A French Affair (43 page)

Now, as she broke apart the shiny silver paper of the parcel and saw what was inside, she felt tears come to her eyes as she started to smile. It was a French edition of
Suite Française.
She lifted it to her cheek and felt the cool softness of the cover on her skin, then opening it she turned to the title page and saw that he'd written:
To Jessica, from Luc
. Underneath there was the date, followed by another number that didn't seem to have any relevance at first, until she realised it must relate to a page.

As she turned to it she was expecting to find the exchange between Lucile and her German that she and Luc had recited whilst in Issy-l'Evêque, but she soon discovered she was wrong. In fact there seemed to be nothing there at all that made any sense – until she noticed the very faintest pencil line under a small group of words near the bottom of the page. As she read them her heart seemed to fold in two, for she knew what she was reading was a misquote of Keats that might not have conveyed his message so well had Irène Némirovsky remembered the line correctly. What she had written was,
This thing of Beauty is a guilt for ever.

She was just absorbing the words and their meaning, when she noticed a small card lodged inside the wrapping. Breaking open the envelope, she saw that he had written out the correct verse from Keats:

Later, instead of going to the restaurant he'd booked they strolled in the opposite direction to the crowds until they found a small, friendly-looking brasserie with old-fashioned coach lamps outside, and snug, private booths inside. Since there was no English translation of the menu and nothing but good wines on the
carte
they felt they'd chosen well, and when they were presented with a tasty selection of
amuse-bouches
they were convinced.

When the waiter finally went off with their order she looked across the table and said, ‘Thank you for the book, and the poem.'

He held her gaze as he said, ‘You know there's much more I want to say.'

She nodded, and looked down at her hands. Then, bringing her head up again, ‘Would it be so very wrong for us to have one night together?'

He only continued to look at her, searching her eyes, until finally he said in a voice that sent tremors all the way through her, ‘I want to make love to you like I've never wanted to make love to another woman in my life, but it goes much deeper than that and we both know it.'

Feeling the resonance, and truth, of his words she looked away. ‘That's why we can't be together,' she said, her voice faltering. ‘It'll mean too much.' She looked at him again. ‘It'll be a guilt for ever.'

He nodded. ‘If you didn't love Charlie . . .'

‘And you didn't love Lilian . . . They don't deserve to be hurt, but do we deserve this? Neither of us asked for it tohappen. It's not what we wanted . . .' At the note of anger that had crept into her voice they both started to smile.

‘If you want me to take you home now, I will,' he said. ‘I'll make love to you all night long, and all day tomorrow, but we both know it still won't be enough.'

‘But if it's all we're going to have . . .' She stopped, so torn she barely knew what she was saying, except she wanted him so badly it seemed beyond her control.

His expression darkened as he watched her. ‘The decision has to be yours,' he said in the end.

She knew he was right, because hers would be the greater betrayal – her husband, her best friend, and even her children. ‘If I thought it would be just one night,' she said, ‘but it can't, can it? It's already more than that. Even sitting here now, having this conversation . . . Isn't this the greatest betrayal of all? Feeling the way we do?'

He didn't deny it, only said, ‘I don't want to lie to you, or about you, to anyone.'

Understanding what he meant, she said, ‘It's not what I want either. So maybe it has to be enough for us to know that if things were different . . . If there weren't other people to consider . . .'

‘Then I promise you,' he said, a light of irony coming into his eyes, ‘we really wouldn't be sitting here now.'

Charlie was checking his mobile for messages as he walked into the kitchen to find Nikki sending a text on hers.

‘I thought you were making breakfast,' he said, sounding more irritable than he might have had Jessica bothered to return any of his calls in the past twenty-four hours.

‘I am,' Nikki informed him chirpily, ‘I just needed to let Freddy know that I definitely forgive him.'

‘I thought you did that last night. You were out late enough.'

‘Oh don't be such a grump, and pour yourself some coffee. It's already made.'

