“That’s the idea! Including the sales and purchases of land. Nothing should be done without his consent.”
The notary was drumming on the folder he’d taken out of his briefcase when he first got to the house. He hated dealing with his clients’ business outside his own office.
“Aurélien … Are you ready to talk to Jules?”
“Talk about what?”
“He might want … Truthfully, you’re putting yourself in a perilous position. …”
Varin hesitated, trying to come up with the right words, aware that he was treading on delicate grounds.
“Sometimes,” he said, “we don’t know our own children as well as we think …”
Aurélien looked at the notary, saying nothing.
Grudgingly, Varin continued, “Jules is going to get married one of these days, and then other folks will be involved—his wife, sisters-in-law, other family members …”
“That’s what I’m afraid of! My daughters-in-law fighting over Fonteyne after I’m gone. It’d be a disaster! With this land grouping, I nip any future attempts in the bud. It’s necessary for Jules to have a free hand to do what’s best for the estate.”
Running out of arguments, the notary had no choice but to be more direct.
“And a free hand to turn against you, if he wants to.”
“Jules?” Aurélien burst into sincere laughter. “Don’t worry about Jules. I assure you, he won’t be a problem.”
“How can you be so sure? You have a crystal ball? It’s my professional duty to warn you: You’re taking a huge risk.”
“Concerning Fonteyne,” Aurélien said, “Jules is not the one we have to watch out for. It’s his brothers. It’s so obvious to me! I know my four sons inside out, and I don’t want to get into details with you. Just do what I’m asking. Modify the statutes, write up the documents, and send them my way as soon as possible. That’s it. …”
A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel Page 7