SYLVIE
10th January 2007
From: sylviepé[email protected]
To: Baseemapé[email protected]
Subject: It’s going to be ok!
Dear Ma
Yes, of course, I understand your concerns but please, be reassured, this is a responsibility I feel I can deal with. If I know anything, Ma, then I do know this: I want to have this child. I know that it will be harder to go it alone but there are many more single mothers in this world than there used to be and, to answer your question about the father, it is quite impossible to contact him since I don’t even know where he lives. There is nothing I can say except that last summer was a strange one for many people. There was a lot going on in the village (for a change) and there were many foreigners here. They make it feel as if the holidays will never end. And then there’s the heat, and it makes people crazy. After all that had happened with the chateau, and Daniel coming and going like that, and then Kate and Stephen hightailing it back to London with no explanation. It meant that those of us who were left here had to rouse ourselves. Me, and Dad, and Coco even, we went out a bit more and we sat for the very end of the summer out in the square, and we talked a bit about all the stuff that had happened and then we met these nice people from Europe – Switzerland, I think – and one of the men was about my age and he was quite nice and shy at the same time and one thing led to another. No, of course, I had no idea that I would be left with child. But Ma, I have never felt so alive. Please try to understand this.
Love,
Sylvie xx
10th January 2007
From: Baseemapé[email protected]
To: sylviepé[email protected]
Subject: Re: It’s going to be ok!
Dear Sylvie
Having a child is a wonderful thing and I would not want you to think that I don’t support you in whatever you choose to do. I think you are brave to go it alone. Things are improving in this country for single mothers. More than anything, though, you live in a wonderful village and have many friends who will always be there to help you.
My main concern, I think, is that your father will become an extra burden to you and that the last thing you will want to be doing is caring for him, while trying to raise a child. I wish that men were better able to care for themselves but they aren’t, and I feel that I must at least offer to take him off your hands. God knows how I am loving my solitude at last in these mountains. The cabin has been repainted and I have hung new curtains. How blissful and quiet and clean it all is. And yet…
But I do understand how motherhood can be for the first time, Sylvie. Perhaps, it would be helpful for me to start thinking about taking some time off work in order to be able to come and stay with you around the time of the birth.
Let me know your thoughts.
xMa
13th February 2007
From: sylviepé[email protected]
To: Baseemapé[email protected]
Subject: Re: It’s going to be ok!
Dear Ma
Thank you for your email. But please don’t worry. There is a plan coming into action here but I need another week or two before I can confirm.
Sylvie xx
20th February 2007
From: sylviepé[email protected]
To: Baseemapé[email protected]
Subject: Re: It’s going to be ok!
Dear Ma
At last I can tell the news, which is that Kate Glover has arrived in the village and has begun her work renovating the chateau.
We had heard rumours that she was set to come back in December but it seemed she was waiting for the weather to improve. Of course, I was waiting for her the day she arrived. Lollo said that I shouldn’t make such a fuss but I wanted to be there in the courtyard to welcome her and I made sure that she had some provisions inside. In the end, she came quite late and she was so tired. It was a shock to see her, to discover the condition she was in – quite frail, she was, and seemingly depressed. I offered to stay for a bit and help her. I told her it was actually quite convenient, in fact, what with Dad and all his smoking going on at mine.
She told me what had happened in very plain and simple terms. How, back in August, when her husband came down for the weekend, they had this terrible row. They were trying to eat a meal in a restaurant. It went from bad to worse. She said she had never seen him like that. He was like a maniac. They were both drunk. He strapped her into the car and locked all the doors. He didn’t drive back to the village. He simply turned for the motorway and drove north.
They got back to England and Kate became depressed. Suddenly she didn’t have the energy for anything, let alone leaving him. It took her six months, she said, to find it in herself to leave again.
But the good news is …She’s here, and she was so excited to see the bump. And she has asked me to think about setting up home here – we both agreed that we’d like the company and there is more than enough space.
I tell you, we got our work cut out! We’ve hired a skip and we’ve been putting all the old odds and ends in there as we go. First of all I found some stuff in the roof and this was a surprise to everyone because the general assumption was that old Arnaud Borja hadn’t kept hold of a thing. Completely empty was what we all thought of the place. And how wrong we were!
