A French Wedding (23 page)

Beth nods. ‘I knew already; about you guys dating. Eddie told me.'

‘Okay, good,' Rosie says, in a resolute but hollow voice. ‘Let's clear up,' she instructs.

‘Rosie …' Helen starts to say, but Rosie raises her hand.

‘Let's clear up,' she says again.

They stand slowly from their chairs. Even Max stacks plates. Then he picks up napkins, some still tightly rolled around rosemary. The others carry in dishes and cutlery.

Max, Eddie and Beth are the last ones left at the table. Eddie takes napkins out of Beth's hands and places them on the table. Beth's back is to Max. Max watches him wrap his arms around her waist.

‘Hey,' Eddie says.

‘Hey.'

‘You sure you're okay?' He looks into her eyes.

‘Of course,' she whispers.

‘You're not just my girl for this week. You know that, right?'

‘Eddie, I have to tell you something –'

‘I love you, you know that,' Eddie says, not listening.

Max looks down at the table, quietly gathering small vases onto a clean plate to carry inside.

‘There's something –' Beth tries again.

‘
That
is
exactly
why I'm glad we have what we have,' Eddie says, stealing a quick glance over her shoulder at Max for reassurance. Max gives a small smile. ‘Let's promise to never get married, never have kids and never grow old and stupid together.' He draws Beth close.

‘Eddie …'

‘Or let's just
keep
being stupid,' Eddie corrects himself.

Beth has her hands on Eddie's arms now. ‘Eddie …' Her voice is begging.

‘Are you alright?' Eddie asks, smile fading.

‘No … yes …' Beth shakes her head and clears her throat. ‘I'm pregnant.'

Eddie doesn't move. Max almost drops the plate in his hands.

Eddie looks at Max.

‘Eddie? Did you hear me? I'm pregnant.'

Eddie is still staring at Max when there is a voice by the door.

‘Max?'

Beth twists around to look at Max, suddenly realising he's there. But Max is staring at Helen, framed in the doorway.

‘Max, you need to come. It's Nina. She just … You need to come now.'

Chapter 16

Juliette

W
hen Juliette recalls her mother's face, the many faces, none of them are the one she wore at the end. She remembers the concentrating face, her head over knitting or a book, glasses at the end of her nose; the laughing-at-your-father face, head thrown right back, dark and grey curls bouncing like springs, eyes squeezed closed; even the bewildered face, asking what was wrong, wanting to know what Juliette was not ready to share. Juliette rarely, if ever, recalls the hospital face, the last one on the last day, the one wanting to fall from her skull, from her body, the one that was ready to go now, please. Pallid, loose and unglued. Tired, so tired. Juliette doesn't allow herself to remember that face. And yet here it is. In Max's lounge.

‘Darling? Darling?'

‘Mum …?'

‘Nina? Oh my God. Nina?!'

In a moment almost everyone is there. Lars, propping up his wife, murmuring, ‘It's okay. It's alright. She's alright.' Sophie with her hand over her mouth. Rosie running to the stairs and calling out, ‘Hugo!' Max rushes in swearing, Eddie and Beth are close behind him. Eddie looks like he wants to keep going, out the front door and beyond. White, twitching, ready to run. Beth and Helen crouch down on either side of Nina; Helen looking up to Juliette and asking. Asking.

‘Juliette?'

Helen is in front of her now.

‘
Oui?
'

‘Who do we call? The ambulance? The doctor?'

‘I …'

The world, tipped for a moment, suddenly rights itself. Snaps back into focus. It is Nina on the floor, a puddle of dark clothes with an odd, greyish face.

Juliette puts the pieces of the scene back together; giving the figures their names. Sophie crying, Lars shushing and rocking Nina gently like she is a baby. Helen, radiant Helen, in front of her.

Nina on the floor.

Nina.

Not Maman.

Juliette finds her voice. ‘I'll get my phone.'

‘She's coming around,' Beth says. ‘Nina?' She turns to Sophie, ‘Go get your mum a glass of water.'

Sophie obeys mutely as Rosie and Hugo appear at the bottom of the staircase. Rosie rushes to her friend and Hugo, stern-faced and suddenly taller, more important, close on her heels. He picks up Nina's wrist with his fingers.

Juliette leaves the room to grab her phone from the bedside table. By the time she returns Nina's eyes are open and her colour is better. The muscles in her face are working again.

‘Who should I call? The doctor?' she asks.

‘I'm fine,' Nina protests.

‘She's much better,' Lars agrees, though he looks like he is about to cry. Sophie passes her mother a glass of water.

‘I don't think she is fine,' Helen says. Her voice is shaky.

‘No,' agrees Rosie.

Eddie sinks into a couch as though he is the one who is unwell.

‘Have you had episodes like this before?' Hugo asks Nina.

