by Janey Fraser
‘My attack?’ she repeated, looking down at her bandages.
‘You don’t remember?’ This was the older, harder-faced policeman. ‘You were stabbed.’
Mon Dieu! She would have crossed herself if she’d been able to move her arms. So that explained the nagging dull ache in her stomach!
‘We believe he tried to steal your bag.’
A dim memory of a man who looked like Thierry was beginning to come back. She’d been in London. That was right! Hyde Park with its lovely trees and tranquil air. The only place where she felt at home in this strange country.
‘It would be very helpful if you could take a quick look at these pictures and see if any of them resemble your attacker.’
She glanced down at the sheaf of photos in front of her. Her stomach was really beginning to hurt now and her head ached. ‘Thierry,’ she said weakly, pointing to one picture. ‘It’s so like him,’ she tried to add but the words wouldn’t come out.
‘Thierry?’ demanded one of the policemen. ‘Thierry who?’
Too late. She’d already slipped into a delicious, drowsy, painkiller-fuelled sleep where none of this mattered. None of this at all.
Marie-France had no idea what time it was when she woke to find yet another nurse taking her blood pressure.
‘Morning,’ the woman announced chirpily as though this was some kind of holiday. ‘Can you drink this? Wonderful. You need as many fluids as possible at the moment. Now, are you up to visitors because your family have been waiting to see you for quite some time!’
The nurse’s accent sounded different from Matthew’s and also Jilly’s, so it was hard to understand exactly what was saying. But there was one word Marie-France clearly recognised. Family! That must mean Maman! Marie-France struggled to get more comfortable as her mother tripped in, head held high and red heels clip-clopping across the floor as though she was on a catwalk. ‘Ma chérie, how are you?’
Marie-France felt a chill pass through her as she saw the others behind. ‘Why are they here?’ she demanded, pointing at Jeremy, Angela and Jilly.
‘I knew we should have let you have some time together,’ said Jilly quickly.
‘No, Madame Jilly. You are my friend. But not them.’
‘I’m sorry, dear.’ Angela’s voice was soft and kind. ‘But we couldn’t stay away.’ She took Marie-France’s hand. ‘Not when we’d only just found you again. I’m so glad you’re all right. We all are. You lost quite a lot of blood, you know.’
Merde!
‘She said “blood”, chérie.’
Hah! Struggling to get a better position on her pillows, Marie-France jerked her head at Jeremy. ‘So now you’re going to tell me that he was the only one whose blood matched mine and that, hey presto, he is my father. Welcome to fatherhood, dear Daddy, after eighteen years!’
Her mother gave a short shrill laugh. ‘Don’t be silly, dear. That sort of thing only happens in films or books.’
Angela made a funny little noise. ‘I wish it had.’ She took out a handkerchief from her bag and blew her nose. ‘I’ve got to be honest, Mary-France. After my son Adam died, I really did hope you were his. Unlike Sheila, I asked for pictures of you as you grew up. Treasured them, I did, putting them in a special album. That’s why I fell out so badly with Jilly and Jeremy’s mother. She didn’t want to know anything about you; not even if you were a boy or a girl.’
Jeremy shrugged apologetically. ‘If Mum doesn’t want to be troubled by something, she just blanks it out and pretends it never happened.’
‘So I’d like to think, dear, that I could help you out now your mother isn’t well—’
‘What?’ Marie-France stiffened. ‘Maman? You are ill?’
Her mother glowered at Angela before making a dismissive wave in the air. ‘It is not important, chérie.’
Really? Marie-France studied her mother sharply. She’d always been a bit of a drama queen, announcing she felt ‘like death’ when really she was just exhausted after work. Yet this time, Marie-France sensed she was underplaying something for a change. It was all making sense now! The thick red hair she could see, at close quarters, might well be a wig. The weight gain was possibly due to drugs. And her bosom, which she’d been so proud of in the past, just didn’t look the same.
‘Not cancer?’ she whispered.
Her mother nodded tightly.
‘Mon Dieu.’ She leaned back on the pillow.
