The French Promise

by Fiona McIntosh

  Lisette put a hand on her friend’s arm. ‘I’m sorry, Nel. That was insensitive of me.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. And don’t you dare choose your words around me. I’ve accepted I can’t have children now. The miscarriage last year was too damaging emotionally. Poor Tom. I thought he might die of grief.’ Lisette gave a small sympathetic nod. ‘But Luc pulled him through.’

  ‘And you. You were the strong one.’

  Nel nodded. ‘I don’t want to be that strong any more, though. I love Tom, and he loves me with the same school-boyish adoration I remember from our teens; we have more than a lot of people ever share just with that. Harry and Jenny will have to be enough.’

  Lisette smiled sadly. ‘Well, I’ll say this, no one loves Jenny more than you.’

  ‘She’s a wonderful child, Lissie. She can be prickly, I know—’

  ‘And so self-possessed,’ Lisette cut in.

  ‘All of that. But she’s resilient, like her mother. When Jenny commits to something or someone, she gives herself entirely. Look at her – she adores her brother. But Harry casts a long shadow. Everyone loves Harry and I think Jenny just doesn’t bother to compete with that. When I’m alone with her I see only her enthusiasm and joy. She’s got so many big plans and dreams. You gotta love her for it.’

  ‘She frightens me. I think Jenny could leave home tomorrow and not look back.’

  ‘Meanwhile Harry’s hurting?’

  Lisette nodded, felt her lips tremble but refused to cry. ‘I’ll miss him so much.’

  ‘We all will.’

  ‘You know, when Luc and I were going through our tough times back in Britain, it was Harry who kept me sane; kept me determined to keep loving my husband. I used to watch Luc with him and I could see all the love was there but he was so depressed then, the only person he could channel it at was his little boy. Harry was my mirror – he reflected Luc’s love.’

  ‘Well, there’s no doubting it now,’ Nel said, flicking Lisette’s arm. ‘Most women I know envy you.’

  She smiled shyly. ‘No doubt at all.’

  ‘But maybe Harry leaving will be a good thing for you three …’ She shrugged. ‘Jenny can feel like an only child for a while – you know, the adored one.’

  Lisette nodded, putting her hand as a shade over her eyes as she squinted out at her children. ‘Yes, maybe you’re right.’

  ‘No,’ Lisette said, slathering her arms and face with more insect repellent over the top of the zinc cream. ‘Not too far out, Harry. I know nothing about surfing.’

  ‘But you’ve watched me all morning.’

  ‘Yes, and I’m impressed but my feet could always touch the bottom – that’s the depth we agreed to. Besides, it’s quite good fun riding a wave in with you.’

  ‘That’s not riding a real wave, Mum.’ He glanced across at the other noisy teens, sitting in the distance and laughing with each other.

  ‘I’m not a good swimmer, Harry. Besides, we’re on a family holiday so I want you with us, especially as … well, you know what I mean.’ She didn’t even want to mention school to Harry, who’d made them all promise that the word was off limits until the end of the holidays. ‘Now, take some photos of us so we can remember our time at the seaside.’ She cast a glance out at Jenny and Nel, who were exploring rock pools.

  The beach looked like a desert and it felt like a furnace today.

  The few people who had been around that morning had disappeared, leaving only the quartet of surfing teens, who looked to be lighting a fire for a barbecue. Lisette thought of the crowded summer beaches in Britain and couldn’t imagine how spoilt she felt today having an entire seaside to themselves.

  ‘Watch the sand on your camera,’ she remarked. ‘Where do you want us?’

  ‘By the dunes,’ Harry said, pointing down towards the coastal reserve that ringed the beach.

  Jenny strolled up. ‘Phew, I can barely breathe in this heat.’ She affected a swoon.

  ‘You’re so dramatic, Jen,’ Harry remarked.

  ‘Maybe I’ll be a famous actress one day.’

  ‘I’ll supply your perfume,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, so you’re a perfumer now,’ she teased.

  ‘I have dreams too, you know,’ he bantered as they walked back towards the reserve. ‘Maybe I want to study perfume making in France.’

  She gave him a playful punch. ‘Well, you have to wait for me before you can go to France. I want to live there too!’

