Page 57 of Rendez-Vous in Cannes
‘Thank you, Cindy,’ Anna said, impulsively bending down to give the little girl a hug as she handed her the bag. ‘I’m so glad you’re safe. Go and get warm now.’
Back in the villa once they’d both dried off, Leo poured them a glass of wine each in lieu of hot chocolate and Anna begin to open her present. A knock at the back door surprised them both and Anna listened as Leo went to answer it.
‘May I come in?’ Teddy asked. ‘Nat is taking Cindy home and…’ he hesitated, ‘I’d like to talk to Anna.’
‘I’ll leave the two of you to talk,’ Leo said. ‘If you want anything, I’ll be in the kitchen.’ And, ignoring Anna’s pleading look, he closed the sitting room door behind him.
There was a tense silence, as Anna, determined to wait for Teddy to speak, concentrated on opening her present and Teddy stared out at the garden through the French doors, his hands clenched into fists on either side.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Anna, Teddy turned to her and broke the silence.
‘I’m afraid the children’s escapade this afternoon was my fault. I thought Verity and I were managing to have our arguments out of earshot of Cindy but apparently not.’
‘I guess children don’t miss much,’ Anna said, not looking at him and continuing to unwrap her present. ‘Oh, how sweet of Cindy. Look,’ and she held up the snow globe to look at it properly. When Teddy just muttered, ‘Nice’, Anna glanced sharply at him. ‘So, what did Cindy overhear that made her so desperate to be here when I got back?’ The question she really wanted to ask him – why are you here? – remained unspoken.
‘She’d overheard me forbidding Verity to let her come here before we leave and was afraid she would never see you again.’ Teddy ran his hand through his hair agitatedly. ‘While they were drying off just now, she was crying. She was determined to give you a present so you would remember her because you’d given her that necklace and she knows she’ll remember you forever.’ Teddy shook his head as he looked at the snow scene.
Anna shook the globe and watched the snow falling around the bright pink whale on his blue island before quietly asking, ‘Does she know I’m her grandmother?’
‘Well, I certainly haven’t told her. And I sincerely hope you haven’t.’ He glared at her, before turning away and pacing around the room.
Anna watched him for a few seconds before saying, ‘Are you going to tell her?’
When Teddy ignored the question, Anna shook the globe again just to give herself something to do.
Finally, as the silence between them lengthened, Anna sighed before putting the globe down on the table. Since their encounter in the cottage when Teddy had made plain his feelings towards her, she’d tried so hard to accept his attitude, to convince herself that she was happy to wait for him to come round; that it was pointless to contact him to try to persuade him to listen to her side of the story. But now he was standing in front of her, clearly unhappy, maybe she should try to break the ice – explain a few things? But where to start?
‘Is this your first visit to Cannes?’ she asked as he stopped to stare out of the window, his back to her.
‘Yes.’
‘It’s ironic then, isn’t it, that both you and I chose this particular year to come to the festival. Me, I came to make my peace with Philippe and to finally close an unhappy chapter that has shaped my life since I was seventeen years of age. You had hoped to meet your father. And if that had happened for you, I would have heard about the two of you being reunited because Philippe would have made sure the world knew about his son. He would have been delighted that you followed him into the film industry. I also believe that he would have wanted you and me to know each other. Instead, Philippe died and I found myself tormented by the rumours that mine and Philippe’s son, whom I gave away, was in town. And now you’re having to deal with meeting the mother you believe didn’t care about you.’ Anna sighed when Teddy made no response. ‘For someone who said they wanted to talk to me you’re not being very communicative.’
Teddy finally turned to face her. ‘Tell me all about the man who was my father.’
Anna shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. I only knew him for a brief ten days. Other people can tell you more than I can. You need to talk to Jacques, his twin, to Bernard, his best friend. They both knew him far better than I ever did.’ She paused and tidied up the discarded wrapping paper. ‘I can tell you about the boy I loved though. He was one of the most kind, tender and humane people I have ever met.’
‘Okay, tell me about your affair then,’ Teddy said.
Anna stared at him. ‘It was far, far more than an affair. Philippe was my first and, until I met Leo, my only love.’ She fingered the pendant around her neck, wondering where to begin, how to try to make Teddy understand the events of forty years ago. ‘For ten days we lived only for each other. The in phrase that year was ‘life without limits’ and it became our mantra. We knew without question that we were destined to be together for ever, living our lives to the full. I had no reason to suspect when I kissed Philippe goodbye at Cannes station after the festival closed that we would never be together again. We’d made so many plans for the future.’
Anna bit her lip and swallowed at the memory of her farewell with Philippe before continuing.
‘I went back home ready to work my way through the summer to fund my college course and to wait for Philippe to return from the States. I was so looking forward to introducing him to my parents as the man I was going to marry. Six weeks later, I realised I was pregnant.’
‘Did you tell Philippe?’
‘Of course. I wrote and told him. But it wasn’t until this week that I learned how pleased he was at the idea of becoming a father and realised how much he cared about me – and you,’ Anna said.
‘This week?’
Anna nodded. ‘Once my parents knew I was expecting, they took control of my life. Which included intercepting my letters. Forty years ago, I was led to believe that Philippe had rejected me and you, our baby. I now know that was a lie.’
‘Why didn’t you keep me, bring me up on your own – especially if you loved my father as much as you say you did?’
Anna sighed. ‘You have to remember,’ she said, ‘the world was a very different place back then. I was just seventeen – still a minor in the eyes of the law and living at home. Legally I couldn’t do anything without my parents’ consent until I was twenty-one. I couldn’t have a bank account in my own name, I couldn’t rent anywhere without them standing as guarantors and I had no money to pay rent with anyway. I was also unemployable. It was a world totally alien to the way things are today.’ Anna reached for a tissue from the box on the table. ‘Your grandparents refused to even entertain the possibility that Philippe would marry me. They said he had used me and that I was stupid to believe he would “make an honest woman of me”, to use their old-fashioned phrase. They promised they would stand by me, let me live at home and finish my education provided I agreed to do as they said.’
Anna was silent as she remembered again the harsh terms her parents had imposed. ‘I had to go away to an unmarried mothers’ home, the baby would be adopted and I was never again to mention the subject to them. I fought against having the baby adopted – tried to make them feel guilty about giving away their grandchild. When I didn’t hear from Philippe again, I had very little choice but to agree to their terms, which included changing my name.’
