A Springtime to Remember

by Lucy Coleman

  Mum’s right, of course, and as we chat, I can’t hear any sign of her being particularly down, just sympathetic about poor Elliot and Mia.

  ‘Our interpreter, Ronan, can operate the camera and we’ve found an interpreter who can at least step in on Monday for the next interview.’

  Mum sighs softly. ‘I meant for money, Lexie.’

  ‘Well, we have a small contingency fund, but not enough to cover the costs of an experienced cameraman if Elliot is away for several weeks. As soon as I have a good idea of what time period we’re looking at, then I will consider what options are open to us.’

  Mum clears her throat before speaking. ‘Look, Lexie, I know you aren’t going to want to hear this, but I have money that isn’t doing anything. I don’t want you going into debt.’

  Bless Mum’s heart.

  ‘It will be fine, I’m sure, and I don’t want you worrying about it. I’ll go through the budgets line by line and see if I can do a little trimming; it’s business, that’s all. Budgets are meant to be flexible.’ I try my best to sound light-hearted, but it’s not easy as, to be honest, I’m worried.

  ‘Well, the offer’s there if you need it. There’s something I should tell you, though, and I fear that whatever I say it’s bound to upset both you and Shellie, so I don’t know quite how to handle it.’

  I swing around into a sitting position. Now Mum is sounding agitated and that’s not like her at all.

  ‘Mum, what’s going on?’

  If I was relaxed, I’m not now. A chill is working its way up from my stomach into my chest.

  ‘Oh, dear, oh, dear,’ she sighs, sounding in two minds about taking this conversation any further.

  ‘Mum, stop saying that. Just talk to me.’

  ‘You won’t like this, and neither will Shellie. She’s very up and down at the moment with her pregnancy and I had hoped to wait a while, but things are moving quickly.’

  I let out a frustrated ‘aargh’ and she begins speaking again, almost immediately.

  ‘Jake flew home to the UK a couple of months ago. He sold his house in LA and has bought something over here. I’ve agreed to move in with him and be on hand if he needs any help. Yesterday he rang to say he’s found a purchaser for my house. Eventually, everything I have will be split between the three of you anyway, and even without the sale there’s enough in the savings account to give you all a reasonable lump sum now. And now is when you need it, Lexie.’

  I don’t know what to react to first. The fact that my brother is home, Mum is selling up, or that she’s offering to bail me out. They are all equally shocking and unexpected.

  ‘Mum, I am not taking your savings. Besides, you love that house. You’ve been there forever. Why would you let Jake talk you into selling it?’ I exclaim, my mind quickly visualising a picture of it and refusing to believe she’d let those memories go and sell it to a stranger.

  ‘I rattle around here all alone, when some other family could be making new memories and using it to the full. I’m quite content with the plan Jake has laid out. I will have my own separate accommodation within the grounds of the delightful old property he’s purchased.’

  I can see it in my mind’s eye – Jake has no doubt bought a huge country house with a little cottage in the garden for Mum. But as for being at his beck and call, that makes me angry.

  ‘You might as well agree to take the money, Lexie, because I’m going to give the same to your brother and sister. When the house sells, I’ll invest the capital somewhere safe to earn a little interest, but if you need it at any time, then it’s there for you all. I’m looking forward to having a smaller place to call home and something meaningful to do, which will be helping out whenever I can. I will admit there have been times recently when I’ve felt a little redundant. I know that’s my own fault, but by nature I’m a stay-at-home person. If my children could just make up and move on, I’ll be the happiest mother in the world.’

  ‘So why haven’t you shared this news with us before now? I mean, this hasn’t happened overnight. And why has all of this been done in secret? Shellie will be as shocked as I am about it.’

  Another sigh. A big one. ‘I didn’t say anything because I knew how you would both react and Shellie’s got enough on her plate at the moment. Plus, you were heading off to France and I told Jake straight that he had to wait until the right time for us all to get together. Oh, it just seemed too overwhelming to tackle and I didn’t know where to begin, or how to break the news without upsetting you both.’

