A French Affair (60 page)

‘This is lovely,' Jessica said, looking down at the three bowls of cornflakes and two racks of toast. ‘I take it I'm not eating alone.'

‘He insisted, and I thought you wouldn't mind.'

‘Of course not. Come on, sit down.'

‘I was wondering,' he said, ‘if it would be permissible to give my wife a kiss for her birthday?'

Hoping her dismay didn't show, she said, ‘Of course it would,' and raised her mouth for him to plant a gentle, lingering kiss on her lips.

‘Here it is!' Harry cried, charging back into the room with a bud vase and single yellow rose.

‘Beautiful,' Jessica declared as he plonked it down on the tray.

‘Dad says you can't open your presents until Nikki's up, or she'll get mad with us all, and you know how scary she is. Well, I'm not scared of her, but Dad is, because he's just a wuss.'

Charlie gave him a playful punch, which made him shriek and roll over on the bed.

‘Can I take my cornflakes to my room?' he asked, bouncing up again. ‘I have to watch my programme, and there's no TV in here.'

‘Harry, this is Mum's birthday . . .'

‘Oh, let him go,' Jessica said.

Charlie watched him carry his bowl carefully out to the landing, then getting up he went to close the door behind him.

Jessica reached for her Buck's Fizz, hoping the closed door didn't signify anything she'd rather not get into.

‘Happy fortieth,' he murmured, picking up his own glass and clinking it to hers.

Grimacing, she said, ‘How did I get to be so old?'

He smiled and took a sip of his drink. ‘I wanted to
tell you about your present while we were alone,' he said. ‘I don't have it yet . . . You'll understand why when I explain what it is, I just thought you should know about it before Nikki and Harry, rather than at the same time.'

Realising she was closer to dreading what it might be, than feeling excited, she forced a playful look of intrigue as she said, ‘I can't wait.'

‘I've decided,' he began, ‘to buy your mother's house for you. You've always wanted a place in the country, and I thought it would be perfect to . . .' He stopped as he registered how her expression had changed. ‘What?' he said anxiously. ‘Have I got it wrong?'

‘No, it's just . . .' Grasping at anything, ‘We don't have that kind of money.'

‘I do if I take out a mortgage, and I thought it could be somewhere just for you, a kind of bolt hole where you could go to write, or get away from us, or even invite us if you felt in the mood.'

‘Charlie, no,' she said, trying to hold back the panic. ‘You can't. It's too much . . .'

‘Nothing's too much for you,' he said, taking the glass from her hand. ‘I want to try . . . Oh God, Jessica, please don't cry . . .'

‘I'm not,' she said, closing her eyes as she put her head back against the pillows. ‘I'm fine. It's just . . .' She didn't say any more, because her heart was too full of words and feelings she could never speak aloud, especially not to him.

He continued to look at her, confusion and helplessness clouding his expression. ‘Jessica?' he whispered, reaching for her hand. ‘Why are you crying? What have I done?'

She shook her head and turned her face away. ‘I'm not crying, and you haven't done anything. It's just me . . . I guess I'm tired and . . .' She shook her head again, knowing it was safer to keep her thoughts inside.

For a while he simply held her hand loosely in his, not sure what more he could do, until finally he said, ‘It's him, isn't it? You're thinking about him.'

Just that one small allusion to Luc caused her heart to fill up with so much longing that there was no more she could do to stop the tears. ‘Yes. No,' she answered, still trying to fight them back. ‘It doesn't matter. It's a lovely present, Charlie. I wish I could take it, but . . . Please, don't do it. Apart from anything else it's something we need to discuss and think about, not jump straight into.'

‘But I thought you loved the house.'

‘It's very nice, but . . . The thought was enough. You don't have to buy it. I don't want you to. I just . . .' Once again she couldn't go on.

He looked away, then as though he were staring into a void he said, ‘We're not going to make it, are we? I know you're trying, but in your heart you can't forgive me, and I don't blame you.'

‘Ssh,' she said, reaching for his hand. ‘Of course we're going to make it. It's just not going to be easy. We always knew that, but now you're starting to feel better . . .' ‘You don't want me near you. I can tell . . .'

