To Provence, with Love

by T A Williams

  ‘Do you think that’s what Dominique wants?’ Faye was struggling to come to terms with the ramifications of what he had just said. ‘I mean, does she want you to dedicate yourself to them in that way?’

  ‘I don’t know, Faye. It’s not something we’ve ever discussed.’ His voice was gruff, heavy with emotion. ‘The plain fact is that the farm gives her somewhere to live and it gives her, us, an income. If I don’t stay and look after the farm and the two of them, they’ll be in a right pickle. I owe it to Robbie to look after them. He’d have done the same in my place, I know. So, like I say, until she makes other arrangements, I have to be there for them. And that, I’m afraid, is that – to the exclusion of anything or anybody else.’ He let his voice linger on the penultimate word. ‘You do understand, don’t you?’

  Of course she understood. The sensation coursing through her body now was disappointment, bitter disappointment. Her hopes, so recently raised, had just hit a reef and sunk with all hands and that, as he had just said, was that. Mustering all the fortitude she could find in her body, she did her best to sound positive. ‘I understand, Gavin. I do. Just remember, if things change, you’ve got somebody here who likes you a lot. An awful lot, so don’t forget me.’

  ‘How could I forget you?’

  ***

  She refused his offer to accompany her and walked back up to the chateau on her own. She wasn’t in the least bit worried at being alone and she knew the way so well by now. As she walked, she looked up at the starlit sky and reflected on that brief period in Gavin’s arms on the dance floor. She could still remember the feel of his body against hers and his scent, and it had felt so good, unexpectedly good. Now she found herself caught between a sense of euphoria and grim disappointment.

  She spent her time running through everything Gavin had said, trying to work out where that left them. Pretty clearly, for whatever complicated reasons of love, loyalty, and guilt – whether real or imagined – he was concentrating all his attentions upon his sister-in-law and her little girl and he wasn’t going to be diverted from that. Even so, Faye thought to herself, surely this didn’t mean that she and he couldn’t start a relationship anyway. Why couldn’t she start going out with him, even though he was looking after Dominique and Elise?

  But he had been quite unequivocal; he was dedicating himself to them alone. Could it be, she wondered, that this was, in a sense, an excuse? Maybe the truth was that he had loved his wife so very dearly and this was just a smokescreen to hide the fact that, to him, no other woman would ever be her equal. If this was the case, who knew how long his grieving would last? After all, in her father’s case, it had lasted his whole life.

  She felt a sensation of annoyance creep over her, annoyance with herself. Here she was, doing exactly what she had sought to avoid: getting involved with a man, and a handsome man as well. She had been so relaxed, so happy, over the last few months without any emotional complications and now that had all changed. Since her arrival here in Provence, she and Gavin had become good, close friends, but without any intimacy to muddy the waters. And yet, tonight, in the space of ten minutes on the dance floor, her whole attitude towards him had changed, only for her hopes to be dashed again a couple of hours later.

  She was honest enough to accept that her attraction to him had probably been growing for some time, safely hidden in her subconscious, and the episode on the dance floor had just awakened feelings already there, but lying dormant. That might well be true, but as it was, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy to put them back to sleep again.

  She was barely aware of walking in through the gates and up the drive into the courtyard where, to her surprise, she saw the light still on in the kitchen. This drew her out of her reverie and she went across and peeked in the window to see Eddie sitting at the table, looking serious. She tapped on the glass and he came over to let her in, accompanied by a sleepy Marlon who was, as ever, very pleased to see her.

  ‘Hi, Eddie, you’re up late. Is everything all right?’ The dog stood up on his hind legs to extend a warm greeting to her, stretching as he did so. She scratched his ears before returning him to all fours.

  ‘Hi, Faye, I’m fine, thanks. Just couldn’t sleep. How was the dance?’

