Alexa felt bright color flame in her face, and she cried, “I was dancing with him, and quite intimately, I suppose. I admit that. But we were only dancing. And I wasn’t flirting with him. He was flirting with me. He had a tendency to do that, as you well know, Jessica. And you also know it, Maria.” Alexa gave Kay a very direct look and added, “I saw Riccardo Martinelli flirting with you, Kay, the Sunday night we all went to the Deux Magots for coffee. After your birthday dinner.”
Kay sighed. “Yes, that’s perfectly correct, Alexa.” Kay turned to Maria. “He did flirt with me. And with everyone, if you want the absolute truth. Riccardo couldn’t help himself. He was after all of us. I wasn’t interested in him, though, and in all honesty I don’t think Alexa was either. I have to take her side in that.”
“Listen to me, Maria,” Alexa cried. “You were getting fat, and you knew it and you were a very troubled young woman. Not at all happy with yourself or your relationship with Riccardo. So you dreamed up this idea of me trying to steal him, when all along he was at fault, not I. You just couldn’t help yourself, I suppose. But you behaved very badly. You took it out on me, and that was not fair play.”
“I didn’t—”
“Yes, you did! You went running off to Jessica, because you were jealous of our friendship, and you turned her against me, broke up our friendship.”
Maria was stunned and she gaped at Alexa. But she said nothing.
Alexa went on. “Why? Why didn’t you come to me? Have it out with me, for heaven’s sake. You were really sneaky, and you genuinely hurt me. I was heartbroken about losing Jessica’s friendship.”
Maria seemed about to burst into tears, and did not respond. She threw Jessica a helpless look, said in a plaintive voice, “I know I accused Alexa, Jess, but I did believe she was trying to steal Riccardo from me, and I was so in love with him. Now I realize accusing her was an error, and I apologized to Alexa yesterday. I said I was sorry, and I do say that to you too.”
“Maria was jealous of our friendship,” Alexa announced to Jessica, staring hard at her.
Jessica exclaimed, “Oh, I don’t know about that—”
Maria interrupted when she admitted, “I think I was jealous—no, perhaps that is the wrong word. I believe I was envious of your relationship. You seemed to have so much in common. You laughed a lot. At the same things.
Sometimes I felt shut out.… ”
“But we’re both Americans!” Jessica cried. “Of course we had a lot in common … like growing up with the same values in the same country, for one thing. And liking the same movies, music, and books … and hamburgers and hot dogs and Dr Pepper and banana splits … And the same clothes and makeup … well, the list is endless, Maria. But I truly never thought we were excluding you. Or Kay.”
“But you were!” Kay shot back, her voice suddenly and unexpectedly shrill. “And you did it a lot.”
“Let’s finish with Maria and Jessica,” Alexa instructed firmly, giving Kay a warning look.
Jessica shook her head, blew out air. “Gee whiz, to coin an American phrase! I guess I did the wrong thing seven years ago, Alexa. I listened to Maria, a very tearful Maria, I might add, and I made a judgment. A flawed judgment, as it turns out. I guess I should have talked it out with you.”
“Yes, you should have, but you didn’t want to,” Alexa snapped. “You were caught up with Lucien’s disappearance. I realized that then, and I acknowledge it now.
However, you weren’t fair to me. Just because you had serious personal problems should not have precluded you from being straight and open with me. You just stopped speaking to me.… ”
“I did, yes, and that was wrong. My only excuse is that I was extremely upset about Lucien, heartbroken. And I would like to point out that you weren’t very helpful or sympathetic at the time.” She gave Alexa a hard stare. “I expected more from you, of all people, under the circumstances.”
“You expected sympathy, and I gave it to you! But you weren’t receptive. And you didn’t make it easy. You were far too busy condemning me for being a man snatcher, as you put it, and so you never even heard my sympathetic tone of voice. Or my offers to help you in any way I could. You didn’t want my help, only Alain Bonnal’s.”
Jessica sat back; her face had turned pale under her tan. She looked suddenly haggard, and her eyes filled with tears. “I think you might have a point,” she admitted finally.
