A French Affair (45 page)

She'd just put her basket on the back seat when she heard the sound of a vehicle coming down from the house, and turning saw the vineyard
camionette
bumping over the potholes towards her
.
Presuming it was
Jean-Marc, she was about to wave when to her surprise she saw Luc at the wheel, with Jean-Marc beside him.

She waited as he brought the van to a stop, and started to smile as he got out.

‘Ça va?
' he asked as he came to her.

‘Oui. Et toi?
'

He nodded, and knowing what he was thinking as he continued to look at her, she felt tiny frissons of desire moving all the way through her.

‘I was just off to the market,' she told him. ‘I thought I'd make dinner for us this evening. Where are you going?'

‘The rain was much harder in other parts of the region, so we need to make a check on the
parcelles.
I should be back around . . .' He was about to look at his watch when they both noticed a car turning from the top road into the valley.

She glanced back at him in surprise as he muttered under his breath.

‘It is the German couple who have rented one of the other cottages,' he explained. ‘Clearly they have returned from the Loire.'

Hearing that made her heart turn over. ‘Does that mean we . . .? Will that make it impossible tonight?' she said.

‘No, of course not,' he replied, and with a wryness to his tone he added, ‘I have to admit, however, it might have been better if they'd waited another day to come back,
mais, c'est la vie
.' He waved as the Germans pulled into the space reserved for the other cottages, then turning back to Jessica he said, ‘My father will be leaving around three. I hope to be back by then.'

‘OK. Is there anything in particular you'd like to eat?'

‘Whatever you choose will be fine for me.' Then after a brief moment, ‘I should go now.'

As she watched him walk back to the
camionette
, she was remembering him at the lake, how beautiful he was naked, and how powerful his desire had been when he'd come back towards her. Knowing she would see him like that again later, and feel him in every way possible, started such a turmoil of longing inside her that it was only as he turned and cocked a humorous eyebrow in her direction, as though knowing what she was thinking, that she was able to let the intensity go with a laugh.

By ten o'clock she was back from the market with a basket full of fresh fish, locally grown salad and fruit, baguettes still warm from the oven, and two bottles of Bâtard-Montrachet
grand cru
that had cost almost a hundred euros each. She'd bought candles too, and pink, starburst lilies which she arranged in a vase to set down on the kitchen table, not only so their wonderful scent could start filling the house, but as a centrepiece. Now the Germans were back it wouldn't be possible for them to eat outside.

After preparing the fish, she began to wash the salad, then noticing a small grey dove pecking around on the wall outside she went to watch it. A moment later it fluttered over to perch on the flower box in front of the kitchen window. Not wanting to scare it, she remained very still watching it inspect the earth and geraniums, then to her surprise it raised its head and seemed to look right at her. She looked back and for a while neither of them moved. Then, very gingerly, she reached for a baguette, broke off a few crumbs and putting them on her palm she held them out. Almost immediately the dove flew away, but after a minute or
two it returned to the wall and watched, hesitantly, as she dropped the crumbs into the window box. A few seconds later it came to gather them up.

Delighted, she was about to feed it some more when her phone started to ring. Immediately fearing it would be Charlie or Lilian she was tempted not to answer, since she knew her conscience would put an end to everything if she spoke to either of them today. However, to her relief, she saw it was Luc and quickly clicked on.

‘Am I interrupting?' he asked.

‘Well, as a matter of fact,' she replied, ‘I was busy making friends with a dove. Would you believe, it's almost eating out of my hand.'

He laughed. ‘Yes, I would believe,' he told her, ‘because it's probably Solange. The twins – and Natalie – found her at Easter. She was injured so we took her to the vet, and she stayed at the cottage with your mother and Natalie until the twins took her to the château. She's been there ever since, but every now and again she comes back to Valennes.'

Jessica was smiling. ‘Well, she chose a good day for her return,' she declared, watching the dove flit back over to the wall. ‘She's very pretty. You say her name's Solange?'

