by Susan Lewis
As she drove towards the village she had no clear idea of where she was going to go, or how long she would be, but it hardly mattered. All that did was that she should stop listening to the madness inside her that was telling her she couldn’t give him up, because it wasn’t true. He’d never been hers in the first place, nor would he ever be, so she must make herself understand that somehow she’d allowed her feelings to run out of control, and now, for her own sake, as well as everyone else’s, she had to get a grip.
In the end she pulled into a lay-by somewhere close to Macon and turned off the engine. She was reminding herself now of why she’d come to Valennes in the first place, which was to follow her instincts about Natalie. Just please God don’t let the truth of what had happened make things any worse than they already were. It was simply her mother hiding a lover. No-one had done anything to Natalie, she knew that already. So it was all just a terrible accident . . . But why would her mother lie? Why? Why? Why?
Putting her hands to her head she pressed them in hard, as though to stop her mind going round and round. She must make herself think of something else, something less painful that would not wring her heart and conscience. Almost immediately her thoughts went to Nikki and Harry, but they provided no release. Picturing their faces brought such a deluge of love into her heart that she felt utterly wretched for not being in London now, when Harry was on his way back from Devon, and Nikki was packing for Norfolk. She should be there to sweep her boy into her arms as he bowled in through the door, and to tell Nikki that she could borrow whatever clothes and make-up she needed. Why hadn’t she thought about this sooner? She could have flown back for the weekend to be with them, then returned with Harry on Monday. The answer, of course, was that she’d been too distracted by other things, things that shouldn’t matter, and didn’t, but dear God they felt as though they did, and right now she didn’t know how she was ever going to make them stop.
It was past one o’clock when she returned to the cottage. She knew it would have been naive to hope she might return feeling less confusion, but at least she seemed calmer inside than when she’d left. She looked around, but there was no sign of anyone. Everything was perfectly still and hot and as beautifully benign as it had ever been.
Once inside she checked her phone, knowing there would be no message from Luc, but unable to stop herself hoping anyway. When there wasn’t the disappointment was terrible, so in an effort to get past it and focus her mind on where it should be, she rang Charlie.
‘Hi, is Harry back yet?’ she said when he answered.
‘Apparently they’re just past Reading, so not long now.’
‘You must be looking forward to seeing him. I know I am.’
‘Of course. It’s been pretty quiet around here without him. Without you both.’
She smiled and felt her heart fill with affection. ‘I miss you too,’ she said. ‘I’ll be glad when Wednesday’s here.’
‘Will you pick me up at the airport?’ Then before she had a chance to reply he put a hand over the receiver and shouted, ‘Yes, I’m speaking to her now. Nikki’s been trying to get hold of you,’ he told her. ‘I think she wants to raid your wardrobe. Correction, I think she’s already doing it, and is getting herself worked up because you’ve taken things with you that she wants to take with her.’
Jessica had to laugh. ‘I’ll talk to her in a minute,’ she said. ‘Have you managed to get hold of Maurice or my mother yet?’
The brief pause before he answered was enough to tell her the question had annoyed him. ‘I haven’t had a lot of time,’ he said, ‘but I’ll try later.’
‘Why don’t you give me the number, and I’ll try?’
‘You can have it, but what are you going to do? Yell at her down the phone again? It’s never got you anywhere yet.’
Sighing, she said, ‘No, you’re right, it hasn’t. I just need to know . . .’
‘Darling, I’m aware of what you want to know, so I’ll try to find out. OK?’
‘OK. I just wish you weren’t being so hostile about it. I mean, you surely want to know too.’
‘Of course, but I’ve got other things on my mind right now.’
‘More important than Natalie?’
‘Don’t be absurd. It’s not a contest. It’s simply that life goes on. For you too, if you’d let it.’
Feeling her throat tightening, she said, ‘I’m not in the mood to fight, so let’s leave it there. Just promise me you’ll try to call them later, and if you can’t get anything out of my mother, you’ll at least arrange to see Maurice before Tuesday.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ he assured her. ‘Now, do you want to talk to Nikki?’