Alexa nodded, and then looked at Maria and said, “And thank you, Maria, for being honest yesterday, and again today.”
Anya said, “Yes, it certainly does help to clear the air. And what about you, Kay? Do you have anything to add to this?”
“I … well, I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” Jessica suddenly demanded a little harshly, sitting up in the chair, determinedly brushing away her tears. She glared at Kay, who sat opposite her. “You certainly had enough to say about us when we were at school here, and usually it was behind our backs! You gossiped about us.”
“I certainly did not!” Kay cried, her voice once more rising an octave or two. Endeavoring to get a grip on her anger, reminding herself she was now Lady Andrews, she took several deep breaths, striving for dignity. Then she said, “I never talked about any of you behind your backs.”
“You’re a liar, Kay. You did bad-mouth us—Alexa, Maria, and me,” Jessica accused in an icy voice.
“How dare you call me a liar!” Kay looked at Alexa. “She is lying. Not I.”
Jessica half rose, and then sat back down in the chair. “You did talk about us. I was informed of everything you said, and by a very good source. You said Alexa was superior and a snob, that she was always snubbing you. That Maria was a rich snob and treated you like a servant, and that I was a la-di-da Southern belle, forever taunting you, teasing you, putting you down. You called us the three bitches. Not very nice, Lady Andrews.”
A bright scarlet flush rose from Kay’s pale neck to suffuse her face; she blinked back the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. Her hand went up to her throat, and then a moment later she fumbled in her bag for a handkerchief.
Wanting to give Kay a moment or two to compose herself, Alexa turned to Jessica and said, “If you want the truth about how I felt, I was heartbroken, Jessica. Your friendship was very important to me. We were two American girls alone in Paris, and we had clicked right from the beginning, and then one day you simply dumped me without a proper explanation. And all along I thought we had such a meaningful relationship.”
Jessica stared at her, said nothing, simply twisted her gold bracelet on her wrist. Her eyes were suddenly anguished. She knew deep within herself that she had wronged Alexa, and she was upset. She had listened to Maria, and acted stupidly, without thinking it through. What a fool she had been.
“I felt truly betrayed,” Alexa murmured, sighing. “I hope you understand that now.”
“I do. I’m—” Jessica cut herself off, took a deep breath. “I’m so very sorry. I have no excuse. Except to say that I was crazy at the time, off the wall with worry because of Lucien Girard’s disappearance.”
“I know. And I did try to help. You just didn’t want to hear me, I suppose, because of Maria’s story, and perhaps because you were just a little jealous of me.”
“Me? Jealous of you? Come on, Alexa. I’m not the jealous type,” Jessica responded heatedly, shifting in the chair, glaring.
“That’s true, to a certain extent. But you were jealous of my success at the school, and my relationship with Anya,” Alexa pointed out very softly, her anger now suddenly dissipated.
Anya sat up alertly, cringing inside, her eyes roaming over the four women, studying them. She remained absolutely silent, and she felt suddenly regretful that she might have played favorites at different times in the past.
“I don’t believe this,” Jessica exclaimed. “Alexa, how can you say such a stupid thing?”
“It’s not stupid. It’s true. You and I were in many of the same classes, and
I knew then you were jealous and envious because I received such a lot of accolades and won most of the prizes. But you were silly to be jealous. I was a set designer, not an interior designer … it’s not the same. And you were the most brilliant interior designer in the class, so far above any other student. I knew you were going to be a huge success.”
Suddenly Jessica’s face underwent change, her anger now replaced by a chagrined expression. After a moment or two of thought, she admitted in a low, deflated voice, “Maybe I was jealous … yes, that’s true. I’m … sorry, Alexa. I owe you an apology.”
“I accept your apology.” Alexa glanced at Maria. “And I accept yours too. Now, Kay, let’s hear from you.”
Kay’s white face looked stark against her black dress and jacket, and she shook her head, momentarily unable to say a word.
There were a few seconds of quiet in the library. None of the women spoke. Anya glanced from one to the other, suddenly worried about Kay. She looked as though she were about to faint.
