She craved him. She longed to take her erotic dreams of that summer, and turn them into a consummate reality.
He noticed the change in her. Her lips became slightly parted, her cheeks gently flushed. At last a pause fell; a silence that slowly filled with unmistakable expectation and mutual, unspoken
understanding.
Eventually he’d leaned forward, and brushing her hair behind her ear as he had earlier, whispered to her, ‘Diana.’
‘Yes, James?’
‘When you saw me coming out of the hotel earlier, I’d been to Reception. I booked us a room here this afternoon. I know that was incredibly presumptuous of me, but
I—’
She pressed the tips of her fingers against his lips. ‘No. I’m glad, James,’ she whispered. ‘Really, really glad. Can we go there now, straight away?’
In the room, they undressed each other wordlessly before falling on to the bed. He entered her almost at once.
‘I’m sorry, Diana,’ he gasped. ‘I have to have you right now . . . Later, I promise I’ll—’
She silenced him again, this time with her lips. After a moment, she turned her head away a little and drew her arms tightly around him, pulling him still further in.
‘This is
exactly
what I want, my darling, darling James. I couldn’t want anything more.’
He continued to stroke her Caesarian scar. ‘What happened? Was it an emergency?’
‘Sort of. She was in completely the wrong position and nothing the midwife or doctor did could turn her. Stella was stubborn right from the start. It would have been a breech birth and
they’re awfully dangerous. The surgeon was quite sweet about it before they put me under. “I’m going to make Baby a little front door so he can join us,” he said to me.
Except that it wasn’t a “he”, was it?’
James propped himself up on one elbow and stroked her hair. ‘Did you think you were having a boy?’
Diana nodded, taking his hand and kissing the palm. ‘Oh yes. We all did – me, and Mummy and Daddy. It’s obvious now why. We’d lost both you and John less than a year
before, and a son would have seemed incredibly symbolic. I convinced myself you’d left me with a boy.’
‘So what did you think when you came round and they handed you a baby girl?’
Diana lay back on the pillows and smiled at the memory. ‘I burst into tears of sheer happiness. I completely forgot all thoughts about having a boy . . . There was something so sweet and
– oh, I don’t know – almost
funny
about having a little girl. We all felt it. My parents doted on Stella from the day she was born.’
James reached down to the side of the bed and groped for cigarettes inside his jacket. He lit one for each of them before asking her: ‘I don’t suppose you have a photo of her on you,
do you? I’d love to see her.’
‘Not so fast,
père
Blackwell,’ she replied. She sat up and looked at him with mock seriousness. ‘How did you know I’d want to come to this hotel room with
you?’
He dipped his head and kissed each of her breasts in turn before answering.
‘Because I heard something in your voice when you telephoned me at my apartment this morning. Remember, you’re my wife, though I suppose our marriage must have been dissolved or
annulled or whatever, years ago. But that doesn’t alter what we had – what we
have
, together. We know each other instinctively. That doesn’t go away, does it? Do you
see?’
She smiled at him. ‘Of course I do. I’m only teasing. I know exactly what you mean. I feel it too.’
He put his cigarette on the ashtray by his side of the bed, and took hers, placing them carefully side by side. Then he held her face in both his hands and kissed her gently on the lips.
‘There’s one more thing that I have to tell you, Diana. It’s more important than anything I’ve said yet.’ He pulled her gently down beside him, and began to stroke
the curve of her waist. ‘I still love you. I never stopped loving you.’ He kissed her again. ‘And I think that you still love me.’
She kissed him back. ‘Yes, I do, James. I really do.’
A while later, they drew apart again. Diana lay still with her eyes closed for a while before slowly sitting up, pulling her bag onto the bed and unzipping a small side
compartment. She slid her fingers inside and drew out a small black-and-white photograph.
‘Here she is. This is your daughter.’
He took the picture and angled it towards the advancing afternoon light that slanted through the bedroom windows. After a few moments, he gave a low whistle.
‘My, oh my, so that’s her . . . that’s our little girl. How old is she in this?’
‘It’s a recent one,’ Diana said. ‘I took it about six weeks ago, so she’d just turned ten. Those are our villa gates behind her.’
