Page 21 of A French Adventure
‘I’m getting there – petal by petal,’ Olivia said, trying not to laugh.
‘Did you hear about the flower that never bloomed? It was a bud omen.’
Olivia groaned. ‘Still the master of terrible jokes then?’
‘I’ve been saving them up especially for you,’ Thierry shrugged. ‘Moi? I can take them or leaf them.’
And just like that they were laughing together, friends once more.
Olivia knew though she wanted to say sorry to Thierry at some point. Their falling out had been mostly her fault. She’d had no right to say the things she did, no wonder he’d responded angrily. Now, as the two of them laughed and chatted, she promised herself that at the first opportunity that presented itself, she’d apologise to him. Tonight wasn’t the right night, but soon.
14
A crescent moon was silver in the light-polluted starless sky as Vivienne made her way up to the terrace, taking a glass of water and her mobile with her. Still buzzing after an evening of socialising, ten minutes sitting looking out over and listening to the gently dancing waves of the Mediterranean lapping the shore would help calm her down and hopefully the water would banish any chance of a hangover in the morning. Not that she’d drunk too much, she never did, but champagne always tended to give her a headache for some reason. Probably the bubbles, she reasoned.
The party had been fun and she’d enjoyed herself far more than she’d expected. Maxine had introduced her to so many of her friends and made sure she wasn’t left alone, or without a drink. Olivia too had kept an eye on her, and later on in the evening she’d spent time with her and Thierry, whom Vivienne had liked instantly, thinking that they made an attractive couple. She’d noticed that after saying hello to her parents at the beginning of the party Olivia had kept her distance from them. Vivienne gave a small smile. Who could blame her when Felicity was so clearly still in helicopter mother mode despiteOlivia being an adult. As she and Olivia had thanked Maxine for a wonderful evening before they left together to walk home, Vivienne had impulsively suggested supper at the apartment on Wednesday evening to the two of them. ‘My way of saying thanks to both of you for making me feel so welcome.’
Picking up her phone that she’d left behind for the evening, Vivienne began to scroll through a list of messages and missed calls. Damn she’d missed a call from Tim. Too late to call him now, she’d send him a quick text, make sure he was okay. With the exception of one ‘How are you?’ message from Natalie, the remaining four messages with their demanding ‘Phone Me. Very important.’ were all from Jeremy as were all the missed calls. She quickly sent Natalie a text message with a thumbs up sign and saying she’d ring in the morning. As for all those messages from Jeremy, she certainly wasn’t going to phone him at this time of night, so she deleted them all. She’d deal with whatever it was in the morning. Nothing could be that urgent. Right now it was time for bed after a lovely evening spent with new friends.
‘I think your party was a terrific success, felicitations,’ Thierry said as he and Maxine wandered through the garden after all the guests had left, blowing out the candles that were still alight.
‘Merci, Thierry.’ Maxine glanced at him. Would he think her a crazy old woman if she told him she’d had a strong sense of Pierre’s presence tonight in the garden? Had even imagined she’d seen him standing there, once in the shadows by the pergola benevolently surveying the scene. The second time he’d been down by the pond watching the fish. Something he’d done every evening when they were in L’Abri. It made her feel happythinking his spirit had been here in the garden tonight, as if he was giving her his blessing for going it alone.
‘Although it wasn’t the big ordeal I expected – you being here made it easier, thank you for coming.’ She smothered a sigh, pushing her imagined sightings to the back of her mind. ‘It’s another first survived without Pierre at my side,’ she said. ‘C’est la vie.’ Time to change the subject. ‘You and Olivia are friends again? Felicity told me she thought the two of you had an argument before you went to Singapore.’
Thierry nodded. ‘Yes, we’re friends again.’
‘Bon,’ Maxine said, waiting and hoping he’d say more, but his next words changed the subject.
‘The candles are all out,’ Thierry said, glancing around the garden. ‘Would you like me to lock up while you go straight to bed?’
Maxine nodded, unable to speak. In that moment, Thierry had looked and sounded so like his father that it had taken her breath away. Managing to murmur a quiet ‘Bon nuit, I’m so happy you are here,’ as she kissed his cheek, she left him in the garden and went straight to her room.
After the nightly ritual of cleansing her face and cleaning her teeth, Maxine sat on the dressing-table stool and stared at the white envelope she’d placed on the glass top of the dressing table hours ago. Hesitantly, she picked it up and studied it again. Rereading the name of the legal firm who had sent it instantly brought back memories of those terrible days years ago.
She knew without a doubt that opening the envelope, reading the letter that would be enclosed, whatever it said, good or bad, it would bring all the hurt, resentment and bitterness back up to the surface. Could she bear to open it? Relive the total disillusionment when somebody she had believed herself in love with had cut off all contact and disappeared out of her life,separating her from the one person she’d loved more than life itself.
But how could she choose not to open it? She knew with absolute certainty that she’d be devastated once again if it failed to give her the news that she’d longed to receive for so many years. But there was a slim chance surely that the letter would contain welcome news? She couldn’t take the risk of not opening the letter and missing it.
Knowing that she was in an impossible situation – sleep would evade her despite her tiredness if she didn’t open the envelope, but the chances were she wouldn’t sleep once she’d seen and read the contents of the letter – Maxine took a deep breath. Carefully opening the envelope, she pulled its contents out slowly. An official-looking typewritten letter was folded in half around a smaller, sealed white envelope with her name handwritten across the face of it. Staring at the word with its loopy and exaggerated curves, Maxine felt her heart quicken. Was he finally going to give in after all these years? She placed the sealed envelope on the dressing table. Taking a deep breath, Maxine unfolded the official letter and began to read:
Dear Maxine Zonszain, it is with regret that we write to inform you…
15
The persistent ringing of the phone on her bedside table, coupled with her usual morning alarm call, broke through Vivienne’s deep sleep at six thirty the next morning. In a daze, stretching out her arm to reach the phone, her hand fumbled around and knocked it on to the floor, where it noisily carried on ringing.
Groaning, Vivienne leant over the edge of the bed and, finally locating the phone, grabbed it and sat up. Knowing instinctively who it would be, she didn’t bother to look at caller ID, she simply pressed the button. Immediately, Jeremy’s voice was loudly berating her. It was far too early to cope with one of his tantrums, so she disconnected the call and switched the phone off. Throwing herself back onto the mattress, she lay there for some minutes thinking murderous thoughts about Jeremy before throwing off the duvet and making for the shower.
Half an hour and a strong coffee later, Vivienne picked up her phone and called Jeremy, braced for another outburst from him. As soon as she heard him on the line, she interrupted him. ‘If you start yelling and shouting at me, Jeremy, I shall hang up and block you. So tell me what it is you want.’
‘What I want is for you to come home and sign some papers so we can both get on with our lives.’
‘I’m getting on with my life quite happily,’ Vivienne answered. ‘Anyway, what papers?’
‘House papers. The estate agent has been and the house is ready to go on the market, but he needs your signature on the for-sale agreement papers as well. He has several people already lined up to view. Reckons it’s a desirable property and will sell quickly. So if you come home Monday or Tuesday, we can get it done.’
‘Stop right there. First, I am not coming home next week. Secondly, I haven’t agreed to sell the house yet. If and when I do, you can scan the papers to me for my signature.’
