Wanderlust (8 page)

Each day when she awoke, she had the feeling that something remarkable was happening, and in truth it was, and now she understood what her father had lived and died for, the excitement he couldn't have existed without. The albums had come alive for her, except this was better still. It was her life, not his, and these were her friends now ' and like her father, she was constantly taking pictures.

What were you thinking of, Audrey? Violet had been watching her, as they sat on the little lip of sand at Antibes. You know, you were smiling just then, and staring into space. What were you thinking?

How happy I am. And how far from home this is. She looked at her friend with a smile. She already knew how sad she would be to go back in the fall. She didn't even like thinking about it. She wanted to stay here forever, with the magic going on, but of course it wouldn't. Eventually they would all have to go home. She hated the thought, though.

You love it here, don't you?

I do. Audrey lay back on the sand, her black French bathing suit molding her body to perfection in the sand. And beside her, Violet wore white, with her black hair. Together, they made quite a pair. It was a photograph Audrey would have loved to have taken. She was taking photographs constantly. And when she had them developed at a laboratory in Nice, the others commented on how good she was. Even Picasso said so one day, glancing at the prints she was sifting through. He had eyed them with interest and then looked at her with his piercing eyes. You have talent, you know. You shouldn't waste it. He spoke severely and it had startled her. Photography was something she enjoyed. She had never thought of it as something not to be wasted. But she had been impressed by his tone. She was impressed by everything happening around her, and she loved it.

Why don't you stay? Violet asked as they lay on the beach.

In Antibes?

In Europe, I mean. This seems like just the right place for you. She was watching Audrey's eyes, they looked so wistful now, as she thought of leaving.

I'd love that, Violet. But it wouldn't be fair.

To whom?

My grandfather mainly ' he needs me there ' perhaps one day. She didn't want to say when, but perhaps when he was no more. This had given her a taste of her life's dream. She could always come back. One day. If she was lucky.

It doesn't seem fair, you know, to have to give up your life like that.

Audrey looked quietly at her. I love him, Vi. It's all right.

But what about you? You can't live like that forever, Audrey. And then she looked at her curiously. Don't you want to get married and have a life of your own one day? It seemed so strange to her not to have that. She had loved James for so long. She couldn't begin to imagine life without him.

Maybe. I don't really give it much thought. This is my life. Maybe I'm not meant to be married ' maybe that's not in The Plan for me. They exchanged a smile and lay back on the sand. For the first time she felt that even if she never married at all, it would no longer be such an evil fate. It was pleasant being free, especially here, in the summer of 1933, in Cap d'Antibes on the Riviera.

They went to a party later that night, at the Murphys' again, a costume party this time, and as always Gerald Murphy himself was the most marvelous of all. He was handsome and meticulous, yet he was so much more than that. He was elegant as few men ever were, elegant and imaginative, and so perfect in every detail that one wanted to sit in a corner and stare at him all night. He was one of those rare, rare people whose plumage was so fine, so delectable, that everyone admired him. He had been voted Best Dressed by his class at Yale in 1912, and they didn't even know the half of it then. Twenty years later, he was much, much more wonderful, and his wife Sara was divine. She used to wear her pearls on the beach at Antibes, and insisted it was good for them. as she sat chatting with Picasso in his eternal black hat.

It was a glorious summer for all of them, although less so for the Murphys than years before. They were still battling their son Patrick's TB, but at least they were all there, and there was something special and golden about each day. Audrey felt the magic spell too, as she and Violet strolled along on the beach day after day, watching the children, squinting into the sun, and feeling the sand on their legs as they lay lazily and shared a lifetime of stories and laughter and confidences. Lady Vi was the sister Audrey had never had before, the responsible one, the good friend, older by only two years, and twins in their souls. It was almost like coming home finding her, and something warm and solid was built between them that Audrey had never experienced before. And she valued it more each day. And James was happy to have her around, they were a comfortable threesome, always, and he never showed the least inappropriate interest in his wife's friend. He was a gentleman and a brother and that was all.