He studied the photo closely. It showed Stella standing on one leg, the other tucked up behind her and held in her hand by the ankle. Her other arm was thrown extravagantly above and behind her,
gesturing towards the villa’s drive. She appeared to be singing, her mouth a perfect ‘0’. She was wearing a knee-length summer dress, and white sandals buckled on to bare feet.
Her blonde hair was inexpertly tied up in bunches, which James guessed she had attempted to do herself.
He turned to her mother and grinned. ‘She looks quite a character.’
Diana smiled back. ‘Oh, she is. She can be so funny, and quick, and she doesn’t miss a trick.’
‘Can I keep this?’
‘Of course you can, darling. I’ll get some more and give them to you when we next see each other.’
They stared at each other, as the implication behind her words sank in.
‘Hmm,’ he said at last. ‘Isn’t this what they call the vanishing point?’ He pulled her to him, kissing the top of her head. ‘What I mean is – well, if
we look behind us, we can see how we got here. It’s certainly a crooked road, but it all makes perfect, logical sense. But when we look ahead . . .’ He shrugged. ‘It’s a
completely blank landscape, isn’t it? Which way do we go now?’
They held each other for some time longer, before she replied.
‘I have no proper idea. Not yet. But I do know one thing. I won’t lose you again, I’m absolutely certain of that. Yesterday I was full of confusion and even fear. But
that’s all gone.’
She sat up in the bed, and took both his hands in hers. ‘It’s horribly complicated, James. But my father has an expression: “If it wasn’t complicated, it wouldn’t
be life”.’
He looked at her quizzically. ‘Meaning?’
‘He means that every kind of apparently intractable problem has a solution. One just has to be patient and discover what it is. And that’s what we’re going to do. We’re
going to solve this and everything is going to be all right. For everyone. You, me, Stella – even Douglas. You’ll see.’ She almost glared at him, defiant in her nakedness.
To her astonishment, and slight annoyance, he began to laugh.
‘No, no,’ he managed to gasp. ‘Don’t be cross with me!’ He hiccuped, then brought himself under control.
‘Girton girl, you’re
incredible
! The fact is, Miss Diana Arnold . . . you haven’t changed one bloody bit.’
Diana thought she would have just enough time to take a taxi to Villeneuve Loubet and rendezvous with her daughter at the funfair. James went out into the square outside the
Colombe d’Or to arrange a cab for them both – ‘I’ve got some business in Nice, I’ll drop you off on the way’ – while she dressed and frantically reapplied
her make-up. The sexual flush had faded from her cheeks but her eyes sparkled as she applied mascara.
James had taken her virginity that first night, eleven years past, at the Dower House. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She had had three other men since – four, if you counted Douglas
– but no one had ever made her feel the way James did.
She examined herself critically in the bathroom mirror. Did the afternoon show? She smiled. She felt exactly the same as she had done when she came down to breakfast at the Dower House, the
morning after James and she first slept together. Then, she was sure her parents would be able to tell. Now, she wondered if Douglas would somehow notice a change in her at dinner tonight. The
contentment that flowed through her body from sexual fulfilment must be obvious to anyone with eyes to see.
She wondered why she felt no guilt. It had never crossed her mind before to be unfaithful to Douglas; today she had betrayed him without a moment’s consideration. She’d do it again,
too, and soon.
It was strange, she thought, as she snapped shut her powder compact and poured everything back into her handbag. The thought of sitting down with Douglas at some point in the future and telling
him everything; explaining how she couldn’t possibly stay with him now, not now that her James had come back to her, seemed the most reasonable, uncomplicated thing in the world.
But what about Stella? How could she communicate any of this to her daughter?
Diana supposed she’d find a way eventually. But at the close of this extraordinary afternoon, and despite her fierce optimism with James just now, the task seemed quite beyond her.
Half an hour later, as their taxi was bumping down the steep hill that plunged in a series of dips and loops towards Villeneuve Loubet, James cleared his throat. He and Diana
had been holding hands, her head on his shoulder, since leaving St Paul and the driver, after a sharp glance from James, had hastily adjusted his mirror so he could see nothing of the passengers
behind him.
‘Darling, I have to ask you something. I need a favour from you. It’s not a small one, I’m afraid.’
