Secrets From the Past (16 page)

‘I do, too. Anyway, Cara knows I told Harry that Geoff could come for the weekend, and she made no objection. Neither will Jessica.’

‘I’m glad Harry’s doing that, bringing him here, and we’ll try and cheer him up. He’s a good man, and I’ll never forget what he did for me, coming to get me out of that risky hellhole in Afghanistan.’ Zac straightened in his seat and went on, ‘And what are Geoff’s plans after this weekend? Do you know?’

I shook my head. ‘Harry had asked Geoff to hold the fort in London, until he got there to make a few more changes in management. He’s sent Matt White to cover Pakistan, in Geoff’s place, and he has to decide who’ll run the London bureau, until Geoff officially takes over. If he’s still prepared to do that.’

‘But surely he will? There’s not much for him in California, if his ex-wife is hooked up with another guy.’

‘I hope he’ll take London, but Harry told me Geoff’s been thrown for a loop. I’m not worried about the London bureau; there are a couple of people who can run Global equally as well as Geoff. Things’ll be all right there, no matter what.’

‘Pete Sheldon’s pretty good. He could step in anywhere.’

‘I agree. Harry and Geoff will be arriving late tomorrow afternoon. Harry’s already ordered a car, so we don’t have to meet them at the airport. Tell me about your run with Cara. How was it?’

‘
Great
. She ought to enter the New York Marathon next October. Talk about speed, she goes like the wind. I couldn’t keep up with her for very long. I guess I’m out of shape. But the run did me good, Pidge. I said I’d go with her tomorrow. Running helps me to let off steam.’

‘I’m glad.’ I drove on, silent, wondering whether to repeat Cara’s conversation about Jessica. Immediately, I decided not to, following the rules I’d been brought up with: we kept family matters to ourselves. Instead, I said, ‘I’m going to park the car in Lulu’s little driveway. You remember our old cook, don’t you?’

‘I sure do, best food I ever had, except for Mom’s. And she lets you do that, does she?’

‘I’m not certain that she’s aware there’s a car there, or that it’s mine – she’s very old now. But her daughter, Adeline, is still working for us at the house, running it. And her other daughter, Magali, comes in to help when we have guests or if Jessica is giving a special dinner or cocktail party. It was Adeline who told me to make use of their drive a long time ago. She’s already called their house this morning, spoken to Lulu’s caregiver, told her that I’ll be parking there for a bit.’

Zac nodded. ‘It certainly saves driving around Nice looking for a parking spot. When we’ve done my bit of shopping, I’d like to go to the Hotel Negresco, for old times’ sake, buy you a drink. I used to go there with Tommy. After that we can find a bistro for lunch. Okay?’

‘That’d be great, Zac.’

I peered ahead, drove carefully, paying attention when we entered the city. There was a lot of traffic because Easter was looming; the French took this religious holiday seriously, but also celebrated it with great spirit.

Lulu’s house was in a small back street behind the Promenade des Anglais and, after I had parked, I walked with Zac toward Vieux Nice. The old town was much the same as it was in medieval times, with narrow bustling streets and ancient buildings. We soon found various shops for Zac to purchase T-shirts and underwear, and then we headed toward Cours Saleya, where we passed the flower and vegetable markets, and lots of busy cafés.

As we wandered on, heading towards the seafront, Zac suddenly said, ‘I’d like to get gifts for Jessica and Cara. What do you think they’d like?’

I was taken aback for a moment, but then said, ‘They’re hard to buy for, Zac. Even I have a hard time wondering what to get. I think your best bet is perfume.’

‘I’d like to do it this morning, Pidge, before we go back to the house. Give them a gift each tonight.’

‘No problem,’ I replied. We strolled out onto the beautiful Promenade des Anglais, originally planned by English people living in Nice in the 1800s. Lined with palm trees, it was now wide and stretched for three miles along the seafront; most of the best hotels were located there, as well as many boutiques.

Turning to Zac as we approached the Hotel Negresco, Nice’s grandest hotel, I said, ‘Dad always told us this was a fairy-tale castle when we were little. And it does look like one, don’t you think? All white, with its fanciful dome and balconies.’

Zac nodded, gazing up at the hotel. ‘It sure does … let’s go to the bar and toast him. I always enjoyed my little sojourns here with Tommy. It’s one place I got to know a different side of him.’

