Secrets From the Past

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  As she drew to a standstill, Cara fumbled in her pocket, pulled out a tissue, wiped her face. ‘That was a helluva run. I hope I haven’t been too excessive with Zac.’

  I laughed, mostly because she looked so worried, and obviously she knew very well she had overdone it with him.

  ‘He’ll live,’ I told her, my eyes focused on him. ‘But he doesn’t look so good at this moment.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Cara muttered, and turned around, stared at him.

  A second or two later, Zac finally joined us. He was soaked to the skin, I could see that, and he looked unusually pale, and rather diminished.

  I jumped up and took hold of his arm. ‘Are you all right?’ I asked anxiously, peering at him.

  ‘Exhausted. But I’ll be okay,’ he answered in a mumble, forcing a smile. ‘She’s pretty damn fast, that sister of yours!’

  ‘I’m sorry, Zac,’ Cara said, smiling at him somewhat ruefully. ‘I didn’t mean to take you through your paces quite as fast as that.’

  He nodded, and began to walk towards the house.

  I followed behind him with Cara. I said, at one moment, ‘How about some hot coffee and breakfast, Zac?’

  ‘God no! I’m wet through and as sticky as hell. I’d like a shower first and a bottle of Evian. Then I’ll have breakfast with you.’

  ‘It’s a deal,’ I said.

  ‘I’ll join you now,’ Cara said. ‘I need to talk to you about something.’

  TWENTY

  Whenever Cara announced that she wanted to talk to me about something, I usually became instantly alarmed, especially when she spoke in a sombre tone, as she had just now. Inevitably, she had bad news to impart. And I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to hear that this morning. I sought peace and quiet.

  I followed her into the small alcove that adjoined our large, country-style kitchen; it was a comfortable spot to have a drink, a snack or read. We both sat down on the banquette and put our mugs of coffee on the oak table.

  Immediately, I said, ‘I have something to tell you, Cara, so I’ll speak first, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Go ahead. What do you want to say?’ she asked, looking across at me, lifting her mug, drinking the coffee eagerly.

  ‘Harry called me just before you two got back. He wants to bring Geoff Barnes with him tomorrow. I said that was okay, and I hope you agree.’

  I then went on to explain about Geoff, Martha and the situation that had apparently just developed in LA.

  Once I had finished, Cara said, ‘I don’t know him, but it’s all right with me,’ and then she jumped up, went into the kitchen, saying over her shoulder, ‘I need a glass of water. Back in a minute.’

  I sat relaxed on the banquette and bit into a croissant, enjoying it, because for once I’d spread butter and raspberry jam on it. To hell with my diet this morning – I needed a treat once in a while.

  When she returned with her glass of water, Cara picked up where we’d left off. ‘As I said, I certainly don’t mind Geoff Barnes being here for Dad’s memorial evening tomorrow. If I remember correctly, he’s been part of the Global team for years.’

  ‘What do you think Jess will say?’

  ‘There’ll be no problem, Serena.’ After finishing the glass of water, she continued, ‘Actually, it’s Jess I want to talk to you about.’

  There was such a strange look on her face when she said this, I peered at my sister intently, then quickly asked, ‘Is there something wrong?’

  ‘I don’t know, there could be … as far as her health is concerned.’

  ‘What are you getting at?’ I was suddenly worried, and pressed, ‘Is she ill? What’s the matter with her?’

  ‘I suspect she might have the same rare osteoporosis that Mom had,’ Cara announced, leaning back against the cushions, and staring at me knowingly.

  ‘But Jessica’s not pregnant. Or is she?’ I gave her the benefit of a long, hard stare, knowing she would tell me the truth. She never avoided being the bearer of bad news.

  Cara claimed she had to be absolutely honest, couldn’t pull any punches, and this was the truth, she never did. Nonetheless, it seemed to me that she derived a certain pleasure from bringing unsettling news to us all.

  ‘I’m certain Jessica’s not pregnant,’ Cara murmured finally, answering my question. ‘She would have told me. But lately she’s complained of aching bones, tiredness in her legs, and don’t forget that fall she had in the auction rooms recently.’

