The Woman From Paris (24 page)

Read The Woman From Paris Online

Authors: Santa Montefiore

Tags: #Fiction

Phaedra skied down second, trying not to look to her left in case she lost her balance and fell, thus putting herself in danger. So she skied on until she reached David, then stood beside him and gazed at the sight they had all come so far to see. Only the sound of her heart racing and her panting breath broke the silence that weighed so heavily upon them.

Tom arrived next. He clicked out of his skis and trudged through the deep snow to climb up onto the avalanche. He stood at the top and put his hands on his hips, looking up at the denuded slope, as if trying to work out how exactly it had managed to fell his seemingly indomitable father.

“Let’s go and join him,” David suggested, clicking out of his skis and spearing them into the ground. Phaedra followed, but when she stepped onto the snow, she sank right up to her knees.

“Let me help you,” he offered, extending his hand. Phaedra took it, and together they waded through.

“It’s hard to believe that this killed Dad,” said Tom quietly when the others reached him on the mound. “It doesn’t look much, does it?”

“It doesn’t
take
much,” David replied.

“It was meant to happen,” said Phaedra philosophically, feeling her throat tighten with all the things she never got the chance to tell George. “I think when your time is up, it’s up, and there’s no avoiding it. He died doing what he loved.”

“That’s what Mum said,” David mused.

“Hard for us, but he just skied on up to heaven.”

“You make it sound so easy, Phaedra,” said Tom.

“I think it
is
easy when you eventually leave the world.”

“No, I don’t mean that. I mean easy to accept.”

“No, that’s not at all easy. It’s very hard to accept that he’s gone and will no longer be a part of my life. However, I have no choice but to accept it. Fighting it won’t bring him back, nor will it make me feel better; it’ll just make me miserable and fill me with resentment. I’ll end up hating life for taking him away from me. But you can’t go
about hitting your head against a brick wall. At some stage you have to realize that it’s not going to change and your rage won’t make any difference—you’ll just get a sore head.”

“So how do I accept it like you?” Tom asked.

“We say good-bye, Tom.”

Tom stared at her forlornly. “How do I say good-bye?”

Phaedra noticed his eyes were sparkling and his cheeks were colored a ruddy red. Once again, he was a small boy in his desolation, and she reached across and took his hand. To her surprise, David took her other one. She smiled at him gratefully then closed her eyes. “We imagine him alive and well in a better place,” she said softly. “We see him smiling, radiant, and full of joy, and we wish him well with all our hearts. Then, when you’re ready, you say good-bye any way you like, knowing that he’ll always be around and that one day, when it’s your time to go, he’ll be waiting to welcome you home.”

The three of them stood together in the place where George had died, and said good-bye. The breeze swept across their faces, a bird cried high in the sky, and the clouds moved away, allowing the sun to drench the mountain in light once more. When they opened their eyes, the world looked the same and yet something had shifted within them. They felt different, had a sense of closure.

They skied on down the mountain, leaving the avalanche far behind them. Before, it had seemed disrespectful to enjoy themselves, but now they felt at liberty to do so. They came upon a village of wooden cowsheds and chalets shut up for the winter, nestled in the nape of the mountain, then skied on into the trees and down the Serneus meadows into the valley. The conditions couldn’t have been better for off-piste skiing, and they took their pleasure greedily.

When they returned home at the end of the day, their bodies were tired and aching, but they felt lighter in their hearts. “I feel like a sauna and a swim,” said David, sitting on the wooden bench and unclipping his boots.

“Good idea,” Tom agreed.

“Where do we go for that treat?” Phaedra asked David.

“To the basement,” he replied nonchalantly.

Phaedra looked surprised. “You have a pool, in here?”

“Of course.”

“No,
I
have a pool in here,” Tom corrected. “Remember, Dad left this place to me.”

“So we have to butter you up now for the rest of our lives if we want to enjoy it?” David laughed.

“Naturally.” Tom padded down the corridor from the boot room to the kitchen. “Is it too early for a glass of wine?”

“After the day we’ve had, I’d say a glass of wine is essential,” said Phaedra. David frowned apprehensively and watched Tom disappear into the kitchen.