Nina waves her hand. ‘Episodes? Not episodes. I just stood up too fast …'

‘She's much better,' Lars repeats.

‘Perhaps, if we move you to the couch, you'll be more comfortable,' Hugo says, authoritatively.

Beth and Helen, as though under direct instruction, help Nina to her feet. She protests again, ‘I'm fine!'

‘Mum. Stop it.'

Juliette turns her head to Sophie. Her face is striped with the tracks of tears, mascara slipping, mouth twisted down.

Lars whispers, ‘Honey –'

‘She's not fine. She's sick. She needs to go to a doctor or a hospital. It's serious. Mum didn't want to tell anyone –'

‘Sophie …' Nina's voice is a ghost of its former self.

Sophie continues, ‘She's been keeping it secret because she doesn't want to find out what it is. She doesn't want it to be bad.'

Nina looks up with an expression somewhere between wounded and confused.

‘How did you … Did someone … Rosie?'

Sophie shakes her head. ‘I'm not stupid.'

‘No …' Nina mumbles.

‘You're sick?' Helen asks. Her lips are trembling. Juliette wants to reach out for her. But Max goes to her and they kneel in front of Nina together.

‘The doctor said –' Lars starts to explain, but Nina holds up her hand.

‘It's okay, love,' she says.

‘She's able to make her own –' Lars says.

‘Lars?' Nina reaches out to cup his face with her hand. ‘It's okay,' she says again, softly. Lars closes his eyes.

Nina turns back to her friends. ‘I need to get some tests.' She looks to her daughter and gives a funny kind of smile. ‘But I am scared. Isn't that right, darling?' Her voice is a whisper. Sophie nods and Juliette can almost see the love between them both, mother and daughter, as though it were a thing. A thread. Electricity. Light.

Silvery, binding, real.

*

They all gather in the driveway as Hugo reverses the car. Rosie is beside him, looking suddenly older, Lars, Nina and Sophie in the back seat. Juliette lifts her hand and Rosie gives a wan smile.

‘How long will it take them?' Helen is beside her.

‘To Rennes? A few hours, maybe three. It is the weekend so the traffic shouldn't be too bad.'

‘I feel sick.'

Juliette nods. ‘I should have gone with them. I know the oncology department …' She feels a hand on her. Eddie gives her shoulder a squeeze.

‘They'll give us a call when they know more.'

‘And Hugo is with them,' Beth adds. ‘He's a doctor and he speaks French. He was speaking French at the market.'

Juliette glances at Helen, who is still frowning.

The car turns onto the road and is quickly gone from sight. ‘Let's go inside. We're not helping anyone out here,' Max suggests.

When the others go to the lounge Juliette heads to the kitchen. There are lunch dishes to wash and food to prepare for dinner, but Juliette suddenly has very little energy. She moves slowly, as though wading through water, from sink to cupboards, hearing the music in the lounge. When Max comes in to get bottles of liquor and glasses, she just watches him. In her mind she sees him, in the dark, on the grass, and wants to tell him to stop drinking, to have a break from it all, but it is not her place. After seeing her mother's face on Nina, Juliette feels a sadness that is so real it is almost palpable. It weighs on her; it's the syrup the air has become. It is everywhere. Plunging her hands in hot, soapy water, to wash the bigger dishes, it is hard to believe she was watching Rosie and Beth do the very same thing just this morning. It had been so unremarkable, so comfortable. Now everything bears the weight of Nina's news.

‘Hey.'

Juliette turns her head when Helen comes in. She reaches for a dishtowel. Juliette passes her a platter. ‘Are you okay?' Helen asks.

‘I should be asking you that,' Juliette replies.

Helen shrugs, unconvincingly. ‘Eddie is right. They will call us. Hugo is with them.'

Juliette nods. ‘I think he will be helpful.'

Helen looks down at the platter.

They continue washing up in silence. They both look out the window towards the garden. It is impossible not be drawn to the view here. Even if it is a bit unkempt, most of the flowers are blooming, most of the trees have fresh, new green leaves. Juliette's father had loved spring. It was his one disappointment about their tiny, village house, that there wasn't a garden. To compensate he had hung baskets by the red front door and filled them with flowers, grown pots of mint and tarragon on the kitchen windowsill, ferns in the bathroom, rosemary, for remembrance, at the front door. ‘So you know which home to come back to,' he'd always said, as though Juliette might forget.

Helen nods at the window. ‘Hugo said something about an island out there.'

‘
Île Tristan,
' Juliette replies. ‘It's in the port, by the village.'

‘Is it special?'

‘Tristan and Iseult? The legend?'

Helen shakes her head. Juliette reaches for the large pot she used to cook the mussels. It still smells of sauce and brine. She lowers it into the water.

‘It's a love story. My mother used to tell it. Tristan falls in love with Iseult but Iseult is betrothed to another man. A king, Tristan's uncle, King Mark.'

