by Janey Lewis
So Liberty tried to be the good daughter, look cheery and manage to splash champagne into flutes with a few of the sloes. She told her parents about the letter from the licensing board, and they agreed with Edmund it must have been a mistake or a mix-up.
‘Talking of Edmund, I just met him on a walk, and invited him to join us. I hope you don’t mind?’
Liberty hoped it was a rhetorical question as she wasn’t sure how much love-struck parenting she could take on her own.
‘Told you,’ was all Deirdre had to say, and that was directed at Alain, who told her not to interfere. At last finding his voice, he ignored Liberty’s puzzled look and advised, as though they had all been discussing the subject, ‘Your main idea is to have a daytime patisserie-cum-café, so it’s not the end of the world if the licence isn’t sorted before you open. If you are going to start advertising, don’t mention an alcohol licence until it’s up and going, but I’m sure a quick phone call will clear that up.’
Liberty could hear him talking as she served up breakfast, but felt as though she was hovering above the room. Where could Edmund be? She listened and watched as her parents fell upon the food, drank cocktails with gusto and finished off the coffee and tiny almond and pear tartlets.
‘If this is anything to go by, you will have happy customers,’ said Deirdre and Alain, sounding like nauseating twins.
‘Oh, stop it. Just tell me – what is going on with you two?’ said Liberty crossly. She had been unable to eat a thing.
Deirdre and Alain looked at each other, and then back at Liberty. ‘If you will allow me, my dear,’ said Alain, eyeing Deirdre in a stomach-turning sickly way that was both delightful and horrible to Liberty. ‘I knew I had made a terrible mistake the moment I left your mother. I felt I had to stand by Genevieve when she fell pregnant, probably in a selfish way, because I didn’t want bad publicity at that time for the restaurant.’
Deirdre opened her mouth to say ‘But what about me?’ but closed it again. She and Alain had been over it a hundred times in the past forty-eight hours and she was now blissfully happy. ‘When I left Genevieve I didn’t feel I could impose my selfish self back on the love of my life. I had made my bed and had to lie on it. Girls came and went, but only chosen to be pretty and lighthearted entertainment.’
‘Sex, you mean,’ said Liberty bluntly.
‘Well, yes,’ agreed Alain, having the grace to look sheepish. ‘But it took your leap of faith – leaving Percy, opening a café – to make me realise that I could change my life too, and correct the wrong I had created. I thought if your mother would have me back . . . I had to give it a go. She has admitted to being fond of me still, and of course would love to have me back,’ said Alain with a laugh, his macho side clearly feeling stroked, along with God knew what else.
Liberty turned to her mother. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, darling. Your father is going to live back here, and, after long discussions and a few disagreements, we have decided to turn the hotel into a school, to help people like Clarence. They can live in and learn at the same time. Applicants will have to prove their desire to learn to cook, combined with either a misspent or unfortunate background, whether their own fault or not. I have introduced Clarence to your father, who agrees that given the right direction he could become our first success.’
‘We will find him a job in one of my cronies’ hotels or restaurants and get him on his way,’ interrupted Alain. ‘A sort of upmarket Fifteen idea from the brilliant Jamie Oliver.’
Liberty was in a state of confusion – delighted for her parents, but horribly angry with them at the same time. In fact, the strength of her emotion was rendering her speechless. She loved the idea of a school to help others and thought her parents would do a marvellous job, but she couldn’t work out why she was feeling so terrible. Thankfully, at that moment the roar of an engine, screech of brakes and slamming of a car door indicated the arrival of someone who hated to be late. Edmund threw himself through the door, breathless and apologising.
‘The sink just exploded. Mrs Goodman was covered in something very unpleasant and I couldn’t leave her, and your phone is on the blink,’ he said in a rush, by way of explanation. He quickly took in the scene: Alain and Deirdre holding hands, grinning; Liberty looking as though she had been slapped with a dead fish. He also noticed her phone was floating in the sink alongside the frying pan.
