Page 54 of Summer at the Château
‘I think he was planning on finally bringing you ‘ere this year and introducing you to Justine and Ferdie. I know Justine tried several times to get him to tell you. He tried so hard for so long to avoid hurting you that sadly, fate took it out of his hands and in the end he never got the opportunity to do the right thing and you’ve been ’urt even more by his secrecy.’ Brigitte tentatively reached out for Pixie’s hand and squeezed it. ‘I am so sorry for everything. You and I used to be such friends, I hope you can forgive me and we can enjoy watching Ferdie growing up together. The one thing you have to remember above everything else is that you were the love of Frank’s life until the day he died. He tried to do everything he could to protect you from being hurt.’
Pixie slowly removed her hand from Brigitte’s and stood up. ‘Thank you for finally telling me the truth. At the moment I’m finding it hard to forgive Frank for keeping “his family” a secret from me for so long. As for us being friends again, maybe.’ She shrugged and began to walk away. ‘We’ll have to wait and see.’
35
Gwen was in the kitchen when Pixie walked in and looked up anxiously.
‘Where is everyone?’
‘Justine and Brigitte have gone over to the cottage, William has taken Ferdie and Buddy for a walk around the grounds. Charlie is… I’m not actually sure where Charlie is. Are you all right? Cup of coffee?’ Gwen moved towards the machine and switched it on, popping a capsule in and placing a cup under the spout.
‘Please. As for me, I think stunned is the word. It never occurred to me that my best friend all those years ago would be the mother of Frank’s daughter. At least I know the truth now.’ Pixie pulled a chair out and sat down. ‘When she got out of the car, I recognised her instantly and I was genuinely thrilled to see her. I missed her so much when she just vanished all those years ago.’ Pixie shrugged. ‘But now, now I don’t know how I feel about her.’
‘Did she tell you how long the affair went on?’ Gwen asked quietly.
‘She insists it wasn’t an affair. It was just the once when Frank broke down.’
Pixie stood up and pushed her chair back under the table. ‘Mum, do you mind if I take my coffee upstairs? I think I’d like to be alone for a bit. My mind has gone blank. I need to let things sink in.’
‘Of course not,’ and Gwen handed her the cup of coffee.
Once upstairs in her writing room, Pixie stood looking out of the window and sipping her coffee for a few moments before sitting down and placing her cup on the floor. She really must get a temporary table or desk of some sort up here until the furniture from her study at home came over. To think in a few months this would be home.
Home. Was she ready to call this place home? Did she really want a new beginning in a foreign country without Frank at her side? It would be easier to stay in England and carry on with her life there as normal. Only it wasn’t normal any more, was it? It had turned empty and lonely the day Frank died. The last few months here had shown her that there was still a life out there for her to live if she was brave enough to grasp it. And a life here would include the ready-made family that another of life’s curveballs had thrown at her.
Justine and Ferdie. The thought flashed through her mind that if Jean-Yves was correct, and there was no reason to doubt him, the château would belong to them at some point in the future, perhaps she should hand it over now and return to England. She could visit regularly and get to know them, but would they see enough of each other to become close in the way Brigitte was with them both?
Brigitte. Another problem, although a small smile played around Pixie’s lips at the thought of her old friend. Could they ever regain the friendship they’d had in the past? It had been an unlikely friendship from the beginning – Brigitte, a few years older (and it was more than the three she’d admitted to earlier, more like five, even six), typically French in manners and dress, while Pixie, in those days, had been an impulse buyer of clothes and often threw mismatched items together without a thought until Brigitte had taken her in hand.
She’d believed Brigitte earlier when she’d said she’d never set out to sleep with Frank and it had only happened the once. She’d realised a long time ago that French women definitely did have a different perspective on sex – ‘it’s just sex’. Maybe they were the ones responsible for the whole idea of ‘friends with benefits’ these days. Pixie could imagine how distressed Brigitte must have been when she realised she was pregnant and her life was about to fall apart. Unable to confide in her best friend, returning home to France and facing her family alone must have been more than difficult.
Pixie swallowed hard, remembering the times Brigitte had been there for her every time she miscarried or the IVF treatment failed.
And then there was Frank. No, he shouldn’t have slept with her best friend, and he shouldn’t have compounded the mistake all these years later by not telling her the moment he’d learnt of Justine’s existence. But deep down she did understand why he’d been so reluctant to tell her.
Pixie took a deep breath, picked up her cup from the floor and stood up. She stood for several minutes looking out of the window, putting thoughts in place. She would move here and make a new life for herself, and included in that new life would be Frank’s daughter and grandson. The château would once again have a family living within its walls.
As she turned to leave, she was conscious of a sudden definite waft of perfume in the air. Frank’s citrus aftershave. She stopped.
‘Eavesdroppers rarely hear good of themselves,’ she said quietly. ‘But thank you for Justine and Ferdie.’
The familiar ruffle of her hair and then the air cleared.
Going downstairs, Pixie smiled. Things would work out.
* * *
‘I am so furieux with you for not telling me Pixie is here,’ Brigitte glared at Justine.
‘That is fine because I’m furious with you too, for turning up without warning.’
Brigitte shrugged. ‘I wanted it to be a surprise for Ferdie.’
‘Well, you certainly achieved that.’
The two of them were in the spare bedroom at the cottage, making up the bed for William and Brigitte.
‘What did you say to Pixie when you were talking?’ Justine asked.