  I leaned forward, focused my steady gaze on Cara, and said pointedly, ‘But she didn’t break anything, and if she has that kind of osteoporosis, surely she would have broken at least one bone, don’t you think?’

  ‘I do, yes, there’s some truth in what you say, Serena. But she has complained a lot about her aches and pains, and so I want you to do something—’

  I cut in, ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Talk to her. You are always able to get through to her. So please, ask her to have a few tests, X-rays, that sort of thing. And before you say I should do it, I want you to know she doesn’t listen to me about anything, not any more.’

  ‘Oh come on, Cara, I know she listens to you,’ I exclaimed. ‘You’re twins, joined at the hip; closer than any two people I know. It’s always been that way. I remember Mom once telling me that even as babies of only six months you were very aware of each other, that when she laid you side by side in a cot you held hands with each other.’

  Cara shook her head. ‘It’s better you talk to her. She definitely pays attention to what you say. Look, she wouldn’t even listen to me about Allen Lambert.’

  ‘Who’s Allen Lambert?’ I asked, baffled.

  ‘Her boyfriend.’

  ‘Jessica has a boyfriend!’ I was genuinely startled, and I knew my voice had risen shrilly. Why didn’t I know about him?

  ‘Yes,’ Cara answered. ‘I can’t say he’s my favourite, though, and when I said I wasn’t so keen on him, she bit my head off and walked out of the room.’

  ‘She hasn’t breathed a word about him to me, and I must admit I’m surprised about that.’ I felt a small pang that she hadn’t confided in me.

  ‘So am I,’ Cara agreed, giving me an odd look.

  ‘How long has she been seeing him?’

  ‘About a year, but sort of off and on. He travels a lot and he’s not always around.’

  ‘But who is he? How does she know him?’ I probed, riddled with curiosity.

  ‘He lives here, and also in London, and she’s known him for about five, six years. But I guess she only started seeing him twelve months ago.’

  ‘What’s he like?’

  ‘Quiet, doesn’t say a lot – sort of wimpy, come to think of it. But rather good looking, in a blond, English way. He has some sort of PR company, or maybe he’s in advertising, I’m not sure.’

  ‘Has she invited him to Dad’s memorial evening?’ I wondered out loud.

  ‘I rather doubt it. I think she sees tomorrow night as a very personal dinner, just for family. It’ll only be the three of us, Zac and Harry of course. And now Geoff Barnes, but he’s from Global, kind of family in a sense.’

  ‘I understand. Perhaps I’ll meet Allen Lambert over Easter weekend … Look, Cara, I am going to tell her you mentioned him to me. Because I want to know more about him, and I’m going to ask a lot of questions.’

  ‘You can tell her. I don’t care; it’s not a secret that she’s seeing him. Maybe she’ll be more forthcoming with you.’

  ‘Do you think she’s really involved with him? You know, serious about him?’

  Cara shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. As I said, she doesn’t say much, plays it close to the vest.’

  ‘Is he available? He’s not married, is he?’

  ‘No, he’s not married. But he was. He’s a widower.’ Cara made a moue with her mouth, and shook her head. ‘His wife died in some sort of strange way … in Africa.’

  I was about to ask more when Zac strolled into the kitchen. He had showered and s
haved, and his hair was still damp. He was wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt, looking fresh and well groomed, which pleased me.

  I stood up. ‘Do you want me to make you some eggs, Zac? Or will you settle for a croissant with your coffee?’

  He swung around when he heard my voice, and smiled lopsidedly. ‘A croissant’s fine.’ As he spoke he poured himself a mug of coffee, and reached for the milk.

  Cara came strolling out of the alcove with her empty cup and glass, and after putting them in the dishwasher she said, ‘See you both later. I’ve got to clean up and go to the greenhouses.’

  I nodded, watched her go. I couldn’t understand why she seemed disapproving of Allen Lambert. Did she know something bad about him? Had she been trying to warn Jessica about him? I was puzzled, and I aimed to find out more.

  TWENTY-ONE

  ‘So you think Geoff has been deluding himself about Martha, and what she feels for him? Is that what you’re saying?’ Zac asked, half turned towards me in the car seat.