  ‘The dance was fine.’ If it had been Miss Beech there, Faye felt sure she would have been pressed for more details of just exactly why it only qualified for that feeble adjective, rather than something more glowing, but Eddie just nodded and Faye was grateful. Things with Gavin were complicated, to say the least, and she didn’t feel like even attempting an explanation of where she was with him at the moment. Not least because she didn’t know the answer to that herself.

  Eddie looked across at her. ‘That’s good. Do you know what I’ve been doing this evening? I went up to bed early, but I couldn’t sleep, partly because of the noise coming up from the dance, so I got up again, went down to the cinema, and watched Faded Heart for the twentieth time – or something like that. You’re twenty-eight, aren’t you?’

  ‘Almost twenty-nine.’

  ‘Well, I was just working it out. That movie was made in 1962 and, by my calculations, Anabelle was twenty-eight at the time. It’s quite a coincidence.’

  Faye, too, had already worked this out. ‘All I know is that the dresses she wore in that movie could have been made for me. We were trying some on the other day and they fit like a glove – and some of them are very, very tight-fitting. So that means Miss Beech and I were the exact same size and shape at the same age. That’s the real coincidence.’ Faye glanced at Eddie. ‘That must have been a year or two before you met her.’

  ‘That’s right, two years, and in those two years she went from being a fine, up-and-coming actress, to being Hollywood gold with a lifestyle to match. You should have seen the house. You could get lost in the garden, and the pool was twice the size of what we’ve got here.’

  Eddie pulled himself to his feet and went across to the fridge for a bottle of cold rosé. Ignoring Faye’s – admittedly weak – protests, he filled a couple of glasses and they spent the next hour chatting about everything from Green Card work permits to swimming pool chemicals and then, inevitably, Anabelle Beech. By the time they came onto the subject of Miss Beech, Faye was tipsy enough to be able to risk asking the question she hadn’t dared to ask before.

  ‘Eddie, have you ever told Miss Beech how you feel about her?’

  He looked up and shook his head. ‘Never dreamt of it. Well, maybe in my dreams, but I could never say anything like that to her. Never ever. It could screw up our whole relationship.’

  ‘Or turn it into something wonderful.’

  ‘Or turn it into something wonderful … When you say it like that, Faye, it almost sounds worth taking a chance, but I think it’s best left unsaid. I know how I feel about her and I know that’ll never change. I know she likes me, probably a lot. I don’t need to hear her say anything more than that. We go way back and we know each other as well as, or better than, most married couples. She knows she’s got me and I know I’ve got her. There’s no need for more, honestly.’

  Faye nodded her head. He was probably right. The relationship he already had with Miss Beech was closer than many elderly couples she knew. As for herself, she now knew there was one relationship she would love to see grow to these levels, but that, she knew, was not in her hands. She gave a little internal sigh, glanced down at the dog, who was snoring in his basket with his nose resting on her old, now seriously tattered, woolly hat. A look at her watch told her it was half past one and she knew she should go to bed.

  ‘It’s been lovely talking to you, Eddie. See you in the morning.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  A few days before her father was due to arrive, Faye and Miss Beech were in the study, going through the last of the documents in the cardboard box. The bulk of the manuscript was now almost complete, missing only a concluding chapter or two and, of course, a chapter about Miss Beech’s first year in Hollywood, if she decided to allow
Faye to relate the unhappy events. Faye could see that the old lady had something on her mind this morning and she sat and waited patiently, talking about trivia, until Miss Beech took a deep breath and came to the point.

  ‘Faye, I’ve been thinking about the dedication to go at the start of the book.’ She looked unusually nervous as she picked up a handwritten sheet of paper from her desk and passed it across to Faye. ‘What do you think of this?’

  Faye took it from her and ran her eyes swiftly across the two lines. As she reached the end, she just sat there stupidly, staring at the paper in her hand, completely lost for words.

  ‘What do you think, Faye?’ She looked up to see Miss Beech staring at her, the apprehensive, serious expression still on her face. ‘Do you think that’ll do as a dedication? I thought I’d better write it down as I didn’t think I could say it without bursting into tears.’ Her voice caught and she had to stop.

