The Seven Turns of the Snail's Shell: A Novel

by Mj Roë

  My son-in-law, Jacques, manages the restaurant. It is called “Ajaccio” after the capital city of Corsica.

  The other surprise I received was that my handsome grandson, Charlie, is here also. Having decided not to return to the hospital in Paris, he has become the town’s only doctor. I don’t know the reason, but I think that it is better for him being here.

  Forgive me if I ramble. I am an old man, too, but not so foolish as to fall in love anymore. There are many things I want you to know. First of all, I am sure that you are wondering about whether I have told Diamanté about you and your visit to Obernai. The answer is yes. But the surprise to me was that he already knew about you. My grandson, who I was pleasantly surprised to learn knew you (not that you needed to have told me), had informed him of your whole story, at least what he knew of it. I understand that Diamanté was quite taken aback at first and not sure whether he was up to meeting you at all. He can be a hard one, but now, I think my old friend has changed his mind. I believe that if you were to come for the wedding, he and Elise would be delighted. I too would be delighted to have the opportunity to see you again. Consider it seriously, ma chère.

  There is something I have to confess, Anna. When I recounted your visit to Obernai, I accidentally let slip about your nice young man, Mark, being with you. Charlie was visibly unnerved by the news. He is not one to show his emotions, as you must know, so I felt compelled to discuss it with him privately afterward. He told me the story about Nathalie’s tin box, the lost letters and losing you…twice, as he put it. I only tell you this because I am sorry to hear about the tragic nature of your relationship. Jacques should not have discarded your letters. (Incidentally, Charlie told me that his father has apologized to him for that and other affronts as well. They have a good relationship now, a respectful one.)

  That is the news from the south of France, dear Anna. If I don’t see you here, then perhaps you will come visit me in Obernai again soon.

  I remain, respectfully, your old friend and admirer, Guy de Noailles

  D614 had become narrow and winding. “Serpentine” was the word Anna thought of to describe it as it twisted and climbed on its way to Castagniers. There was not a lot of traffic. Anna came to a bend in the road, pulled over, and got out of the car. She looked out over a dramatic vista softly visible through the summer haze. Below her was a sheer drop to a ravine. Beyond it, tranquil villages with terracotta roofs dotted the soft green hills, and vast acres of lavender planted in long parallel lines filled the valley.

  “I hope this phone still works up here,” she said to herself as she punched in Monique’s telephone number on the cell phone she had rented at the airport in Nice. Monique and Georges were spending the month, as expected, at their bastide near Grasse, not far from Nice.

  “Allô?”

  “Monique?”

  “Anna! Have you arrived, chérie?”

  “Yes. I’m almost at Castagniers. It’s so beautiful here. So peaceful.”

  “When will we see you?”

  “I’ll call you.”

  “Anna, wait, there’s something I have to tell you, now that you are so close to seeing him.”

  “What’s that?” The reception was not good; there was a lot of static.

  “He called the apartment in Paris the same day that you left in December.”

  “Who did?”

  “C-C.”

  “C-C called? And you didn’t tell me? What did he want?”

  “I was out. The housekeeper answered the phone. She said that he asked to speak with you. She told him that you had already departed. He left his cell phone number with a request that I return his call. I didn’t call him back until after the first of the year. When I did…it was after you had announced your engagement to Mark, chérie. Alors, I told him not to attempt to call you again.”

  Anna was silent, thinking.

  “Monique, did you tell him I was engaged?”

  “Yes, of course. You know I never liked him. I really wanted to wound him, you know, like he had wounded you. I’m afraid I was playing the anti-heroine. I really was cruelle.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”

  “I know I should have. I’m truly sorry. It is not like me to keep such things to myself. I’ve had insomnia for months over it. I didn’t think it would matter, until…well, now that you are going to see him again, you should at least be aware that he did try to contact you.” There was more static. Monique’s voice was barely audible.

  Anna was forgiving of her friend. “You’re cutting out, Monique. I appreciate how difficult it must be for you to tell me this now.”

  She could barely hear Monique say, “I hope everything works out, chérie. I’ll be thinking about you. Bonne chance!” and she was gone completely.

  “Au revoir,” Anna said to the dead phone as she lobbed it onto the passenger seat.

  A soft breeze tossed her hair as she stood for a moment, soaking up the sun. It had been almost a year since she had arrived in France to search for C-C. She had finished the book Pas de Deux since returning to California in December. It had been released to the market quickly. Harry had taken a risk and had several hundred copies in English shipped to Europe with the first printing. They had all sold. That, she reflected now, is the only good thing about my life that has happened since Mark and I broke up. Their relationship had seemed so perfect when he had presented her with the beautiful engagement ring on a stormy December evening in Paris. They had had a romantic few days, after which they had flown home and announced their engagement to his family. Everything was going well for them. She was working feverishly on her book. It seemed like life couldn’t get better.

  Then, in June, things had started to unravel. She was on a whirlwind book tour in Seattle, the next-to-the-last stop before returning to California. She had called Mark before going to bed. The subject of a date for the wedding came up again. He had been pressing her to fix a date. Now his mother was in on it also.

