Heaven Scent

by Sasha Wagstaff

  Guy nodded, biting his lip as tears threatened to fall. Thinking about Elizabeth again and how much he had loved her, he was almost undone. He felt so guilty about his children too, so thoroughly ashamed.

  ‘You should know that we . . . my family . . . are all back together,’ Elena went on. ‘It’s taken some time and I know you think they won’t forgive you but they will. Trust me, in my experience, almost anything that’s broken can be mended and put back together. You’d be surprised.’

  Deeply affected by her honesty and courage, Guy stared down into his empty coffee cup. Forcing himself, he started to talk again in a halting whisper, lifting his eyes as he recounted his life After Elizabeth, the capital letters very much in evidence as he said it out loud. Continuing with brutal frankness, Guy began to realise that owning up to what he was feeling was half the battle. And frankly, he thought, if Elena could do it after what she had been through, then so could he.

  It was early evening, an hour before they were due to leave. Seraphina found Cat listlessly staring out across the lavender fields.

  ‘I just had a text from my friend Bella,’ Cat said, sounding flat.

  Seraphina frowned. ‘And?’

  ‘And I think she might be moving to Australia with her boyfriend Ben.’

  ‘Sounds like fun.’

  Cat nodded. ‘I’m going to miss her, that’s all. I haven’t seen her for ages and now she’s leaving.’ Her voice caught in her throat.

  Seraphina gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Are you all packed and ready for Paris?’ Dressed in a pretty pink strapless dress and heels, Seraphina seemed strangely fidgety and Cat glanced at her, suddenly noticing how smart she looked.

  ‘Paris?’ She shrugged, glancing back at the view. Apart from a slight breeze, it was a perfect day – weather-wise, at any rate. It was sunny, warm and the air was dry and still. She wanted to remember La Fleurie this way forever when she’d left . . . drenched in July sunshine, the lavender fields were a dazzling display of violet, purple and lilac. Cat swallowed and spoke again. ‘I’ve always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower. I know it sounds touristy but it’s one of those things you want to do before you die, isn’t it? Well, it is for me, anyway.’

  Deep down, Cat was absolutely gutted. She’d always wanted to go to Paris but not like this. The trouble was, she couldn’t think of a valid reason to back out. Saying she felt the whole experience would be too hurtful wasn’t going to cut it. Not unless she admitted how she felt about Xavier, and that wasn’t going to happen.

  ‘The Eiffel Tower is all right.’ Seraphina wrinkled her nose. ‘Personally, I think it’s a bit phallic.’

  Not in the mood for jokes, Cat didn’t laugh. ‘It’s just one of those iconic, romantic places you see in movies and want to see close up.’

  ‘So why aren’t you doing a jig, then?’ Seraphina frowned at Cat’s outfit. She wasn’t sure cut-off trousers and a vest top were appropriate attire for what they were about to do.

  ‘Well, I’m pleased for Leoni, she’s been dreaming about this shop for years. And Xavier . . . the new fragrance will be a triumph, I’m sure.’

  ‘You’ll be around to see it, won’t you? After Paris, I mean?’ Seraphina was confused. ‘You’re coming back to La Fleurie – you must be.’

  Cat shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. What’s here for me now? I need to go back home and stop outstaying my welcome.’ Unconsciously echoing Angelique’s words, Cat felt no bitterness about it; she just felt sad. Inexplicably, painfully sad.

  Seraphina spun her round. ‘Er, me, Max, Father, Leoni. And, most importantly, Xavier. You must know how he feels about you!’

  ‘Apparently, he thinks I’m an idiot for dashing after Max the way I did,’ Cat responded crabbily. ‘Foolish, I think the word was.’

  ‘Really? He said that?’ Seraphina’s brown eyes were puzzled. ‘I can’t believe he would have said such a thing. Who told you that? Did Xavier tell you?’

  Cat couldn’t be bothered to explain that it was Angelique. She stared out at the gorgeous view she wouldn’t be seeing ever again after they left for Paris.

  ‘You do know Xavier hasn’t been on a horse since our mother died?’ Seraphina announced, knowing she had to do something drastic to change Cat’s mind about leaving. Cat slowly turned to face Seraphina, her aquamarine eyes lighting up just a fraction.