I found all manner of things up in the roof. There were two lumpy old mattresses that were thin and good for nothing but the skip. There were books up there, and magazines like from the fifties! Some of them were really hilarious and Kate was quite fascinated when I brought them all down for her to see. We made coffee and went through all the pictures. How we laughed to look at those women with their pointy breasts and swinging skirts, and then we talked about you, and she, and I – all of us – getting on, not wearing things to make us look more feminine just to please men but doing exactly as we pleased when we wanted to and how brilliant and bold we were. We drank to that, Ma, and we put this lovely old red ceramic hen out on the table in the kitchen, with a couple of the olive jars and sugar and salt jars I found up in the roof. Anyway, we’re keeping our matches in the hen for the time being and it’s fun to have a special place for things that we’ve picked together. It does mean such a lot to me, to be setting up house with her. Which may sound weird to you but it isn’t, Ma. It really isn’t. You see, from my experience of Arnaud and Lucie and you and Dad and now my experience of Kate and Stephen, it seems to be that marriage is doomed. How can anything retain its dignity beneath the barrage of bills and worries and regrets and just plain old bad luck that comes and rolls over a marriage day after day?
Well, it’s like the Berlin Wall’s come down or something. Now anyone can come on in and wander round the courtyard. And though they don’t really come in and do anything, it’s still nice for everyone to think that they can. Like old Mr Surte who came in this morning and just walked to the pine tree, turned round and went back again to sit on his bench by the church.
Of course we haven’t done an awful lot. And there was so much cleaning and sweeping that needed to be done at first. You have never SEEN so much DUST!
I have already started work on a nursery and I have painted the shutters in the room right up at the top a lovely pale blue. I just love to sit in that room and look out at the view and run my fingers over the lettering in the wall where you carved your name when you were waiting in there to have Daniel. I feel so completely and deeply at peace in that room, and I think it has been a great comfort for Kate to have me around. It really is an enormous amount of work that she needs to get through with the place and she barely stops working from the minute she wakes up until she goes to sleep at night. You can imagine how slow she’s going to be, climbing on and off ladders while painting. There’s no question she needs me there – not just to clean as she works but also to make a little food to keep us going, to get provisions from the shop and also to provide her with the company and the healing that she needs.
I told her all about trauma and how I believe it creates its own energy field and she seeme
d quite interested in that and so we have been working together on the visualisation techniques they taught me at the burns hospital in Toulouse. You see, I also know that pain is all there is sometimes. But I think, you know, that this is fine. I am here and am able to do all the errands that she needs me to do for her.
Love,
xSylvie
2nd March 2007
From: Baseemapé[email protected]
To: sylviepé[email protected]
Subject:
Dear Sylvie
This morning I received a cheque in the post. It was for 12,000 euros. There was a note with it. From Daniel. The postmark on the envelope was Paris. It said, simply, that he had managed to sell the chateau back in August as I might have heard. He said he was sorry that this amount of money wasn’t what he was hoping to send me but that he’d had to pay off some other stuff and attend to things in Paris. Things were a bit complicated. He said he was going abroad on Monday but that he intended to be in touch when he got back in a few weeks in order to meet up. Maybe, he said, we could meet in Paris. He signed off with just his name, and that was that.
I have decided to give you the money, Sylvie. Tomorrow afternoon I will go down into town as I have some errands to run, and then I will talk to the bank about transferring the money to you. I know that, in time, you will need this money more than I. As for the note, well… I don’t quite know what to make of it. I guess I will keep it though, nonetheless. It was written on a piece of old airmail paper.
Did the bedspread arrive ok? Does it work with the cushions? Is your dad all right?
Ma xx
8th March 2007
From: sylviepé[email protected]
To: Baseemapé[email protected]
Subject: Thanks
Hi Ma
The money has arrived in my account. I don’t know what else to say.
Sylvie
8th March 2007
To: Baseemapé[email protected]
From: sylviepé[email protected]
Subject: Re: Thanks
Dear Sylvie,
Are you ok?
Ma
8th March 2007
From: sylviepé[email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: some money has arrived
Dear Daniel
You sent a cheque to Baseema, which she has now sent to me. I just wanted to say… well, thank you for thinking of us.
xSylvie
9th March 2007
From: sylviepé[email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: hello!
Hi Daniel
It was a bit of a shock to get this news from you. I don’t think we ever expected to hear from you again. Let alone receive any money. How are you doing? This is what I forgot to actually ask you when I emailed you yesterday. Are you ok? That’s all I really wanted to say. We never found out what happened to you. As with before, one minute you were there, and the next you were gone. But I guess you went back to Paris?
xSylvie
12th March 2007
From: sylviepé[email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: hello!