  ‘Whatever you want, Jen. It’s easier that way,’ he said.

  ‘Harry, you’re going to make a good husband some day with that attitude,’ his mother replied, laughing.

  Lisette put an arm around the waists of her children as they walked towards the dunes, and couldn’t remember a moment she’d felt more at peace or more in love with her family. She had finally found the happiness she’d been searching for all of her life.

  ‘Do you know, if I died today, I could honestly say my heart was full.’

  Jenny rolled her eyes. ‘You say the strangest things, Mum. I have to say, though, you’re looking cool for an older lady in those bathers. I told you they’d suit.’

  Lisette craned her neck to catch the soft breeze that was stirring off the sea. ‘You did,’ she agreed, realising anyone over forty to a new teenager had to seem ancient. Middle age … it sounded horrible and calculated. But then again, it meant she had another four decades in which to watch her children grow up, to give her grandchildren, for her and Luc to grow old together. She sighed. ‘This is beautiful … just like you two.’

  She saw her children throw each other a glance, as though her soppiness was tedious but they liked it all the same.

  Harry began arranging them for the photo shoot. ‘Don’t model for the camera. You can look out to sea, but just don’t look at me.’

  ‘Good grief,’ Lisette said. ‘I didn’t know you were going to stage-direct this.’

  Harry snapped off some shots without waiting for his subjects to strike any pose. They soon got into the swing of it and Lisette liked that she didn’t have to grin for the photo. She thought Harry looked rather expert as he moved around, snapping away, but then he’d always been interested in photography.

  He moved in on Jenny to do a close-up. ‘For an annoying younger sister you’re really quite pretty. The camera likes you, Jen.’

  She flicked his arm at the couched insult. ‘Can I have a go?’

  ‘Sure. There are four photos left on the film so make them count,’ he said, putting the camera strap over her head and around her neck. ‘You can have three of them. Save one for Nel to take one of us all for Dad.’

  ‘Well, unlike you, I want big cheesy ones, with you both looking straight at me.’

  Lisette and Harry sighed at each other. She put an arm around her boy and they grinned for the camera. Nel arrived to take the final photo.

  ‘Right!’ Harry said after the family group shot was taken. ‘Time to surf.’

  ‘Last one before lunch,’ Nel said. ‘I’m going to the shack to get it ready.’

  ‘All right, thanks, Nel,’ Lisette said. ‘I’ll take the kids in for one more dip and then we’ll head back. I guess we should start thinking about what to cook for the men tonight.’

  ‘Well, I’m hoping they’ll bring some fish,’ she said, her tone dry.

  They watched her leave, taking Harry’s camera with her.

  ‘Race you down,’ Lisette called, making sure she got a head start on them both.

  Jenny squealed in mock fury and Harry laughed, easily catching up and outdistancing them, grabbing his board as he went and skimming smoothly into the shallows and beyond.

  ‘Not too far, Harry!’ Lisette called. Jenny had already stopped to look at a beautiful shell. Lisette walked closer to the foaming shoreline. ‘Harry?’ she yelled, cupping her hands so her voice would carry.

  He waved that he’d heard and then was paddling out across the sparkling, shifting carpet of blue, which looked surprisingly still toda
y. She noticed no other surfers in the surf; two had just emerged and were just shaking off the water from their almost white-blond hair.

  ‘It feels suddenly cooler,’ she commented to one of them. ‘The afternoon breeze is coming in … is that your son out there?’

  She nodded, a twinge of anxiety curling around her gut. ‘We’ve never been here before.’

  ‘Yeah. Bit of a secret place, to tell the truth,’ he admitted. ‘It looks calm but it’s um …’ He was searching for the word. ‘It sorta tricks you.’

  ‘Oh? Deceptive?’

  He looked at her blankly. ‘Yeah, yeah – it looks one way but acts another.’ He pointed. ‘The waves are picking up now … they’ll hit up to four feet. The surf breaks from either side and you can’t always tell which. And there’s a mighty rip channel. The wind obviously makes the rips a problem. They cut every six-hundred feet or so.’

