A French Affair (59 page)

‘Oh I'm just scrumptious,' Veronica responded with an airy smile. ‘No more nasty little turns, they all seem to be in the past now, thanks to you and Charlie, of course.'

Jessica's smile faded, for she sensed where her mother might be going next and she really didn't want to revisit the excruciating scene of apology and forgiveness the therapist had put them all through several weeks ago. ‘Where's Maurice?' she asked, before her mother could continue.

‘Still upstairs with Charlie, I expect, having a bit of boy talk. I must say Charlie seems to be looking much better today. Has he put a little weight back on?'

‘Some, but he's still a long way off regaining what he lost. Has he told you he's thinking about going back to work?'

Veronica clapped her bejewelled hands. ‘Oh, that's
excellent news. Apart from anything else it'll be a load off your mind, I'm sure. So how did the meeting go with your publisher? Nikki told me the bits she read were excellent.'

‘Nikki's nothing if not loyal,' Jessica responded dryly, ‘but it went very well. I'm looking forward to carrying on with the rest of it now.'

‘I imagine she was very impressed by how quickly you came up with the first chapters,' Veronica commented, returning to the fridge. ‘You don't have a deadline until the middle of next year, do you?'

‘No, but I love doing it, so I spend a lot of time at it. What on earth have you brought all this for? Or are you planning to stay a month?'

Veronica gave a chirp of laughter. ‘Would that I could, but between us I'm sure Maurice and I would have driven you completely insane by then.' She turned to look at Jessica, then came to put a hand on her face. ‘Is it very hard?' she asked gently.

Jessica immediately shook her head. ‘It's fine,' she said. ‘We're getting through it.'

‘I always felt sure you would, but I have to admit . . . Well, there aren't many women who could forgive what he did, and with your own best friend.'

‘Yes, well, let's not keep going there,' Jessica responded, a little more abruptly than she'd intended. ‘Charlie tells me you have a surprise, which I guess is what the champagne's about. He thinks Maurice has popped the question, is he right?'

Veronica chuckled. ‘There would be no surprise in that,' she told her, ‘but I want to wait until we're all together before I tell you what it is.'

‘Grandma! There you are,' Nikki cried, bouncing down into the kitchen. ‘I'm just off, but I couldn't leave
without saying hi. How are you? You look fab, as usual.'

‘So do you,' Veronica assured her, gulping at the crushing embrace. ‘Is Freddy outside? I should go and say hello, but be warned, once he sees me in this gorgeous new pants suit you might have lost him for the weekend.'

‘She's incorrigible, isn't she?' Nikki laughed as Veronica wiggled off up the stairs. Then, turning quickly back to Jessica, ‘Are you OK? Have we talked him out of that madness?'

‘Yes, I think so. I shouldn't have got so angry . . .'

‘Oh, like you weren't justified? Anyway, the important thing is that he's thinking about doing the news again, and he was talking to Freddy about a really interesting documentary idea the other night, so his brain is functioning normally on some levels, which means he'll be out from under your feet soon enough.'

‘Am I that obvious?' Jessica said with a smile. ‘First Grandma, now you . . . And actually, I'm fine with him here, just as long as he lets me get on with my book and . . .'
Doesn't try to make me sleep with him
, she was thinking, but she could hardly say that to Nikki, so instead she said, ‘. . . doesn't try to take things too fast.'

Nikki smiled fondly into her eyes, then hugged her.

‘I'm glad you've gone blonde again,' Jessica told her. ‘Dad's right, it always suited you better.'

‘Yeah, and Freddy's like treating me to all the jokes, so I'm thinking, duh, should have stayed dark. Anyway, are you going to ask Grandma who your father is?'

Jessica rolled her eyes and laughed. ‘Darling, that's the last thing on my mind . . .'

‘You told me last night that the therapist said you should. It's time for clarity, or something like that . . .'

‘And maybe he has a point, but I've never got a straight answer out of her yet, so I really don't expect one now.'