‘That's not true,' and pushing aside the tray she pulled him down into her arms so that his head was resting in her lap.

For a long time neither of them spoke again, and as she stroked his hair, feeling the silky softness of it running through her fingers she thought of all the
years she'd loved him, all the wonderful times they'd shared, and how blessed they had been in so many ways. It had never seemed possible thatone day she might feel about him the way she did now, but then she'd never dreamt that one day they would lose a child, or that he would behave the way he had. However, they had to put that behind them, because though she no longer loved him the same way, and knew she might never truly forgive him, for her own sake as well as for his and the children's, she had to continue to try.

It was a bitterly cold day as Daniella left her father in the kitchen and went outside to find Luc. The vineyard was shrouded in a fine silvery mist, making it impossible to see much further than the first dozen or so rows, and the ground was damp and peppered with frost. Most of the vines had been brutally pruned by now, reducing them to short, gnarled stumps, devoid of leaves and fruit, and the woods on the horizon were blurred and skeletal like winter ghosts.

She found him just inside the
cave
talking to Jean-Marc and Phillippe Court, the oenologist, who'd come for a blending of the
pinot noir
. All three men were wearing padded jackets to keep out the cold, and their mouths were stained red from the morning's tasting.

As they turned to see who was coming Daniella smiled and went to greet Phillippe and Jean-Marc, then waited for Luc to say goodbye before linking his arm to start back to the house.

‘So how was Paris?' he asked, gazing down over the valley into the mist.

‘Paris was fine,' she answered. ‘I got back last night.'
Then coming straight to the point, ‘I saw Lilian while I was there.'

He only nodded, giving no indication of whether he was surprised or not.

‘She's not coming back, is she?' she said.

‘No,' he replied.

She cast him a look, but his expression was impenetrable.

‘She told me what happened at the cottage before Natalie died. And after. Is that why you asked her to leave?'

His eyebrows rose. ‘She told you I asked her to leave?'

‘No. I just thought you might have, considering . . .'

‘It was her decision to go.'

‘But you didn't try to stop her?'

‘No.' They walked under the bare frame of the pergola. ‘When she lost the baby,' he said, ‘even before that, things were no longer the same between us. You must have noticed, or she must have told you.'

‘Yes, she did.' She stopped before they reached the door. ‘She says it's because you're in love with Jessica.'

At that his expression became more withdrawn than ever.

‘Is it true?' she prompted.

Looking at her, he said, ‘When Lilian told me what had happened at the cottage, how she and Charlie had run away, and then lied . . .'

Daniella interrupted him gently. ‘Lilian left because you're in love with someone else,' she said. ‘If she's prepared to face it, then you should too.'

His eyes showed only how closed he was to her words. Then, seeming to understand what this was
really about, he said, ‘Daniella, I don't want you to interfere . . .'

She took a breath to protest.

‘No, I know you,' he said, ‘and I won't have it, do you hear me? Jessica's married . . .'

‘Yes, but . . .'

‘Let's stop this, Daniella. For Jessica her children have to come first, and that's an end to it.'

‘So what are you going to do, shut yourself away here?'

‘What I do is my concern, and believe me I have plenty more to do than shut myself away. Now, I want you to swear to me that you will not interfere in this.'

‘I am only saying . . .'

His eyes darkened.

‘OK, I swear,' she said, reluctantly, ‘but if I should find out . . .'

Then she jumped as he said, ‘
Mon Dieu!
This is hard enough already, can't you see that? And you're just making it worse.'

‘I'm sorry. I . . .'

‘That's what it'll be like for Jessica if you go behind my back and contact her,' he cut in. ‘You'll make it worse. So remember you've given your word,' and pushing open the door he walked into the house.

‘Wow, look at you,' Nikki said admiringly, coming into the bedroom to find Jessica in a chic black evening dress and two small diamonds in her ears that matched the solitaire around her neck. ‘Where are you going?'

