Page 37 of Rendez-Vous in Cannes
Anna’s fingers trembled as she stretched out her hand to take the two envelopes.
‘Philippe started to write the letters and the other things you’ll find in there after he received the first letter from his… his possible relation,’ Jacques said.
Anna bit her lip and tried to stop the tears flowing down her cheeks. Gratefully, she accepted the handkerchief Bernard handed her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘This is all so unexpected.’ She looked at Jacques. ‘What is happening? Can you tell me who has been in touch? Bernard did tell me it was a woman.’
She glanced at Bernard, hoping that Jacques knowing she and Bernard had talked about who it was wouldn’t make things difficult for Bernard.
‘A Felicity Howell wrote on behalf of her husband, who believes he is Philippe’s son. She is telephoning me this afternoon,’ Jacques said. ‘I hope to learn more from her then.’
Anna tensed. ‘Did the letter mention her husband’s name? His mother?’
Jacques shook his head. ‘No. It simply said her husband had been adopted at birth and had never known either of his real parents. When I speak with her, I will of course try to extract as much information as I can. Anna,’ Jacques said gently, ‘there is more. Philippe’s lawyer wants a meeting with you. He suggests eleven o’clock tomorrow morning if that is convenient for you? A couple of months ago, Bernard and I witnessed Philippe’s will – you were to be a beneficiary if you could be found at the time of his death.’
Anna stared at him. ‘Me? A beneficiary?’
Jacques nodded. ‘Yes. The lawyer will explain when you meet him tomorrow. Why don’t you take the envelopes and read Philippe’s letters in private and we can meet again later in the week, when I should have more information – and more time,’ Jacques suggested, standing up. ‘I’m afraid I have to leave soon.’
‘It was good to meet you again.’ Anna stood up and held out her hand. ‘Thank you for these,’ she said, indicating the envelopes.
‘I’ll ring for the car,’ Bernard said, reaching for his mobile phone.
Anna stopped him. ‘Not for me, Bernard. I think I’d like to take a walk. Clear my head.’ It was all becoming rather surreal. Lawyers. Jacques. Beneficiary. Felicity Howell.
‘May I walk a little way with you?’ Bernard asked. Taking her agreement for granted, he held the door open for her and ushered her through.
Both were quiet for several minutes, lost in their own thoughts as they made their way through Cannes. It was Bernard who broke the silence.
‘The letter you wrote Philippe telling him you were pregnant? He gave it to me to read the day he received it. He was absolutely thrilled and could hardly contain his excitement at the news.’ Bernard turned and looked at her. ‘I have to ask you a question – one I think I already know the answer to – but I need to hear the truth from you,’ Bernard said, taking a deep breath. ‘Did you go ahead and have the baby or—’
Anna stopped, shocked. ‘Did I abort the baby? Oh, Bernard, how can you even ask me a question like that. I loved Philippe with all my heart. There was no way I would ever do that. So, to answer your question, yes, I had Philippe’s baby. I named him Jean-Philippe before I was made to give him away. The possibility that this Felicity Howell’s husband could be…’ her voice trailed away.
‘I was certain that was going to be your answer,’ Bernard said. ‘Oh Anna. I don’t know what to say.’
‘It was a long time ago, so there’s nothing left to say really,’ Anna said sadly. ‘Other than for me to say I’m so sorry Philippe never got a chance to meet his son, either as a baby or as a grown man.’
‘Yes, he would have welcomed that,’ Bernard agreed as he glanced at her. ‘There’s something else I need to say to you. You have to understand Philippe never forgot you, never truly stopped loving you, never had a committed relationship with another woman, but he never lived the life of a monk. There is a chance that whoever this man is – he’s not necessarily your son.’
Anna smiled ruefully. ‘I realise that. Leo has also pointed it out. But I can’t take the risk of not finding out. I have to know.’
‘So long as you realise it is a risk however it turns out,’ Bernard said as they crossed the Croisette and began walking in the direction of the harbour. ‘Now, has the fresh air cleared your head? I have to leave you here, I’m afraid. I have a meeting in ten minutes.’
‘I’m fine,’ Anna said. ‘Honestly,’ she added, seeing the worried look on Bernard’s face. ‘I’d quite like some time on my own before I meet up with Leo. I’ll see you tonight at the party.’ She reached up and kissed him gently on the cheek. ‘Thanks, Bernard.’
After Bernard left her, Anna pushed her way through the crowds loitering around the harbour and began making her way along Quai Saint Pierre with just a single thought in her mind. She had to get away from all these people. Try to get things into perspective.
A poster for the ferryboats that operated between Cannes and the Iles de Lérins caught her eye. Running the length of Quai Laubeuf, she bought a ticket for the next sailing and was the last person to board the crowded boat.
Twenty minutes later, Anna followed her fellow passengers up the quay to the small traffic-free road that circled the Ile Saint-Honorat. Watching as everyone else took the clockwise route, Anna deliberately turned in the opposite direction and began making her way along the coastal track towards an almost deserted beach.
Perched on a small rock, Anna finally opened the letter Philippe had sent her nearly forty years ago.
My darling,
What wonderful news! Where shall we get married – France or England? Where shall we live while the island cottage is being done up? What shall we call the baby? Will you come to America with me? (I promise we’ll be back in time for ‘it’ to be born in France – or England, whatever you decide.) I can barely believe we’re going to be a family so quickly. I promise to take the greatest care of you both.
All my love, Philippe.