‘It’s all right.’ Jeremy’s smooth voice cut in. ‘It’s natural to be scared at times like this. But your mother is going on a new treatment when she gets back, isn’t that right, Collette?’
‘Absolument. We have to be positive.’
This was even worse. Her mother was usually so histrionic! She’d have expected her to burst into tears by now. This calm, mature woman scared her.
‘They can do so much now in medicine,’ continued Jeremy. ‘And—’
‘Go away!’ Marie-France tried to shout but it came out as a hiss instead. ‘How dare you try and comfort us? We don’t know you. You’re nothing to us. At least Angela here cared from the beginning.’
Jeremy’s voice was laced with hurt but there was indignation too. ‘I would have done if I had known.’
‘I know that’s true,’ began Jilly.
‘Go away!’ Marie-France pressed the Call button. ‘I want you to go. Not you, Maman. I need you to stay.’ She tried to hug her mother but the damn machine at her side was in the way. ‘It’s all right. I promise. I will look after you now. I’ll come straight home. I should never have come to this stupid country in the first place.’
‘Hush, chérie.’ This time it was her mother comforting her, the way she had done as a child. ‘It is all right. I did not want to worry you. That is why I swore Thierry to secrecy.’
I cannot tell you, Marie-France. Not yet. I made a promise.
She’d assumed he knew something about her father when all the time it was something much more important. Her mother’s health.
‘We will leave as soon as we can,’ whispered her mother, kissing her forehead. ‘And then everything will be back to normal. I promise.’
Marie-France was doing well, the doctor said, repeating the nurse’s words that she had been ‘very lucky’. She could be discharged in three days or maybe even two.
‘Isn’t that great?’ demanded another nurse whom she’d never seen before. The turnover was astonishing yet each one spoke as though they’d known her for ever. ‘You’re quite a heroine. Have you seen the papers, by the way? No? I’ll bring one in for you after your visitors. You do want to see them, don’t you? She’s the cutest little thing I’ve ever seen.’
‘Marie-France!’
Her heart soared as a small girl with blond plaits skidded across the ward towards her, closely followed by Matthew. She screeched to a halt and was about to take a leap on to the bed before her father stopped her. ‘We were so worried about you!’ She tossed her plaits back over her shoulder. ‘Daddy said you might have died! How far did you get? Did you see my mummy?’
Mon Dieu! She looked up at Matthew who was shaking his head.
‘Lottie,’ he began, ‘I told you. Marie-France is very tired. She can’t cope with all these questions.’
‘No. It’s all right.’ An idea had just come to her. ‘Actually, Lottie, I did see your mother.’
Matthew visibly stiffened, sending her a ‘What-do-you-think-you’re-saying?’ look.
‘She said that she loves you very much,’ went on Marie-France quickly. ‘And she told me that she can see everything you do from where she is.’
Lottie’s eyes widened. ‘She can?’
‘Mais bien sûr. She spotted you when you put salt in the sugar bowl when I arrived. But it’s OK. She thought that was quite funny.’
Lottie giggled.
‘She didn’t think it was so funny when you stole some of Daddy’s money and pretended that the other au pair had taken it.’
The little girl’s face dropped. ‘I
promise not to do that again.’
‘Mummy likes it when you do your spelling homework and your maths too.’
Lottie nodded solemnly.
‘And she knows about the tooth fairy!’
Lottie blushed. ‘Really.’
Matthew raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m not with you on this one.’
Marie-France tried to smile but it hurt too much. ‘It doesn’t matter. But your wife also had a message for you.’
He gave her a quizzical look. ‘Is that so?’
‘Absolument! I was hoovering between life and death, you know.’
He gave a small smile. ‘I think you mean “hover”.’
Whatever. ‘Your wife says you must start a new life.’
Matthew’s face took on a sceptical look. ‘I see.’
‘Just one more thing.’ Marie-France reached across for Lottie’s little hand. ‘Mummy doesn’t want you to be sad any more. She says that although she can see you, you won’t be able to see her for a very long time. So she just wants you to get on with your life too and be happy with Daddy.’