‘Does Iseult love Tristan?'

Juliette notices Beth walking outside by the garden beds, hair loose and arms crossed.

Juliette nods. ‘Iseult loves Tristan but they cannot be together because of Mark. Iseult marries King Mark while Tristan and Iseult have an affair. The king doesn't want it to be true but when he finds out it must be, he is furious. Tristan is sentenced to death. Iseult is banished. But on the way to his execution, Tristan escapes.'

‘Does he go after Iseult?'

‘
Oui.
They escape to the forest and take shelter. That is a beautiful bit of the story. The two of them in the forest, together …' It had been Juliette's mother's favourite part. In the book she owned there was an illustration of the two in an embrace, surrounded by vines and leaves. ‘But King Mark finds them. Iseult returns to the king and Tristan promises to leave. He comes to Brittany. He promises to never see Iseult again. Then he marries Iseult of the White Hands.'

‘Another Iseult?'

‘Yes.'

‘That's confusing.'

Juliette pauses. Like Juliette and Violette. A similarity that could only lead to confusion. To disappointment. To heartbreak.

Juliette tries to get the story straight in her head. There are several versions. Her mother had read Juliette the legend in English, from her copy with the soft green cover and embossed Celtic cross on the spine worn from her fingertips, but Juliette had studied the French text in school.

‘Tristan could never love the second Iseult as he loved the first.' She says, swallowing down the familiar feeling of envy she has lived with as long as she can remember.

‘Then, I can't recall how now, or why, he is struck by a poisoned arrow or sword, I'm not sure which.'

‘It's the king who does it?'

In the garden Beth pauses. Juliette watches as she rests her hands on her belly and stares down at them.

‘I can't remember.' Juliette says slowly, ‘I think it's a kind of accident. Either way Tristan is badly wounded. He knows that only Iseult, the first one, can save him. So he sends his friend to find her and tell her what has happened. He tells his friend to sail back with black sails if Iseult is with him and white sails if she is not. The friend goes off to get Iseult. But when the ship is in port Tristan's wife, the second Iseult, tending to her husband, who is bitter and jealous, tells him the ship's sails are white –'

‘When they are black?'

‘When they are black. Tristan dies thinking Iseult chose not to return to him, that she betrayed their love. And when Iseult does arrive Tristan is already dead. She dies at that moment too, with him. She kisses him and her heart breaks.'

With love you don't always get to choose, my dear girl
. That's what Juliette's mother always said. Stroking the hair back from her face, looking at her and into her with so much affection it sometimes felt like too much to bear. Just as Nina looks at Sophie. The full portion of a maman's love. Juliette's mother had wanted so much for Juliette; enough for two daughters. She had wanted legends and love and success and happiness in such beaming, blinding lights that sometimes all Juliette wanted to do was hide in the dark.

‘Sorry. All the old stories are sad,' she says, in a whisper. Juliette thinks of the final part of the story. About hazel and honeysuckle growing, entwined, where the lovers' bodies had laid. She looks at Helen, who is staring out of the window at Beth who is now returning inside.

‘The tragedies stick better. Maybe they're more believable,' Helen says in a strange, soft voice. ‘Excuse me.'

Juliette watches Helen dry her hands. When she leaves she wants to go after her but the sadness, the thick sadness, keeps her rooted to the spot, with her hands in the water.

‘You don't get to choose,' she says to herself.

*

They receive the phone call later in the afternoon. It is Hugo. Helen puts him on speakerphone and they gather around in the lounge to listen in as she holds out her phone.

‘They think it might be a tumour on the cranial nerve.'

They hear Rosie in the background. ‘In English, Hugo.'

‘It effects the ears. And balance. Hence the episodes of dizziness.'

‘A tumour?' Max asks. He and Helen stare at each other.

Hugo continues. ‘She's been symptomatic. Some ringing in the ears, the dizziness of course –'

‘Can it be treated?' Beth asks.

‘It depends. I'm not an oncologist.'

‘What does the oncologist say?' Helen asks.

‘He wants her to go to Paris for further testing.'

‘Can she do it in London?'

‘He wants her to do it soon. He can get her appointments tomorrow.'

‘That soon?' Eddie asks, in a whisper.

‘Rosie wants to speak with you.'

They wait as the phone crackles and is passed from Hugo over to Rosie.

‘Helen?'

‘I'm here,' Helen replies, holding the phone closer.

‘We don't have all the details yet. They need to do more tests. We are going to Paris.'

‘Will you come back here first?'

‘No … It's this exit, Hugo. Helen?'

‘We're here,' Max replies for her.

‘Oh, hi Max. We're on the road now. Nina is sleeping. We're going straight there.'

‘Where will you stay?' Juliette asks.

‘We'll find somewhere. It's only one night. There's no point coming back to Douarnenez if the appointment is in the morning.'