  She regarded him with alarm. What was he talking about and why had they not heard about it before? ‘Rip channel?’ she repeated, remembering now how Nel had warned them that the surfing here needed respect. She shook her head in bafflement, gazing at Harry, who was still paddling away from her. She wanted to yell to him but she forced herself to look back at the boy she was talking with; the other one had drifted away and she noticed that their three other friends had also disappeared. ‘And?’

  He shrugged. ‘The rips will get stronger but surfers who know Cliffy love it because the waves get better, obviously. We’ll come out again later.’

  ‘Perhaps we’ll see you. You can give my son some tips. His name’s Harry. He’s fifteen.’

  He nodded. ‘No worries.’ He smiled at her. ‘Looks like you’ve got the beach to yourselves.’

  ‘But Harry’s okay, right? The rip …?’

  His noncommittal shrug spoke droves. ‘They say you should swim left or right if the rip catches you.’

  ‘Where is it exactly?’ she asked, frowning, taking the opportunity to look at Harry, who was now moving swiftly away from the shore.

  ‘Everywhere,’ he said unhelpfully. ‘You can’t pick it. I reckon you should just float on your back. It will bring you to shore eventually.’ He gave a crooked grin. ‘That’s what I’ve found, anyway.’

  Lisette gave a tight smile of thanks. ‘I might call him in now.’

  ‘He’ll be right,’ he said. ‘My name’s Phillip.’

  ‘Thank you. I’m Lisette Ravens.’

  Phillip smiled just as Harry might, lifted a hand in a slightly self-conscious wave and ambled away, his feet still damp and covered with sand, his back broad, bronzed and freckled from a summer of surfing.

  ‘Who were you talking to?’ It was Jenny arriving.

  ‘A surfer called Phillip. Listen, I’m going for a swim. I want to make sure Harry heads in now.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘Jen, stay on the beach. It’s—’

  ‘No, I’m hot. I’m coming with you.’

  There was no talking Jenny out of anything when her mind was made up. ‘All right. But we have to be careful.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘Something called a rip.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I have no idea. A wave or something. Phillip said we’d be fine but I want Harry back to shore.’

  They began wading out, jumping as the chilled water shocked their hot skin. It felt exhilarating and they were both laughing at each other’s shrieks. She could see the rugged series of rocks at the shoreline, where the waves crashed, but she was reassured that they were swimming in the middle waters, which were an incandescent mix of blue-green in their shallows. Lisette forgot her former anxiety and so when she called to Harry it was in a calm and easy tone.

  ‘Harry!’ But he didn’t turn. ‘Jen, don’t come out any further.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I’ll just get a bit closer.’

  They both called to him as Lisette lifted her feet from the sand bed and swam a little further.

  ‘He promised not to go too far!’ she snapped, treading water. ‘Now, don’t get angry.’

  ‘I’m not angry. But I don’t like him going out that far.’

  ‘He’s not far,’ Jenny countered. ‘Even I could swim out to him.’

  ‘Don’t!’ her mother warned. ‘And I can’t swim as strongly as you two.’

  They called again to Harry but the breeze had come on stronger and whipped their yells away.

  Lisette dog paddled out a little further; she had to admit the water was deliciously refreshing and the sun felt like a balm rather than a foe, now that she was cold.

  ‘Ah, at last,’ she said, feeling her insides loosen with relief. ‘He’s turned.’

  Jenny waved. ‘Hey, Harry!’

  He waved back now that he was facing them, grinning lopsidedly. ‘Mum?’

  Lisette turned to her daughter, smiling. ‘Okay, time for lunch,’ she said, feeling slightly breathless from treading water and the cold was making her feel even hungrier.

  ‘I can’t feel the bottom any longer,’ Jenny mentioned.

  Lisette blinked and her gut, which had just begun to relax, tightened again into a heavy black ball of fear, as she too could no longer feel the wet sand beneath her reaching toes. Her gaze snapped to the shore and she was shocked to see how far out they were. How and when had that happened? It had only been a few moments …

  ‘Jenny,’ she began, not allowing a note of her concern to sound in her voice. ‘You start swimming back, darling. I’ll just see Harry on his wave and I’ll be on my way too.’ She cast a glance at Harry and noticed he was paddling furiously, his head turned behind looking for the wave he was going to ride back. ‘Harry’s right behind us,’ she assured her daughter, forcing herself to sound bright.