Hi Daniel
It’s nice now in the village. You get the sense that spring is in the air. There’s so much going on here, and we’re all terribly busy with one thing or another. But it would be great to hear from you if you’re not too busy and you get a chance to reply. Your note said that things were complicated…
Hope all’s going well with you. It would be really great to just hear a few words from you.
13th March 2007
From: sylviepé[email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: hello!
Daniel? Can’t you even reply to me? S
29th March 2007
From: sylviepé[email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: important
Dear Daniel
There is something that I feel you should know. Please be in touch with me. It’s important.
xSylvie
29th March 2007
From: sylviepé[email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: important
Dear Daniel
I can’t do this on email. Please be in contact with a number so that I can ring you.
xSylvie
17th April 2007
From: Baseemapé[email protected]
To: sylviepé[email protected]
Subject: Daniel
Dear Sylvie
Just to let you know that I haven’t heard again from Daniel since he was supposed to have returned from his trip abroad. I never thought that things would change since his return to the village in the summer but then one day I found myself thinking that it might be nice to get together with him for Christmas or something. How foolish to be so wanting… much better, I know, to learn to be self-sufficient, which you must do with your child… I always hoped that when he knew the truth about his birth he would want to see me. But I suspect he feels it’s too late for reconciliation.
Did you spend any of the money yet? Don’t let your dad squander all of it. Make sure that you hold enough back for yourself, Sylvie. And do something with it that makes you feel happy.
I think of you and know what it is you are going through and I know how calm it can make you feel to be carrying a child. Keep me posted.
Ma xxx
18th April 2007
From: sylviepé[email protected]
To: Baseemapé[email protected]
Subject: Daniel
I have loved Daniel Borja for almost all of my life, Ma. I know who he is and what he is like. He may have been around the world and seen all kinds of things and he seems, when you talk to him now, like the most easy-going man on earth, but in his heart he’s a flaker. He won’t be tied down because in his heart he doesn’t believe in anything. He’ll never commit himself; he won’t sign up. He doesn’t trust.
I knew that he would simply up and run for the hills. That’s life, Ma. We can’t change.
And sometimes I think how strange it is that everyone – you, me, Frederic, Lucie, Arnaud Borja, even Kate Glover – we have all loved him so much, and we still love him, yet he is like the empty heart at the centre of us all. He is what binds us together. And yet who is he? What does he do for us? Into him we have all thrown so much of ourselves. And then sat in the silence that follows when nothing comes back to us. We shout; he doesn’t echo. He is already gone. He runs and runs and yet he is carried by all of us.
Sylvie x
P.S. Yes, I have spent some of the money. I have bought all that I need for the nursery and I spared no expense. It is like a dream in that room now. A brand-new cot and a brand-new mobile, and beautiful curtains and sheets and a desk of drawers which is handpainted with little white butterflies. Kate is thrilled with it too. Almost all of her rooms are painted white like this. And we keep all the shutters open and all the internal doors shut so that each and every time when you come into a room you are almost blinded.
29th April 2007
From: sylviepé[email protected]
To: Baseemapé[email protected]
Subject: Hi Ma
I’m sorry to hear about Paul Borja having died. Was it cancer? Had he had it for a while?
And thanks for sending Lucie’s journal. I know that Kate is keen to read it, though I did tell her that you found it mostly unreadable. I can’t see what there would be of interest in it, anyway. Didn’t you say that all she did all those years was sit up there in an annexe room above Paul’s flat going on and on about the past?
Ma, what a time it’s been. Aside from the impending birth, there is so much to do in preparation for our first guests in August. Two of the rooms are booked already and the first of the landscape courses has already got five students booked in for the second week in August. Kate and I will take it in turns to go to the classes I expect – though, as you can imagine, there will be a huge amount to do back at the ranch. It’s getting warmer up on the heath in the day now and the light is good, still clea
r. I will remember this for when it comes to the painting class for next year. Kate is really obsessed with it all. For now, though, she is only expected to draw.
(Did I tell you I cut a lovely thick fringe? Should have done it years ago!)
But I’m far too busy for idle chit-chat these days! I’ve set up an office in a corner of the chateau kitchen and brought the PC over. We’ve got a faster internet connection too, which is excellent for our marketing.
We All Ran into the Sunlight Page 21