Diana looked up at him. ‘Well?’
He cleared his throat again. ‘Remember I told you I’m about to do a deal here in Nice – a really important one?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good . . . Well . . . here’s the thing, Diana. I’m a few francs short of what I need to set the whole thing up. I thought I had enough, but another chap’s outbid me.
It’s extremely annoying. I can get the extra, obviously, but it’ll take a week or so and the deadline’s Friday, the day after tomorrow.’
Diana sat up straight. ‘Yes, I see. How much do you need?’
He shrugged. ‘It would only be a very short loan. I could pay you back in, say, a month to six weeks.’
‘But how much is it?’
He appeared to calculate a figure in his head.
Diana blinked when he told her. ‘My goodness. That is rather a lot.’
‘I know, darling, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in Nice, it’s that one can’t accumulate if one doesn’t speculate. Not that this is speculation,’
he added quickly. ‘Not at all. It’s a sort of down payment; the price of entry to join this particular business club. Once you’re on the inside, you’ve practically got a
licence to print money.’ He paused.
‘But it’s not all about me,’ he continued. ‘I employ a lot of people whose livelihoods depend on my pulling this off. They have families – children. I can’t
let them down.’
He looked at her. ‘Well? What do you say? I’ll quite understand if you can’t manage it, of course.’
Diana shook her head. ‘I can manage it. I have my own bank account here. Douglas is very modern-minded about that sort of thing. He insisted on settling a large sum on me and Stella when
he and I married. Then there’s the trust money I got when I turned 21. Altogether, I must have at least what you need. Well, I did the last time I checked my bankbook.’
He managed to conceal his sudden excitement. ‘And you’d lend it to me?’
Diana turned to face him. ‘James, I love you. You’re my first husband; you are my
real
husband. You were lost to me, but I’ve found you again. What’s mine is
yours. I know we’re in an incredibly complicated situation, but I’ve already told you: I’m not going to lose you a second time. We’re going to work this out. It won’t
be easy, but we will.’
She kissed him. ‘Of course you can have the money.’
He returned her kiss for a long time, before finally breaking away.
‘You’re wonderful, Diana,’ he whispered. ‘Thank you. Thank you.’
She opened her handbag. ‘Let’s see, my chequebook should be in here somewhere.’
James told the driver to pull over while Diana wrote out the cheque. She filled in the date and the amount and then laughed. ‘Who do I make it out to, James? What’s your
nom de
guerre
? Or is it a
nom de plume
these days? You haven’t actually told me.’
James thought quickly. ‘Well, I have one or two different business names, actually. Tell you what, leave that part blank. I’ll decide which one to use later.’
By the time the taxi was dropping Diana at the entrance to the funfair, James had the cheque folded into his wallet.
At his suggestion, she had made it out for cash.
‘Mummy! Mummy! We’re over here!’ Stella hopped from one foot to the other, waving both arms above her head. She and Maxine were in the short queue for the
funfair’s star attraction – a huge wooden Big Dipper topped with a garish neon sign:
Le Crazee Chat!!
Diana hurried over to her daughter. Maxine, she noticed as she joined them, was looking a little green.
‘Maxine doesn’t
really
want to come on the Crazy Cat, Mummy,’ Stella said breathlessly. ‘She’s being very brave, though, and she’s pretending that
she does. I’ve told her you hate rollercoasters too, so she’s not to worry. I’m used to going on them by myself.’
One of the cat-shaped cars rattled past them on its final swooping descent to the exit platform. The occupants screamed in delighted terror as it whipped by.
‘It’s all right, Maxine,’ Diana told her. ‘You don’t have to ride with her. I’ll do it.’
Stella gaped. ‘
Mummy?
’
Diana grinned. ‘Why not? It’s about time I gave it a go, don’t you think? Maxine, you go and buy us some lemonades from the stall over there.’
The girl nodded with relief and slipped out of the queue. When she reached the lemonade stall, she looked back. Diana and Stella were climbing into one of the cars, laughing. Diana looked around
and, noticing Maxine, gave her an exaggerated wave.
Maxine realised that she had never seen
madame
looking quite so alive, or so beautiful. She nodded to herself. This was the second afternoon that Diana had not returned home for
lunch
.