Nikki shrugged. ‘Your call, but personally I'm dying to know, so if you do get round to it and she tells you, just text GST, or MR, and I'll know it means Greek Shipping Tycoon, or Minor Royalty. Oh my God,' she cried with a splutter of laughter, ‘I've just realised what it is right now – Father Unknown.'

‘Charming,' Jessica replied. ‘Now, if I were you I'd go and rescue Freddy before she manages to get herself invited to Somerset for the weekend. Where's Harry, by the way?'

‘In his bedroom showing Dad and Maurice some new computer game. OK, loving you and leaving you . . . Let me know what Grandma's surprise is as soon as she tells you – and if she's planning to wear white at the wedding, tell her from me, she's got a nerve.'

Laughing, Jessica watched her go, and was just turning to carry on unloading her mother's shopping when out of nowhere she found herself thinking of Lilian. It often happened like that, thoughts flying up from her psyche and bringing a pang of emotion with them, but they were soon gone again. They were no more than old habits taking a while to fade, she told herself, but this time instead of brushing it aside she allowed herself to think of Lilian for a while, and how much she missed her. Then she imagined her at the
vignerons
' ball this evening, flushed with happiness at almost seven months pregnant, dancing in Luc's arms and loving the feel of the baby kicking inside her. Then she banished the thought, knowing it never did any
good to go there, for it only made her more unsure than ever about the direction her own life was taking.

A while later Charlie was pouring champagne into everyone's glass as Jessica and her mother continued laying out the picnic lunch Veronica had brought, and the adorably myopic Maurice with his thick, creamy white hair and ruggedly handsome face, was trying to understand the mysterious world of mobile phones that Harry was teaching him. Outside the rain continued to drum on the conservatory roof, making the windows all steamy and wet, and bringing a sense of cosiness to the kitchen that Jessica found almost as pleasing as she used to.

‘So, time for our surprise, I think,' Veronica announced, once all the glasses were full.

‘Oh cool!' Harry declared, bounding into the chair next to her. ‘Dad reckons you're getting married.'

Veronica's eyebrows rose. ‘Then Dad would be wrong,' she informed him haughtily.

‘Not that I haven't asked,' Maurice piped up.

‘Oh, everyone knows that,' she chided, ‘and I've told you, we will, one of these days, when I can find the right dress. No, our important news is that I am going to move in with Maurice on a permanent basis, so . . . and here comes the surprise . . . I'm going to sell my house and give all the money to Nikki and Harry. That way, we can avoid all those nasty tax men getting hold of it when I pop off.'

Harry's eyes were almost as big as Jessica's. ‘Am I going to be a millionaire?' he asked.

Veronica laughed delightedly. ‘Not quite, darling, but we do think we'll get around four hundred thousand for it, so even with the way things are that
should provide an excellent start for both you and Nikki when you come to buy places of your own.'

‘Nikki's already thinking about it,' Harry informed her earnestly. ‘She wants to move in with Freddy, but she hasn't told Mum and Dad yet, because she thinks . . . Huh,' he gasped, clasping a hand over his mouth as he realised he'd let the cat out of the bag.

‘Oh, I'm sure Mum's worked that out for herself,' Veronica told him. ‘So, now, shall we all drink to my decision? I hope you're not going to argue, darling, because you're looking very like you might . . .'

‘But Mum, you can't. What if you need the money . . .?'

Maurice cleared his throat.

‘You see, I'm very well taken care of,' Veronica reminded her, ‘and I know you and Charlie already have the company flat, as well as this house, so why shouldn't I try to help the children?'

‘You don't have to,' Jessica said, suspecting the gesture was, at least in part, to try to make up for what had happened to Natalie.

‘I'm aware of that, but I want to. So, it's all decided. Now let's drink to windfalls, shall we, because I do so love them, and none of us ever have enough of them.'

Jessica looked at Charlie, but he appeared as stuck for any more protests as she was. Then a mischievous look came into his eyes as he said, ‘You know, it's giving me an idea.'

They all waited expectantly.

‘No, I want to give it some more thought before I tell you what it is,' he decided, ‘so come on, drink up. To windfalls.'

