The Perfect Happiness

by Santa Montefiore

  While they played in their bedrooms, Angelica went upstairs to her office. She switched on her computer and began to sort through her post. It was surreal how quickly life returned to normal. Rosenbosch began to feel like a dream. With a suspended heart she clicked on her e-mails. She barely dared breathe as the list came through. She scanned it, wishing for an e-mail from Jack, knowing that he hadn’t sent one.

  There was only one thing to do: write her letter and send it off. Delete his details from her e-mail and telephone. She should have done it months ago, before she had fallen so far, before her vanity had overpowered her. She pulled out a sheet of monogrammed writing paper and turned on her iPod, choosing Ennio Morricone’s sound track to Once upon a Time in the West. She wrote in turquoise ink to match the printed address at the top of the page, and she wrote with care, choosing her words judiciously.

  My darling DOP, this is the hardest letter I will ever have to write, but for my own sanity and the good of my husband and children, I feel there is no other ending for us—with all the will in the world I am unable to find a happy one. As you said when you lay bleeding beside me, “We’ve had fun, haven’t we?” We’ve had more than fun, Jack, we’ve shared something rare and magical. You’ve shown me my wings and taught me how to use them.

  I am trying to understand why you chose not to be honest with me and to forgive you, but I’m not like Anna; I’m full of human frailties while she has surely been touched by the angels. My heart bleeds for you and for us as I leave you in the loving arms of your wife and daughters. But it’s just not meant to be. We were given a glimpse of paradise, but now the clouds have closed and that glimpse has gone forever. I know I will never see you again but in my dreams.

  Rest well, my love. There’s no one more qualified to accompany you along your final path than Anna, although I will be with you in my thoughts. Please don’t try to contact me; it will only make it harder for both of us. I will always love you. Sage

  She wept as she wrote it, wiping her eyes on her sleeve so that she didn’t smudge the ink. So it really was good-bye. She wrote the envelope and sealed it, staring at the address and remembering those camphor trees, the pavilion on the lake, the mountain range, the sunsets, and Jack with his wavy hair swept off his broad face, his gentle brown eyes, and his roguish grin. Then she cried all over again because it hurt so much to think of his dying.

  She deleted his details from her computer and mobile telephone and gave the letter to Sunny to post. She felt as if an invisible rope connecting them across the globe was now severed. Hugging her children was the greatest medicine for her injured heart. When she went into Isabel’s room, she found her at her dressing table, applying makeup.

  “Darling, look at you!” She laughed, putting her arms around her daughter from behind. “That’s the reddest lipstick I’ve ever seen!”

  “Kate left it behind,” said Isabel nonchalantly. “I stole it.” She grinned mischievously.

  “Really? Today?”

  “No, while you were away. She came to see Daddy.”

  Angelica’s stomach cramped. “Did she?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you say hello?”

  “No, we were meant to be in bed. But Joe and I watched from the top of the stairs.”

  “You spy!” she tried to sound lighthearted, but her instincts were screaming at her. “What were they talking about?”

  “I don’t know. They were having a glass of wine.”

  Angelica felt sick. Why hadn’t Olivier told her? Or Kate, for that matter? She thought Olivier loathed Kate. She hurried from her daughter’s bedroom to seek refuge in the bathroom. Leaning against the marble, she stared at her stricken face in the mirror. Little by little, comments that Kate had made, that had meant nothing at the time, now added up to something far more sinister. The fact that she knew his birthday, the time she had said how much she’d love to wake up to him every morning—and countless more. Was Olivier having an affair with Kate? Was Olivier the father of Kate’s child? Was that why Kate was unable to name her lover? She sank onto the loo seat and put her face in her hands. It suddenly made an awful lot of sense. And she had been so smug in assuming that her husband was the last person in the world to whom Kate would turn for comfort.