  ‘You’ve got it,’ I said, without taking my eyes off the road. I was driving into Nice, where Zac wanted to go shopping for a few items, and there was heavy traffic this morning. ‘He longed to be reconciled with her so much, he believed she wanted that too. But obviously her interests have turned elsewhere.’

  Zac let out a long sigh, and remained silent for a moment or two. Then he said, in a low voice, ‘Poor sod. He’d set his heart on it, so it must have come as a terrible shock. And telling him over the phone. Jesus! That wasn’t nice.’

  ‘Remember, they are divorced, and have been for several years. He was living in a dream world, frankly. I think he’d convinced himself that she’d come back to him and start again, if he left the front line. But two or three years is a long time for a young woman to be divorced and alone,’ I pointed out.

  ‘You’re right, Serena, but I can’t help feeling sorry for him.’

  ‘I do, too. Anyway, Cara knows I told Harry that Geoff could come for the weekend, and she made no objection. Neither will Jessica.’

  ‘I’m glad Harry’s doing that, bringing him here, and we’ll try and cheer him up. He’s a good man, and I’ll never forget what he did for me, coming to get me out of that risky hellhole in Afghanistan.’ Zac straightened in his seat and went on, ‘And what are Geoff’s plans after this weekend? Do you know?’

  I shook my head. ‘Harry had asked Geoff to hold the fort in London, until he got there to make a few more changes in management. He’s sent Matt White to cover Pakistan, in Geoff’s place, and he has to decide who’ll run the London bureau, until Geoff officially takes over. If he’s still prepared to do that.’

  ‘But surely he will? There’s not much for him in California, if his ex-wife is hooked up with another guy.’

  ‘I hope he’ll take London, but Harry told me Geoff’s been thrown for a loop. I’m not worried about the London bureau; there are a couple of people who can run Global equally as well as Geoff. Things’ll be all right there, no matter what.’

  ‘Pete Sheldon’s pretty good. He could step in anywhere.’

  ‘I agree. Harry and Geoff will be arriving late tomorrow afternoon. Harry’s already ordered a car, so we don’t have to meet them at the airport. Tell me about your run with Cara. How was it?’

  ‘Great. She ought to enter the New York Marathon next October. Talk about speed, she goes like the wind. I couldn’t keep up with her for very long. I guess I’m out of shape. But the run did me good, Pidge. I said I’d go with her tomorrow. Running helps me to let off steam.’

  ‘I’m glad.’ I drove on, silent, wondering whether to repeat Cara’s conversation about Jessica. Immediately, I decided not to, following the rules I’d been brought up with: we kept family matters to ourselves. Instead, I said, ‘I’m going to park the car in Lulu’s little driveway. You remember our old cook, don’t you?’

  ‘I sure do, best food I ever had, except for Mom’s. And she lets you do that, does she?’

  ‘I’m not certain that she’s aware there’s a car there, or that it’s mine – she’s very old now. But her daughter, Adeline, is still working for us at the house, running it. And her other daughter, Magali, comes in to help when we have guests or if Jessica is giving a special dinner or cocktail party. It was Adeline who told me to make use of their drive a long time ago. She’s already called their house this morning, spoken to Lulu’s caregiver, told her that I’ll be parking there for a bit.’

  Zac nodded. ‘It certainly saves driving around Nice looking for a parking spot. When we’ve done my bit of shopping, I’d like to go to the Hotel Negresco, for old times’ sake, buy you a drink. I used to go there with Tommy. After that we can find a bistro for lunch. Okay?’

  ‘That’d be great, Zac.’

  I peered ahead, drove carefully, paying attention when we entered the city. There was a lot of traffic because Easter was looming; the French took this religious holiday seriously, but also celebrated it with great spirit.

  Lulu’s house was in a small back street behind the Promenade des Anglais and, after I had parked, I walked with Zac toward Vieux Nice. The old town was much the same as it was in medieval times, with narrow bustling streets and ancient buildings. We soon found various shops for Zac to purchase T-shirts and underwear, and then we headed toward Cours Saleya, where we passed the flower and vegetable markets, and lots of busy cafés.