  ‘I …’ Faye still couldn’t find her voice. She looked down at the paper again and read it through slowly and deliberately, doing her best to take in the implications of what was written there.

  This book is dedicated to my darling granddaughter, Faye, with love and thanks for making my sunset days the best of my life.

  As the significance of what she was reading finally began to sink in, Faye raised her eyes again. Miss Beech was looking very nervous now, biting her lip. After clearing her throat several times, Faye finally found her voice.

  ‘Your granddaughter …? So that means …?’

  Miss Beech nodded. ‘I should have told you sooner, I know. Earlier this year I finally told Eddie about what had happened to me when I first arrived in Hollywood. Apart from my mother, I’d only ever told one other single living soul the full story before, and that was Marcel, my husband until he died five years ago. I didn’t even tell either of my previous two husbands. It was Eddie who convinced me I should try to find out what had happened to my little girl, just for my own peace of mind.’ Her voice almost broke, and Faye could see the emotional strain etched on her face.

  ‘So, you’re saying that my mum was …?’

  Miss Beech nodded, but she had to stop and take a deep breath before answering. ‘Yes, Faye, your mum was my daughter.’ There was another little pause while Miss Beech located a tissue and blew her nose. When she continued, her voice was a bit stronger, but the expression of apprehension hadn’t left her face. ‘In fact, it turned out to be remarkably easy to find out what happened to her. Eddie got a private investigation firm in London on the case and in less than two weeks I had a file from them with copies of her birth certificate, the adoption papers and, alas, her death certificate. I’m afraid I had to get Eddie to read the file to me as my eyes were full of tears. I’m sure you can imagine the emotions it stirred up in me.’

  She paused to wipe her eyes with a tissue. ‘There was even a copy of her wedding photo from the newspaper in Falmouth, where she’d been living with her adopted parents. You’ve probably got the same photo at home. She died when you were three, in 1991, didn’t she? And her name was Margaret, wasn’t it?’

  Faye nodded blankly, still trying to come to terms with what she was hearing. ‘But my mother’s maiden name wasn’t Beech. It was Trelawny.’

  ‘Simple – she took the name of her adopted parents.’

  ‘So … you’re my grandmother?’ Faye could feel herself welling up now as the tears began to trickle down her cheeks. She glanced across at Miss Beech and saw tears on her face as well. Unable to articulate any further, Faye dropped her head into her hands and wept like a little girl, unsure whether these were tears of joy or of grief.

  She was vaguely conscious of a movement and then she felt an arm around her shoulders and a hand against her cheek. She reached up and did her best to wipe her eyes while Miss Beech comforted her. Finally, she managed to get a grip on her emotions and took a few deep breaths, before looking up into the old lady’s face. Miss Beech’s eyes were also red, her cheeks wet.

  ‘I owe you an apology, Faye, for not telling you straightaway. The thing is, I wanted to get to know you as a person first and for you to get to know me. This is such a major moment in my life and a secret I’ve carried with me for over sixty years, I had to be sure that you weren’t going to run off to the tabloids with the story or, even worse, turn round and walk out on me for not having had the courage to get in touch years ago.

  ‘I worked out very quickly just how trustworthy you are, and I would have said something sooner, but I also wanted this book to be written objectively and impartially. If you’d known you were writing about your grandmother, especially as you missed your mother – my daughter – so much growing up, I couldn’t be sure you’d be able to remain analytical. I hope you’ll forgive me for delaying telling you until today.’

  Suddenly, it all began to make sense to Faye. ‘So, that’s why you chose me, of all people, to help write your biography? And that’s why you read my book? I thought it was an amazing coincidence. I remember asking Eddie how come you had chosen me and he said something vague about you knowing lots of important people, but he never let on that he knew who I really was.’

  ‘I swore him to secrecy. Like I say, I wanted to get to know you, and for you to get to know me, without any complications.’ She released her hold on Faye’s shoulders and stepped back. ‘And we have got to know each other very well, haven’t we?’