After filling a cup, Charlie cut two slices of bread and stuck them in the toaster. ‘Have you spoken to Mum this morning?' he asked.

‘No, not yet. She was in a bit of a weird mood when I spoke to her yesterday though, but I texted her later to tell her I forgive her too.'

‘If you ask me she's always in a weird mood these days,' he grumbled, then he brightened a little as the landline started to ring. There was a good chance this would be her, since she often called early in the morning.

‘Dad, it's me,' Harry sobbed. ‘I want to come home and I can't find Mum. She's not answering her phone.'

‘What's up, son?' Charlie said, moving Nikki aside so he could get to the fridge. ‘I thought you were having a great time down there.'

‘I was, but I had a fight with Kieran just now, and he made my nose bleed, and if he comes near me again I'm going to smash his face in.'

‘What did you fight about?' Charlie asked.

‘He said I was dumb trying to speak French just because I'm going there, and then he said I might end up dead too, like Natalie.'

Charlie took a breath. ‘That wasn't a good thing for him to say,' he responded quietly. ‘I think I'd better have a word with his mum.'

‘She knows, and she's made him go to his room and he can't come out till he apologises, and she wants to speak to Mum to apologise too, but Mum's not answering her phone, so can she speak to you?'

‘Of course. Put her on.'

After dealing with Esther Grant and agreeing that it would probably all be forgotten by lunchtime, Charlie spoke to Harry again, told him he'd come to collect him if he and Kieran hadn't made up by the end of the day, then after promising to get Jessica to call him, he rang off just as his mobile started to ring.

‘Blimey, we're in demand this morning,' Nikki commented. ‘I expect that'll be Mum.'

‘It had better be,' Charlie said, going to pick it up, but seeing it wasn't her number his spirits sank again. ‘Charlie Moore,' he said wearily.

‘Are you near your computer?' his assistant asked. ‘I need you to OK some emails I've drafted . . .'

‘Mags, what are you doing at the office, it's not even half past eight . . .'

‘I know, but I'm off to Spain this afternoon,
remember
, so I need to get everything done before I go.'

Sighing, he said, ‘Yes, of course. Give me a moment, I'll go up to my study.'

Ten minutes later, having finished with Maggie he was sitting at his desk staring at nothing, thinking of Jessica, when he heard Nikki coming in behind him.

‘Are you OK, Dad?' she asked.

‘Yes, yes I'm fine,' he assured her, turning round.

‘Your breakfast was going cold,' she told him, putting a plate of sparsely buttered toast and a lukewarm coffee on his desk. ‘I've just spoken to Mum. Apparently her phone ran out of battery. Anyway, she's going to call Harry straight away, but she'll call you later in the day, she said.'

Rubbing his hands over his face, he said, ‘OK. Did she sound all right?'

‘Yeah, fine. You know, normal.'

He picked up the coffee, then putting it down without drinking he said, ‘So what did you mean when you said she sounded weird yesterday?'

Nikki shrugged. ‘I don't know. I suppose she was like, just not her usual self . . . Well, I mean she was, but then she got a bit cross with me, which I probably deserved, but I was like really upset about Freddy, so I didn't need her having a go at me, which actually she didn't, really. She just said I had to try to sort things out for myself, so I did. You know, I think I probably do take her a bit for granted sometimes, but then she's my mother, so I would, wouldn't I?'

With a smile of exasperation Charlie pulled her into his arms. ‘We probably all do,' he said, hugging her close, ‘which is why it'll be good for her to have this time to herself. I miss her though, don't you?'

‘Are you kidding? It's like really strange not having her around. I'm so glad I'm going to uni in London – I mean, if I get the right grades . . . You do think I will, don't you, Dad? Oh God, it'll be too awful if I don't.'

‘I'm sure you will,' he told her gently, ‘and we're going to find out very soon now . . .'

‘But what if I don't?'

‘We'll sort it out. Everyone knows what you were going through when you sat your exams . . .'

Nikki's head came up to look at him, and seeing her eyes were full of tears he smoothed a hand over her face.