‘Yes.’
As she waited Jessica found herself staring down at the copy of Suite Française Luc had given her, and began idly turning the pages. There hadn’t been a happy end for Lucile and her German, she was thinking, nor for Modi and Jeanne. It made her realise that there was never a happy end to anything, because the only real end was death . . .
‘Are you still there?’ Charlie said. ‘She’s on the phone to Sophie, or Camilla or whoever the heck it is, then she has to go and meet Freddy, so she’ll call you later.’
‘OK. She’s all right about me not being there, is she?’
‘She seems to be. I’m sure she’ll let you know if she’s not.’
Sure of it too, Jessica told him she loved him and rang off. Then, feeling weighted by tiredness, she took herself upstairs to lie down on the bed Natalie had used.
As she inhaled the scent of fresh sheets and dried lavender flowers she turned her face to the pillow, wanting to hug everything to her, squeeze it and love it, as though it were Natalie herself. She thought of the dream last night, and then of Harry, and felt tears burning her eyes. She could hardly wait to see him. Her son, her boy, the most precious little soul in the world, who was arriving on Monday. When he came she would give him the time of his life, spend as many hours with him as he wanted, and be as close to him as she’d ever been.
She was sobbing almost without realising it. She longed for her precious girl so much that she just couldn’t bear it. Her silky hair, her little white teeth, her impish eyes and those lovely gangly limbs that wrapped themselves around her mother as though they might never let go. Why did God have to take her away? Why couldn’t she have fallen and been injured, instead of having to die? It just didn’t seem right. She’d been so full of life, and had so much to look forward to.
‘Oh Natalie, my darling,’ she choked. ‘Where are you now? Are you here? Can you see me?’ She turned onto her back and looked up at the beams overhead, knowing she should try to sleep, but feeling almost afraid to, because all the pain and heartache would only be waiting when she woke up.
Hearing her mobile ringing in the kitchen below, she pulled herself up from the bed and went down to answer it. It was Nikki, full of excitement about her approaching holiday, and determined to spare Jessica no detail of all she had planned, particularly for her eighteenth. Jessica knew Charlie was going to give her a cheque so she could afford a party – then suddenly wanting to be there to share it, she started to cry.
‘I’m sorry, darling,’ she said, trying to pull herself together. ‘I shouldn’t get emotional like this. It’s just that I miss you and I feel Dad and I should be throwing a party for you.’
‘But I’m really cool with it being like this,’ Nikki assured her. ‘Freddy’s going to be there and all our friends, so you don’t have to be upset. We can go out for dinner when you come back. It’ll be much more your thing than having all us lot traipsing through the house.’
‘Are you sure you don’t mind? It seems so wrong to me . . .’
‘Hello! I just told you, Freddy’s going to be there, and as much as I love you guys, he’s the one I really want to be with. Can you understand that without being hurt?’
Jessica smiled. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘I’ll call you on the day, obviously,
’ Nikki assured her. ‘Well, I’ll call you every day, the way I always do. And Dad’ll be with you by then, so you can drink a glass of champagne together and try to get over being the parents of an eighteen-year-old daughter.’
Though Jessica laughed, the reality of Nikki’s age was more sobering than she cared to admit. It was a sign of how time was passing, carrying her along at a speed she really didn’t want to go, taking her away from Natalie, and the dreams that hadn’t come true, with no chance now of ever realising them.
‘You’re not still crying, are you?’ Nikki demanded.
‘No.’
‘Good, because I have to go. I wanted to be here when Harry got back, but I’ll have to see him later. Oh God, look at the time. Love you, Mum. Love you, love you.’
‘Love you too,’ Jessica said, and found herself swallowing another lump in her throat as she rang off.
She was much too emotional today, far too close to the edge, so she must at least try to get some sleep. However, she got no further than the foot of the stairs before her phone rang again.
