She was powerless, Elena thought. This man knew the way to her heart.
“Why are you crying?” he asked now, still holding the little girl protectively in his arms.
Elena glared at him. “There are such things as tears of joy, would you believe?”
His eyes lit up with delight. He bent his head and kissed the baby, who was still sleeping peacefully. Then he stood up and put her back in the crib.
“I think we missed a step,” he said, turning back to Elena.
“We’ve got some catching up to do, then,” she said through her tears.
“Yes, I think we have.”
His lips brushed hers, then he kissed her deeply. He told her how he felt, what it had been like in the weeks he’d stayed away . . . then he held her and kissed her again. Now everything was clear between them. Now they were just a man, a woman . . . and their child.
“I’d like to call her Beatrice,” Elena told him. “She’ll be happy, she’ll be loved, she’ll have a brilliant future. And then . . .” She reached for Cail’s hand. “Do you think Elizabeth would mind if we named her after her, too?”
Cail felt his heart leap. His mother would be over the moon. “You can ask her yourself,” he replied. “She’ll be here in a minute. Sophie sent me a message earlier. My dad’s coming, too. Do you mind?”
Elena grabbed hold of his sweater with both hands and, pulling him toward her, she kissed him with all of her heart. She’d done enough crying, and now she couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital. She was in a hurry—a hurry to start living.
• • •
In the days Elena had to stay in the hospital, the two of them talked endlessly. Cail told her about Juliette and her death. How he’d been captivated by her bravery and her carefree ways. He’d followed her, indulged her and loved her without question, as if there were no tomorrow. In the end, it had cost him dearly, and it had cost Juliette, too; she had died because he never knew how to say no to her.
It wasn’t easy to explain. There were things he struggled to understand himself. But a deep sense of guilt and remorse had tormented him all these years, as had the despair that wouldn’t go away, the questions that nagged at him, the uncertainty; not knowing whether there was any way he could have avoided the accident. He was young when it happened, and he’d carried that pain in his soul, stopping him from moving on. Until Elena came along and changed everything.
Now there was a new life sketched out in front of him, one that had nothing to do with the past. Elena wasn’t Juliette, and he wasn’t the same man as he had been, back then.
There was no sense in digging up the past, and he didn’t want to. So he’d decided to look forward, leaving everything behind. Now the time had come to smile, to live, to love.
At first, Elena was upset that he hadn’t told her about Juliette earlier; then she had to admit to herself that she wasn’t being fair. After all, she hadn’t been completely honest either. She started to reflect on what Cail had said and little by little she understood why he had run away from their relationship.
The past was water under the bridge. All that mattered was the future. Their future.
That was when Elena realized she had a family. A real family. The sense of belonging was intense and comforting.
People were constantly coming and going: Geneviève Binoche and Adeline, Monsieur Lagose and Babette, Ben, Colette and Eloise. Aurore couldn’t tear herself away from the crib and was already imagining the perfumes she could make for little Beatrice. Then Monique’s parents arrived with her brother and sisters. Elena talked to Jasmine for a while, in private. Apparently Susanna had been to see her. They’d had a long chat, mostly about Elena.
Despite the bitterness she had always felt every time she thought about her mother, Elena discovered that she no longer felt the acute pain that had always accompanied her memories.
Monique called her on the telephone every day from New York. Elena was very pleased to hear her sounding happier. Perhaps it had something to do with the maître parfumeur she’d been working with recently, who went by the exotic name of Ilya. He’d asked her out a couple of times. Elena didn’t know whether Monique was interested, but she was sure of one thing. Love brings joy. Pain and despair are something else.
At some point, you have to remove whatever it is that is poisoning your soul. It’s a matter of survival. She hoped that one day, Monique would be able to forget Jacques Montier and look forward, to the horizon, illuminated every day by the sunrise, bringing with it hope and life.
Epilogue
INULA: confidence. Precious perfume, golden like its flowers that welcome the sun.
The fragrance accompanies inner growth, reassures and helps to express the feelings in our hearts.