‘You know how the twins love to name everything.'

She did indeed, but realising he hadn't called to discuss that, she said, ‘Is everything all right with you? No problems at the other plots, I hope.'

‘None so far. I was just thinking about you, and wanted to hear your voice.'

Feeling her heart swell, she said, ‘Funny because I wanted to hear yours too.'

‘No second thoughts about tonight?'

‘None at all.'

‘That's good.' Then after a pause, ‘It's almost time for you to call the paramedic.'

As anxiety returned to her heart, she said, ‘Yes. I know.'

With a reassuring warmth, he said, ‘It'll be all right. I'm sure no-one else was there. As my father told you, the paramedic probably wouldn't have put the truth in his report if it could get him into trouble.'

‘But I have to be certain. You do understand that, don't you?'

‘Of course. Call me after you've spoken to him?'

She smiled, loving his concern, and after assuring him she would, she rang off.

At ten past eleven she sat down at the table and holding the paramedic's number in one hand, she began dialling with the other. Her insides were in a tumult of dread and hope and no little fear, because if the paramedic hadn't been the one to carry Natalie to the sofa . . . But of course he had. It could only have been him, so she must stop putting herself through this unnecessary strain and remember that her instincts hadn't served her correctly over the autopsy report, so there was every chance they were about to let her down again.

A muffled voice answered after the third ring, saying, ‘
Oui? Qui est là?'

In French Jessica said, ‘This is Madame Moore, Natalie Moore's mother. Is that Monsieur Lemoine?'

‘
Vous voulez mon frère
,' the voice told her.

A moment later another, slightly clearer voice said, in French, ‘Stefan Lemoine speaking. I was told to expect your call.'

‘I hope you don't mind, when you're . . .'

‘No, no, not at all,' he assured her. ‘I am happy to be of help in any way I can. Did you see my report? I think someone was going to fax you a copy.'

‘Yes, I have it,' she said. ‘Thank you. It's very clear, but I was wondering . . .' She took a breath. ‘What I'd really like to know, when you arrived at the cottage . . . You were the first here?'

‘With my colleagues, yes.'

‘And was my daughter . . . Did you find her . . . I know you say she was on the sofa, but I need to know, was it you who carried her there?'

There was a moment's hesitation before, sounding slightly baffled, he said, ‘No, Madame. It was as I say in my report. She was lying on the sofa when we arrived.'

Jessica swallowed hard as her heart turned over. ‘I understand that it might be against regulations if you were to move her,' she said, ‘but if you did, I only want to thank you for your kindness in not leaving her on the floor.'

She heard him inhale, then in a gentle but firm voice he said, ‘It is true, Madame, I might have broken the rules and moved her if I had found her on the floor and realised there was no more we could do, but my report is accurate. She was on the sofa when we arrived.'

Jessica's eyes closed as she took a moment to collect herself. ‘Do you have any idea how she might have got there?' she asked. ‘Did you see anyone else, besides my mother?'

‘No, only your mother,' he answered. ‘I assumed she had moved your daughter, but I think from what you are saying, that maybe she did not?'

‘No, she didn't. Apart from anything else she wouldn't have had the strength.'

There was a brief silence at the end of the line before he said, ‘I'm afraid that wasn't something I considered at the time. She was the only one there, so I came to my own conclusions. Are you sure it wasn't her?'

‘Yes,' she replied, and pressing a hand to her head she tried to think what to say next. ‘Monsieur Lemoine, you've been very kind speaking to me like this, but would you mind if we went over it again? It's very important I get it right.'

‘But of course. I have plenty of time.'

He was every bit as patient and polite the second time around as he'd been the first, answering everything she put to him as clearly and accurately as he could, so that by the time they'd finished there really could be no doubt in her mind – he was telling the truth.

