Page 19 of A French Adventure
The door of L’Abri was open as Vivienne and Olivia walked down the mews-like street, where perfume from the pots of night-scented jasmine either side of the door was filling the evening air. Maxine had chosen a playlist of music from the big band era of the 1930s to set the mood for the evening and currently a Glenn Miller tune was wafting through the cottage out into the street.
Vivienne hung back, letting Olivia take the lead into the cottage as they both heard laughter and conversation drifting out. Once they’d accepted glasses of champagne from one of the waiters circulating amongst the guests with laden drink trays, they stood for a few moments on the terrace taking in the scene before them.
Solar lights were popping into action all around as the sun set. Candles were already lit in tall vintage metal holders with decorative glass panels placed in the flower beds at strategic places, as well as a couple hanging from the trees at the bottom of the garden. Glamorous-looking people were poised around the garden like statues that unexpectedly came to life as they laughed or raised their champagne flutes to drink. It was a scenethat Vivienne had never imagined being a part of, a scene that she needed to memorise every detail of to write about later.
‘Hello,’ Giselle said, joining them on the terrace. ‘Vivienne, I recognised the dress before you. You look so different. Love the new hairdo.’
‘Thank you,’ Vivienne said. ‘I promised to wear the green dress but the new haircut was unexpected and to tell you the truth I hardly recognise myself this evening.’
‘That’s good. We all need to shake things up a bit sometimes. It’s good for my business, if nothing else,’ Giselle said, smiling.
As Giselle moved away to talk to someone else, Olivia saw Maxine standing down by the pond and caught her breath at the sight of her companion. What was Thierry doing here? The last time Maxine had mentioned him he’d definitely still been in Singapore doing something financial and scandalously profitable. She’d never so much as dropped a hint that he would be here tonight.
Because of Trent and Pierre’s long friendship Olivia had known Thierry all her life. Five years older than her, he’d tended to treat her as his annoying young sister, teasing her affectionally, but never unkindly, whenever the two families got together. He’d always been the first person she turned to whenever she needed to talk something through, or to rant about her mother’s latest interference in her life.
Not anymore. Their old easy-going friendship that had developed between them as she grew older, and something Olivia had taken for granted would always be there, had been fractured nearly three years ago, when Olivia accused Thierry of not exactly jettisoning his principles for his current job, but definitely stretching them to accept some of the less than favourable aspects. The resulting argument had driven a distance between them that time had done nothing to close.Olivia missed his presence in her life but had grown used to the empty space he’d left behind.
She had, of course, gone to Pierre’s funeral with her parents and she’d also sent a personal message of condolence to Thierry. Her father had told her Thierry’s visit back for his father’s funeral would be a fleeting one and she’d made sure they didn’t meet up face to face on that occasion by leaving immediately after the service. She doubted that Thierry had even realised she was there. He and Maxine, as Pierre’s only family, were united in their grief, and from the state of Maxine on that day, Olivia suspected she’d never have got through the service without Thierry at her side.
‘Shall we join Maxine?’ Vivienne asked, breaking into Olivia’s thoughts and looking down the garden towards the pond. ‘Do you know the man she is with?’
‘Thierry, her stepson.’ Hearing her mother’s tinkling laughter as she approached the terrace, Olivia began to walk towards Maxine. ‘Come on then.’ At least this way she wouldn’t have to face Thierry alone.
‘I do wish your father was still here,’ Maxine said, looking at Thierry. ‘This was one of his favourite nights of the year.’
‘I struggle to believe sometimes that he’s gone,’ Thierry said. ‘I keep wanting to phone him to tell him something that has happened. Ask his advice. Talk to him. I’ve even picked up the phone to do just that. But then,’ he shrugged, ‘I remember.’
Maxine hooked her arm through his. ‘I know. It’s hard. We just have to cling to the hope that it will get easier with time. How much time we need, though, is open to question,’ she added quietly.
Thierry squeezed her hand in sympathy.
‘It is good having you back in France,’ Maxine said. ‘Although I am curious as to why you’ve returned.’
Thierry took a deep breath and exhaled before saying. ‘Losing Papa so unexpectedly has made me re-evaluate certain things in my life. Suddenly, all those so-called important business meetings I was involved in became an irritating waste of time, energy and resources. I couldn’t find it in me to care about anything. I decided I needed some time, some space, to work out what is important to me, how I wanted to live my life. I wanted to come home. To be with old friends, people who know me. So I quit.’
‘A little drastic?’ Maxine said quietly.
‘Peut-être, but I had to get away.’
‘I understand that feeling only too well.’ Maxine gave Thierry’s arm a sympathetic pat.
‘I’ve only been back a few hours and already I feel lighter, more optimistic, so promise no worrying about me, okay?’ Thierry gave her an affectionate look. ‘Things will work out.’
Maxine nodded. ‘I promise, but don’t forget you can always talk to me.’
‘Thanks. Now enough about me. Who is this coming with Olivia?’
‘Vivienne Wilson, my new writer friend I told you about, staying in Olivia’s apartment,’ and Maxine smiled in welcome at the two women. ‘Vivienne, you look amazing. I adore the new hair. I’m so pleased you kept your promise to come tonight. This is Thierry, my stepson. No need to introduce you, Olivia, you two are old friends.’
‘Long time no see.’ Olivia’s voice had a cool edge to it as she looked at Thierry. ‘Two? Three years?’
‘I guess it must be.’ Thierry nodded, his voice equally subdued.
Maxine, sensing the strained atmosphere between the two of them, gave them both a quick glance as the silence lengthened. Something was wrong here. These two had always been so easy with each other. Felicity had mentioned something about the two of them falling out ages ago, but surely they’d made up by now?
‘Have you introduced Vivienne to your parents yet?’ she asked, turning to Olivia, who shook her head. ‘In that case, I do it now. We leave you two young people to catch up with each other. I think you have lots to talk about.’
Trent and Felicity had moved to the side of the garden and were admiring the white rambling rose that Maxine had trained along the stone wall dividing the garden from the neighbour.