Banishes all kinds of fear.
They had decided to live in Cail’s apartment. The room next to his had been transformed into a nursery for little Beatrice. Cail had painted it turquoise and yellow, and covered one wall with dozens of stars that glowed in the dark. They placed the crib in the middle, surrounded by white furniture; everything bright and welcoming.
Cail had replaced his own bed with a new double. It was there when Elena came out of the hospital, ready to welcome her. At first they simply slept together, knowing they could reach out and hold each other in the night. But soon their movements revealed a need that had deepened over time and become a longing. There was no reason to stop now. Skin on skin, breathing together, possession and fulfillment; all the things they had thought they understood, they rediscovered together, as their world took shape and they lost themselves in each other.
Elena loved that bed, especially when they stayed there for hours, in each other’s arms, making up for lost time, or the nights she spent watching over Bea.
Happiness had tiptoed gently into their lives and taken over, making everything look different. All they had done wrong seemed like a distant memory that not even perfume could evoke. Elena could now contemplate things that, not so long ago, had been unthinkable.
That morning, Elena woke up early. She’d opened her eyes and noticed how the sunrise lit up their bedroom. Cail was beside her; she could sense his warmth, his smell, the murmur of his nonsense talk with the baby sitting on his chest.
“Good morning, my love,” he said, realizing she was awake.
Elena kissed his chest, nibbled at Bea’s foot, making her squeal with delight, and after a long yawn got up and went into the kitchen. “Do you want some tea?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” Cail replied.
Elena opened the windows, lit the gas under the kettle and then prepared the coffee pot for herself. The sounds of everyday life drifted in from the street: Paris was already bustling. That morning she had a few important appointments, two for customized perfumes, and then she had to meet the representative from a consortium of small, niche perfumeries that wanted to sell some of her all-natural creations. Now that Aurore was at the ISIPCA in Versailles, she had less free time. Fortunately, Adeline was around to lend a hand. Cail was a great help, too. That morning he would stay with Beatrice and take her to the gardens.
Suddenly a gust of wind lifted up the curtains, blowing into the kitchen and diffusing the aroma of hot coffee. The tea was already sitting in Cail’s cup. John wagged his tail. Elena smiled at him and filled his bowl. He waited for her to stroke him before he got any closer. She still found it difficult to touch him, but with a little determination, she was getting there. That same determination that had enabled her to do so many things.
She poured the coffee into her cup, careful not to splash the postcard that had arrived the day before. Jean-Baptiste Lagose was on holiday with Babette, and from his postcards, it seemed that everything was going swimmingly. Elena thought back to when they’d called in to say goodbye before they left. She could tell they were really excited. She smiled to herself and put honey into both cups. E
verything was ready. She was about to call Cail when a little turquoise box sitting on the sideboard caught her eye. It was the perfume Susanna had made for her all those years ago, and which Elena had brought back from Florence. She’d left it there, where she could see it, thinking that one day, when she was ready, she would open it.
She set the cups down on a tray and put some cookies out on a saucer. But her eye kept returning to the little box and its contents. She stared at it for a moment, before opening it carefully and taking out the bottle. It weighed nothing, she thought, holding it in her hand. For a moment she was tempted to place it back in the box, to put it off again. Now that life was so good, what did this perfume matter?
She closed her eyes. When she opened them, she slowly unscrewed the lid and brought the bottle to her nose.
The first blast took her breath away. It was strong and pungent. Could it have gone off? But that wasn’t possible; it had been kept sealed and safe. She drew the perfume away from her nose and decided to put it on her skin. A couple of drops on her wrist . . . and she waited.
One by one, the molecules that made up the top notes rose up, warmed by the heat of her skin. Strong and pungent again. Like the hostile relationship Elena had had with her mother. But soon there was a floral explosion and a burst of vanilla. The heart of the perfume, evoking a lullaby hidden in the depths of her memory. How did that refrain go?
“Lullaby and good night, thy mother’s delight . . .”