  “Mama wants to know if October is good. She’s wanting to begin the planning.” It was understood that the wedding would be at his parents’ immense Bel-Air estate. Anna had wanted a small, intimate wedding, but the Zennelli clan was large, and Catholic. A big Italian gathering would be required, she had been told.

  “I…I don’t know, Mark. I’m tired. Let’s talk about it when I get home.”

  “Christ, Anna. You keep putting me off every time I bring it up lately. One would think that you don’t want to get married.”

  “Oh, Mark. I just don’t want to talk about it now.”

  “It’s because you’re not sure, isn’t it?”

  “Look. I mean it. Let’s not talk about this over the phone. I’ll be in San Francisco tomorrow. Harry’s got dinner lined up for the evening. It’ll be late, so don’t expect me to call. Can you pick me up at LAX at noon on Thursday?”

  There was silence, then he said, “Sure, course.”

  Things had gotten more heated when she arrived in Los Angeles. When the subject of the wedding came up again, Mark accused her of holding back on him.

  “There’s something you haven’t told me, Anna,” he had said. “I’ve sensed it ever since Paris.”

  “What…what is it that you’ve sensed?”

  “I thought it was because you hadn’t found your grandfather, that you were preoccupied with that.”

  “Well, that’s part of it. It’s …it’s just that I…”

  “You what?”

  “I don’t know precisely how to tell you.” She hadn’t meant to hurt him.

  “Tell me what?”

  “That there was someone else. Someone before you.”

  Mark had looked confused. “Someone. You mean a man?”

  “Yes.”

  “Whom you were in love with?”

  “Yes, I guess…”

  “You guess?”

  “Mark, let it go. It was a long time ago.”

  “In France?”

  She hadn’t
answered him. He had understood, she now realized. She had deceived herself into believing that she was having trouble making the commitment because she was tired from the book tour and the business arrangements for her new book. Harry and she had been talking seriously about the subject of her next book, the so-called “Lady Di assassination.” They had submitted a proposal to the publisher that was under consideration. Harry was sure she was going to get a sizeable advance to proceed.

  “Yes, but it’s over. Mark, it’s just that there’s so much pressure on me right now. Harry’s pressuring me on the new book. Give me time. I’ll look at the calendar. Seriously.” But every time she looked at the calendar, she backed away from a date. The subject became more and more heated between them.

  “Maybe we ought to forget the whole wedding thing for a while. Just live together,” she had suggested at one point. That had met with a deadly silence. She knew he wanted more than anything to get married and start a family. It’s what she thought she had wanted, too.

  “You’ve got to get over C-C,” Monique had told her.

  “But I don’t know what happened. I don’t know where he is,” she had whined. “He was into something dark. I know it. The way he ran that night. He was frightened. I called Lucie in Rouen. She didn’t seem to know anything. I couldn’t reach Elise in Paris. He seems to have just disappeared.”

  “Time to get on with your life, chérie,” Monique had told her.

  One day in the midst of yet another argument over wedding planning, Mark had asked her, “Were you with your freakin’ French boyfriend that weekend in December when I couldn’t reach you?”

  She had never told him where she had been.

  “It was a college affair, a decade ago, Mark. We saw each other again briefly in December. Yes, it was that weekend when you were trying to reach me. He had seen in the newspaper that I was doing book signings. We had dinner. The next day we took a drive into the country. That’s all. It’s over. I haven’t heard from him since. I don’t even know where he is, and that’s the truth.”

  “Christ, Anna. Do you still love him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you love me?”

  “Yes, I guess.”

  “You can’t have two lives, Anna. You have to make a choice.”

  She had hesitated at that comment, knowing he was right.

  “Maybe we should break off the engagement for a while,” she had finally said, not believing her own words.

  He had looked devastated.

  “Oh, shit. Anna, I’m sorry,” he had said, pounding the table with his fist. “If it means postponing the wedding for a while, I won’t rush you. I love you too much for you to be unhappy with me.”

  “I need to be sure,” she had told him, after which he had thrown up his arms in frustration and stomped out of the room.

  Then the letter from Guy had arrived with the confirmation that Diamanté had been Elise’s “admirateur,” and she was on her way to Castagniers to meet him, finally. And there would be C-C. He had actually called her in December? Anna searched her soul. Would it have turned out differently had she still been in the apartment that day when he called? C-C had always been like a magnet, drawing her back to him, even when she hadn’t heard from him. In many ways, she had to admit, she was no less attached to C-C for having met and fallen in love with Mark, but Mark’s presence, all-embracing as it was, couldn’t make up for C-C’s absence.

  “This time,” she said to herself, “I know the reason C-C didn’t try to contact me. This time it was Monique who told him not to, not his father.” What must he have thought? Guy de Noailles’ letter had provided the only information about his whereabouts since then. She was crazy, she told herself, to believe that there would be any chance of the relationship working this time. For all she knew, he had found someone new. Heaving a huge sigh, she climbed back into the small car, put it in gear, and wound her way toward Castagniers.