Jessica held up a hand to show she was on the phone. ‘Yes, Mum, the turkey's ordered, and the smoked salmon and the ham,' she was saying. ‘OK, I'll make apudding if you want me to . . . Yes, yes. You
know we've been over this . . . All right, all right, I'm listening . . .' She glanced at Nikki, who was shrugging off her coat, and winked.

In the end, deciding her mother had run through the Christmas shopping list enough times for today, she said, ‘I'm sorry, I have to go now, but I'll be available for the same call from about ten o'clock tomorrow, and every day for the next eighteen days until you've driven me so crazy I'll end up coming down there to stuff you in the oven, never mind the flaming turkey.'

‘Oh, we're getting along so well these days, aren't we?' Veronica laughed at her end. ‘Have a lovely time wherever you're going. Love to everyone.'

‘So where are you going?' Nikki asked, sinking down on the bed as Jessica rang off.

‘I'm meeting Dad and Ernest Schultz for cocktails and dinner,' Jessica answered, applying a delicate shimmer to her lips.

Nikki's eyes rounded. ‘You mean
the
Ernest Schultz, who practically owns America?'

‘Only in a news sense,' Jessica responded.

Nikki shrugged. ‘Well, that's enough, isn't it? Anyway, it's good that you're going out. You haven't been anywhere for ages, you two. I take it Dad's going straight from work?'

Jessica nodded as she began hunting round for her purse.

‘He really seems a lot better now, doesn't he?' Nikki said. ‘It's like everything's back to normal.'

Detecting something odd in her tone, Jessica looked up.

Nikki tried to smile, but her mouth couldn't quite make it.

‘What is it?' Jessica asked softly.

Nikki shook her head. ‘Nothing. I mean, it
is
all back to normal, isn't it?'

‘I think so, more or less,' Jessica replied carefully. Nikki didn't need to know that in spite of sharing abedroom again, and putting on a united front where necessary, she and Charlie were as far from properly reconciled as they'd ever been. ‘Why do you ask?'

Nikki took a breath, and said, ‘I just wondered . . . I mean, I'm not planning to do anything yet . . . But well, like, Freddy's really keen for me, you know, that we . . . I just wondered, how would you take it if I said I wanted to move out?'

Though Jessica's heart turned over with dread, she managed to keep only tenderness in her eyes as she said, ‘You're eighteen now, so I'd expect you to want a place of your own.'

‘But would you be all right if I went?'

‘Darling, you must stop assuming responsibility for me and think of yourself. I can cope, honestly. You've seen how well Dad's doing, and I've got my book and Harry – and
my mother
 . . .'

Nikki smiled, but it was soon gone again. ‘I'm just worried about you being lonely,' she said.

Jessica laughed. ‘How can I be lonely when I've got Harry and Dad?'

‘I don't know. You just seem it sometimes, and I think . . .' She hung her head.

‘What do you think?' Jessica prompted gently.

Nikki shook her head.

‘Come on. Out with it. Remember, you can tell me anything.'

Nikki's eyes came up to hers. ‘I think you miss Lilian, well you're bound to, in spite of everything,
because you two were like sisters, and if I go it'll be like you haven't got anyone . . .'

‘Oh darling,' Jessica said, going to kneel in front of her. ‘I take it you're not intending to cut me off, and never come to visit. In fact, we'll probably end up seeing even more of one another.'

Nikki inhaled deeply and looked down at their joined hands. ‘Do you ever hear from Lilian?' she asked.

Jessica shook her head, and wondering if Nikki's bleak mood might have something to do with how much
she
was missing Lilian, she said, ‘You know, she's still your godmother, so if you want to be in touch with her . . .'

Nikki recoiled. ‘No way! Not after what she did with Dad. I hate her for that, but even worse was the way she left Natalie . . . I can't ever forgive her for that.'

Jessica sighed. ‘I doubt she's able to forgive herself either,' she responded gently.

Nikki averted her eyes. ‘Anyway, she'll have her own baby soon, so she won't be thinking about us,' she said tightly. ‘
If
she's managed to stay pregnant, and she hardly deserves to when we've lost Natalie . . .'