A French Affair (23 page)

And that was how she continued to feel for the rest of the evening, tranquil, joyous and satisfyingly absorbed in the heady sensation of being somewhere she belonged, even though she didn't. And she was still feeling that way when Luc and Lilian walked her back through the vineyard to the cottage. Then, for the first time in months, she managed to fall asleep without the heaviness of guilt in her heart, because she was here with Natalie, doing what she should have done long before now, trying to find out why she had sounded so panicked when she'd called her in the seconds before she died.

The following morning when Jessica opened her eyes she was confused for a moment about where she was, until, remembering, she felt the pleasure of it unfolding gently inside her. She turned onto her back and lay quietly watching the iridescent rays of the sunrise reaching into the room, turning the gauzy nets around her into a pyramid of fiery mist. No more than a whisper of breeze was drifting in through the drapes at the open window, while the sounds of busy bird life chirped and warbled through the early morning hush.

She was barely even aware of what she was thinking as her mind, like the butterflies in the vines, pitched and flew, hovered, then soared on to somewhere new.
Charlie, the children, Lilian and Luc, her mother, Jeanne Hébuterne and Amedeo Modigliani . . .

Natalie.

On the nightstand next to her the phone started to ring.

Guessing it would be Charlie, even though it was barely six o'clock with him, she reached over to pick it up.

‘I hope I haven't woken you,' Luc said. ‘If I have please blame Lilian.'

Jessica smiled. ‘Consider her blamed,' she responded. ‘But I wasn't asleep.'

‘That is a relief, because she becomes very frightening when she is woken before she would like to be, and I wasn't sure if you might be the same.'

Jessica laughed. ‘Where is she?' she asked.

‘Would you believe, on the phone to Hong Kong? However, she is interested to know if you would like to walk with her to the village this morning to have breakfast in the café.'

Jessica couldn't think of anything she'd like more.

‘Then she will come in an hour,' he told her. ‘I will bring her as I leave.'

After he'd rung off Jessica got out of bed and walked down the stairs in her nightie. It was short and silky and clung to her slender body as the heat was already clinging to the air. She filled the kettle, lit the gas under it, then pulled the doors open and stepped out onto the patio. The sun's warmth felt as welcoming as a lover's arms, while the vines were as still as a painting, and the sky overhead was an immaculate expanse of blue. Seeing the pots were dry, she filled a watering can from a rusty tap, then walked about the patio slaking the thirst of the flowers that would soon burst back
into life. In a way it was as though something similar was happening to her, for she was aware of a new fluidity in her movements, and an ease in her heart that hadn't been there twenty-four hours ago.

When she'd finished she stood looking around, and thought, if it weren't for her nightie, she could almost be Modigliani's
Standing Nude with Garden Background
. Smiling to herself she turned back inside, where she sat at the table waiting for the water to boil. For a while she became the
Seated Nude
(with nightie), then, enjoying having no demands on her at all, she began reading the carved initials on the table. She knew this cottage had once belonged to Luc's grandmother, and then his mother who'd died ten years ago from cancer. Jessica remembered how close to tears Lilian had been when she'd told her about it. This was typical of Lilian, to feel for someone else's pain just because she loved them, even if she didn't know the person they'd lost. It was one of the many things that made her so special.

The kettle began to whistle, and after making some tea with the lemon grass she'd found in a pot outside, she carried it upstairs where she set the cup down on the bathroom sink while she took a shower. Before she left she'd call Nikki and Harry, or at least send them a text. She should call Charlie too, but she didn't want him to snap at her, or tell her again that she was wasting her time, so maybe she'd speak to him later in the day, rather than let him spoil her mood now.

By the time Luc and Lilian pulled up in the car she was perched on the gatepost wearing shorts and a T-shirt, with her purse and phone clutched in one hand, and a small floppy hat in the other. As Lilian got out, Luc's door opened too and Jessica was touched to
realise that he was coming round the car to say good morning to her.

‘Did you sleep well?' he asked, kissing her on either cheek.