  As we wandered on, heading towards the seafront, Zac suddenly said, ‘I’d like to get gifts for Jessica and Cara. What do you think they’d like?’

  I was taken aback for a moment, but then said, ‘They’re hard to buy for, Zac. Even I have a hard time wondering what to get. I think your best bet is perfume.’

  ‘I’d like to do it this morning, Pidge, before we go back to the house. Give them a gift each tonight.’

  ‘No problem,’ I replied. We strolled out onto the beautiful Promenade des Anglais, originally planned by English people living in Nice in the 1800s. Lined with palm trees, it was now wide and stretched for three miles along the seafront; most of the best hotels were located there, as well as many boutiques.

  Turning to Zac as we approached the Hotel Negresco, Nice’s grandest hotel, I said, ‘Dad always told us this was a fairy-tale castle when we were little. And it does look like one, don’t you think? All white, with its fanciful dome and balconies.’

  Zac nodded, gazing up at the hotel. ‘It sure does … let’s go to the bar and toast him. I always enjoyed my little sojourns here with Tommy. It’s one place I got to know a different side of him.’

  Once we were seated in the bar, I told Zac to order mimosas, because the orange juice counteracted the champagne. ‘I’ve got to drive us home, remember?’ I added when he stared at me, frowning. But I was also concerned about Zac’s consumption of liquor. He didn’t always know when to stop, and drink affected him badly these days.

  He suddenly smiled, nodded. ‘Hey, that’s what Tommy used to order!’ he exclaimed, and beckoned to a waiter.

  Within minutes we were toasting my father, and then Zac settled back in the chair and recounted a few anecdotes about him, and their adventures together, doing so with a certain glee.

  I had heard them all before, but I listened attentively, relieved that Zac was his normal self. During the night he had shouted a lot and been restless.

  Before we left Venice, I’d phoned Jessica, told her I wanted Zac to use the room adjoining mine, which had once been used by my nanny when I was a toddler. Jessica had agreed this was a good idea. Certainly, with the door open, I could hear him, as I had last night. I had gone in, but he was suddenly quiet and under the covers. After a few seconds, I’d left.

  Against my better judgement, I allowed him to order two more mimosas, and we sipped them, still talking about Dad. At one moment I asked him where he wanted to have lunch, mentioning a number of bistros we knew. I thought it was time we left the bar.

  ‘Oh let’s stay here,’ he answered, offering me that endearing lopsided smile. ‘I
don’t mean here in the bar, but outside on the terrace. Why go searching for a bistro when we’re in the best place in town?’

  He said this in such a jaunty way, I couldn’t help laughing. But in my heart I knew that he didn’t want to bestir himself. It was a common occurrence these days, almost as if he didn’t have the strength to move. On the other hand, perhaps he was just tired from jogging with Cara.

  It was four o’clock by the time we got back to Jardin des Fleurs, and the first person I ran into was Jessica. She gave me her usual dazzling smile as I walked into the kitchen, where she was busy preparing dinner.

  I knew at once she was making one of her specialties, boeuf bourguignon – beef stew in red wine with bacon, onions and mushrooms. She usually did most of the cooking. She was sometimes helped by Adeline when we had guests, but I noticed Lulu’s daughter was nowhere in sight at the moment.

  I smiled back as I walked over to the long oak kitchen table in the middle of the floor, where Jessica was preparing vegetables. There was a gorgeous smell of beef and bacon floating in the air, and my mouth began to water.

  ‘I can smell that we’re in for a delicious dinner tonight,’ I said, sliding onto one of the tall stools at the opposite side of the table, gazing at my sister.

  ‘Beef stew. I know it’s one of your favourites, that’s why I’m making it, Pidge.’ As she spoke she looked towards the door expectantly. ‘Where’s Zac?’

  ‘He went upstairs to rest. We’ve been shopping in Nice, buying a few things for him, but he seemed a bit done in when we’d finished lunch.’

  ‘That’s possible. But he does seem in control of himself. A bit quiet, not his usual exuberant self, but he’s been through a lot.’

  I sat studying Jessica, wondering how to broach the subject of her new boyfriend, feeling a little awkward.