  ‘That’s right,’ Seraphina continued emphatically. ‘He swore blind he’d never get on a horse’s back again after our mother’s death but as soon as he heard you were in danger, he tore down to the stables and didn’t even think twice about it.’

  ‘He was probably going after Max,’ Cat said, refusing to feel hopeful. After the chat with Angelique, there seemed little point. ‘It probably had nothing to do with me at all.’

  Seraphina shook her head. ‘No, sorry. He was going after you. The emergency services had already been called by my father and they were heading towards Max. Xavier came after you, honestly.’

  ‘Why did Angelique tell Xavier I was out there?’

  ‘Angelique?’ Seraphina scoffed. ‘She didn’t tell him! My father told him after he’d had a stiff drink. He suddenly remembered you’d chased after Max and Xavier dropped everything and left.’

  ‘But Angelique said . . . she said . . .’ Cat was reeling. Her heart leapt but she didn’t want it to. It felt too bruised to be put through the wringer again.

  ‘Oh, don’t believe anything that nasty old witch told you!’ Seraphina said, checking her watch. ‘I think you have time to change so we’d better get a move on.’

  ‘Change? Why?’ Cat glanced down at her outfit. ‘I want to be comfy on the plane. I was going to change when I got there.’

  Seraphina burst out laughing. ‘We’re not going on easyJet, you know! You can change when we get there but you can’t wear that on the private jet. Well, you can but you might feel a bit silly.’

  Cat’s mouth fell open. ‘The what?’

  Seraphina took her arm. ‘You know we’re rich, right? Well, over there in that hangar is a private jet.’

  Cat couldn’t help smiling. Of course they had a private jet! ‘Is . . . Angelique coming with us?’ she asked, feeling the need to prepare herself.

  Seraphina scoffed. ‘Of course not! She’s making her own way there because she’s a total diva. Anyway, you’ll want to look smart because we’re staying in the George V,’ she finished, grinning as Cat’s mouth fell open again.

  Allowing Seraphina to drag her upstairs to get changed, Cat’s mind was working overtime. What else had Angelique lied about? Were any of her spiteful statements true? What about the ‘big announcement’ she said Xavier was going to make?

  Cat gazed at her reflection as Seraphina hurriedly pulled out dresses for her to try. She had no idea what was true and what wasn’t any more but suddenly, all that mattered was seeing Xavier face to face and talking about it, whatever the outcome.

  ‘Hair up, I think,’ Seraphina suggested helpfully as she eased a white linen dress over Cat’s head. She quickly pinned up her tresses and covered Cat’s head in swirls of hairspray, hoping the simple but elegant chignon would last the night.

  Cat shivered in anticipation. This was it; everything was riding on this trip to Paris.

  The rest of the family were already aboard the private jet as Cat and Seraphina hurried past the lavender fields to join them.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  On the short flight, Max and Madeleine sat together, chatting and listening to music. Max was still sporting an impressive bruise on his head, but a besotted Madeleine seemed oblivious. Seraphina sat across from them, drumming her fingers restlessly on the arms of her seat and leaning over to stare out of the window every so often. She clearly had something on her mind but whatever it was she was keeping it to herself, even though it looked as though it was killing her not to spill the beans.

  Watching her, Cat had felt a moment of disquiet. Was Seraphina back in touch with Yves? Surely not; Cat was certain Seraphin
a had learnt her lesson. No, whatever was causing her to wriggle against her seat belt like a puppy straining at its leash had nothing to do with smarmy older men.

  Anxiously, Cat glanced at Guy. Seemingly lost in his own world, he sat beside Delphine, staring into space but with a peaceful expression on his face. He was wearing a debonair silver-grey suit with a white shirt and baby-pink tie, and the black smudges beneath his eyes seemed to be fading and the taut line of his shoulders seemed more relaxed. He’d confided in her that he was attending grief counselling and she thought it was brave of him to finally confront his demons. Cat hoped it worked for him.

  Guy was preoccupied but he was also calm for the first time in over two years. He had seen Elena on several occasions now and his head felt clear and focused. It was amazing how talking about his grief made it seem manageable somehow; how openly admitting how shitty he’d been feeling had made him feel so much lighter.