What are you really going to do when you go home, Aud? Violet was watching the long, lanky girl with the dark red hair. She worried about her sometimes. She knew what an empty life she led at home, and she would have liked to see her stay in London with them, although Audrey continued to insist that it wasn't possible. She had to go back to California.

I don't know. The same as before, I guess. She looked over her shoulder at Violet with a smile. That's not so bad. But she was trying to convince herself more than her friend. I did it before ' running Grandfather's house, I mean ' . But nothing would ever be quite the same. Never. Not after these golden days with people one only dreamed about, in a place reserved for a magical few. And now, for these brief moments, she was one of them. But for how long? Sooner or later it would all have to end. Audrey never lost sight of that. It only served to make it all more precious to her as July drifted on.

I so wish you could stay on for a while ' .

Regretfully, Audrey shook her head. In fact, she sighed, and squinted up at the sun, I should be moving on next week, if I'm going to complete my trip. I was going to drive over to the Italian Riviera and move on from there.

Do you really want to do that? Violet looked crushed and Audrey laughed at her.

Honestly? No. I want to sit right here for the rest of my life. But that isn't very realistic, I suppose. So I might as well make my way slowly back to the real world. And God only knows when I'll get back to Europe again. Her grandfather wasn't getting any younger, and Lord only knew when she would be able to tear herself away again. Annabelle's last letter had informed her that she was terrified that she might be pregnant again. She didn't want another baby so soon and Harcourt was furious with her. Apparently, she hadn't used any precautions. And her grandfather's only letter had sounded just like him.

She could almost hear him growl as she turned each page. He was complaining about Roosevelt, and assorted local events. He insisted that Roosevelt was doing nothing to help the economy in spite of all his promises of a new deal. and he always referred to him in his letters to Audrey as your friend FDR. and usually underlined the your, which made her laugh. Thinking about him made her sigh again. How faraway it all seemed now, and she glanced down the beach at James as she thought of it. He was walking slowly toward them with a tall, thin man, with hair even darker than his own, gesticulating animatedly as James laughed and pointed down the beach at them. Violet waved and glanced at Audrey with a broad smile, looking immensely pleased.

Do you know who that is, Aud? Audrey shook her head, amused at her friend's excitement over him. He was certainly a very attractive young man, but no more so than the countless others who came and went out of their lives. Violet had begun waving as they came down the beach, brandishing her big floppy hat as Audrey laughed. It's Charles Parker-Scott, the travel writer and explorer. Don't you know him? He publishes a lot in the States. His mother was American, you know. Audrey suddenly looked startled as she smiled. She certainly knew the name, and he was indeed famous, she had just always assumed that he was a great deal older than this handsome young man strolling down the beach next to James. But she had no time for further thought as Vi hurled herself into his arms.

Behave yourself, old girl. That's no way for a married woman to greet a man. James chided her with a swat on her behind but he didn't look dismayed. And Charles was obviously enchanted with the greeting

Oh to hell with you, James. Vi beamed as the new arrival swept her off her feet and into his arms. Charlie's not a man for God's sake. And as she said the words, he feigned chagrin, and dropped her unceremoniously into the sand at his feet, and stared down at her.

What do you mean, I'm 'not a man'? His accent was decidedly more American than British and Audrey remembered hearing that he had gone to Yale, and he later explained that he had spent all his summers in Maine as a child, at Bar Harbor with his mother's family. And he had a strong penchant for everything from the States.

I meant, Charles Parker-Scott, that you are practically family. Vi lay contentedly in the sand, looking up at him as he laughed, and then sat down next to her to give her a warm hug, but his eyes kept straying to Audrey. There was genuine interest there, but he forced himself to be attentive to Violet.

How've you been, Lady Vi?

Extremely well, Charlie. And it will be a much better summer now that you're here. How long can you stay?

A few days ' a week ' . He knew how their summer revels were. He had visited them before and he always had a good time. He was a strikingly handsome man, Audrey realized as she stood looking down at him, wondering why she had ever thought he was an older man. Perhaps because he had accomplished so much ' perhaps because his extensive travels and exotic looks reminded her of her father in some ways.

