Page 27 of A French Adventure
Maxine nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘Earlier this week, you avoided me for a couple of days, saying the garden party memories overwhelmed you, but you’ve not truly been yourself since I arrived. The post I brought from Paris – was there something there that upset you?’ Thierry paused, clearly choosing his next words carefully. ‘Something maybe from Daiva Toussaint?’
Maxim’s fork slipped through her fingers, clattering onto her plate. ‘You know about him?’
‘Oui. Papa wanted me to know in case there came a time in the future when that man attempted to re-enter your life and Papa was no longer here to protect you. He wanted me to be able to step into his shoes. For you to have someone on your side.’
Maxine pushed her plate away. Her appetite gone. ‘Did he tell you everything?’
His eyes full of compassion, Thierry gave a slow nod. ‘He also said he was breaking his promise to you by telling me but hoped that you would forgive him. He felt he had no real choice as you have no other family you can turn to. I think your need has happened far sooner than he could have anticipated.’
Maxine took a deep breath. ‘One of the letters was from a London solicitor telling me that Daiva had died.’
‘How do you feel about that?’
‘Relieved that he is no longer around to cause problems. Still angry about his behaviour and the way it caused me such unhappiness. I won’t be mourning him,’ Maxine said, staring atThierry, a defiant note in her voice. ‘But even in death he tries to control the situation,’ she added quietly, standing up. ‘There was a letter from him enclosed with the solicitors. I’ll fetch it and you can read it.’
When she returned with the letter, Thierry had cleared the table and placed two slices of tarte au citron on the table. ‘Dessert. Still a favourite, I hope?’
Maxine nodded as she handed him the letter.
There was a short silence as Thierry read the letter.
‘Are you going to do what he wants?’
‘One moment I think yes, the nextnon.’ Maxine shrugged helplessly. ‘Mais, rationally I don’t see I have a choice if I want to live in peace with my actions for the rest of my life. I can either reach out and try to right the wrongs of the past by putting the truth out there, whatever the result. Or I can take the easier option and ignore the letter – leave the past and its hurt buried forever.’
Thierry’s mobile rang at that moment, breaking the tension in the air. He held the letter out to Maxine before taking out his phone and glancing at the caller ID. ‘It’s Trent.’
‘Go ahead, answer him. Give him my love,’ and Maxine went into the study to put the letter down on the desk there.
Thierry was sat waiting for her at the table, the two slices of tart had been joined by a pot of crème fraiche, when she returned.
‘Shall we eat dessert? Shame to waste these.’
‘Trent and Felicity okay?’ Maxine asked, spreading some crème on the top of her tart.
‘They’ve offered me a bed for the night tomorrow. I might just take them up on their offer if that’s okay with you?’
‘Of course.’ Maxine hesitated. ‘But you won’t talk to them about…’ She let the unfinished sentence linger in the air as shegave him an anxious look. ‘Pierre is the only person I’ve ever told.’
‘It’s your business, Maxie, no one else’s. Just remember I’m here if you ever want to talk something through,d’accord?’
‘Merci.’
Later that evening before going upstairs to bed, Maxine went into the study, picked up the letter again and studied it thoughtfully. Decision time. Sitting at the computer, she wrote an email to the lawyer asking for Leonie’s contact details, scanned Daiva’s letter into the computer and attached it to the email. Several heart-thumping seconds passed before she slowly and deliberately pressed the send key.
There, the first step had been taken. Whether she would be brave enough to take the next all-important one remained to be seen. But knowing Thierry was at her side, willing to help if she needed it, made her feel stronger and ready to right the wrongs of the past, whatever it might take her.
19
Although the early train to Monaco from Antibes that Sunday was crowded, Vivienne enjoyed the ride along the coast. On her right, the Mediterranean glistened in the early-morning sunshine, and through the carriage windows on her left, she caught glimpses of the towns that lined the coast and the villas up in the hills. Some stations, bright with hanging baskets, the train powered through, others they came to halt by platforms crowded with people jostling their way onto the train. Names of places she’d only ever read about – Eze, Villefranche-sur-Mer – flashed by in a blur. When the train entered the tunnel at Cap-d’Ail which would take them into the centre of Monaco, Vivienne marvelled at the unexpected length of it. And the huge cave-like station carved out of the rock almost took her breath away as she stepped onto the platform at journey’s end.
Maxine, familiar with the station layout, led her to the moving walkway that would take them out of the station. ‘The other exit and entrance means a longer walk down to the harbour,’ she explained as they stood on the moving pavement. ‘Besides, my favourite breakfast cafe is nearer this way.’
Walking down the hill towards the harbour, Vivienne gazed around her, trying to memorise everything she was experiencing. The huge TV screens, the harbour packed so tightly with large yachts, the red Ferrari flags alongside Monaco red and white national flags, all flying from apartment blocks and other tall buildings. The place was buzzing with activity, noise and a general air of excitement under a brilliant blue sky with its golden orb already warming the day up.
After an indulgent breakfast of waffles with maple syrup and cream and a large pot of coffee in a little cafe in a quiet side street, they began to make their way down to Trent and Felicity’s apartment overlooking Port Hercule. Passing a stall selling Ferrari souvenirs, Vivienne stopped and bought a Ferrari sweatshirt for Tim. No point in buying Natalie anything with Ferrari or F1 emblazoned across it, she wasn’t that keen on motorsports. Vivienne would buy Natalie something cookery-related another day.