  ‘Okay,’ Jenny said and began to swim. ‘Ooh, we’re quite far out, aren’t we?’

  Lisette realised with fresh fear that they were further out still than they’d been moments earlier. ‘Swim, Jenny!’

  ‘I am!’ her daughter yelled, gasping. ‘I just can’t seem to get anywhere.’

  Lisette was now being pulled further from Jenny, the separation fuelling her dismay and worry for them. She was especially angry with herself that she hadn’t felt any sensation of travelling. It was happening invisibly beneath her as though she were on some ghostly but lightning-fast conveyor belt beneath the water’s surface. She flipped onto her belly, kicked her legs back and began to swim as furiously as she could. She needed to reach her daughter. Harry will be fine, she told herself.

  ‘Mum!’

  Lisette looked up, her eyes stinging with salt, and nearly screamed when she saw that Jenny was now twice as far away again from her and they were both frighteningly far from the shore. She glanced towards Harry and knew he was aware something was wrong. His head was whipping around and his body language told her he was tired. There was no wave breaking to carry him in. He was also much further out than she dared let herself acknowledge and a little voice whispered in her mind that she could no longer make out his features any more. She only knew it was him because of the red smudge of his bathers in the distance.

  It was the rip. This was what Phillip had warned her about. What did he say? Swim to the right or left of it, wasn’t it? And then he’d said something about floating. Well, Jenny simply wasn’t strong enough to swim out of this, Lisette didn’t think; she already looked fatigued.

  ‘Jenny! Listen to me.’ Lisette had to shout she was so far away, then coughed as salty water flooded her mouth. ‘Float, darling!’ She heard her own voice break into the panic that was now coasting freely through her. All that intensive training from the war deserted her now. She’d been nicknamed an ice queen by her colleagues; she’d watched men being executed brutally and not lost her cool; stared down a Gestapo officer’s threats; even brazenly slept with the enemy; never once betraying her fear. But it had only been her life on the line then. These two other precious lives mattered so much more.

&nbs
p; Lisette forced her mind to go blank, refused to hear the echo of Luc’s voice and his warning about Harry surfing. She had to get to Jenny. Lisette tried not to fight against whatever invisible currents were pulling at her. She hadn’t moved any further away – and assuming she had somehow drifted outside of the rip’s reach, she now swam with fresh determination towards Jenny.

  Jenny was tiring too quickly, that much was obvious. And she was watching her mother’s slow approach with only panic in her expression and letting out a mewling sound. Lisette was traumatised, but would not permit herself to look back for Harry. He had the security of the surfboard – maybe he had finally caught a ride in on a wave and was already at the shore, getting help for them. She had to stay focused. Reach Jenny. Now she allowed herself to pause, look up and her determination was rewarded; she was close enough to Jenny to be heard.

  ‘Jenny … listen to me,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Jenny!’

  ‘Mum …’ Her baby sounded terrified. ‘I’m going to drown.’ She began to gulp, swallowing water and crying.

  ‘No, you’re not. Listen to me. You’re not! Jenny! Please, listen to me. You have to float.’

  ‘What?’ She was weeping, sinking and then somehow clawing her way back to the surface, spitting out water.

  Lisette was crying openly now too, although it was salty tears pouring into a salty sea that held no compassion. She felt fatigued and couldn’t get to Jenny, so she knew she had to urge her child to fight for her life.

  ‘You’re tired. Float. Turn on your back.’

  ‘I’ll sink.’

  ‘No. You know how to float – you’re the best of all of us. Turn, Jenny. Please, darling. Don’t look at the beach, just stare at the sky and float. For me. That’s it, be brave.’

  ‘Mum,’ Jenny wailed.

  ‘Onto your back. Don’t struggle. Well done. Now just think of the ice cream that Nel has on shore and float, Jenny. Harry’s probably already there. Phillip said the rip will take you back. It’s easy – there you go.’ Her words came in staccato rushes. She was cold and tired … and now her strength was failing her too.

  ‘And you, Mum! Float with me.’