  Glancing out of the window as the jet circled Charles de Gaulle airport, Guy remembered the most significant thing Elena had told him. Fixing her wise, kindly eyes on him, she’d told him that when he was ready to love again, he’d know. And she had said that when he did, he should also prepare himself for something new, instead of trying to replace Elizabeth. And even though Guy was sure he wouldn’t be ready to date anyone for a long time, the relief at hearing that he shouldn’t measure any other woman against Elizabeth had been huge. For some reason, Guy had assumed that if he could even bring himself to be with anyone else, the woman would seem a poor second to his beloved wife. He hadn’t realised that part of his healing process was letting go of the perfect memory he had created of Elizabeth. And that when he was ready, it was all right to allow someone totally different into his life.

  Not that this was about meeting someone new, Guy told himself. He had a long way to go before he was ready for that. Giving Cat a heartfelt smile, he hoped his gratitude towards her was obvious because without her suggestion that counselling might work for him, he was sure he wouldn’t be on the road to recovery. Cat returned Guy’s smile and nodded to Delphine. She was taken aback to detect the ghost of a smile on the old lady’s face. My God, Delphine had looked almost friendly for a second! The smile slipped away but her eyes remained friendly. Effortlessly elegant, Delphine looked the epitome of the stylish older woman in a sparkling, oyster-coloured suit with a floor-length skirt and a fitted jacket with a stand-up collar that made the most of her fabulous diamond earrings and pretty make-up.

  Perplexed but secretly delighted by the warmth in Delphine’s eyes, Cat stole a glance at Leoni and realised she was clutching the armrests and biting all her red lipstick off.

  ‘It’ll be all right,’ Cat assured her, reaching out to squeeze her hand. Cat didn’t know what had gone on in Paris with Ashton but Leoni seemed very upset by it. She had also mumbled that she had finished with Jerard, but oddly she didn’t seem overly bothered about that. She seemed far more distraught about her trip to Paris and Cat couldn’t help wondering if Leoni had finally figured out she felt more for Ashton than just friendship.

  Thinking about Xavier briefly, Cat felt her stomach flip over. Angelique’s venomous words were still clear in her head but the woman clearly had her own agenda – basically, getting Xavier back – so Cat realised she shouldn’t trust her. But Xavier had made no effort to clear the air with her when he had returned from Morocco and Paris – at least, not that Cat was aware of.

  But he had ridden after her and he had kissed her. Or had he? Cat gave up. She wouldn’t know what the situation was until she saw Xavier again and had a chance to talk to him.

  Paris looked gorgeous in the early evening sunshine as the private jet touched down on the concourse. Unclipping her seat belt, Cat followed the Ducasse family out and they all ducked into waiting limos. At the George V, Cat gaped at her stunning room, charmingly named the ‘Suite Anglaise’. It was large enough for six and came with elegant columns and a four-poster bed. It was on the seventh floor and it had a balcony overlooking the Marble Courtyard.

  Cat quickly changed into the beautiful turquoise dress Leoni had treated her to and touched up her make-up. She caught sight of an envelope on the bed. It was addressed to her and when she opened it, she found a stiff card inside with the hotel motif at the top. In handwriting she recognised as Xavier’s, she read: ‘Not everything is as it seems. Trust me. Xavier.’

  Cat stared at it. What on earth did that mean? Wishing Xavier would sometimes just talk to her, she grabbed her handbag. She stuffed the card inside it as an afterthought and went downstairs to meet the family. They were driven to the shop in the limos. Cat tried to take in the sights as they whisked past the window but she only really got a good look at the Champs-Élysées, which was lit up majestically.

  At the shop, Cat and the Ducasse family gasped in unison as they climbed out of their limos. The front was lit up with discreet spotlights that played on bottles of perfume positioned on white columns of different heights. The beams of light picked out the silvery glass and ornate stoppers, and swathes of rich, deep purple satin were draped luxuriantly around the base of the perfume bottles. Cat tried to get a glimpse of the name of the fragrance but it was out of view and the perfume bottles were too far away to see. A matching dark purple carpet reached from the open door to the pavement edge, which was lined with photographers. Behind barriers and security men a crowd of fans jostled to hold up phones and cameras to get shots of the celebrities.

