The Woman From Paris (43 page)

“She’s been seeing a lot of Reverend Morley—not because she’s in love with him, but because she’s in love with God. She’s just discovered Him, and He’s making her happy,” Phaedra explained.

“Ah,” said Antoinette. “That makes sense.”

David looked disappointed. “So when I saw her alone with Reverend Morley in her sitting room, holding his hand and listening to him talking about love, it was God’s love and not
his
that he was speaking of?”

“I’m sorry,” Phaedra replied. “I know you were hoping for a big love story.” She looked away, embarrassed, for those words were too close to the truth.

“I don’t think Margaret would ever allow herself to fall for a vicar,” said Roberta. “I mean, you know how snobbish she is.”

David would once have commented,
Takes one to know one,
but he didn’t feel like provoking her as he once had. “I don’t think anyone would ever be good enough for Grandma,” he said instead.

“She’s typical of her generation,” said Antoinette. “Personally, I don’t think it matters where a person comes from so long as they’re kind. Kindness is the most important quality, I think.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Rosamunde agreed, settling down with
her sherry as if she had never left. “You see, in Margaret’s day it was all about class, and one could never be courted by a man who wasn’t on the same social level or, even better, above. Thankfully, life has changed. Besides, one is never too old to fall in love, surely.”

Antoinette looked at her sister sympathetically and thought of Dr. Heyworth. She wondered whether Rosamunde was destined to be alone forever, or whether there was someone out there for her.

They ate in the dining room, and the chatter was loud and vibrant. David sat at the head of the table with Phaedra on his right. Antoinette observed how seamlessly life goes on. Now her eldest was Lord Frampton and seated in her husband’s old chair. The family was still there; they had simply moved around a place. One day their children would sit in
their
seats, and life would go on in the same way. She never thought that the hole George left could be filled, but it had, and they were now building upon it as upon the ruins of an old civilization. And so the generations would continue to come and go as they always had. George was simply one small brick in the ever-expanding metropolis of life, as were they.

She noticed the frisson between David and Phaedra as they laughed and whispered to each other—their heads inclining, almost touching; their gazes heavy and full of significance. She recognized love when she saw it, and now there was no doubt in her mind that Phaedra and David had strong feelings for each other. She knew it was an impossible relationship and wished that Phaedra was not George’s daughter but a girl David had met and brought home for the weekend. As it was, there was no way the two of them could ever love each other freely. They were imprisoned forever by George’s DNA.
What a waste,
she thought, and glanced around the room at the rest of her family. She wondered whether she was the only one to notice.

At the end of dinner she stood up to make an announcement. The room fell silent. “I’m glad you’re all here this weekend, because I have something I’d like to share with you. Will you come into the sitting room with me?”

Everyone exchanged baffled looks but did as she requested. Harris
had already placed a tray of tea and coffee on the table in the corner. The family settled on the sofas and chairs, and Tom switched on the television. Antoinette gave him the disc. “I received this on Tuesday, but didn’t want to watch it alone. It’s the last footage of George before he was killed. Julius Beecher sent it to me as he was skiing with him the week before.” She wrung her hands anxiously. “I’m not sure whether it’s a good idea or a bad idea, but now I have it, I feel compelled to watch it. Perhaps it will reassure us all that George was taken doing something he loved.”

Phaedra suddenly felt nauseous. Anything to do with Julius Beecher now made her intensely suspicious. She folded her arms to dull the noise of her thumping heart and hoped her fears were wrong. As the DVD came on she felt her hands begin to sweat, and the knot in the pit of her stomach grew tight again. No one said a word. They watched as George’s jovial face materialized on the TV screen—rugged, handsome, and happy. Antoinette put a tissue to her eye and sniffed.

“Julius, will you switch that thing off!” George said, then laughed, his teeth white against the black of his helmet and the deep tan of his skin. He then turned and skied off down a narrow couloir, where David, Tom, and Phaedra had skied a few weeks before. His style was strong and effortless, as if skiing were as easy as walking. The slope was extremely steep, but George hopped down, his powerful body moving through the snow like a young athlete. He reached the bottom and whooped with joy, pushing his goggles up onto his helmet, taking deep breaths. He waved at Julius and shouted something inaudible. Andy, his regular guide, followed after, as adept as George, his red ski suit bright in the glare of the snow.