Then it became more stable, warm and welcoming—like an embrace. It was beautiful. And it was one of the most wonderful fragrances that Elena had ever smelled.
In the end, she recognized it. A gentle shiver ran all the way through her. Surely she must be mistaken? But she wasn’t. She knew exactly what this was.
This was the perfume she’d made for her mother when she was just a little girl. Only there was something new, something different about it. Elena soon realized what it was. Susanna had kept the perfume and she’d finished it. Now it was perfect. It was her Perfect Perfume.
She smelled it again and rose filtered through the other notes; then came vanilla—and in that floral middle, Elena found the meaning in the message. It was her mother’s answer: it was her embrace; it was her love for her. Delicate and then intense; bitter, yet there was a hint of sweetness; warm and enchanting. It was the perfume of life; it was the perfume of happiness.
She stood still, breathing it in slowly with her eyes closed, immersed in the magic. Then she opened them again. The time had come.
With Cail still talking to Beatrice, and the baby responding in her own way, Elena took her mobile phone out of her bag, sat down on a chair and dialed the number. She waited patiently, her heart pounding, counting the rings.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Mom. It’s me, Elena.”
The Ways of Perfume
Floral Perfumes
Angelica: self-knowledge. Angels’ grass, a captivatingly sweet, honeyed perfume. The fragrance awakens the hidden essence of everything. Promotes self-awareness. A remedy for all ills.
Calendula: bravery. Sun-loving flower with a delightful, comforting perfume. The fragrance soothes and refreshes. Frees the mind of bad thoughts.
Chamomile: serenity. Warm and intensely floral. The fragrance of calm. Aids clarity of thought and fights restlessness.
Frangipani: unparalleled charm. Extracted from the plumeria flower and intensely floral. The fragrance of blossoming femininity opening itself up to life. Bold and voluptuous.
Geranium: intensity. Resembles the perfume of a rose without its subtlety. The fragrance symbolizes beauty, posture and humility. The ultimate feminine flower.
Helichrysum: understanding. Sweet as honey and bitter as a sleepless dawn. An intense perfume. The fragrance of kindness; to be used sparingly, blended with delicate scents like rose that can take on its qualities. Unites heart and mind, passion and reason. Evokes compassion.
Inula: confidence. Precious perfume, golden like its flowers that welcome the sun. The fragrance accompanies inner growth, reassures, and helps to express the feelings in our hearts. Banishes all kinds of fear.
Iris: trust. Precious and essential, like water, air, earth and fire. The fragrance is bright and intense. Relieves tension and renews faith in the soul.
Jasmine: sensuality. Flower of the night, it only gives off its perfume at sunrise and sunset. The fragrance is heady and warm. It evokes a magical world, blurs boundaries, bestows well-being and happiness. The real pleasure is hidden in its small white petals: picking it is just the beginning.
Lavender: relaxation. Intense and sweet; herbal with balsamic undertones. The complex fragrance seduces and bewitches. Refreshes and purifies the spirit; relieves exhaustion, fear and anxiety.
Magnolia: truth. One look is not enough: our eyes rarely perceive what hides behind appearances. An intense, brilliant scent. The fragrance illuminates the mind by promoting inner knowledge and releasing the energy required to face secrets and lies—things that seem true, but rarely are.
Mimosa: happiness. Intensely floral. The fragrance of mimosa flowers gives joy and vitality. Relieves sadness, encourages dialogue.
Narcissus: desire. Intensely sensual and intoxicating. The fragrance of pleasure and sexuality.
Neroli: marital love. Derived from orange blossom, this is the heavenly essence of flower petals. The fragrance of peace. Evokes positive feelings. Opens the way to love.
Rock rose: good cheer. Lovely and delicate, like a tiny pink rose. The fragrance is intense, enveloping. Its spicy heat can melt frosty souls, invoking the ability to smile and love.
Rose: love. A difficult essence to obtain. Sweet and light. The fragrance symbolizes feelings and emotions. Encourages personal initiative and the arts.