This time it was Lilian, sounding happy, breezy and full of laughter. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t rung all morning,’ she said, ‘but I don’t expect you have much of a problem guessing why. Anyway, I’ve just spoken to Daniella and she’s invited us over there for lunch on Sunday, so I’ll bring the jewellery and the two of you can take your pick. And you’ll be here for the party tonight, of course. Fernand’s invited the Schmidts who are staying in the other cottage, and the whole family, naturally, and there’s another couple due to arrive from Brittany later today. If they get here in time, they’ll be included too.’
Jessica desperately wanted to say she couldn’t make it, but how could she when a part of the reason she’d come was to spend time with Lilian? Besides, what excuse could she give that wouldn’t worry Lilian, and that the others wouldn’t see straight through? So all she could say was, ‘Yes, of course I’ll be there.’
Lilian sounded delighted, then regretful as she said, ‘I was hoping we could get together this afternoon, but Luc’s about to take me to the studio to see my sculpture, then we’re going into town to pick up a few things Fernand needs for tonight. Actually, there’s no reason you can’t come with us, if you’d like to.’
‘No, it’s fine,’ Jessica responded, probably far too quickly. ‘I have a few things to do before Harry arrives.’
‘OK, but we’ll be around for another hour if you change your mind. Otherwise, Fernand wants everyone here about seven.’
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Jessica replied. As she put the phone down she found herself so close to tears again that this time she turned off her mobile, before going upstairs in the hope that she’d finally manage to fall asleep. If she didn’t, she really couldn’t see how she’d be able to cope with this evening.
Lilian’s gentle blue eyes were bright with excitement as she watched Luc breaking open the wooden crate containing her bronze. All around them his other works were covered by white sheets to keep off the dust, apart from the one of Jessica, which Lilian had insisted on seeing, and was now sitting on a workbench nearby.
The initial impact of Jessica’s likeness had almost made Lilian gasp, for it was clear that Luc had captured an inner radiance in her that even Lilian wasn’t sure she’d seen before. However, now the shock had worn off, she was feeling only pride in her husband’s talent, in place of the moment’s jealousy she’d experienced of such exceptional beauty. Jessica always had been the more attractive of the two of them, so there was nothing new there, it was probably just the fact that Luc must have noticed it that had unsettled her.
‘I can hardly wait for Charlie to see it,’ she commented, looking at Jessica’s sculpture again. ‘She looks so lovely I think he’s going to fall in love with her all over again.’
Luc’s eyebrows rose. ‘Actually, I’ve arranged to send it to the mould-maker on Wednesday,’ he said, letting the crate panels drop to the floor, ‘so it’ll be gone before he gets here. I guess I could always delay it, though.’
Lilian gave it some thought. ‘You know, maybe it’s better for him to see it in bronze first. That would be really special, particularly if we can get it back in time for his birthday.’
‘Which is when?’
‘At the end of September.’
‘It shouldn’t be a problem.’ Plunging his hands into the polystyrene pieces, he made sure she was looking, then said, ‘OK, are you ready?’
Her eyes shining again, she watched him starting to lift the bronze from its packing.
‘Et voilà,’ he declared, pulling it free and placing it on a stand.
Small flecks of white foam still remained on the sculpture, but even before he brushed them away she could feel her heart sinking. It wasn’t that it was bad – on the contrary, it was outstanding if one were only judging the likeness and skill – but there was no doubt that beside Jessica’s exquisite features her own seemed almost lifeless and plain.
‘You don’t like it?’ he said.
‘No, I do,’ she assured him quickly. ‘I love it. It’s just a bit of a shock, I suppose, seeing myself so immobile, cast in one expression that doesn’t . . . Well, it doesn’t seem an especially happy one, which I don’t think I noticed when it was in clay.’
Putting an arm around her, he said, ‘If you remember, you’d just lost a baby when we did this.’
Feeling her heart turn over, she leaned into him, and felt the strength of him wrapping itself around her.
‘We can do another,’ he told her, tilting her face up to his. ‘If you don’t like this one . . .’
‘No, I do, but . . .’ She hesitated, really not wanting to offend him. ‘I would like to do another,’ she said. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Why would I mind? At least it’ll keep you in the same room as me for a day.’