Once we were seated in the bar, I told Zac to order mimosas, because the orange juice counteracted the champagne. ‘I’ve got to drive us home, remember?’ I added when he stared at me, frowning. But I was also concerned about Zac’s consumption of liquor. He didn’t always know when to stop, and drink affected him badly these days.

He suddenly smiled, nodded. ‘Hey, that’s what Tommy used to order!’ he exclaimed, and beckoned to a waiter.

Within minutes we were toasting my father, and then Zac settled back in the chair and recounted a few anecdotes about him, and their adventures together, doing so with a certain glee.

I had heard them all before, but I listened attentively, relieved that Zac was his normal self. During the night he had shouted a lot and been restless.

Before we left Venice, I’d phoned Jessica, told her I wanted Zac to use the room adjoining mine, which had once been used by my nanny when I was a toddler. Jessica had agreed this was a good idea. Certainly, with the door open, I could hear him, as I had last night. I had gone in, but he was suddenly quiet and under the covers. After a few seconds, I’d left.

Against my better judgement, I allowed him to order two more mimosas, and we sipped them, still talking about Dad. At one moment I asked him where he wanted to have lunch, mentioning a number of bistros we knew. I thought it was time we left the bar.

‘Oh let’s stay here,’ he answered, offering me that endearing lopsided smile. ‘I don’t mean here in the bar, but outside on the terrace. Why go searching for a bistro when we’re in the best place in town?’

He said this in such a jaunty way, I couldn’t help laughing. But in my heart I knew that he didn’t want to bestir himself. It was a common occurrence these days, almost as if he didn’t have the strength to move. On the other hand, perhaps he was just tired from jogging with Cara.

It was four o’clock by the time we got back to Jardin des Fleurs, and the first person I ran into was Jessica. She gave me her usual dazzling smile as I walked into the kitchen, where she was busy preparing dinner.

I knew at once she was making one of her specialties, boeuf bourguignon – beef stew in red wine with bacon, onions and mushrooms. She usually did most of the cooking. She was sometimes helped by Adeline when we had guests, but I noticed Lulu’s daughter was nowhere in sight at the moment.

I smiled back as I walked over to the long oak kitchen table in the middle of the floor, where Jessica was preparing vegetables. There was a gorgeous smell of beef and bacon floating in the air, and my mouth began to water.

‘I can smell that we’re in for a delicious dinner tonight,’ I said, sliding onto one of the tall stools at the opposite side of the table, gazing at my sister.

‘Beef stew. I know it’s one of your favourites, that’s why I’m making it, Pidge.’ As she spoke she looked towards the door expectantly. ‘Where’s Zac?’

‘He went upstairs to rest. We’ve been shopping in Nice, buying a few things for him, but he seemed a bit done in when we’d finished lunch.’

‘That’s possible. But he does seem in control of himself. A bit quiet, not his usual exuberant self, but he’s been through a lot.’

I sat studying Jessica, wondering how to broach the subject of her new boyfriend, feeling a little awkward.

She saved me the trouble when she put down the wooden spoon she was holding and said, ‘I haven’t told you about Allen Lambert, Pidge, because there’s not a lot to tell. It’s not a big romance, nothing like that. What it is, actually, is a very nice friendship.’

I stared at her, said nothing.

Jessica began to chuckle. ‘I see you’re surprised I’m aware Cara talked to you about him … well, you know what she’s like. Gossipy. She came and confessed she’d been blabbing to you about Allen when I got back from the auction house an hour ago. I think she felt guilty for chattering behind my back. I told her to forget it – all families do that: gossip about each other, I mean.’

‘Well, I don’t!’ I exclaimed a little heatedly.

‘Please don’t be upset, Serena. I know you’re probably feeling hurt because I didn’t confide in you, but honestly there’s nothing to confide. If I was involved in a big romance, you’d be the first to know.’

‘Cara said I should talk to you, persuade you to go and have more medical tests, Jess. She thinks you could have inherited that rare form of osteoporosis from Mom. If you can imagine that.’

I saw sudden anger in Jessica’s dark eyes, and she exclaimed, ‘She’s too much! The cheek of it! Why did she come to you? We’ve discussed it at length, she and I, and I went for the additional X-rays the day after my fall. I gave you those results when you were in Venice.’

‘I know … I guess she still worries about you.’