After thanking him and wishing him a speedy recovery, she clicked off the line and sat for a long time staring at nothing. Oddly she felt none of the anger, or even outrage, she might have expected, only a profound sense of having finally come within sight of a truth she'd always known was there. Of course she still had to find out what it was, and for that she needed to speak to her mother again, but first, because she'd said she would, she rang Luc.

He listened quietly as she told him about the call, not interrupting at all, until finally he said, ‘You're absolutely certain your mother said the paramedic carried her there?'

‘Yes,' she replied. ‘I admit she was flustered at the time, but one thing was clear, she hadn't taken Natalie there herself. How could she? You've seen how tiny she is.'

‘This isn't at all what we expected,' he murmured.
‘Would you like me to come back? I could be there in an hour.'

‘No, it's fine,' she assured him. ‘You need to finish what you're doing, and I don't know yet whether I'll be able to get hold of my mother. As you must have gathered by now, she can be very elusive when it suits her.'

‘
D'accord
. Call if you need me.'

After ringing off she searched for Maurice's number in Capri, then pressed it into her mobile. Her hands were slightly shaky, but she was still experiencing no rage, or recriminations, only a steely determination now to get to the truth.

Though it was a disappointment when the phone rang and rang at the other end, it was no real surprise, nor was it when the machine picked up at her mother's Oxfordshire home. Feeling certain a sixth sense was warning Veronica, she decided not to leave a message, instead she called Charlie. Since he was on air now, she went through to his voicemail, told him she needed to speak to him urgently, and after ringing off she went to sit at the bottom of the stairs, where she always seemed to go when she needed to feel closer to Natalie. And right now, it was the only place she wanted to be.

Charlie received Jessica's message when he returned to his dressing room during a break in transmission. The instant he heard the tone of her voice he knew, without being told, that the first part of the truth was finally starting to emerge through the cracks in its cover.

Accepting there was no point putting it off, he turned the key to stop anyone popping in, then going to stand at the window he dialled Jessica's number.

She answered almost straight away.

‘What is it?' he asked, watching the traffic stop and start below. ‘You sounded upset.'

‘Yes, I suppose I am,' she responded, ‘though I wasn't aware I'd sounded it, but right now I'm much more interested in getting hold of my mother. I've tried the number in Capri. Once again, no reply. Do you know if she's still there?'

‘Actually, I believe they left yesterday, so they're probably at Maurice's by now, in Kent. Why? What's happened?'

‘What's happened,' she said, ‘is that I've just spoken to the paramedic who was first here the day Natalie died. He says she was already on the sofa when he arrived. He didn't carry her there, and nor, apparently, did my mother, so I want to know who did.'

Charlie could feel the blood leaving his face. ‘Jessica,' he said, in a voice that was so strangled he could hardly get the word out.

‘I'm sorry, darling,' she said gently, ‘I know how difficult this is for you. You never wanted to believe there was anything else . . . Nor did I, but please accept, we owe it to Natalie to find out the truth. Surely you agree with that now.'

Taking a breath, Charlie pressed his fingers into the sockets of his eyes as he tried to think. ‘Maurice has asked to see me,' he told her. ‘We've arranged to meet on Tuesday, but I can call again now to see if he can make it any sooner.'

‘It's my mother we need to speak to,' she reminded him.

‘I realise that, but let me speak to him. I think, well . . . I'll get onto him now and call you straight back.'

A few minutes later, after receiving no reply from Maurice's number in Kent, he rang Jessica again.
‘There's no-one there,' he told her. ‘I'll have to try tomorrow, it'll be too late by the time I come off air.'

‘Why? You're due to finish at six.'

‘I'm doing an extra shift. Holiday cover.'

‘Oh, I see, but I want some answers, Charlie . . .'

‘No-one's home, what am I supposed to do?'

‘I'm just saying, someone around here is lying, and I don't think it's the paramedic. Do you?'

‘How do I know, I didn't speak to him.'

He flinched as she said, ‘Charlie! You accuse me of being in denial, but just listen to yourself. Why on earth do you think a paramedic, who's never met my mother before, would lie?'