  Tormented by these thoughts, she muddled through the children’s homework until the doorbell rang to relieve her. She opened it cautiously. On seeing Angie standing there wringing her hands, she fell into her mother’s arms with a sob. Angie immediately grew in stature, responding to her daughter’s need with efficiency and self-importance. She helped her into the kitchen, sent the children upstairs to watch television, and put the kettle on, taking down two cups and a teapot from the cupboard. It had been years since she had set foot in Angelica’s house. She had forgotten how pretty it was.

  “My life is unraveling,” Angelica sniffed, slumping in her chair.

  “I’m here now, love. Everything is going to be all right.” Angie opened the fridge and took out a bottle of milk. “I want you to tell me exactly what happened. Get it all out. Cry as much as you need to. You’ll feel so much better. A problem shared is a problem halved.”

  Angelica didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’d already shared it with Candace, which must mean that it would now be quartered. She watched her mother bustle about and felt a surge of gratitude.

  “Thank you for coming.”

  Angie placed the cups on the table. “I needed to make sure that you were all right.” She narrowed her eyes and scrutinized her daughter’s face as only a mother can. “Which, you clearly aren’t. But you’re going to be fine. We’re going to discuss this until you feel strong again.” She filled the teapot and placed it on the table, then sat down. “Nothing like a cup of tea to revive the spirits.”

  “You’re so English, Mother.”

  “What do you expect?” She chuckled throatily. “So tell me, what happened?”

  Angelica took a sip of tea, revived indeed by the hot liquid. Then she told her mother about the robbery. To her surprise, her mother listened without saying a word. Her face showed her horror, but she didn’t interrupt, not once. Angelica felt the full force of her mother’s attention and blossomed beneath it. Riding a wave of confidence, she confessed her adultery. Before she knew it, she was confiding everything, knowing that no one would understand like Angie. After all, Angie had just about done it all.

  “I’m so sorry your heart has been broken, love,” she said, her orange skin crinkling with compassion. She placed her pudgy hand on top of Angelica’s and gave it a squeeze. “You think when you marry that broken hearts are a thing of the past, gone with your misguided youth. But the truth is, you’re never too old to have your heart broken. I assume Olivier doesn’t know?” Angelica nodded, blinking through tears. “Good. Don’t tell him. Honesty is not always the best policy.”

  “Should I forgive Jack for betraying me?”

  “He didn’t betray you, love. He lost his heart to you and did all he could to protect it. There’s nothing wrong with that. Don’t feel aggrieved. Forgive him for being fallible, but don’t blame him for being dishonest. You’ve lived a wonderful love affair, such as most people never experience in an entire lifetime. What a privilege to have loved like that. Denny and I had to sleep with other people to feel a sense of adventure.”

  Angelica wiped her face with her sleeve. “Don’t you love each other enough?”

  “We love each other enough to trust each other, if that’s what you mean.”

  “I hated your swinging parties as a child. I felt they were more important than us.”

  “I know you did, love. That’s why I wanted to come and see you today. I nearly lost you in South Africa, and that would have meant that I never had the opportunity to tell you how sorry I am that you felt like that. It’s been bothering me for years, but I was too proud to talk to you about it. The robbery concentrated my thoughts. Life is too short to spend it with one’s head under the carpet, avoiding the importa
nt things. The truth is that Denny and I were very selfish in those days. We let you down when you needed us most. I wanted to come now, because you’re never too old to need your mother, and it’s never too late for your mother to come to your aid.”

  Angelica took Angie’s hand. “It’s never too late, Mum.”

  When the doorbell rang again, Angelica looked confused.

  “That’ll be your sister, Angelica. She’s come to pick me up. She also wanted to see you.”

  “You can stay here if you like,” Angelica suggested.

  “You need to be with your husband. I can’t have two sons-in-law falling by the wayside. Go and open the door, love. Daisy’s been worrying, too.”

  Angelica unbolted the door. Daisy stood on the doorstep looking pale and ashamed. Her big eyes shone with regret that so many years had been wasted in bitterness. Without a word they embraced. They understood each other without the need to articulate in syllables what they both felt in their hearts. Angie went to the cupboard and took down another cup.