  As Cat joined the guests in their dinner jackets and brightly coloured couture gowns, she was suddenly very grateful for the shimmering turquoise sheath dress Leoni had bought her and that Seraphina had worked her magic with her hair. She could see the Hollywood actor Delphine had invited to the party at the château to her left, his arm loosely round his gorgeous wife’s shoulders (he in Armani Privé and diamonds, she head to toe in Chanel and sapphires) as well as a former president and a bunch of young, trendy French, American and English celebrities recognisable from films, pop groups and billboards.

  Not for the first time, Cat realised how well connected the Ducasse family were. This was essentially the opening of a new perfume store, yet the purple carpet outside resembled Leicester Square at a major box office premiere.

  The shop was jaw-droppingly gorgeous inside, classy and upmarket. It felt both spacious and intimate at the same time. The finish was superb and it felt like an Aladdin’s cave, full of must-have fragrance and goodies. Billboards, covered with yet more purple fabric, hung from the high ceilings and sat propped up on different surfaces. A screen had been set up at the back, presumably to play the new advert for Xavier’s fragrance and the air was thick with expectation.

  Max immediately grabbed glasses of champagne for himself and Madeleine. Guy and Delphine pretended not to notice. They were fairly sure Max had calmed down sufficiently enough not to have to be monitored like a child and it was only a glass of champagne, after all. As far as Guy was concerned, and on Elena’s advice, Max would obviously benefit from some fatherly guidance but he could also do with some freedom as an adult. Guy planned to ask him what he wanted to do about college and careers later on, and he fully intended to listen to whatever Max had to say. Seraphina, looking more serene than she had in a long time, was resolutely ignoring the champagne and the mouth-watering canapés that were doing the rounds. Instead, she simply stood at the back of the shop and watched everything that was going on.

  Cat glanced at Leoni. She was dressed in a navy silk dress with a plunging neckline and a long skirt and she looked pale and thin. She was wearing contact lenses, which seemed to make her brown eyes look huge, but she looked fragile, as though she could faint at any moment.

  ‘Leoni, do you think you should eat something? You look awfully pale,’ Cat commented worriedly.

  Leoni shook her head, her shiny brown bob grazing her chin. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, sounding anything but.

  ‘Is it how you imagined it?’ Cat asked, knowing this must be momentous for her. Afte
r all, this store had been her dream.

  Leoni smiled sadly, noting Jerard’s exquisite candles sitting stacked up on a curved shelf. ‘Better,’ she asserted. ‘The light in here, it’s wonderful. And the way the counters have been designed, well, they are just perfect for the products. It’s as though Ashton knows me inside out . . .’ Her voice faded.

  About to ask Leoni about Ashton, Cat caught sight of the name of the fragrance as a celebrity moved out of the way and exposed an enormous billboard by the till area. ‘La Spontanéité’, it said, in purple, swirly writing. And underneath: ‘L’Amour . . . Le Risque . . . La Spontanéité . . .’ Love, risk, spontaneity. Cat sucked in her breath. Romantic spontaneity, a notion Cat had cited as a way to live life and one Xavier had defensively rejected, at the time. Cat didn’t dare hope that the name of the new fragrance meant anything.

  Ashton appeared in the store from the flat above. Cat saw Leoni swallow and meet his blue eyes. They stared at each other in agonised silence. Breaking the tension, Leoni moved out of his line of vision and slipped behind a group of anorexic models. Hearing a commotion at the door, Cat turned to see what was happening.

  Xavier had arrived. Resembling one of the many celebrities milling around, he looked devastatingly handsome in a discreetly expensive black dinner suit with a snow-white shirt and an undone black silk tie around his neck. The light played on his tanned face for a moment as he stood in the doorway, highlighting his arrogant nose and the wide, sexy mouth that was curved into a polite smile. His sleepy-looking, chocolate-brown eyes slid around the store as though he was looking for someone and then they came to rest on Cat. She almost felt he was trying to say something to her but then she saw something that made any hope she might be feeling dissolve.