Phaedra found a navy-blue dressing gown on the back of her bedroom door. She stripped off her clothes and shrugged it on. David led her down a flight of narrow stairs to the basement. It was warm in the belly of the chalet and smelled of a mixture of chlorine and pine. They continued along a sandy-colored tunnel, over long rugs Antoinette had thrown down to soften the ground for bare feet, until one wall soon became large glass windows through which they could see the swimming pool. It was luxurious and inviting, as were the teak loungers placed in a row of six, upholstered in navy and white stripes. The electric light reflected off the water and threw zany displays across the walls and ceiling. The limestone floor was heated from beneath.

David led her into the pool area and on into the changing rooms. A cartoon hippo in a 1920s swimming costume was displayed on the boys’ changing room door, while a girl hippo in a pink bikini appeared on the girls’. “Steam or sauna?” he asked.

“Steam, if I have a choice.”

“You most certainly do.” And he opened the door to switch it on.

Phaedra went into the changing room, where she found white towels stacked in a neat pile and bathing suits hanging on hooks. Displayed in a row behind the two basins were a whole range of Clarins body products. It was like a spa. Phaedra couldn’t imagine why Antoinette didn’t like it here. If
she
hadn’t been a skier, she’d be perfectly content beautifying herself in this underground paradise. She
slipped out of her dressing gown and chose a pretty blue-and-white bathing suit. Then she wrapped herself in a towel and went to join David in the steam room.

He sat on the top shelf, a towel around his waist, as the steam began to billow about him in a hot mist. Phaedra climbed up to join him, choosing the adjacent wall so she could face him. “This is wonderful,” she said with a sigh, leaning back against the stone. “Just what the doctor ordered.”

“It’s a great way of loosening up after all that exercise,” said David.

“It smells of eucalyptus.”

“Good for clearing the airways.”

Phaedra laughed. “Did you put that in?”

“Oh yes, I like my aromatherapy,” he said in a tone heavy with sarcasm.

“Then who does?”

“I don’t know. Probably one of Tom’s girlfriends. He’s always bringing them here.”

“Then I’ve got one of his girlfriends’ bathing suits on.”

“No, they don’t belong to anyone. Mum bought some for the chalet. She thought of everything.”

“She certainly did. It’s like a five-star hotel.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Oh, I love it, David. It’s beautiful. It’s going to be difficult leaving it tomorrow to go skiing, knowing the joys down here!”

They both began to feel hot and sleepy. The little room filled with steam so that they could only just make each other out. “How long do we have to stay in here?”

“About fifteen minutes will do.”

“How long has it been?”

“About eight.”

“Good Lord, I’m not sure I’ll survive another seven minutes.”

“Just think of the good it’s doing you.”

“I’ll try not to pass out.”

“I’ll keep an eye on you.”

She laughed. “Thank you.”

But David was serious. Keeping an eye on Phaedra was the easiest thing in the world. He watched her close her eyes and lean her head back. She had a lovely smooth neck, he thought, running his gaze down her collarbone and chest. Thick, milky skin and long, slim limbs. He shuffled, trying to subdue the aching in his loins. The more time he spent with her, the harder it was for him to fight his increasing ardor. He had never felt like this about any woman in his life. It wasn’t simply the fact that he couldn’t have her that rendered her so desirable. She had qualities he had never found in anyone else, qualities he admired.

David had been touched by the way she had comforted Tom on the mountain and how she had chosen to find the best in his famously difficult grandmother. Phaedra was a
good
person. He allowed his mind to wander because he didn’t have the strength to rein it in. She’d make a gentle mother, he thought indulgently, remembering the tender way she had taken Amber into her arms and kissed her. She’d make a sensual lover, he guessed, releasing his mind to wander across the most forbidden territory. He didn’t believe there was another woman on earth who’d make such a perfect wife. He pulled back, his daydream suddenly causing him more pain than pleasure. He couldn’t have her. A drop of sweat ran over his temple. There was no way he could possibly have her.

“Time’s up,” he said.

Phaedra opened her eyes. “Thank the Lord!” She climbed down.