‘To windfalls,' they echoed, and after they'd all taken a sip, including Harry, Charlie went to slip an
arm round Jessica's shoulders and whispered, ‘I know it's not your birthday until next week, but I want to tell you today how much I love you, not only for the way you've stood by me through all of this, but just for being you and making me the luckiest man alive.' He kissed her briefly on the mouth. ‘I hope, on the day itself, I'll be able to show you, as well as tell you, just how much you mean to me.'

THE WEEK PASSED
in much the same way as all the other weeks, the only difference to this one being Charlie's return to the screen for a few hours, and the impromptu party afterwards to toast the successful comeback. The celebrations didn't last long, since Charlie wasn't allowed much alcohol, and Jessica, who'd driven in for the event, soon realised how much it was tiring him so whisked him off home. However, there was no doubt it had boosted his morale no end to be back in the world he knew, surrounded by cameras, lights, friends, and at least some of the attention he craved. For her part, she could hardly have been more relieved when she'd turned on the TV to see him looking so normal and in control, and even able to handle an acrimonious Israeli–Palestinian interview during his first ten minutes. In fact, if it weren't for the weight loss and extra lines around his eyes no-one would ever have guessed at the black despair he'd been through, or the self-loathing, or the longest, darkest hours of all when he hadn't wanted to go on.

Thinking back on it, she realised that supporting him
through his grief had almost been worse than going through her own, for he'd become so dependent on her, and so needy, that she'd sometimes felt he was draining the very life from her. Though she was always there for him, ready to comfort and reassure, his weakness and insecurity had done little to soften her heart. On the contrary, it had often repelled her, for he was so changed from the man she'd respected and loved that she could hardly connect with the stranger he'd become. Just thank God the worst part seemed to be over now, though she was under no illusion that there was still a long road ahead. She only wished the mere thought of it didn't weary her so much, for the reality could surely only be more trying still.

Now, it was Saturday morning and being under strict instructions to have a lie-in, she was gazing up at the ceiling while allowing her thoughts, just for a few brief moments, to escape their prison and go where they always longed to, back to Valennes and Luc and those two precious weeks they'd shared. She was seeing his dark eyes watching her as she'd relaxed amongst the vines, hearing his voice, then feeling herself responding to the warmth of his smile. She didn't wonder what he was doing now, she only thought of him as he had been during that time, humorous, attentive, self-possessed and always seeming to want her in the way she wanted him. Then, knowing she had to, she gradually let him go.

A moment later she became aware of excited whispering outside the door, but even as she smiled to hear Harry, she felt disheartened to think that this was the last time she would wake up here in the guest room. She'd promised Charlie she would return to their bed tonight. Already she could feel herself
rejecting the thought, as though if she ignored it the reality might go away, but of course it wouldn't. Unhappy as it was making her, she had to accept that if they were ever going to repair their marriage this next step had to be taken.

‘OK, are you ready?' she heard Charlie murmur.

‘Yes,' Harry said breathlessly.

‘One, two, three . . .'

The door opened and a moment later Harry appeared with a heavy tray wobbling about in his hands and a look of fixed concentration on his face as he started to sing. ‘Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Mu-um, Happy . . . Huh! I nearly dropped it. Birthday to you.'

Smiling, Jessica sat up against the pillows, then held out her arms to catch him as Charlie whisked away the tray and Harry launched himself onto the bed.

‘Happy birthday, Mum!' he cried, snuggling in and giving her a big kiss. ‘I made your breakfast all by myself, well, Dad opened the champagne, and I've got a present for you that I chose myself and wrapped myself. It's like, really cool and I know you're going to love it, because I know it's something you want. Well, Nikki says it is, so if it's not then it's her fault, not mine.'

‘I'm sure I'm going to love it,' she told him, as Charlie put the tray down.

‘Happy birthday, darling,' Charlie said. ‘I'm sorry it's so early, but Mr Impatience here couldn't wait any longer. Nikki is still in dreamland, as you might expect at seven o'clock on a Saturday morning.'

Jessica ruffled Harry's hair, then stopped as he suddenly cried, ‘Oh Dad! We forgot the flower. Don't worry I'll get it,' and with a bounce, a jump and speedy dash, he took off back down the stairs.