Page 53 of Secrets Beneath a Riviera Sky
Finishing her drink, Francine stood up. ‘I’m ready for bed. See you in the morning, sleep well.’
Down in her bedroom, Francine hummed happily to herself as she got ready for bed. She and Edwin were rekindling their close relationship, and she and Zazz seemed to be understanding each other better. And having Piers back in her life as a friend, that was good too. The icing on the cake would be her inheritance. Deciding what to spend it on would be fun. Maybe they would buy a small apartment down here as a bolt hole. Life was definitely good at the moment and when Edwin returned it would be even better.
44
Later in her room, after saying goodnight to Theo, Agnes thought about what he’d said and smiled to herself. The idea of them finally living together as a couple had always seemed to be a distant, unobtainable, dream to her but Theo seemed adamant it was now within their reach if they wanted it. And she did want it very much.
The still unopened envelope on the dressing table caught her eye and she picked it up. Absently she ran her finger under the seal. A final hateful message from Oscar? Or an apology from him for his treatment of her down the years? If she was a betting woman she’d put money on it not being the latter one. But a hateful message could simply be thrown away and forgotten. Should she do that? Leave it unopened and burn it?Non. She simply couldn’t do that.
As she took a folded piece of paper out of the envelope another piece of paper came out with it and fluttered to the ground. Without looking at it, she picked it up and placed it with the envelope on the dressing table. She opened the folded piece of paper and saw Oscar’s familiar handwriting and began to read the last letter to her from her dead husband.
To my wife, Agnes Agistini,
It is thanks to Zazz, my so called ‘granddaughter’, that I am able to write this letter. A strand of her hair was SO useful.
Cast your mind back to the week before our marriage – a marriage I know you longed to be free of from the beginning, which was why I never divorced you. That particular week I went for a long weekend in Monaco with my friends. My brother, although invited, refused to join us.
I had often wondered about Francine being a honeymoon baby, as everyone assumed.
Zazz arriving unexpectedly in my life provided me with the opportunity to discover the truth. The DNA results are enclosed.
Jasmine Mansell is not, not, I repeat, my granddaughter.
Which raises the question whose granddaughter is she, and more importantly – who was Francine’s father?Mon Dieu, that would be my brother, Theo, wouldn’t it? I always knew he was in love with you. Part of the reason I married you was to stop him having you.
Recently I have learnt that I have a son – something you were unable to give me. Under French law, as my illegitimate son, he will be entitled to my estate – you will get what the law stipulates the remaining spouse receives and Francine will get nothing.
I have enclosed the DNA results for you to see and give to the notaire, he will know how to proceed even though they were not done via the French court.
Oscar.
Trembling, Agnes reached out and took the piece of paper from the dressing table. After studying it for several moments, she replaced both it and Oscar’s letter in the envelope before sinking down onto the bed.
That special night in Antibes with Theo on the boat came into her mind. She’d never for one moment even dreamt that Francine had been conceived that night. She’d never given a thought that she might fall pregnant. All she’d known that night was that she loved Theo and wanted him.
How was he going to receive the news? She knew he adored Francine, had loved being in her life as her uncle but how would he react to learning that for the past fifty-three years he could have been so much more.
There was only one way to find out. First thing in the morning, she’d show him the letter and the evidence that Francine was his daughter, not Oscar’s. She could only pray that he would welcome the unexpected news.
45
After a disturbed night, Agnes was awake before the sun rose the next morning. Knowing there was no chance of getting any more sleep, she dressed quickly and went down to the kitchen, taking the envelope and its contents with her. She popped a pod into the coffee machine and stood silently watching as the coffee came through.
Five minutes later, when Theo appeared, she took one look at him and burst into tears. He was immediately at her side. ‘What’s the matter? Are you ill?’
Agnes shook her head. ‘No, I’m not ill. I don’t know what I’m feeling right now,’ she sniffed. ‘It’s a good job that Oscar is already dead because at this moment I could murder him with my bare hands.’
‘What’s happened?’
‘Remember that envelope with my name on it? I finally opened it last night.’ She picked up the envelope and took out the letter. ‘He wrote me this letter and also gave me proof of what he says in it.’
‘May I read it?’ Theo asked quietly.
‘Oh definitely, you need to,’ Agnes nodded and handed it to him. The two minutes it took Theo to read the letter and glance at the DNA results, were two of the most worrying minutes Agnes had ever experienced as she waited for his reaction. Finally, he looked at her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Agnes whispered.
‘I have just one question I have to ask. Did you know all along that I was Francine’s father and kept the knowledge from me?’