And then Kay finally spoke, breaking the silence. “It’s true that I did harbor a few grudges against all of you. We had been so close and happy together for three years, and then a few months before graduation you all changed toward me. I really didn’t understand. I thought you didn’t like me anymore because I didn’t have your upbringing, your family backgrounds. You all slighted me.”
Alexa stared hard at her, frowning, totally nonplussed. “But we didn’t slight you, and certainly we didn’t think you were any different than we were. Did we, Jessica?”
“No.”
“Did we, Maria?”
“No, Alexa, not at all.”
“But I felt the change in you,” Kay protested.
Alexa said quietly, “I think we changed for the reasons we’ve just discussed. The problems were about me, Maria, and Jessica.” She let out a small sigh. “Sadly, you just imagined we had changed toward you, but we hadn’t. Honestly.”
“We never knew much about you or your background, Kay,” Maria volunteered. She smiled at Kay, having now recovered her equilibrium. “You never confided. But you had beautiful clothes, plenty of money, an air of breeding. We did not think of you as being different.”
Kay was silent.
Jessica said, “Look, if I ever slighted you in any way, then I’m sorry. I do sincerely apologize, Kay. But I don’t believe I did.”
“I agree with Jessica, and with Maria.” Alexa shook her head. “We never thought you were different, not as good as us. We were simply caught up in our own troubles, as I just said.” She gave Kay a huge smile and finished. “We always thought of you as one of us.”
“But I wasn’t,” Kay said slowly. “I was different.” She stopped, looked across at Anya.
Anya nodded, encouraging her to continue.
“I was a poor girl from the Glasgow slums,” Kay confided in a fading voice. “But my mother worked hard to give me an education at a good boarding school in England. And then she sent me here to Anya’s school.”
“We didn’t know,” Jessica said. “And we really wouldn’t have cared. We loved you for being you, Kay, and for your talent and caring ways.”
Kay nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said in a regretful tone. “But I was so hurt at one moment. I felt you’d cut me out, that’s why I said the things I did.” She groped again for the handkerchief and wiped her eyes.
The four women sat quietly, saying nothing to each other, every one of them lost in her own thoughts for a few minutes.
Anya had listened to their words very attentively, and she understood that Alexa had told the truth. It had all started with Maria, but Jessica had not helped the situation. In a sense, Alexa had been a victim of Maria’s jealousy and muddled thinking, and Jessica’s readiness to condemn her. As for Kay, she had allowed her insecurity and sense of inferiority to get the better of her. What a loss of true friendship, she thought, filled with an aching sorrow. Such a waste of those years when they could have given each other moral support, helped in other ways. What a shame they hadn’t been able to communicate better, more explicitly, when they were here at the school.
Alexa broke into her thoughts when she said, “Let’s bury this … garbage! Seven years have passed. We’ve all grown up. We’re healthy, successful, and, yes, we’re truly lucky women. Let’s be … friends again.”
Alexa offered her hand to Maria, who took hold of it and joined her near the fireplace. Jessica then stood up and came over to them. The three women put their arms around each other and looked across at Kay.
“Come on!” Jessica exclaimed, smiling at her. “Make the quartet complete again.”
Kay pushed herself to her feet and rushed into their arms. The four of them stood in a huddle, half laughing, half crying. Then, breaking the circle they made, Jessica said, “We’re missing one … come on, Anya. You belong here with us. For what would we be without you?”
————
ANYA TOOK THEM to Le Grand Véfour for lunch.
The ancient restaurant, dating back to before the French Revolution, was situated beneath the arches of the Palais-Royal, and it was a historic landmark.
Now the five of them sat at one of the best tables, sipping champagne, surrounded by the distinctive decor of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
Red velvet banquettes were balanced by simple, clean-lined Directoire chairs in black and gold and a richly patterned black-and-gold carpet, also in the Directoire style. Scarred antique mirrors in old gold frames were affixed to the ceiling and to some of the walls; on other walls were Neoclassical paintings of nymphs entwined with flowers and vines, set under glass.
