A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel

by Françoise Bourdin

Robert rolled over onto his back, exhausted. He shut his eyes and grappled for Pauline’s hand. They’d had dinner in a pleasant restaurant, drank a lot, and made incredible love. Now, he needed to talk to her.

  “So,” he began, “it’s decided. We’re getting married. …”

  “Bob …”

  “We can’t keep this up, my love. Even your daughter hates this situation, it’s easy to see that. If you’ve made up your mind, I think that we have to deal with all the hurdles as soon as possible. We need to start the divorce proceedings, you and Louis-Marie have to agree on Esther’s custody, we have to think about moving in together …”

  He felt Pauline stiffen as she heard this painful to-do list.

  “I’ll do everything I can to make it easier on you,” Robert continued. “Like I said before, if you want me to talk to Louis-Marie …”

  “No!”

  “Pauline …We have to do this. You can’t go back now. …”

  She agreed but still felt the same panic at the thought of a total breakup.

  “Since you didn’t feel like going to Venice, I booked a room at the Mont d’Arbois, in Megève. This way we’re guaranteed a white Christmas. With real snow, not that gray, disgusting Paris slush. How does that sound?”

  Pauline pretended to be delighted, but she felt no excitement at the thought of a Christmas Eve in the mountains. Worried, Robert turned onto his side and leaned on his elbow.

  “You still love him?” he asked, his voice faltering.

  Suddenly he was afraid that she’d change her mind, that she’d be too weak to want to confront the pains of a divorce.

  “I can’t just erase ten years of my life by snapping my fingers!” Pauline said.

  He took her in his arms, pulled her against him miserably.

  “I wouldn’t be able to cope if you left me now, Pauline. We’re right there. It’s just a painful moment. I’m insanely in love with you. …”

  It was true, she was driving him mad. And she kept on saying nothing, increasing Robert’s sudden terror.

  “If you go to Fonteyne,” he said, “I’ll chuck everything, I’ll settle at the end of the world, and you’ll never see me again!”

  Pauline wondered how he’d interpreted her hesitation. He was now up, pacing across the room, jaw shut tight.

  “So you bought the plane tickets to Geneva?” she asked, with a smile.

  He came back to the bed and knelt next to her.

  “Stop scaring me all the time,” he pleaded.

  Jules left Fernande’s room, reassured. The old lady was well taken care of and recovering nicely from her pneumonia. She’d searched nervously for any trace of ill feeling on Jules’s face. But he’d done nothing but smile at her, kind and affectionate.

  Under the stares of a number of nurses, Jules headed for the elevators. Hands buried in his pockets, he was waiting for the elevator when, all of a sudden, he walked to the nurses’ station and asked which room was Alex’s. He made his way through a maze of hallways before reaching his brother’s door. There, he took a deep breath and walked in without knocking.

  Alex was coming out of the bathroom. He was startled at the sight of his brother and had the instinct to turn back but controlled himself. Jules was standing still, leaning against the door he’d closed behind him.

  “Am I bothering you?” he asked.

  Alex shook his head and said nothing. Jules scanned the room. As Alex had been here for some time now, the room was filled with books and personal belongings.

  “How are you?”

  “I’m getting out tomorrow.”

  “Where are you going to stay?”

  “Well … Mazion, I suppose.”

  Jules took out his pack of Gitanes but just fiddled with it.

  “You can have a smoke if you want to,” Alex said. “It’s not allowed, but …”

  As he went over to the bedside table to get an ashtray, Jules saw that his brother was limping and that his body was stiff. Alex accepted a cigarette and waited for Jules to speak. A long moment of silence followed, finally broken by Alex.

  “The field?”

  “Cleaned up. I think it’s going to be fine next year.”

  “And Marc?”

  “Don’t know,” Jules said, matter-of-factly. “Don’t care, either.”

  “And of course you’re mad at me.”

  “Of course.”

  “I understand.”

  “I don’t think you do, no.”