‘Very,' Jessica assured him. ‘I'm sorry you're not joining us for breakfast.'

His eyes were dancing as he said, ‘But then my wife would not be able to talk about me.'

Lilian laughed, and tilted her head back onto his shoulder as he kissed her.

‘I will see you later,' he said, to them both. ‘Have a good day and try to spare a thought for those of us who must work.'

As he drove off they stood watching the car, waving and waiting for the small clouds of dust to settle as it disappeared from view. ‘Well, I don't know about you,' Lilian declared with a gusty sigh, ‘but making love in the morning gives me a hearty appetite. So, are you ready to head off to the hills?'

Chuckling, Jessica linked her arm, saying, ‘I've been meaning to ask, has anyone rented the other cottages this summer? The place seems pretty deserted right now.'

‘Funny, but I had an idea you might ask,' Lilian replied, ‘so I can tell you that the German couple who rent the smallest cottage every August have taken it this year too, but they're touring the Loire at the moment and aren't due back for a week or more. And the others are booked for the odd two or three nights here and there, but no-one is English, so you can remain safely anonymous, which I think is the real reason for asking.'

Jessica smiled. ‘You read me too well,' she responded, ‘but I have to admit the very idea of someone turning up and recognising me . . .' She shuddered. ‘It would feel
like someone was walking into my sitting room, or even my bedroom, I feel so at home here.'

Lilian's eyes glowed with pleasure. ‘I'm so relieved you still feel that way,' she said earnestly, ‘because I want you to come whenever you like and for as long you like. Luc told me to be sure you understand that. He considers you my family, since I don't have one of my own, and so he should, because that's exactly how I think of you. The children too, of course, and Charlie.'

‘And my mother?' Jessica prompted with an ironic arch of an eyebrow.

‘Actually, believe it or not, her too. In a way.'

‘Which wouldn't be maternal.'

‘Not with your mother, no. But I've known her practically all my life, and you know how I always loved her glamour when we were growing up, her spirit of adventure. She always seemed so exciting and exotic.'

‘Just what you want in a mother,' Jessica responded smoothly. ‘Tell me,' she went on, as they walked past the old farm gates to start winding along the single-track road that led to the village, ‘do you think Fernand would mind if I talked to him about the call she made, asking to come here?'

Lilian grimaced as she shook her head. ‘I shouldn't think so,' she replied. ‘He probably won't be able to tell you any more than he told me, though – that she wanted to come for a week at the beginning of June, if the cottage was free, which it was, but then she never called back again.'

‘Or showed up.'

‘Or showed up.'

Jessica gave a sigh and used her hat to bat away a wasp. ‘I think she was intending to come here to collect
something she'd left behind,' she said, ‘or look for something she'd discovered was missing. I might even go as far as to say, something incriminating.'

Lilian seemed doubtful. ‘I can't imagine what it would be,' she said, ‘but if you're right, maybe she found it at home or somewhere else, so she didn't need to come here after all.'

Since it was the only explanation Jessica could come up with, at least for the moment, she let the subject drop and stood to one side as a yellow mail van came trundling along the road towards them.

After Lilian had exchanged a jolly
bonjour
with the sad-looking soul inside, and a few platitudes about the glorious weather, she said to Jessica, ‘So are you worried about her?'

‘You mean my mother?' Jessica replied. ‘The truth is, more than I want to be, and certainly more than she deserves, especially when she's almost certainly hiding herself away to avoid facing me. I must remember to ask Charlie if the neighbour's had any luck contacting Maurice.'

Lilian's expression softened at the mention of Maurice. ‘Dear old soul,' she said. ‘He's adored her for ever, and she's always given him such a runaround. So that's where you think she might be?'

‘Well, it's usually to him that she turns when she's in any kind of trouble, and since we lost Natalie she's been in plenty of that – at least with me.'

Lilian cast her a sympathetic glance, then walked on ahead as they wandered on to a narrow, stony footpath to take a short cut through a shady wood.

They were side by side and about to link arms again when Lilian's mobile started to ring.