Lottie raised her head up to the ceiling. ‘OK, Mummy,’ she called out. ‘I will.’ She turned to Matthew. ‘Can we have a pizza now? I’m starving.’
Marie-France felt exhausted after their visit. Had she done the right thing? ‘I hope you approve, Sally,’ she murmured. For pity’s sake, what was she doing talking to a dead woman whom she didn’t even know? She needed to pull herself together before her mother came to visit again this afternoon.
But first she had to make a phone call. The person at the other end was surprised to hear what she suggested. Possibly a little nervous too. But, as she explained, they might as well get it over and done with. After all, she was in the right place, wasn’t she?
‘Lunchtime, dear!’
Ugh. The food in this place was disgusting. Still, there was some post on the tray and a newspaper.
Curiously, Marie France opened the pink envelope. A Get Well card from Sheila? Wonders would never cease. But if she thought that was going to make up for everything, she was mistaken.
Flinging it on to her bedside table, she turned to the newspaper, which wasn’t the same as the one which Matthew took. But as she leaned back against the cosy hospital pillows and took in the headline on the front page, every nerve in her body stiffened. Qu’est-ce que c’est que ça?
HYDE PARK SUSPECT ARRESTED
Following the shocking attack on French au pair Marie-France Dubonne last Saturday, a man has been arrested. He is thought to be a former boyfriend of the victim, with whom she had a recent disagreement. Several witnesses have come forward, including 18-year-old Antoinette Malfille who helped to identify the suspect.
‘No,’ yelled out Marie-France with a scream that sent an auxiliary nurse rushing to her bed. ‘No. This is not true. Ce n’est pas vrais!’
JILLY’S AU PAIR AGENCY: GUIDELINES FOR AU PAIRS AND FAMILIES
Sometimes a family has to accept that their au pair is not right for them. And vice versa …
Chapter 40
WHAT A MESS! Matthew surveyed the pile of dishes left over from breakfast and the day before that. Upstairs, his own bed hadn’t been made for days and Lottie’s room was in a state too.
‘We need to tidy up,’ Lottie said solemnly, putting on a pair of the fur-trimmed washing-up gloves that Berenice had left behind. ‘Mummy wouldn’t like it. Remember what Marie-France said. She wants us to carry on life as normal.’
Matthew tried to smile. Carry on life as normal? He hadn’t told Lottie about being ‘let go’, as James had put it. He’d merely told his daughter that he’d put the house on the market and when they sold, they’d move to ‘somewhere by the sea’. He’d always rather liked that idea.
But it wasn’t going to be easy. And although it was, of course, right that Marie-France should go back to France with her mother to recuperate, where did that leave them? Finding another au pair? Asking more favours from Paula?
The only person who had really helped was Christina but he could hardly ring her up. Not now. It had been great – really great – bumping into her like that in the pizza place but after that phone call from the police, telling him that Marie-France’s mobile had been found, he’d been so shocked that he couldn’t even remember saying goodbye. In fact, he seemed to recall, he’d just rushed out, dragging Lottie with him. She must think he was mad or at the least very rude.
‘Daddy! The doorbell! I’ll go!’
Lottie was there before he could stop her. On the doorstep stood a middle-aged couple with a young woman whom he vaguely recognised.
‘Yes?’
He didn’t mean to sound abrupt but really he could have done without this.
‘Mr Evans.’ The young woman was smiling brightly. ‘Sorry we’re a few minutes late. This is Mr and Mrs Woodbury.’
‘Late?’ he repeated. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t understand.’
The girl’s smile dimmed slightly. ‘Your three o’clock appointment, Mr Evans. I spoke to someone here yesterday who said it was fine.’
Lottie! ‘I’m sorry. That was my daughter. She’s only eight, well nearly nine actually, but I know she can sound grown up.’ Wildly he looked around at the chaos. This was the very first viewer the estate agency had brought round. What would they think?
‘Could you just give me a minute to clear up?’
The man frowned. ‘We’re on a tight schedule, I’m afraid.’
‘We don’t mind if it’s a bit untidy. Honestly,’ trilled the woman.
A bit untidy?