Julius then turned the camera on himself. “So here we are again, George, Andy, and me, doing what we do best. It’s a warm four degrees, but the snow is great on the north slopes and there’s a lot to be had. It’s not for the fainthearted, but that’s what George likes best. Better get on, the boss is shouting at me.” He gave a cheesy grin, his round face pink and shiny. The screen went black only to come to life again a moment later on another part of the mountain.

The family watched, mesmerized, as George teased Julius playfully, spoke to the camera, and larked about. No one dared look at anyone else for fear of catching tears that might be infectious. There was a great deal of footage—of them climbing and drinking sloe gin at the top from George’s silver hip flask, descending formidable slopes and skiing over smooth meadows into the village of Serneus. Antoinette bit her fingernails as she watched her husband enjoying himself, unaware that as little as a week later he’d be dead.

Tom took his mother’s hand. She smiled at him gratefully, then turned her glistening eyes back to the TV screen. Phaedra felt like crying as well, but she was too scared. Her jaw was so stiff it had begun to ache. She had a horrid feeling that those clouds she had sensed earlier were now closing in.

Once again Julius turned the camera on himself. “Here we are now at the top of the Gameinde Boden. It’s been a long climb but worth every step, for there below us are miles of virgin slopes. Oh, it’s going to be good!” he exclaimed excitedly. Then in the background George’s voice could be heard on the telephone.

At first it didn’t sound significant. His voice was muffled against the wind and Julius’s cheerful chatter. But then the wind dropped, and Julius got distracted by something Andy was pointing at. “Darling, I love you,” George was saying. Once again Julius’s voice spoke over George’s so it was impossible to hear what George said next. Tom grinned at his mother, assuming he was speaking to
her
, but Antoinette had frozen as if she were made of ice. “It’s as simple as that . . .” George continued. “No, my darling, as I said, I was going to tell you but I didn’t want to spoil what we have . . . I was going to tell you, I promise. Nothing changes the way I feel about you . . . No, you’re wrong, you are more than that . . . You have to forgive me . . .” He was begging, clearly distressed. “Please, darling, forgive me . . .”

The room suddenly turned cold, and everyone sat petrified with shock, unable to tear their eyes off the screen. Rosamunde looked at her sister, whose face was as pale as uncooked dough.

“I told you, I never lied, I just didn’t tell you the truth . . .” George continued. Julius had stopped talking as if he, too, wanted to hear
George’s conversation. He turned the camera around and began to film Andy. Their conversation then smothered George’s. The screen went black again. It ended there, leaving everyone dazed and bewildered and very embarrassed.

“Whom was Dad speaking to?” Joshua demanded. They all looked at one another blankly. Tom shrugged. Antoinette began to cry. Rosamunde’s face had darkened with indignation.

Phaedra squeezed David’s hand, then let it go. Julius had got his revenge, as she knew he would. She stood up. “He was speaking to me,” she replied steadily. The eyes that turned on her were fierce in their condemnation. David went gray, as if he had aged ten years in a single moment.

“You, Phaedra?” Antoinette gasped.

Phaedra dropped her gaze onto Roberta’s smug face. “You were right, Roberta. I’m not a Frampton,” she stated simply.

“What did I tell you?” Roberta exclaimed triumphantly. She shot her husband a reproachful look. He was too appalled to respond.

“But you’re wrong in that I never wanted any money from George and certainly not those beautiful sapphires. I never wanted anything but George’s love.”

“God, Phaedra! How could you?” Tom cried out as his mother began to sob. “We trusted you!”

“Let her speak,” said David. His composure was chilling. Phaedra didn’t know whether she could continue. She had now lost everyone dear.