David followed after. “I’m going to jump straight into the pool.”

“Me, too! It’ll sizzle when I put my hot body into it!” She watched David drop his towel by the side of the pool and dive in. He had a strong, athletic physique, the body of a man who’s constantly on the move—lifting, sweeping, heaping, and carrying. His shoulders were wide and muscular, his waist lean, his legs long and strong. His farmer’s life ensured that he was at the peak of fitness.

He swam a few strokes of front crawl and then swiveled round to face her. When he caught her watching him, he grinned. Phaedra felt the blood rush to her already scarlet face. It was no use trying to
pretend they didn’t fancy each other. The attraction was as strong as summer sunshine. A kiss might defuse the tension, but a kiss could never be. The tension would continue to mount, and then what?

“You can’t stand there all evening,” David laughed when he reached the edge. “You need to cool down.” He was right about that, Phaedra thought. She noticed the rich olive color of his skin and couldn’t help but imagine her pale body lying next to it, as white as a lily.

“All right. Go swim another length,” she demanded. He smiled mischievously and swam off. Phaedra dived in. The water was cold against her burning skin. She could almost feel herself hiss like a boiling-hot pan in the sink. It felt good to wet her hair and wash off the sweat. She trod water, aware of every move David made. He had the ability to make a big room feel small just by being in it.

David swam back towards her. “Bet that feels good,” he said.

“It sure does.”

She laughed nervously as she felt the pull of a magnet beneath the water, drawing her towards him. He laughed with her, but he really wanted to press her up against the side of the pool and kiss her. He could see her body beneath the water. He tried to keep his eyes trained on her face.

“I think I’ll get out now,” she said suddenly.

“You’ve only just got in.”

“Which is a great achievement. But now I want to get out and take a bath.”

“I’m going to swim a few more lengths.” She watched him go then swam to the steps. She glanced up the pool to make sure he was still swimming, then climbed out and hurried across to her towel. David leaned back against the far wall and watched her walk back into the changing area. He wondered how on earth this was going to resolve itself and wished with all his heart that he was living a Hollywood movie with a happy ending. But how could it end, other than in disappointment and frustration? He recoiled at the thought of incest, and yet he’d sacrifice everything to have her. He was doing his best,
but it was useless trying to think of her as his sister. His
half
sister, even. He felt no fraternal instinct whatsoever.

That evening they dined at the Wynegg, a small alpine restaurant in the heart of the village, and played cards until late with a few friends who were dining in one of the wooden alcoves at the back. David ordered a large jug of Fendant, the local wine, but most of it was consumed by Tom, who had already drunk half a bottle of Burgundy before they left the chalet. Once again Phaedra was introduced as a family friend, and once again it was assumed that she was David’s new girlfriend. Neither attempted to correct this, and Tom was too inebriated to notice. When at last they drove home, Tom went very quiet, sitting in the backseat, staring out of the window at the stars as if they were moving across the sky in a hypnotic dance.

They arrived back home and helped Tom out of the car. “I think I drank too much,” he slurred as they frog-marched him into the chalet.

“You sure did,” said David.

“I might have a cigarette.”

“No time for that. Let’s get you up to bed.”

He resisted weakly before allowing them to half carry him up the stairs and into his bedroom. Phaedra took off his shoes and helped him out of his sweater and shirt, then she left David to do the rest.

When he came downstairs, David found Phaedra wrapped in her coat, sitting out on the balcony on one of the teak loungers used for sunbathing in the summer. “At times like these I’d like to smoke,” she said as he stepped out to join her. “It would be nice to sit here in the cold with a cigarette.”

“How about a mug of hot chocolate?”

“That’ll do.”

“Leave it to me.” And he withdrew back inside.

Phaedra was left alone with her thoughts. She loved the mountains and the silence. Surrounded by such magnificence, it was hard not to think about the big questions. In the face of such beauty, it
was hard not to feel romantic. When life was reduced to its essence, love was the only thing that remained.

David returned a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. He handed one to Phaedra then sat down beside her on the other wooden lounger. She took a sip. “Mmm, that’s good. What have you put in it?”

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