‘Well, that explains one mystery,’ he said, taking command of the situation and removing the now drowned phone. ‘Is there any food left?’ He knew Liberty could cope with anything if she was feeding people. His question did the trick. Colour slowly flowed back into her face as she made some fresh coffee and rescued the plate she had saved for him from the warming oven of the Aga. Meanwhile, Alain and Deirdre filled Edmund in on their good news and plans for the Dark Horse.
‘It all sounds great, and of course I’m thrilled to bits for you both. Congratulations are most certainly in order!’ And Edmund raised the glass of champagne that Alain had filled.
Liberty was pacing. ‘Are you sure you can live together again?’ she asked.
‘It’s so strange!’ Deirdre giggled. ‘It’s as though we were never apart. Daddy got up and laid the fire this morning.’
‘After laying something far better upstairs,’ hooted Alain.
‘Oh, stop it, you two,’ said Liberty, covering her ears.
Deirdre and Alain both rose from their chairs, still smiling like idiots at each other. Deirdre said, ‘You haven’t said much, darling, are you feeling quite well? Are you not pleased?’
Liberty turned to face the Aga, leant against its warming comfort, and then realised it was no good. Like bile needing to find a release, her anger was encompassing her. The silence grew longer and even Edmund began to feel uncomfortable.
‘Darling?’ said Alain. ‘The correct response would be to hurl yourself at us and kiss us all over, saying congratulations and about bloody time!’ Alain was still grinning inanely, like a demented schoolboy who has just been given a balloon, a bowl of water and a bridge to play on. Deirdre, meanwhile, was starting to look a little worried and took a step towards Liberty.
Liberty immediately stretched out her arms in a stay away gesture. ‘Pleased? Excited? Congratulations?’ she shouted in a strange, strangulated voice. ‘You took away my sense of taste and smell and my ability to have a decent relationship. You barely spoke to one another through my teenage years. I had to make the terrible decision of who to choose at Christmas and birthdays. Arguing over the phone, never being able to agree on what school I should go to, what I should do in the holidays. You hardly spoke to one another at my wedding, but both of you insisted on giving speeches, so you would feel even. You had your own table of friends to sit with to make sure there were no scenes. I didn’t invite either of you to my graduation as you both made it clear that if the other was going you wouldn’t come. You even took my first car back when Daddy, who didn’t know BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T TALK, gave me one of his!’
Liberty glared first at her mother, then her father. All the tension of the last few months spilled out of her at last in a huge, bilious purge. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
‘You have a daughter, Daddy, my half-sister, who is a complete wreck, growing up without me ever getting to know her. I didn’t even meet wife number three. Has she got any children from you? My life was littered with workmates and fellow students asking if I could get them a date with my handsome, playboy father. How do you think that has made me feel over the years?
‘And Mother always seemed so depressed and lonely, despite pretending not to be, which only made it more plainly bloody obvious. I had to put up with all of that, and now I’m meant to be congratulating you both on finally sorting your stupid relationship out?
‘Just get out, go and congratulate yourselves to one another. I’ve got other stuff to worry about.’
‘But darling!’ began Deirdre, trying another step towards her hysterical daughter.
‘Just get out!’ screamed Liberty. ‘I mean it!’
Alain grabbed Deirdre and said to Liberty, ‘We will leave you to calm down. Call us when you are ready to behave like the adult, competent woman you seem to have grown into, despite having such a ghastly family.’ With that he swept Deirdre firmly out of the house.
Liberty collapsed on to a kitchen chair, head in hands, where it seemed to be far too often these days, and sobbed.
Edmund shuffled for a while from foot to foot, amazed to have seen such raw emotion pour from the normally controlled and together woman he thought he had got to know. His heart went out to her. He bent towards her, and held her tightly round her shoulders. He leant his head against hers, and kept it there. After a few minutes she seemed to be calming down.
Edmund said gently, ‘It’s a horrible part of growing up, realising your parents are not only mere human beings, but also just as useless at life as the rest of us.’