He had shiny black hair that was so dark it was almost blue, and a smooth olive complexion, huge dark brown eyes, and a smile that lit up his face in an incredible way. He was long and lanky and aristocratic, and he didn't look English at all, Audrey decided as she watched. He looked Spanish or French, or Italian perhaps ' like an Italian prince actually, and he was wearing a navy blue knit bathing suit, and it was easy to see that he had long powerful legs, graceful arms, and shoulders even broader than James's. They had gone to Eton together years before, and the two men had been like brothers for most of their youth, and still were. It was James who grabbed his shoulder now and shook him a little bit.

If my wife will be quiet for long enough, introduce you to our friend. This is Audrey Driscoll, from California. Charles cast his huge eyes up at her, with a smile that would have made any woman melt, and Audrey felt its effect on her too as she shook his hand. It was difficult not to be affected by the way he looked, but she was more intrigued about his books, and she was hoping to talk to him about them later. They talked at length later that afternoon before he went off on a drive with James, leaving Audrey and Violet alone again.

Incredibly handsome, isn't he? Vi smiled, proud of their friend.

You might say that. Audrey laughed. She had been trying desperately not to feel awkward around him all afternoon, yet he was so unassuming and relaxed that eventually one forgot his good looks. But it was certainly difficult at first. It was the most striking thing about him.

You know, he's totally unaware of how he looks, Violet confided over champagne on the veranda as they waited for James. They were both wearing white silk gowns with their deep tans, and Audrey's hair was turning a bright burnished red from the sun. I talked to him about it once, and I promise you, he has absolutely no idea how he affects people. None at all. Actually ' She stuffed some baked mushrooms into her mouth and grinned like a little girl as she gobbled them before she could speak again. It's amazing, isn't it, Aud? I mean you'd think he'd be used to women swooning wherever he walks. But he's so preoccupied with his books that I don't really think he cares. Audrey liked that about him. More than that, she liked his mind. She had previously read two of his books and had been totally enthralled. The other author of his genre whom she enjoyed was Nicol Smith, the explorer and writer, and Charles said he was crazy about him too. They had had a long conversation about him that afternoon. Audrey had found Charles fascinating, as they talked of Java, Nepal, and India. All the places you'd never want to go. Audrey teased Vi as she groaned at them.

I can't imagine what you find intriguing about places like that. They sound wretched to me. Audrey's eyes danced as she laughed at her friend and James arrived on the scene in a white linen suit that looked extremely tropical, with his deep tan, dark hair, and green eyes.

Was she saying something rude again, Aud? He helped himself to the champagne and hors d'oeuvres and turned to admire his wife. My, you look pretty tonight, Lady Vi. You should always wear white, my dear. He kissed her lightly on the lips, ate another stuffed mushroom, and turned to smile at Audrey again. It was nice having her there with them, and now that Charles had arrived, they were really going to have some good times. And by later that evening that seemed an extremely likely prospect. The foursome went to dinner at a small restaurant in Cannes. They drank a great deal too much wine, and laughed themselves silly all the way to Juan-les-Pins, where they went to a party someone had told James about, and they didn't leave until two, after which they moved on, and stopped at another party at Cap d'Antibes, until they finally got home at four, less drunk than they'd been in several hours, and determined to stay up and watch the dawn. James opened another bottle of champagne when they got home and drank most of it himself, Lady Vi fell asleep on the couch, and eventually, singing a rather inappropriate song, James carried her upstairs, which left only Audrey and Charles still on the veranda two hours later when the sun slowly peeked over the horizon and began to come up. As it did, Charles was watching her, with a serious look in his eyes.

What really brings you here? They had been chatting aimlessly for the past two hours, enjoying each other's company, and speaking of the subjects they both loved, travel to the distant corners of the world ' the summer in Cap d'Antibes ' their friends Vi and James ' but now Charles was looking intently at her, wondering who she really was, as she pondered similar questions about him. It was odd to wonder what quirk of fate had brought them both here, at the same time.