  Alexandre looked his brother right in the eyes.

  “Why did you come here? Why today?”

  “I didn’t come to see you. Fernande was hospitalized for pneumonia. But she’s doing really well. If you’re allowed to walk around the hospital, you should go see her.”

  “I don’t know if she’d be happy to see me. …”

  “You, me, all of us, I think that even if we were terrorists she’d love us the same as always.”

  He studied Alex’s face as he talked, as though he was trying to recognize him.

  “You’ve changed,” he suddenly said.

  Alex sat on the edge of the bed. He looked at his feet for a moment, then raised his head.

  “It’s you. It’s because of you. … Everything is always because of you. As long as I can remember it’s been like that. But you love it. To be at the heart of everything.”

  Taken aback, Jules found nothing to say.

  Alex sighed heavily, before adding, “I asked Dr. Auber …”

  “He gave me the message.”

  “It took him a long time!”

  “Listen,” Jules said. “Laurène gave birth in the castle, it’s been snowing and hailing for days, and …”

  “Don’t give me excuses,” Alex said, sneering.

  Once again they kept quiet for a moment, both careful not to let the animosity between them get out of hand.

  “I stopped drinking,” Alex finally said.

  “Oh yeah? It’s not like you had a choice. …”

  “That’s not true. Some nurses can be very lenient if you know how to approach them. I just didn’t want to.”

  “That’s great.”

  Alex got up, took a step toward Jules, then stopped. He then headed for the window, muttering, “You never ask yourself any questions, do you? Ever. You think you’re right and that’s it. You’re heading in the right direction all the time, you’re on the right track. And you’re judging me from way up in your ivory tower.”

  “Funny,” Jules said, “I’m beginning to hear violins playing in the background.”

  Alex spun around and gave his brother a furious stare.

  “Look at you!” he said. “You’re standing there, not a single friendly gesture, not a word of regret …”

  “Regret? You’ve got to be kidding me! I was only defending myself, my land!”

  The door opened and a nurse’s aide, wearing a white coat, came in to set a tray of food on the table. They waited for him to leave the room before looking at each other again.

  “You wanted to talk to me,” Jules reminded Alex.

  “Yes … That’s right. …”

  Alex glanced at the ground beef and green beans and made a face.

  “I wanted to talk to you about Dominique. I was awful with her. …”

  “You hit her, I know.”

  “I did worse than that. I think I raped her, too. …”

  Dumbfounded, Jules said nothing.

  “That’s why I didn’t want to see her these past weeks. Because I’m ashamed. If I tell Louis-Marie that, he’s going to pat me on the back and say everything is going to be okay. While you’re going to drag me through the mud as soon as soon as the shock wears off. … No? At least you can tell me what kind of frame of mind she’s in, without sugarcoating it.”

  Alex suddenly looked so miserable that Jules replied, without thinking, “I can’t read her mind, you know. Since you’re getting out of here tomorrow, maybe she could come pick you up. The problem with you is that you always run
away from things. Or if you attack, it’s from behind.”

  Alex crossed the room to plant himself in front of Jules.

  “You know, I could live without your lectures.”

  He expected a reaction that didn’t come, and he turned away and sighed once again.

  “Well, if she agrees. Why not?”

  “I’m going to ask her,” Jules said. He put a hand on the door handle and added, “If she goes along with this, she’ll come tomorrow with the Mercedes and bring you back to Fonteyne.”

  “Why Fonteyne?” Alex asked quickly, as though the idea of it scared him.

  Jules gave him a half-smile. He opened the door, hesitated, and then said before stepping out, “Well, you’re going to spend Christmas with us, aren’t you?”

  In the toy store, Laurène hadn’t been able to contain herself, so an employee had to help her take all the bags to the car. Dominique burst out laughing at the sight of her sister’s sheepish expression.

  “The check you just signed must’ve been huge!” she said.

  “I bought tons of stuff for Lucie,” Laurène admitted. “And presents for your boys and for Esther. But it’s Christmas!”