Liberty let out a gasp as she realised poor Edmund didn’t even have a mother, and she began sobbing again. ‘I’m so sorry, I’m being so selfish. I just feel so lost, and in such a silly way. My parents have actually always been a very solid part of my life – Daddy at the restaurant with his roué reputation, Mother at the same stove through the years. It was at least a comfort, even if they were apart, to know exactly where I stood. Now it’s all up in the air again. My café is failing before it opens, Percy just asked for a divorce, indicating that my marriage is officially a failure, I can’t have children and nobody loves me. Oh, God, I forgot how selfish and depressing I am!’ She gave a final sob, managed a pitiful smile and lifted her head.
‘I am so sorry. I am being ridiculous. I think I just needed to get all that out, and now I’ve made you all damp!’
Edmund looked down at his cashmere sweater that she was ineffectually mopping with her already wet handkerchief.
‘Oh, hang on, I’m not sure that is going to work very well. You seem to cry like you do everything – extremely efficiently. The River Thames is running down my front.’
They both smiled at each other, Edmund pleased to have witnessed the raw Liberty, and for her part Liberty was again realising what a kind, forgiving man Edmund was, let alone the fact he hadn’t run a mile when she started shouting. She felt like an utter fool. She admired this man and she had just demonstrated what a mess she was.
‘You think I was over-reacting?’ she asked quietly.
‘Maybe just a touch,’ he replied gently, and they found themselves laughing uproariously.
When they had calmed down, Edmund suggested they walk over to The Nuttery and wave a white flag. ‘They are your parents. They love you, and you are lucky they have finally realised they love each other. Look to the future; don’t blame them for the past. You can’t change anything that has happened, but you can show them how to help you to recover the stability you always craved. You always told Savannah you thought they should get back together.’
‘She told you that?’
‘I seem to recall eavesdropping a little in my youth,’ admitted Edmund.
‘That was a childish dream, fit only for a child,’ said Liberty sadly. ‘As I grew older it became clear to me that Daddy had only wanted a fling with Genevieve. But she became pregnant, and he felt he had to do the right thing. I think Mother was always so sad because she knew he had thrown their relationship away for something that ended so quickly, and obviously meant so little to him. And their poor daughter – she ended up getting a very short straw.’
‘But now your mother has forgiven him,’ said Edmund wisely. ‘So can’t you do the same? Maybe you could try to reconcile with your stepsister, see what you can do for her?’
‘I suppose I should do some growing up,’ sighed Liberty. ‘How come you are so virtuous and sensible?’
Alain and Deirdre were sitting at the kitchen table comforting each other, when they felt they should be celebrating. But as the one person they each loved more than each other was so upset, they couldn’t bring themselves to say it didn’t matter.
They jumped and Custard barked as there was a tap at the French doors. An umbrella handle with a white tea towel dangling from it was being dramatically waved from side to side by a quivering camellia bush.
Alain threw open the door as his daughter fell out of the bush, still red-eyed from crying, but looking sheepish and clutching a bottle of champagne.
‘Can we start again?’ she asked, feeling even more ghastly when she saw her white-faced, wretched looking mother. ‘Can you forget all those things I said? Or at least forgive? I did but didn’t mean them. It’s just been such an odd time. I’m thrilled for you both, of course I am. I just think the reality that you have sorted your lives out, while mine is still such a mess, finally sent me a bit doolally.’
‘Oh, gorgeous, gorgeous girl,’ said Alain, wrapping her tightly in a huge Daddy hug. ‘We were terrified we had done the wrong thing by you, and you will always be the most important person to us. So much of what you said is true – your mother and I acknowledge that I am a disgusting cad, and at times we have not been the best parents, but give us a chance, will you?’
Deirdre reached over and they all stood quietly, hugging, for a few moments. Eventually a subtle cough brought them back from their reconciliation. Edmund, too large to climb into the camellia, had been standing behind it, holding another bottle of fizz, unsure whether to run home and leave them to it and relieve himself of soggy jumper and emotional outbursts, neither of which he had experienced much before. But something had held him back, and rooted his feet to the spot. That something now turned and said, ‘Poor, dear Edmund, you must think us ridiculous. Come and make a toast. I feel you will be very good at that. My vocabulary seems to be in the intolerant, grumpy, self-centred part of the thesaurus – not a place to find words suited to these two old love birds.’