“What a fabulous place this is,” Jessica said, her keen eyes taking in every detail of the decor. “I just love the paintings, they look as if they come from ancient Rome.”
“I noticed a brass plaque on one of the banquettes bearing the name of Victor Hugo,” Alexa said. “And another one with Colette’s name. She must have been a regular client too.”
Anya nodded. “A lot of writers came here, and also politicians. Why, even Napoleon used to bring Josephine here to dine.”
“Really,” Kay exclaimed, her ears pricking up. “I hadn’t realized the place was that old.”
“Oh, yes, it dates back to 1784, but at that time it was called the Café de Chartres. Anyway, I must admit, I never tire of its charm and refined elegance,” Anya said. “It’s had a sort of rebirth lately,” she went on. “For many, many years it was owned by the famous chef Raymond Oliver. But he decided to sell it in 1984 because he was getting very old. It went through a transitional period, but under Guy Martin, the new chef, it’s gone back to being one of the top restaurants in Paris. I know you’re going to enjoy your food as much as you’re enjoying the ambiance.”
Glancing at Maria, Anya added, “They make a very nice sole, my dear, so you don’t have to worry about your diet.”
“You’re always so considerate, Anya,” she answered, and took a sip of her mineral water.
Anya now engaged Maria in a conversation about her paintings, and the two became very quickly engrossed.
Kay spoke to Jessica and Alexa about the premises she had found for her boutique, and then she tentatively asked Jessica if she would come and look at them later in the week. “Maybe you’ll be interested in designing the boutique for me,” she explained.
Soon the maître d’ was hovering next to the table, telling them about the specialties of the house, and handing around the menus. After studying them for a while, they all settled for sole except Anya, who had decided to indulge herself. “I’m going to have the pigeon stuffed with foie gras,” she announced with a wide smile. “And no one is going to make me feel guilty.”
It was a warm and happy lunch. All of the women were at ease with each other once again; as Anya studied them from time to time, she realized the quarrel might never have happened. They were as sweet and loving with each other as they had been in their early years at the school. And this please
d her … it was the best birthday gift she could ever have.
Before they knew it, the lunch was over and they were trooping out into the street. Alexa began to chastise Anya, complaining that she should not have signed the bill, that they had wanted to take her to lunch. “It should have been our treat,” she insisted.
“Don’t be silly, darling. It was my pleasure to have you all together again, and so tranquil too. I’m very happy the quarrel is behind us.”
As they waited for Anya’s car and driver, Alexa drew Jessica under the arches at one moment, and said to her quietly, “I need to talk to you about something really important, Jessica. Can you spare me half an hour?”
Jessica looked at her swiftly, then nodded, glanced at her watch. “Let’s find a cab. We can talk on the way to the Bonnal Gallery. I have an appointment there with Alain, about a painting for a client.”
Alexa was staring at her intently.
Jessica frowned. “You remember him, don’t you? He was a friend of Lucien’s.”
“Oh, yes, I remember him,” Alexa answered.
CHAPTER THIRTY
A WEEK LATER, VERY EARLY ON A WARM SATURDAY MORNING, they drove to the Loire Valley.
Tom was at the wheel of his large burgundy-colored Mercedes sedan, with Mark Sylvester sitting next to him in the front. On the backseat were Alexa, Jessica, and Alain Bonnal.
Tom peered ahead as they finally exited the environs of Paris and headed out toward the main motorway that would take them to Orléans.
Although it was balmy weather, the sun was hidden by dark clouds that floated across the horizon; they seemed threatening, hinted of an imminent downpour. Tom hoped it would not rain, wanting a fast run down to his parents’ house near Tours.
Once they arrived there, they planned to freshen up and have breakfast before heading over to Montcresse, the château that was the family home of Jean Beauvais-Cresse. Only Tom, the two women, and Alain would go there; this had been decided over dinner last night, when the five of them had gone to Le Relais-Plaza for a meal. They had agreed that Mark would remain with Tom’s parents. As soon as the meeting with Jean had taken place, the other four would return for lunch and then head back to Paris in mid-afternoon.
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