  Well, she has a point because neither Shellie nor I are likely to give him the same open-armed reception that Mum has.

  ‘When Jake left the UK there was bad feeling amongst you all, I know that,’ Mum admits. ‘But you, in particular, should be able to talk to Jake about what happened and clear the air. Shellie is only upset with him because of the argument you two had.

  ‘He’s coming home because he’s setting up a new company on his own. Doesn’t the fact that he still regards this as his home tell you something? He could so easily be doing this in the States but, at long last, he’s admitting that he misses his family. That old saying blood is thicker than water isn’t just a few silly words strung together, it means something. For all he’s seen and done, for all the people he’s worked with, your brother has missed being a part of our family.’

  I could scream. There has been no contact with either Shellie or myself in the intervening years and that’s typical of Jake. He’s a manipulator and Mum is a pushover. I take a huge breath to calm myself down and am relieved at how evenly my voice sounds.

  ‘If you don’t ring Shellie and tell her, then I will, Mum. As for talking to Jake, well, tell him when he’s ready he knows where to find me. I love you so much for wanting to dip into your savings, but I know what I’m doing. This is business and there are ways and means of raising funds. I’m happy to risk what’s mine, but I’m not happy to risk your legacy and please don’t take that the wrong way.

  ‘Now put down the phone and call Shellie, because she’s imagining all sorts of things, but it doesn’t include the possibility of Jake coming back to the UK. But please, before it’s too late, just stop and think about what it means to let go of the house. So many memories; so much of the past wrapped up within those walls. If it truly is the right decision for you, then I’m happy, but I don’t want you to have any regrets, Mum, that’s all.’

  There’s a moment of silence and I wonder whether my honesty has made her stop and think.

  ‘My mind is made up, honey. Sometimes there are too many memories here for me to handle. Besides, I’m looking forward to a new challenge.’

  My heart sinks in my chest.

  Afterwards I’m wracked with guilt, as what I noted in her voice was a level of enthusiasm I haven’t heard in a long while. I appreciate that Mum would do anything not to upset any one of us, but she should have opened up about this and not kept it to herself until the last minute. Was I guilty of being so consumed by my own problems that she didn’t feel she could talk to me? And Shellie obviously has so much going on at the moment. Did we leave Mum feeling out on a limb, with no one to talk to, and unwittingly pave the way for Jake to swoop in and take advantage of her?

  Hand on heart, I can’t say an influx of cash wouldn’t be highly convenient at this moment in time, but no business venture is a sure bet. Elliot and I are putting in what we can afford to lose; if we don’t sell the series then we’ve blown our savings, but we won’t lose everything. I wouldn’t risk a penny of Mum’s money, even if she is buying into this totally absurd idea of Jake’s. If it doesn’t work out, then I want her to be in a position to have options.

  My fingers dial quickly.

  ‘Shellie, Mum’s going to ring you any minute with news. Jake returned to the UK a while ago, it seems.’ There’s a weird sort of screech. ‘Pretend you don’t know. She’s going to sell the house and move in with him to become some sort of housekeeper, by the sound of it. Just listen and don’t go
off on one, because that won’t help. We’ll talk more about this tomorrow. I’m putting down the phone as you can expect that call at any moment. Hopefully it’s not too late for us to talk some sense into her, but we need to tread carefully.’

  I can imagine Shellie sitting there, phone pressed against her ear and her face draining of all colour. You messed everything up once, Jake. I’m not going to sit back and let you do it again.

  It’s just after eleven p.m. when Shellie calls me back. I’ve been sitting here in the semi-darkness, trying to focus on the last couple of chapters of Ronan’s book to distract me.

  ‘I’m speechless,’ she groans.

  ‘You haven’t been on the phone the entire time?’ I quiz.

  ‘Yes, I have.’ She sniffs.

  ‘Are you crying?’

  More muffled sniffs and some nose-blowing.