Scotch broom: courage. As rich as the color of its flowers, it is fresh and heady, with exciting floral notes. The fragrance announces the spring, the transition from old to new. Helps us not to lose heart.
Tuberose: change. White, intense, sweet and seductive. The fragrance of audacity and awareness. Stimulates creativity, evokes the power of change.
Verbena: good humor. Warm and enveloping. The fragrance invokes cheer and happiness. Encourages us to socialize.
Violet: elegance and discretion. Sweet, delicate. The fragrance of femininity. Soothes and invigorates.
Yarrow: inner balance. The scent of heaven and earth together. The fragrance is aromatic and resinous. Promotes harmony where conflict reigns, inspires clarity and stimulates the spirit.
Ylang-ylang: expression. Warm and feminine, tropical and sweet. The fragrance enables us to overcome disappointment and offense. Releases hidden feelings and helps us to express the poetry in our souls.
Fruit, Berry and Herb Perfumes
Basil: happiness. Regal perfume, deeply aromatic, fresh and spicy. Lifts the mind and spirit, freeing the heart of melancholy.
Bergamot: hope. Lively, scintillating. The fragrance gives energy and agility when all expectations have withered under the weight of monotony. Lights the way and helps us see alternatives.
Black pepper: perseverance. Warm and stimulating, the “King of Spices.” The fragrance awakens the senses, promotes inner strength. Teaches us that when it seems there is nowhere to go, we’ve just lost our way.
Cardamom: attraction. Enveloping, sweet and slightly spicy. The fragrance of Eros. Stimulates the spirit and encourages sharing.
Cinnamon: seduction. A full-bodied, sensual and intensely feminine perfume. The fragrance is exotic and spicy. Passionate and warm like the sun in the faraway lands where it is grown.
Citronella: enthusiasm. Stimulating and intense. The fragrance is aromatic, lemony. It channels energy.
Cloves: sweetness. Intensely spicy, sweet and aromatic. The fragrance of affection. Helps to bear the pain of waiting, easing transition.
Cumin: passio
n. Deeply mysterious. The fragrance is delicate, yet warm and enveloping. Inspires openness, strengthens Eros.
Fennel: fortitude. Banishes negative thoughts. The fragrance is pleasant and aromatic. It relieves fear and doubt, helping us face difficult situations.
Hay: calmness. Ancient, ancestral, akin to fire, sea and earth. The fragrance is etched deep in the ancient spirit we all possess. Evokes tranquility.
Hyssop: purity. The sweet, fresh scent of a new dawn. The fragrance retains the carefree lightness of morning. Stimulates concentration, clarifies ideas and, like all ritual herbs, promotes meditation.
Juniper: zeal. Intense and balsamic. The fragrance neutralizes negativity, brightens the mood, banishes problems and fears. Purifies the environment and the soul.
Lemon: rationality. The scent of reason. Intense, fresh, enveloping. The fragrance eliminates excess, inspires reflection and moderates instability. Banishes darkness weighing on the soul.
Mandarin: good fortune. Delicate, sparkling and fresh. The fragrance takes us back to the innocence of childhood. Lifts the spirits.
Marjoram: consolation. Combats pain. The fragrance is soothing and comforting. Banishes the fear of loneliness, strengthens the spirit and eases the pain of loss.
Melissa: comfort. The fragrance brings relief and dispels fear of the unknown. Helps to overcome sorrow, inspires self-awareness.
Mint: creativity. Fresh and invigorating. The fragrance gathers and clarifies ideas. Stimulates the imagination, subdues arrogance and improves judgment.
Nutmeg: determination. Deep and spicy. The fragrance inspires decisiveness. Gives courage and spurs action.
Orange: joy. The golden apple of the citrus grove, it thrives on sunshine and preserves its light and heat. The precious oil is concentrated in the rind. The fragrance combats sadness.
Rosemary: care. Dew of the sea, it protects and heartens.The fragrance gives courage, invoking fortitude. Inspires insight and clarity.
The Secret Ways of Perfume Page 36