  CHAPTER 52

  Although Anna had researched it on the Internet, she was still unprepared for how lovely the small village was. The information on the Web site had been brief: population 1226, three hotels, two restaurants, a single boulangerie, and a chocolaterie in the Abbaye Dame de la Paix Cisterciennes’ convent. There was a photo of one of the two restaurants. She had wondered if it was the Ajaccio. Well, she would soon know.

  It seemed different, so remote, this world. In the center of the sun-drenched square was an elegant, stone fountain crowned by an artichoke and surrounded by flowers. At one end of the square was the mairie, the eighteenth century town hall, with the French flag flying over the front entrance. The café was directly across from it. A green awning on the old building looked new, “Bar Tabac Restaurant Ajaccio” printed in bold, white letters on its overhang. It was indeed the restaurant she had seen in the photo on the Internet. Several patrons were seated under the shade of umbrellas at outdoor tables. Anna parked the car in the velvety shade beneath a plane tree. She took a deep breath and got out. The scent of herbs and olive oil coming from the restaurant struck her immediately. Lively folk music blared from loud speakers.

  Elise was outside, arranging small bouquets of bright gold sunflowers in blue glass vases for the tables. Her vivid blue eyes sparkled, and she looked ten years younger. “Oh là! C’est Anna! Guy! Lobo!” She called inside as she hastened towards Anna, her arms wide. “I knew you would come. I told Guy you would come.”

  Anna smiled. “Elise, you look wonderful.” The two women embraced, kissing each other on both cheeks.

  Guy came from the restaurant. He was speechless. When he took his turn embracing Anna, his eyes were moist with emotion.

  “I received your letter. Merci beaucoup for letting me know, Guy.”

  He found his voice. “I’m so happy you came, Anna. I was hoping you would. Elise and I both were.” He nodded to a beaming Elise.

  Behind Elise stood a man with dark, piercing eyes who appeared to be in his seventies. A deep scar extended upward from his right temple and disappeared under a black beret. It was unmistakably Diamanté. He came forward with a shy smile on his face. “I appear to be the only one around here who doesn’t know you,” he said in a thick accent as he offered his hand. “I am Diamanté Loupré-Tigre. Enchanté. It seems that your grandfather, enfin, c’est moi.”

  Anna’s eyes teared. She wanted to hug him, but she held back, not knowing how he would feel about her. Instead, she embraced his hands gently.

  “I have come for your wedding. I am so happy for you and Elise.”

  C-C had arrived on the other side of the square just in time to watch the scene unfolding at the café. He could only see her from the back, but he knew at once that it was Anna. He sighed, unable to move; his heart pounded. She was tan; her hair was longer than when he had last seen her, pulled back at the nape of her neck. She wore a short summer sundress in a soft tangerine color with matching high-heeled sandals. He studied her figure: the soft shoulders, the long legs, the sensuous area of her bare back.

  Elise spotted him next to the fountain. She lightly touched Anna’s arm and pointed toward C-C.

  Anna glanced from Elise to Guy and then to Diamanté. Each of them nodded their head in C-C’s direction. Holding her breath, she turned and walked slowly toward the man whom she had feared she would never see again. He didn’t move as he watched her coming toward him.

  She stopped within a few feet of the fountain. “Hello, C-C,” she said, studying him. He was dressed in a light shirt and casual beige trousers. His head was cocked sideways, and his arms were crossed in front of his chest. The gray hairs at his temples radiated in the sunlight. “I came for the wedding. Guy wrote me that you were living here. I brought your mother’s tin box.”

  “I’m sure everyone is pleased that you have come, Anna.” His voice was cold, his demeanor removed.

  “Yes. Yes, they seem to be.” Anna crossed her arms in front of her and looked around at Guy, Elise, and Diamanté, who were all watching her.

/>   C-C dropped his eyes and kicked at the ground with one foot. “Monique told me that you became engaged. Félicitations.”

  Anna uncrossed her arms and took a few steps closer to him.

  “C-C, I didn’t know where you were until the letter from Guy came about the wedding. I only learned today why you didn’t call or write during the past eight months. At least I think it’s why you didn’t try to contact me,” Anna corrected herself, hesitating. “Monique told me what she said to you. I never knew that you had called the apartment the day I left. She never told me. It was hard for her to admit her deception to me. She feels terrible.” Anna yearned to put her arms around C-C’s neck, but he still didn’t move. He continued to look at the ground. “I’m not engaged, C-C. Not anymore anyway.”

  He looked up. His hands dropped to his sides, and his shoulders relaxed. There was a flicker of a smile in his eyes. “I read all your letters…and your book, too.”

  “You should have thrown the letters away.” She shook her head. “Anyway, what did you think of the book?”

  He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “You lied. I was in it.”

  She laughed nervously, remembering the scene in the bookstore.

  “Everyone sees themselves in my books.”

  “Your letters inspired me to write to you. I wrote you once a month. Unlike you, however, I didn’t mail anything.”

  She grinned at him. “I hope you saved those letters.”

  He nodded. “Are you sure you want them?” She thought she saw a slight blush. “They were love letters.”

  Suddenly, nothing mattered to her. She wanted only to be in his arms again. “At this moment, I have never wanted anything more in my life, C-C,” she said as she moved closer to him.

  C-C embraced Anna, catching his breath at the scent of her.