‘Sorry, it's the office,' she said, checking the number. ‘I have to take it.'

As she began to speak in French Jessica gradually tuned her out, not because she didn't understand the language – she did – but so she could listen instead to the cheerful sound of the birds and faraway farm noises. She inhaled deeply, drawing in the musky scent of wood and dry earth mingled with the sweet tang of mayweed and wild garlic. As she looked around she could feel the beauty of the landscape as though it were moving through her, and found herself wondering how Lilian could remain so attached to her work when she had all this at her fingertips.

‘Oh, I'll give it up soon enough,' Lilian assured her, when she finally ended her call and they strolled into the picturesque fourteenth-century village. With its narrow cobbled streets, Romanesque church and bustling market square it was so quintessentially French that Jessica couldn't stop herself smiling with the sheer joy of being there, staring at the tricolour draped from its pole outside the centuries-old
mairie
. ‘I'm even looking forward to it,' Lilian continued, ‘but now isn't the right time.'

‘So when will be?' Jessica pressed, as they stopped at a stall to test a home-made tapenade that was spread over a garlicky crouton.

‘I suppose when Luc officially takes over the vineyard. Or when –
if
– I get pregnant.'

Jessica tucked an arm through hers as though to reassure her it would happen soon, then led her over to the
boulangerie
where they bought freshly baked croissants to eat now and a baguette to take back for lunch. The café terrace was shaded by a giant plane tree, and colourfully adorned with hanging baskets of geraniums and trailing fuchsias. When the owner came to take their order, he greeted Lilian with much
warmth and interest in her family, and as Jessica looked at Lilian's happy face she felt her own breaking into a smile. Sometimes, she thought, being with Lilian was so soothing that she could almost believe if she just stayed with her then life would never be hurtful or complicated again – or if it was, she'd be able to deal with it much better than she'd managed these past three months.

When their coffee came they talked for a while about Lilian's upcoming trip, then about Claude and Daniella's concert and Fernand's troublesome heart. Soon, though, the subject returned to Luc, which made Jessica smile as she recalled what he'd said earlier. She was perfectly happy to talk about him, though, not only because she was interested, but because heaven knew, Lilian had spent enough time listening to her talking about Charlie over the years.

The day passed in a heat-induced torpor, through which they laughed and occasionally cried as they took trips down memory lane and relished this precious time together. After lunch, which was no more than a crispy baguette with a salty Maconnais cheese and a chilled Macon-Valennes, they took a siesta side by side on the bed in the cottage, where the mosquito nets were ruffled by the breeze of a fan and the downy pillows were scented with fresh country air.

The ring of Lilian's mobile finally roused them. Jessica stayed where she was, unwilling to move yet, or even open her eyes. Lilian barely stirred either, merely put out a hand to bring the phone to her ear. ‘Lilian Véron speaking,' she mumbled. Then, ‘Oh, darling, it's you. Mmm, I was asleep. Yes, we're having a lovely, lazy day, how about you?'

Jessica listened to the indecipherable sound of Luc's
voice at the other end of the line, then to Lilian's groan of disappointment as she pushed aside the nets and swung her legs over the side of the bed. ‘Are you sure?' she said. ‘Oh, Luc, it's our last night before I go away.' Again there was silence, then she chuckled softly at something he'd said. ‘OK, I love you too,' she said, and after putting the phone down, she glanced over her shoulder to see if Jessica was awake.

‘Is there a problem?' Jessica asked, stretching and yawning.

‘He can't make it back tonight,' Lilian answered, ‘so it'll be just us with Claude and Daniella for dinner.'

‘That's a shame,' Jessica said. ‘What's keeping him in Geneva?'

‘Oh, this client is notoriously difficult. He plays all the
vignerons
off, one against the other, and now he wants Luc to take him to dinner tonight. It'll be too late to drive back, so he's going to get up early in order to be here before I leave for Paris in the morning.' She cast another glance at Jessica. ‘Do you think that means he loves me?' she said with a girlish twinkle.