  ‘How can Mum have sold the house without telling us? I can still visualise Dad in every single room and now strangers are going to be moving in. Jake clearly is a cold-hearted bastard to have talked her into this without consulting us.’

  I’ve been mulling it over, off and on for the last two-plus hours. Mum won’t have taken this decision lightly. There are things going on with her and it’s clear that both Shellie and I haven’t been paying attention. We each have excuses we can make, but when it comes to it that’s all they are – excuses. Mum’s well-being comes first and she never makes a big deal of anything, so we have to be on our toes and it’s more about what she doesn’t say than the words she uses.

  ‘Look, Shellie. Mum told me there are times when she feels redundant. Mum, redundant! She’s not one to throw herself into hobbies, is she? As much as I dislike the idea of her appearing to be almost like an employee of Jake’s, maybe something is missing from her life.’

  ‘So, what do you suggest we do?’

  Oh, this is so hard, given the distance between us all at the moment. ‘Look, I can’t get back, even for a quick visit. Why don’t you pop round to Mum’s for a chat over a cup of tea? My biggest fear is what happens if Jake meets someone and they don’t want his mother running his household? Then she really would be redundant, in the worst possible way. Without actually saying that, could you get her to talk through the bigger plan? If she doesn’t mention future changes in Jake’s life – personal, or business-related – then maybe ask if this is a long-term thing. In the excitement of imagining us all as one big happy family again, she might not have thought this through properly.’

  The sniffing has stopped.

  ‘Brilliant idea! I’ll drop round with Maisie tomorrow after school. Maisie will want to invite Lizzie from next door in to play and that will give me the perfect opportunity to have a leisurely chat with Mum.’

  ‘Try to keep calm about this, Shellie. We might have to accept that there’s nothing we can do because the decision is Mum’s, after all. But we need to be sure that she’s aware that there are no guarantees we’ll ever bond again as siblings and that there’s an element of risk in her walking away from the life she has now. I mean, what if she comes to regret selling the house? She won’t be able to buy it back again and that’s the harsh reality.’

  We sigh in tandem. ‘I promise to be gentle with her and not to let my anger at Jake spill over. I’ll let you know how it goes, but it might not be until the day after tomorrow. Drew and I are going out to dinner tomorrow night with some friends, so it will be rather hectic. Sleep well, sis. I’ve got this, don’t you worry.’

  How can I possibly sleep after that? Well, the truth is that I can’t, so I try to empty my mind and continue reading Ronan’s book.

  Maurice Perrin was, it seems, amongst the most influential of chief gardeners at Versailles by the time he retired in 1986. Having a quick leaf through the second book in the series, I see Ronan makes a brief reference to the dreadful storms of 1990 and 1999, and the ensuing devastation that will be covered in the final book, apparently.

  Maurice had dismissed the idea that delaying a massive replanting programme could potentially result in a complete change in the landscape of the park, as far back as the early sixties. But he did support a project looking in detail at the pattern of tree loss going back to the forties. Immediately I saw that, it grabbed my attention. A project about the trees – could Grandma have been a part of that?

  Obviously, one could say that storms of the magnitude of the two in the twentieth century are an act of nature. If the park had been on the edge of either of those storms it could so easily have been a very different story. But the fact that so many trees were at risk and succumbed had been predicted.

  Ronan explains that one of the gardeners in the sixties was adamant that many of the trees had been allowed to grow too tall for the high water table. The roots had travelled along the ground, rather than downwards, which in his opinion was a serious concern as it compromised their stability. The inherent danger for the future was that trees wouldn’t die because of their age, but because they would become unstable.

  But Maurice, for some unknown reason, had a sudden change of heart and the project was abandoned before a conclusion could be drawn. It’s becoming apparent to me, that is the puzzle Ronan is trying to solve. What really happened, because it feels as if there might have been a conspiracy going on. One that targeted Maurice, perhaps as he was a lone voice at the time, daring to challenge the people above him. Having committed to the idea of the survey, was pressure then applied to make him stop?