  Dominique nodded and took her sister by the shoulder.

  “Let’s go have a cup of coffee. I’m dead on my feet from all this shopping.”

  “Jules told me to go all out. This is his first Christmas without Aurélien, and he’s scared he’s going to be sad. And so he wants things to be grandiose this year. And he’s thrilled that this year he has a child of his own at Christmastime.”

  They entered a bistro and sat face-to-face.

  “In Fernande’s absence, I’m having a terrible time coming up with a menu,” Dominique said with a sigh. “Your husband insists that we invite Lucas for Christmas dinner, which is great.”

  “How about Pauline? Did Louis-Marie say anything about her?”

  “Not yet. And I haven’t broached the subject with him.”

  The same went for Alexandre. They didn’t dare mention him, or their parents and grandmother.

  “And what about your secret admirer, Bernard?” Dominique asked.

  Amused, Laurène raised her eyes to the ceiling and said, “In the kitchen, with Clothilde!”

  “That kid’s become indispensable in no time at all. He fixes things, paints, takes care of the castle’s grounds … And since he’s gaga about you and he’s got a lot of good ideas, you should let him take over a few things in and around the house, honey.”

  Dominique gave her young sister a smile of encouragement, but Laurène lowered her head, looking embarrassed.

  “Come on,” Dominique said, “don’t act like that. You’re not fifteen anymore. You’re a mother. You can’t keep on behaving like when Aurélien was around, as a guest, an employee.”

  “But you’re back now. And you’re staying for good, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Dominique said, without hesitation.

  “So you’re the one in charge. You’re the oldest, and you know Fonteyne inside out!”

  “Laurène … You’re Mrs. Jules Laverzac. …”

  “Yeah, so? I’m going to raise our children and adore my husband for the rest of my life. Isn’t that enough?”

  Dominique laughed again, and Laurène felt cheerful. With her sister by her side, nothing could ever seem that bad. They left the bistro and drove back to Fonteyne. The weather was milder, and the snow was beginning to melt. Clothilde and Bernard gave them a hand unloading the trunk of the car, and Laurène rushed upstairs where Lucie was quietly sleeping. She admired her for a moment with great pride. By giving Jules a child, she’d made him happy. And as long as he was happy, he’d keep her. No matter what people around her thought, she felt she could face anything for Jules’s sake. So many people had told her that one had to earn a husband like Jules, that she had to be up to the task of being his wife, that she had to stand up to him if need be, and other such useless advice. Laurène knew the essentials: Jules was a man of honor, a man of his word. All she had to do was be a good wife and a good mother for Jules never to break his commitment to her. The fact that she wasn’t the greatest housekeeper right now didn’t matter much. She’d learn and get better with time. And that her personality wasn’t strong enough to fascinate Jules also didn’t make a whole lot of difference, as his only passion was the estate and nothing and no one would ever change that. There would doubtlessly be other women—maybe there were already—trying to take her husband away from her. But now there was Lucie-Malvoisie, an adorable little angel who protected her mother. It was, after all, because of her that Jules had agreed to marry Laurène, to build his future with her.

  Laurène fixed the crib’s blankets. Yes, this baby would be her best protection, but she was ready to do absolutely everything to make her happiness last. Jules was the man she loved, and she’d never give him a reason to regret their being together.

  She went down to the library where the rest of the family was having drinks. Jules, who’d just beat Louis-Marie at chess, greeted her arrival with a large grin.

  “The children are dying to decorate the Christmas tree,” Dominique said while serving Laurène a glass of Margaux. “I’m going to ask Clothilde to bring the decorations down from the attic.”

  “I can help them out for an hour or two tomorrow morning,” Louis-Marie said. “They can’t do it by themselves. Did you see the size of that tree?”

  Dominique turned to her sister.

  “Jules put it up in the main living room. It’s gorgeous and it must be twelve feet tall. …”

  “Everybody knows kids like big, tall Christmas trees,” Jules said. “Esther adores it. She said she was going to be in charge of the ornaments, while the twins can take care of the lights.”