“I’m not George’s daughter,” she went on, clenching her jaw to restrain her despair. “I was his lover.” There was a collective gasp, but Phaedra continued bravely. She wanted to come clean and tell them the whole story. Since they all looked too traumatized to speak, she had the floor to herself. “We met a year and a half ago when I was photographing in the Himalayas. I didn’t realize he was married because he never told me. I was living in Paris, and he came over from time to time. I never had any reason to mistrust him. I moved to London a month before he was killed, to be close to him. There I found out he was married. Not because someone told me, but because I was
researching my book on the Internet and his name came up in connection with an article about British climbers. I went mad. I loved him, but I couldn’t be with another woman’s husband. So I finished it, but George wouldn’t hear of it. He tried to win me back. He told me he was going to include me in his will and give me those family sapphires. It was a gut reaction and one I’m sure he would have reversed, had he lived. I now realize what an impulsive, fickle man he could be. I told him I didn’t want anything from him, just the one thing he couldn’t give me. But George went off skiing with Julius. He thought I’d come round, given a bit of time to reflect. He called me constantly, but my answer was always the same.” She took a deep breath. A small part of her felt relieved not to have to lie anymore. “When he died, I was left no alternative but to invent a story. You were going to find out the truth unless I hid it, and I couldn’t bear for his family to be hurt. If he hadn’t changed his will, none of you would ever have known.” She looked at Antoinette’s streaming eyes, and her heart faltered. She swallowed hard to contain her own tears. “Julius came up with the idea for me to pose as George’s daughter. On our second trek a man at base camp assumed we were father and daughter, so I called George Dad as a joke. That gave Julius the idea. It was the only way. I meant to come down only once and meet you all. I never expected to return. I certainly never expected to love you the way I do. Perhaps I should have gone straight back to Paris. You’d never have met me, and you would have discovered that George had been unfaithful only when the will was read. I did what I thought was right at the time—I never imagined I’d live to regret it so much.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand. She couldn’t look at David. His silence said more than words ever could.

“So who’s your real father?” Joshua asked, his face hard and unforgiving.

“Jack was my father. He left when I was ten, and I never saw him again. He died a few years back, in New Zealand.” The cold weight of their stares was too much to carry. “I think I’d better go,” she said quietly. No one stopped her. They watched her leave and close the door behind her.

Phaedra ran across the fields to David’s house, her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. She looked back every few minutes and searched the darkness for David, hoping that he might come running after her. But he didn’t appear, and through her tears she saw the place she loved disappear into a watery blur. She had gambled and lost everything.

Back at the house the sitting room was frozen in stunned silence. David put his head in his hands. He had never felt such despair. Phaedra was not his blood after all, but she had been his father’s mistress. He didn’t know which was worse. Either way, he could never have her. Once again fate had given with one hand and taken with the other.

Antoinette stared at the blank television screen and felt the peace she had worked so hard to find turn into a fiery ball of devastation. Her world was reduced to ruins, and the girl she had grown to love was at the very center of it. She knew she’d never forgive her.

Rosamunde was the first to speak. “How dare she come into your home, accept your hospitality and the warmth of your embrace, knowing all the time that—” She couldn’t articulate the words. It was so horrendous as to be rendered unspeakable.

“I’m so sorry, Mum,” said Tom, putting his arm around her. “I loved Dad, but frankly, what a shit.”

“How could he do that?” Joshua mumbled.

“How could Phaedra . . .” Antoinette sniffed, then broke down in tears again.

“She lied to us,” said David, only now understanding her relief when the only lie he had discovered in Switzerland was the age on her passport.

“I thought she was such a good thing,” said Tom. “What a bitch!”

“Oh dear, I do so hate being right,” said Roberta, standing up and switching off the television. “I smelled a rat right from the start. But now I wish I’d been wrong.”

“Darling,” said Joshua, trying to silence her before she said something she’d regret.

“Let me speak, Josh. I’m not going to gloat. God, I’m a member
of this family, too, and I hate to see you all so devastated. I suspected that she and Julius had concocted a plan, but I never in a million years thought that she would be George’s mistress. I don’t believe she’s lying, in which case she was wronged as well. George tried to have both wife and lover and hoped neither one would find out about the other. What a mess! I thought she was after the Frampton Sapphires.”