‘I miss Nat so much, Dad,' she said shakily.

‘I know,' he whispered.

‘Do you think she's safe, wherever she is?'

‘Of course. In fact, she's probably watching us right now, thinking what chumps we're making of ourselves for worrying about her.'

Nikki smiled through her tears. ‘Mum worries about her all the time,' she said. Then her face crumpled again. ‘Oh Dad, I said a really terrible thing to Mum yesterday. I told her she was sick for being over there, in the place where Natalie died. I know I really hurt her feelings when I said that, and I didn't mean it, but honestly, Dad, I don't know if it's normal, do you, for her to want to be there? I mean, I know she wanted space after that thing between you two, and it's Lilian's home and those two have always been close, but Lilian isn't there . . .'

‘Darling, you're as bad as she is,' he scolded lovingly. ‘You think too much, tie yourself up in knots and never really come up with an answer – but don't tell her I said that.'

Nikki gave a snort of laughter, then looked at the phone as it started to ring.

‘This'll be her,' Charlie said decisively, and scooping up the receiver he used his warmest voice to answer in a way he knew made Jessica smile. ‘The Moore residence, number one slave speaking.'

‘Charlie,' Veronica slurred. ‘Charlie. I want to speak to you.'

‘Veronica? Are you all right?'

‘Yes. I need to know . . . Have you shown Jessica my letter? I want you to show her my letter.'

Gently letting Nikki go, Charlie said, ‘Not yet, I . . .'

‘But you must. Please, she has to see it . . .'

‘Veronica, are you sure you're all right? Is Maurice there?'

‘Yes. He's right next to me. He said I could call. Charlie, please . . .'

‘Can you put Maurice on?'

A moment later Maurice's voice came down the line saying, ‘Charlie?'

‘Yes, I'm here. Is she drunk? It's so early in the morning . . .'

‘She's not drunk,' Maurice cut in, his voice low and firm. ‘We're leaving Capri today to come back to England . . .'

Charlie started to ask why, but Maurice was still speaking.

‘I'm not going to beat about the bush any longer,' he said. ‘We need to talk, so we can either do it now, on the phone, or we can meet. I'll let you choose.'

Charlie's face had turned very pale. ‘I'll be at my office in just over an hour,' he said, turning away from Nikki. ‘I'll call you then to set up a time for us to meet.'

IT WAS LATE
on Wednesday afternoon when Luc and Jessica drove into Valennes. He'd spoken to his father during the drive, so the clouds gathering overhead and undecided wind stirring the vines came as no surprise. Nor, for the moment, was anyone unduly worried about the grapes, as the forecast had mentioned nothing about hail, or even prolonged rain.

‘We sprayed at the end of July,' Luc told her, pausing at the top of the hill to allow a lorry to come through, ‘so provided the
météo
is correct, there will be no threat to the harvest, and tomorrow, so they say, the sun will return.'

Jessica was about to respond when the lorry driver pulled alongside them and wound down his window. Since he spoke in Italian she couldn't understand what he was saying, until Luc thanked him and closing his own window, said, ‘He's just made a delivery from the foundry.'

Jessica turned to him in surprise. ‘Does that mean a new sculpture has arrived?' she asked.

He shot her a glance, then steering the car into the vineyard he said, ‘It's of Lilian.'

At the mention of Lilian's name the light in her eyes dimmed – with guilt, and with a jealousy that made her feel more wretched than ever. She tried to shut it from her mind, to pretend it wasn't real, and thought instead of last night, and how hard it had been to say goodbye to him at the door of Daniella's apartment. They had come so close, so very close to kissing, but somehow she'd made herself turn away, all the time wanting him to pull her back, to persuade her that just one night would be acceptable, as long as no-one ever found out. It hadn't happened though, he'd let her go, which had made her realise how very much he loved Lilian, for he had the will power to stop himself betraying her. She could only feel ashamed of how willing she would have been, had he given her just one sign.