  “Okay,” Louis-Marie said, feigning resignation, “I’ll spend the entire morning with them. They’re going to need a referee, I can feel it.”

  The atmosphere was cheerful, warm, relaxed.

  Jules thought the moment was right and slyly turned to Dominique and said, “Are you going to Bordeaux tomorrow? Because if you were going into town to shop or to visit Fernande, I told Alex that maybe you’d pick him up and bring him back here. …”

  A moment of stunned silence followed, and then Dominique said, “Here?”

  “Yes, here. … But only if you want to, if that would make you happy. I thought he could spend Christmas with us.”

  “You talked to him?”

  “This morning.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “Him? Not much, as usual. But like I said, it’s entirely up to you, Dominique. …”

  She put her glass down, crossed the entire length of the library, bent down, and kissed Jules’s cheek.

  “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.

  He looked her straight in the eye and said, “You think about it, and you do what you want.”

  He got up so that she wouldn’t be able to thank him again. He’d decided nothing and had contradictory feelings toward his brother. He hadn’t asked himself whether an eventual cohabitation would be feasible. He didn’t want to think about his brother’s situation beyond this Christmas. He simply believed that the family should be united for the holidays. He wasn’t certain he’d made the right decision, but he didn’t want to be the one who kept people apart.

  Clothilde timidly opened the door and mumbled something that must’ve meant that dinner was ready.

  The following morning, the kids woke and saw with disappointment that all the snow had melted. Dominique had slept very badly. Of course, for the past several weeks now, she’d wondered what the future would hold for her. She had no use for an alcoholic, abusive husband. Even if Alex was now sober, was he going to remain that way? A long, forced stay in the hospital had apparently knocked some sense into him, but how long would it last? If he’d refused to see Dominique for so long, was it out of bitterness or guilt? Maybe he thought that his wife had abandoned him, taking refuge at Fonteyne and putti
ng herself under the protection of Jules, the worst affront possible. But, he’d done so much worse himself.

  Dominique had loved Alexandre too much to easily forgive him for her bruises and his cruelty. She was convinced that they’d made a terrible mistake by leaving Fonteyne after Aurélien’s death. But how could they get back on track now? She thought that Jules hated Alex for good. The trial, the heinous insinuations, the destruction of the field weren’t things he would forget about anytime soon.

  Often at night, she’d cry thinking of the inevitable divorce. The twins often asked about their dad. How could she explain to them that he was basically banned from the paradise that was Fonteyne?

  Dominique sat behind the wheel of the Mercedes. She started the engine and slowly worked her way down the driveway. She hadn’t seen Alexandre in three months and felt extremely anxious. For the entire trip, she tried not to think of their reunion, about what she was going to tell him. She’d dressed normally, without any particular effort. It wasn’t up to her to win back her husband, she’d decided.

  She parked in the rear of the hospital and had to ask the information desk for her husband’s room number. She quickly walked down the hallways and wound up in front of Alexandre’s room without having had time to gather her thoughts. She knocked. He didn’t call out for her to enter but came to the door himself. He was wearing jeans and a black turtleneck. She thought he was pale and skinny, but his eyes had a sparkle she hadn’t seen in a long time.

  “You came to get me?” he asked, with a silly grin. “That’s nice of you. But I think that … well … maybe you and I should talk a little, right?”

  She felt much more emotional than she’d anticipated. She tried to come up with something to say but could only mumble incomprehensible words.

  “My stuff is ready,” he said. “I’m not exactly unhappy to leave. Actually, I can’t stand this room anymore. … So we could chat in the car, if that’s okay with you. I took care of all the paperwork this morning, so we can just go.”

  She nodded and he went over to the bed to grab his suitcase, trying to hide his limp. She refrained from offering any help carrying his suitcase, not wanting to embarrass him, and she walked in front of him all the way to the parking lot.