‘Oh don’t,’ she groaned, ‘you know I want to be with you all the time, but . . .’
Interrupting her with a kiss, he said, ‘It’s not a complaint. It’s just a way of letting you know that I’m glad you’re back.’
Her eyes narrowed playfully. ‘Are you sure?’ she said. ‘You looked so shocked when I walked in last night . . .’
‘Maybe because I was,’ he said, with no little irony.
Laughing, she looked at her sculpture again, then with a sultry gleam in her eyes, she said, ‘I wonder if the next one should be a nude.’
‘There’s no reason why not,’ he said, appearing to like the idea.
‘And who knows,’ she continued, looking up at him, ‘I might be pregnant by then. Wouldn’t that be wonderful, to have a sculpture of me carrying your child?’
‘Yes,’ he whispered, gazing into her face. ‘Yes it would,’ and pulling her against him he let his eyes rest briefly on the sculpture of Jessica before they moved back to the one of his wife, and then to his wife herself as he started to kiss her.
By the time Jessica walked up through the vineyard for dinner that evening she was feeling much more together than she had earlier, mainly thanks to having slept for most of the afternoon. Nevertheless, it was impossible not to feel nervous about seeing Luc, and concerned in case Lilian sensed she wasn’t quite herself. However, she could always put that down to another difficult call with Charlie, who, only ten minutes ago, had told her to stop nagging him about getting in touch with her mother – he’d tried again, there was still no reply, but as soon as there was he’d let her know. If ever there was a stuck record, that had to be it.
Now, as she approached the manoir, wearing a cream silk dress that showed the slender outline of her figure, and revealed the whole of her back, she could hear the hypnotic voice of Mirella Freni singing Desdemona in Otello floating from inside, while the vibrant colours of the flowers seemed to be seeping into the air. Everyone was already gathered under the nearside of the pergola sipping crémant and helping themselves to a succulent assortment of canapés, and she felt sure, as she greeted them, that her lingering tension did
n’t show.
Smiling and teasing Fernand, who was looking very dapper in a pair of loud red braces and a black bow tie, she was just taking a sip of her champagne when she spotted Luc at the far end of the terrace, talking to Claude. The jolt in her heart was so harsh that she felt the smile falter on her lips, but since he hadn’t seen her she turned quickly away, not wanting their eyes to meet for fear of what might pass between them. Then Lilian was coming towards her, smiling with affection and holding out her hands.
‘Where did you get that dress?’ Lilian demanded, kissing her on both cheeks. ‘It’s heavenly. Doesn’t she look gorgeous?’ she said to Daniella, who was just coming out of the kitchen.
‘Absolutely beautiful,’ Daniella agreed, handing a tray of hors d’oeuvres to one of the helpers.
‘And have you seen her sculpture?’ Lilian asked. ‘It’s so lovely I swear it takes your breath away.’
Jessica only smiled, more embarrassed by the compliments than pleased, particularly with Daniella there – then she noticed Luc was coming towards them and fought the urge to excuse herself. It would be ludicrous to start trying to avoid him, even though she had no idea how natural she could be.
‘In fact I told Luc,’ Lilian was saying to Daniella, ‘that once Charlie sees it he’ll probably fall in love with her all over again.’
Knowing Luc was listening now, and feeling terrible that Lilian was on the outside when the rest of them knew, Jessica attempted a change of subject as she said, ‘Lily, tell us about your sculpture. What’s it like, and when do we get to see it?’
Lilian pulled a face, and tilted her head back briefly as she felt Luc come up behind her. ‘I have to admit I wasn’t thrilled,’ she replied, ‘but we’ve already decided to do another, haven’t we darling?’
Jessica’s eyes remained on Lilian as Luc said, ‘Indeed we have. I’m afraid my wife is my harshest critic.’
‘Don’t say that,’ Lilian laughed, leaning in to him. ‘There’s nothing wrong with your skill, it’s my expression I don’t like, but there was a reason for it which we don’t need to go into. The important thing is, I have my own personal artist who can create me another.’