Edmund indeed made a fine toast to the now happy again couple. They all delighted in drinking to their health, happiness and better luck the second time around.
41
After what seemed an indecent amount of champagne, it was still only midday. Edmund remembered he had pipes to clear and Mrs Goodman to calm; thank goodness his father was still around. He said his farewells, glanced towards his car and wobbled off on foot in the direction of home.
Alain disappeared into the sitting room to make some calls; he was arranging a holiday for himself and Deirdre and wanted to give his girls some time together. Deirdre immediately started to gossip.
‘Paloma phoned this morning to say she and Jonathan are planning a trip to Paris to see if they can find anything out about Khalid. Paloma couldn’t give two hoots, of course, but she sees an opportunity to shop! They seem to be truly happy. I wouldn’t have put them together, but love finds a way and golly, did they both deserve to find happiness. Paloma was funny, though, she said that she always knew Alain and I would work it out in the end.’
‘What news of Evangeline and the baby?’ asked Liberty.
‘No arrival yet, but any day now.’
‘I do hope I can get there for the baptism, before LIBERTEAS opens,’ said Liberty wistfully, thinking how everyone else was enjoying themselves while she was planning to do nothing but work.
‘You know we will hold the fort for you, darling,’ confirmed Deirdre. ‘You must be impatient to open and get going?’
‘Yes, but no point before Easter, as I keep saying to myself and everyone else. As we discussed, I haven’t advertised yet. I should get on to that today, but first I need to tell you about my day in London, and why I was in such a state this morning.’
Was it only that morning? So much seemed to have happened. Liberty’s mind was pleasantly foggy with all the wine and she felt exhausted, but needed to tell her mother about Percy’s request for a divorce, and the possibility that he was going to be a father.
Alain had rejoined them by the end of her story, and he was fuming. ‘What the bloody hell does he think he is up to?’ His protective strea
k leapt out and he wanted to strangle the man who had treated his little girl so badly. ‘I do agree you should get the divorce sorted – free yourself from him. Why would you be upset about that?’
Liberty blushed and said, ‘It just seems so final, like an admission of failure.’
Both Deirdre and Alain could have wept. ‘Don’t be silly, darling,’ said Deirdre. ‘Think of it more as a fresh start. Like a new year, it will be the beginning of your next chapter in life.’
Alain told Liberty that she looked terribly tired, and said why didn’t she go home to get some rest? Then, looking a little embarrassed, he admitted, ‘We have to be going. I’m taking your mother to Le Manoir au Quat’Saisons for a couple of nights!’
‘Oh, Alain!’ squeaked Deirdre as she threw her arms around his neck, smothering his face with kisses. Reality checked in all of a sudden. ‘Who will look after the dogs? I have to pack! Who will drive – we’ve both had too much booze!’ Unable to cope with such excitement, she fell back into her chair again.
‘It’s OK, sweetheart,’ said Alain. ‘Sarah is coming to look after the dogs, and I have arranged for a driver so we can both relax, and yes – you need to pack. So go upstairs and find something elegant and something lovely to go underneath for two nights. You will only see the room and the restaurant, so don’t worry about other clothes.’ He smirked, and then abruptly stopped as he saw the expression on Liberty’s face.
‘I may well be happy for you both, but I have no need to hear the intimate bits!’ she said, giggling. As Deirdre raced upstairs, Alain told Liberty he wanted to see his old mate Raymond, the chef he most admired for his commitment and hard work as well as his ability to produce exquisite modern and classic food with the best possible ingredients. Alain was prepared to pay his prices as he felt they were deserved, unlike so many of the more expensive restaurants. Sotto voce in Liberty’s ear he added that he planned to propose properly, and he left quickly before she could ask any more questions.