  After they had gone Angelica bathed the children and put them to bed. She lingered over their bedtime stories and smothered their smooth faces with kisses, taking pleasure from every moment, however small. She enjoyed the Full Joe and the Full Isabel, savoring the smell of their skin and the warm feel of their bodies as they wrapped themselves around her, begging her to stay just a little longer. She shoved Kate to the back of her mind as she made every effort to live in the present.

  Downstairs, she poured herself a large glass of wine. She sat at the kitchen table and deliberated whether to confront Olivier. If he was innocent, wouldn’t her suspicion lead him to suspect her? She was afraid even to mention adultery in case he questioned why she was considering it. Olivier was very astute and rarely missed a trick. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that he might start doing sums of his own.

  As she prepared dinner, she thought of Anna, trying to channel some of her wisdom and tolerance. Say Olivier and Kate had slept together: Kate had said it was a one-night stand that had meant nothing, something they both regretted, it wasn’t going to happen again, in which case it wasn’t an affair, but a mistake. How could she pass judgment when she herself had fallen in love with Jack and had an affair lasting months? At least Kate and Olivier weren’t in love with each other. She could forgive that. But what of Kate’s baby? Please God, let that baby belong to Pete.

  At last Olivier arrived. He swung open the door and called her name, a vast bouquet of lilies in his arms. “I thought these would make you feel better,” he said. Angelica tried to behave normally and took them from him with a smile. The actions of a guilty man? she wondered.

  “They’re lovely, thank you.”

  He kissed her. “How are you feeling?”

  “So much better. Mum came and we talked. Then Daisy joined us. It was good. We should have done it years ago.”

  “Sometimes it takes a scare to frighten everyone into realizing what’s important.” He looked at her intensely.

  She returned his look, searching for any indication of his adultery. “You’re so right.”

  “I bet the children were pleased to see you.”

  “So pleased.”

  “They missed you.”

  “And I missed them.”

  “Did you miss me?” he asked, pulling a sheepish face.

  “Of course I did.” She watched him take off his coat and hang it in the cupboard. In all his years of flirting she had never feared he’d leave her. Now she was no longer sure of him. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  “I’d love one.” He followed her into the kitchen. “So what’s up?”

  “Kate has left Pete,” she said, watching his reaction carefully.

  “I’m surprised he didn’t leap first.” He shrugged. “It was always going to happen.”

  “I don’t know. I thought they were trying to make it work.”

  “No one could possibly stay married to her.”

  She stood at the stove and stirred the tomato sauce for the pasta. “I thought the baby might help them patch it up.”

  “I did, too.”

  “It might not be Pete’s.”

  He looked interested. “Really? Whose does she think it might be?”

  “Someone she had a one-night stand with at the end of the summer.”

  He didn’t look at all ruffled. “Does Pete know?”

  “No, Pete thinks it’s his, which, of course, it might be.”

  He shook his head and tutted disapprovingly. “She’s a very careless girl.”

  “I’m not even sure that the man she slept with has a clue that he might have got her pregnant.”

  “Let’s hope it is Pete’s, then.” He took a sip of wine. “Or someone is going to get a shock when the baby is born.”

  Angelica was confused. If Olivier was the man Kate had slept with, wouldn’t he have been a little more flustered at the prospect that he might be the father of Kate’s unborn child? Unless he already knew, in which case he would have had plenty of time to hatch a plan. Perhaps that was why Kate had come around. Maybe she had seized the moment, as Angelica was away, to confront him and tell him about his possible child. Still, he was remarkably cool for a man keeping such a terrible secret.

  The following week, Angelica avoided Kate as much as she could. Every time she saw her belly she imagined Olivier’s baby inside, looking just like Joe or Isabel. Her fear distracted her from thinking about Jack, but it inhibited her creativity. Much as she tried, she was unable to get back into her book, in spite of the flood of inspiration she had received in South Africa. To keep herself busy and away from her desk, she continued her Pilates classes three times a week and spent as much time as possible with Candace, for her friend confirmed over and again that she had done the right thing in cutting all contact with Jack, even though the absence of his texts and e-mails hurt her daily.