  Faye sat back and reached for a tissue. ‘Of course we have. I’ve loved being here and I’ve loved hearing the story of your life. You couldn’t have been kinder or have treated me better. In fact, it’s like I said, it’s almost been like having a mother for the first time – two if you add Claudette, who’s been every bit as sweet.’ Faye very nearly broke down again at this point, but wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and carried on. ‘So … the fact that those dresses fitted me so perfectly, that was more than just coincidence? We’re actually related.’

  ‘Faye, when you were telling me how much you missed having a mother growing up, it was all I could do not to burst into tears myself. And then, when you showed me that photo of her on the beach, I so nearly broke down again. It’s awful, truly awful, to lose your mother but, believe me, to lose your child is worse, especially when it was your own decision, whatever the circumstances. When I saw you in that dress, the thought going through my head was just how much I wished I could have shared that sort of moment with my daughter, your mother. There’s so much I could have shared with her, that I never had the chance to do.’

  Miss Beech lapsed into introspective silence for a good while before, finally, drinking what was left of the tea in her cup. She looked across at Faye, a hint of a smile reappearing on her face. ‘But now at least I’ve found you. I told Eddie I was going to speak to you today and he said to give him a shout once I had done so. Would you be kind enough to go to the bottom of the stairs and call him, please?’

  Faye did as she was bidden and, as she did so, the door from the kitchen was nosed open and Marlon appeared, fresh from his morning walk. Faye bent down to give him a big hug, her emotions threatening to well over once more.

  ‘Has she spoken to you, Faye?’ She stood up hastily to find Eddie emerging from the lift. She nodded, seeing him smile back at her.

  ‘Faye, I couldn’t be happier for you, for both of you.’

  This time her emotions won and she felt tears running down her cheeks again. Eddie came across to her, rested his walking stick against one of the suits of armour, and opened his arms, clasping her in a warm hug while she sobbed some more. Finally she regained control and, together, they walked into the study, accompanied by the dog who wasn’t too sure what was going on and kept nudging her leg with his nose, making little whining noises.

  ‘I know we’ve only just had our breakfast, but I think this maybe calls for champagne, don’t you?’ Miss Beech had regained her equilibrium and was smiling happily.

  ‘Let me go and get it. I know where it is.’ Faye was quite glad of the opportunity to slip o
ut of the room and compose herself. Marlon, clearly determined to look after her as she was upset, trotted at her heels. In the lounge, she took a bottle out of the wine cooler and set it, along with three glasses, on a tray. Before going back through to the study, she sat down on the arm of one of the sofas for a few moments, wiped her eyes, and did her best to come to terms with what had just been revealed to her. A cold, wet nose appeared like magic beside her and rested on her knee. She scratched the dog’s ears as she did her best to get her head straight.

  This was the first time she had ever come upon a direct link to anybody on her mother’s side. Ever since she had first met Miss Beech, she had felt an affinity to her and now she was beginning to realize why. In fact, she reflected, even Marlon had taken to her straightaway. Maybe he had some canine sixth sense that had told him she was family.

  She looked down into the big, soulful brown eyes and smiled at him. A large paw landed on her knee, a precursor, she now recognized, to his attempting to climb onto her lap. This time, to his surprise, instead of dissuading him, she let him put his other front paw up, until his elbows were resting on her knees and she sat there for a good minute, hugging the happy dog to her heart. Finally, she set him down again, stood up, blew her nose, and took the champagne through to the study.

  ***

  That afternoon she went for a long walk up over the hilltop. It would soon be the middle of October, but the weather had not yet broken. The sky was a clear, if pale, blue and the sun still warm, although no longer as ferocious as it had been in the summer. Leaves on a few of the stubby trees and bushes were just starting to turn brown, but autumn still hadn’t kicked in properly. As she got to the top of the hill and sat down on her favourite old stone, where the view was clear all the way down the valley, she pulled out her phone and called her father.