Jessica gave me a steady look, but there was a hint of annoyance in her voice when she said, ‘I assure you I’m not sick. I’m very healthy, in fact.’

I said, ‘Oh look, don’t let her get your goat. You know she expresses opinions even when she doesn’t know anything about the subject she pontificates about.’

Jessica let out a long sigh, picked up the wooden spoon and stirred the bowl. ‘I do know she used to omit telling us things, years ago.’

‘But she’s never lied, to my knowledge. So why would she lie to me about you now?’ I said.

‘What lies?’

‘She says you’re constantly complaining about having tired legs and aching bones.’

My sister shook her head. I could tell from her expression she was exasperated. ‘She’s exaggerating. I admit I did complain about my aches and pains, but that was just after I’d fallen.’

‘Let’s move on. I guess she told you Harry’s bringing Geoff Barnes with him tomorrow, and that I’d said he could.’

‘It’s fine with me, as you knew it would be. Geoff’s part of Global Images, so he’s family.’

She took the bowl of vegetables over to the sink, filled the bowl with water and placed it on the countertop. Then she turned off the stew, and returned to the table. Removing her apron, she took hold of my hand. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s go and sit in the garden, and I’ll tell you all about Allen Lambert.’

‘All right,’ I said, following her. I couldn’t help wondering about the Englishman Jessica was involved with. Was he a cad, as Granny would have called him? One of those men who have a dangerous aura?

W
e went and sat in the pergola that Dad and Harry had built not far from the kitchen. Their idea was that we could have alfresco meals outside in the summer. The food was in close proximity, and that made life easier for everyone, cooks and helpers alike.

I sat down, and then lifted my eyes, looked up at the Alpes-Maritimes. The range of mountains that soared above the gardens was magnificent, and very beautiful, whether covered in greenery as they were now, or frosted with snow in winter.

When I was little, my father had told me that the mountains were the guardians of our house, and that we would be safe always, because we were protected by them forever. He had had so many tales, and I had listened attentively, believing every word.

As I believed Jessica. I’d never known her to tell me a lie in her life. She was my favourite sister. I loved Cara, but she had certain traits that irritated me, and I was aware she also irritated Jess at times, even though they were twins and extremely close, so very connected. Cara wasn’t a bad person, she was just complicated, and sometimes strangely remote, distant. It was as if she wasn’t part of us, part of the family, at times.

Jessica broke into my thoughts. ‘Are you worrying about Zac, Pidge?’

I glanced at her; she looked concerned. ‘No, I’m not. Why do you say that?’

‘You seem very thoughtful –
pensive
, actually.’

I shook my head. ‘I was thinking about Cara … she gets to me occasionally.’

‘I know. She does to me, too, and she did to Mom as well. But she’s fine. Deep down, she loves us, couldn’t bear to be without us. She cares as much as we do, and in a crunch she’d be there, defending us with all her might. She’d take a bullet for us.’

‘I know that, I really do. So go on, tell me about Allen Lambert. And don’t miss out a thing.’

She burst out laughing, in her usual cheerful, exuberant way, and leaned back in the wicker garden chair. ‘All right, here goes. I’ve known Allen for six years. He works for a PR firm in London, where he has a flat. But he also has a house in Nice. His mother died when he was a child and his father remarried. His stepmother was French, and so he spent a lot of time here in his childhood, and when he was grown up. After his parents died he decided to keep their house in Nice. He spends many weekends, and the summer, here. I met him socially first, and later he did some PR work for Stone’s.’

‘When did you start going out with him?’

‘We occasionally had dinner over the years, but we’ve grown closer these last few months, and we’re seeing more of each other. Still, it is just a friendship.’

‘I was startled when Cara told me about him,’ I told her.

‘I’m not having a love affair with him, Pidge, which is why I didn’t mention him when I was in New York. He’s just a friend.’

‘Cara doesn’t like—’ I stopped abruptly, could’ve bitten my tongue off. I didn’t want to be a tittle-tattle, or repeat what Cara had said to me.

Jessica was far too smart, knew I’d been about to confide.

She said, ‘I know Cara doesn’t like Allen. I think that’s probably because he’s rather reserved, not a man given to making a fuss. She has no clue what he’s actually like, Serena, because she hasn’t spent any real time with him. Her judgement’s flawed because she doesn’t know him.’