  At the beginning of March, Kate invited Olivier and Angelica for dinner to meet Edmondo, the now infamous count. Diluted in the company of Art and Tod, Letizia and Gaitano, Candace and Harry, and Scarlet and William, Olivier gave no indication of intimacy with Kate, and Kate, all over Edmondo like a wiry octopus, barely tossed him a glance. If they shared a secret, they deserved Oscars for their ability to dissemble.

  Edmondo was a central casting count: dark and handsome, with thick glossy hair, smooth brown skin, and a large, sensual mouth, almost bruised from so much kissing. He spoke with a strong Italian accent that Angelica found as attractive as Olivier’s French one, and he gesticulated with his hands. He was confident and funny and wild about Kate. Having expected an awkward evening pretending they all liked him, they were surprised to discover that no pretense was necessary.

  Kate dragged the girls into her bedroom after dinner to discuss him. “I’m so grateful that he likes me, belly and all,” she said. “I mean, he’s never even had a child of his own, so having to put up with my two, and this one in here, is Herculean.” She looked so pathetically grateful that even Candace was unable to find anything cynical to say.

  It was only when Kate texted her friends in panic a week later that Angelica pushed aside her suspicions and ran to her aid, leaving the children to have tea with Sunny. Kate opened the door and grabbed her by the wrist. “You have to hear this. You won’t believe it.” She didn’t look tearful and bedraggled like she had the day of the pregnancy test. Instead, she almost looked amused. The doorbell went again, and Candace walked in with Letizia. Angelica found Scarlet in a pair of black velvet hot pants drinking a cup of tea on the club fender. She beckoned her over with a wave of her hand, the rows of bracelets jingling on her arm like armor.

  “Hi, doll. This is hilarious!” she said, flicking her blond bob.

  “At least she hasn’t split up with Edmondo.”

  “God, no, to the contrary, that seems to be rocking.”

  “So what’s happened now?”

  “I’m not going to spoil it. She has to tell you herself.”
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  “Did we all need to schlep out to hear it?”

  “Yes. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

  Letizia and Candace came into the sitting room. “Tea, anyone?” asked Kate breezily.

  “Yes, please,” said Candace. “You can lace it with something stronger if you think we need fortification.”

  “I’m the one needing fortification, but I’ve given up booze.”

  “Really?” asked Letizia, sitting down on the sofa.

  “Really. I’ve clearly got a problem, so I’ve joined AA. Edmondo is supporting me all the way.”

  “I’m impressed,” said Candace. “Generous and sensible.”

  Kate knelt on the floor beside the coffee table and poured the tea into mugs. “Biscuit, anyone?”

  “No, just tell us what this is all about,” said Angelica, trying not to look too hard at her protruding belly.

  “Okay, here, take your tea.” She handed Angelica a mug.

  “Are you going to tell us who the mystery man is?” Angelica hadn’t meant her voice to sound so edgy.

  “I wish I could say it was Edmondo’s. I’d love a little Italian child.”

  “I highly recommend them,” said Letizia cheerfully.

  “So what is it, then?” Candace asked.

  “So I’m called in to see Mrs. Moncrieff.”

  “She called you?” Letizia asked.

  “The secretary did. I thought I was in trouble. I’m in my forties, and I felt like a schoolgirl again, called in to see the headmistress. So in I go. She asks me to sit. She’s looking really embarrassed. Actually, I’m feeling sorry for her. She puts her elbows on the table and knits her fingers. “I’m very sorry to have to mention this, Mrs. Fox, but I feel I should explain before you see Amelia’s form teacher. You see, Amelia brought something quite inappropriate for Show and Tell this morning.” As you can imagine my mind was racing with all sorts of possibilities, but I could never have guessed it would be my vibrator!” She watched with pleasure as they all stared at her.