  Diving into Grandma Viv’s box once more, I decide to try to put the notebooks in some sort of order. To my amazement, as I look at the inside covers and then skim the first page or two, not only does it become apparent that there is a natural order, but also that some are much less about her work. I find one detailing a day trip to Paris and another a picnic by a river.

  Halfway through the exercise, one inscription on the inside cover jumps out at me. It’s an old saying. There are none so blind as those who will not see.

  I always thought it was those who cannot see, which, now I think about it, is actually something very different indeed. In actual fact it’s referring to people who choose to ignore what they already know. Is that because they are arrogant, deluded or have no choice in the matter? It’s possible that Maurice was a realist and had no choice other than to be pragmatic because of funding issues. But I can’t help wondering whether the real reason was that he was ordered to stop and he hadn’t wanted to lose face by sharing that information.

  The first page of Grandma’s notebook reflects the frustration of that time.

  The arguments get worse by the day. We’ve spent too many hours cataloguing, measuring and testing soil to throw away all that hard work and yet today we were told the project has been shelved.

  My heart leaps in my chest. She doesn’t specifically mention trees, but this seems to fit in with the period Ronan was talking about in his book.

  Tempers flared yet again and this time it came to blows. I fear that someone will be sacked after the incident today. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? I have been sent to work in one of the greenhouses and our little group of three has been disbanded for the time being. It always comes down to the same thing. Money. I fear they are in danger of making a grave mistake. But my voice is nothing, because this isn’t my battle. My heart is heavy for those to whom this represents a major defeat. People care so passionately, and I feel privileged to be here, but useless.

  My eyes begin to smart. Grandma felt a real part of what was going on; Ronan and I must piece this together somehow, even if we aren’t going to get any cooperation at all from George. Maybe he didn’t have anything to do with Grandma when she was here, but I’m convinced he recognised her from the photograph. Perhaps they didn’t get on; I veered between glimpsing a wry sense of humour in him and feeling as though we were trespassing, and he wanted to throw us out. Grandma wouldn’t have warmed to that sort of reception, either.

  I make a start on the second notebook in the newly ordered row and
read late into the night, making copious notes as I go. If these weren’t so very precious, I’d highlight sections, but one day, when Maisie is grown up, I want her to read them, too. To see this other side to a lady we loved because of her kindness and selfless nature is humbling.

  If Grandma hadn’t returned from Versailles, I have no doubt at all that her life would have been consumed by her work here. She might never have had children and it makes me wonder how much choice we each have in our own destinies. Is it, indeed, mapped out for us? And if that’s the case, did she ever have even the teeniest tinge of regret in her heart for what might have been? Sadly, that’s something we may never know for sure, unless I can successfully piece together the clues.

  14

  Stepping into a Dream

  Driiing. Driiing. Driiing.

  I open one eye and shift the pillow off my head. The light slanting in through the partially open blind tells me it’s not that early and I vault out of bed. Did I arrange to see Ronan this morning? It’s… Sunday, isn’t it?

  Throwing on a baggy T-shirt over my cotton camisole and shorts, I hurry down the two flights of stairs to swing open the door. Rather surprisingly, it’s Solange’s smiling face I see in front of me. As soon as she glimpses my bed hair, her smile begins to fade.

  ‘Oh. So very sorry, Lexie. You were enjoying a lie-in and I should have considered that fact. Another time, maybe?’

  ‘No, not at all. It’s lovely to see you and I said feel free to pop in for a chat. Coffee?’ I turn and begin walking up the stairs so that Solange can step inside and follow me up.

  As I head straight for the kettle, I indicate for her to take a seat at the table.

  ‘This is a lovely layout up here – very open, I like it. Really, though, I shouldn’t interrupt you. It’s just that I stayed at Philippe’s last night and as I had to walk past… well, I promised you a tour of the palace and I have an hour and a half free this morning.’