With a sinking heart, Matthew allowed them in, watching their faces as they moved swiftly from one messy room to another. When they got to his room, he put his hand across the door. He simply couldn’t bear them to see his own unmade bed.
‘This is my room next door,’ trilled Lottie.
The man gave her a sharp look. ‘Shouldn’t you be at school?’
‘I’ve got time off! We’ve been visiting our oh pear in hospital. She got stabbed but she’s getting better now.’
Mrs Woodbury clutched her husband’s arm. ‘I think we’d better go, dear.’
‘She didn’t get stabbed here, if that helps,’ called out Matthew, but they had gone, followed by the estate-agent girl with her smooth smile, saying she’d be in touch.
‘You didn’t tell me they were coming,’ he said to his daughter as soon as the door had shut.
She shrugged. ‘I forgot. Daddy, do we have to move?’
So that was it! She hadn’t told him on purpose!
‘I’ve changed my mind, Daddy. I like it here. I’ve got my friends and I don’t want to leave my school.’
He knelt down beside her. ‘Look, Lottie, I’m sorry but I can’t afford to pay for this house any more. It’s too expensive.’
‘But that’s why you go to work! To earn money.’
He took a deep breath. ‘I’m not going back to work now, Lottie. Not for a bit anyway. I’m going to spend some time with you so we don’t have to have another au pair.’
She made a face. ‘But I like Marie-France. I want her to come back.’
‘She can’t. You know that.’ Damn. Was that the doorbell again? Maybe the estate-agent girl had forgotten something.
‘Hello? Oh. Hi.’
It was the nosy neighbour who was always peering through her curtains. The one whose name he didn’t even know. Now they were close up, he could see that she was slightly younger than he’d thought; rather jolly-looking and possibly in her mid-fifties.
‘My name’s Margaret.’ Her handshake was warm and plump. ‘Margaret Cross. We haven’t met before so I hope you don’t mind me turning up like this. It’s just that I read about your poor French au pair in the paper and I wanted to say that if you ever need someone to babysit, I’d be very happy to help out.’
She held out a plate of chocolate cup cakes. ‘And I thought you might like these. They’re left over from when my grandchildren came to stay from the States.’
Her face fell. ‘They’ve gone back now.’
So she was lonely! No wonder she spent so much time looking out of the window. ‘Thank you,’ said Matthew, stunned. ‘That’s very kind.’
‘Heard the news?’ asked Paula when he dropped off William after school the following week. Now he was at home all day – bored stiff if he was to tell the truth – he was able to do his bit with the school run. ‘The police questioned Marie-France’s boyfriend by mistake! Nice boy, apparently, called Thierry. She mistakenly identified him from a picture when she was still woozy from the anaesthetic and they charged right in because Dawn had told them that her husband had declared Thierry to be ‘rather aggressive’ with ‘blazing eyes’ when he’d turned up at her place during the summer. I’m ashamed to say that my Antoinette added her pennyworth too, out of spite apparently.’ She made a face. ‘Terrible, isn’t it?’
‘So now they haven’t got a suspect?’
‘Oh yes. They have, thanks to Marie-France clonking him on the head with a bottle. That helped to pin him down. Spitting image of the French boyfriend apparently, but he’s English. They’ve arrested him and – get this! – the paper says they’re questioning him about other murders including your Bulgarian girl.’ She shivered. ‘Horrible, isn’t it, when it’s so close to home!’
Suddenly Matthew felt very sick. Even if they did find the right man, it wouldn’t bring Sozzy back. He might not have known her very well or even liked her but it was weird to think he was one of the last people she’d seen before her death.
‘Don’t be sad, Daddy.’ Lottie patted his back as he got back into the car to take them home. ‘Remember what Mummy told Marie-France about being happy? Now, what’s for supper? I’m starving!’
Again! Where did his skinny little girl put it all? And weren’t kids amazing at being able to switch from really heavy stuff like death to something trivial?
If only adults could be the same.
Of course he didn’t expect to find Christina there. What kind of parent got a takeaway pizza every night? But at the moment, it was the only thing that Lottie would eat. That and scrambled eggs with cheese which she’d suddenly developed a craving for.