Page 49 of A French Inheritance
‘I’m guessing then, alongside a headache, those murderous thoughts about your ex are still filling your thoughts,’ she said.
‘How did you guess.’ He sank down wearily onto the bench. ‘I’ve realised that my ex-wife is what people call “a real piece of work”.’ He glanced across at Briony. ‘I think it’s more than time for me to tell you about my marriage. I doubt that Lucy has said anything to you about my problems of the last year or two.’
‘You’re right.’ Briony hesitated before continuing but decided honesty was always best. ‘Lucy did infer that the internet would have the details.’ Briony felt Elliot stiffen beside her. ‘But I didn’t go looking. I figured that if you wanted me to know you’d tell me yourself. Besides, the past is the past.’
‘Thank you for not googling me.’ Elliot nodded ruefully. ‘The past is the past – until it comes back and deals you another killer blow that knocks you sideways – which is what Robyn did yesterday.’ He exhaled a deep breath. ‘To begin at the beginning. Our marriage had already hit a rocky patch soon after our first anniversary. I realised that I should never have married her, but being old-fashioned and taking my marriage vows seriously, I thought we should try to work things out. I even hoped we’d get back the feelings we must have had for each other in the beginning and could think about having the family that I’ve always wanted. Thankfully, it didn’t happen because it would have been simply compounded the problem.’ Elliot shook the thought away.
‘It would,’ Briony said quietly.
‘Robyn came home one evening and said she’d been asked to present a programme about vets and veterinary practices. And one of the practices she was going to be filming at was the one where I had recently started to work. I wasn’t overly thrilled at the thought of TV cameras following my every move and asking questions, but I didn’t have a choice. The boss had agreed to do the show and we were expected to co-operate.’
‘It must have been difficult, especially when you were dealing with a sick animal, to have a cameraman hovering.’
Elliot nodded. ‘It was. But it got worse. What they were actually after, film-wise, was an exposé of certain vets for malpractice.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’d only been at the practice for three months and I had no idea of the things that were suspected to be going on behind the scenes there and in other practices in the county. And were finally proved to be true.’
Briony gazed at him, horrified. ‘Were you accused personally of malpractice when you were totally innocent?’
‘No. But I got smeared with it because when the owner of the practice realised that I was married to Robyn he accused me of setting him up, and I unwittingly became the scapegoat of the whole thing. When he publicly fired me, people believed that I was the one guilty of the malpractice – not him.’ Elliot closed his eyes and rubbed his face.
When Briony reached out and touched his hand, he took hold of it and gripped it tightly.
‘Given time I could probably have understood to a degree why she didn’t warn me about the type of documentary she was making – although I think she should have told me. I would never have gone to that practice. But what really broke up my marriage in the end was the fact that in the middle of all this going on, Robyn had an abortion, telling me it was her body, her choice. I knew I could never forgive her for that. We should at least have talked about it. But guess what?’ Elliot took a deep breath. ‘As she was driving away yesterday, she gave me that final knockout blow. She told me that the baby she had aborted wasn’t mine.’
Briony gave a shocked gasp. ‘She’d been having an affair? Became pregnant, let you believe you were the father, before having an abortion? That was unbelievably cruel of her.’
They both sat silently for several moments, Briony realising that Elliot was close to tears, if not crying. She searched for ways to comfort him.
With Elliot still holding her hand tightly, Briony stood up. ‘Come on, you need a therapeutic hug with a tree,’ she said, catching hold of his other hand and pulling him up. ‘Hugging a tree always helps in stressful times.’
‘I’d rather hug you today,’ Elliot said quietly. ‘May I?’
Briony smiled at him but shook her head. ‘Another time. I think today you need a tree hug more,’ and she took him over to the big oak.
To her surprise, he didn’t protest but slowly raised his arms as if in a daze and placed them around the trunk of the tree, closing his eyes, Briony stifled a sigh of regret as she moved away to keep an eye on the dogs. Elliot would never know how much it had cost her to refuse him a hug. She’d longed to hug him, to comfort him, but an inner instinct told her that he was more in need of some of those calming phytoncides from the oak tree than a hug from her.
Another woman in his arms when the actions of his ex-wife were continuing to hurt him so much was not necessarily a good idea. Especially when her own feelings towards him were all over the place. Deep within herself, Briony hoped that one day soon Elliot would want to hug her for no other reason other than he liked her. And when that happened, she’d happily hug him back.
37
When Briony and Meg got back to Owls Nest, Jeannie had finished her toast and coffee breakfast and was busy peeling potatoes ready for lunch. She glanced up as Briony walked into the kitchen. ‘You all right? Long walk?’
‘No longer than usual, but Elliot was at the lake and he wanted to talk.’
‘Ah, how is he after yesterday’s upset?’
‘Thinking murderous thoughts about his ex-wife,’ Briony said. ‘But otherwise he’s okay. I did invite him for lunch, but Lucy and the family are expecting him. Can I just grab a coffee before I start peeling vegetables?’
‘Of course. Time for toast too if you want it. I’ll join you with another coffee,’ Jeannie said.
By the time Yann arrived carrying a bottle of champagne, bunches of flowers and Easter eggs for them both, everything was prepped and both the dauphinoise potatoes and the lamb were ready to go in the oven.
Jeannie thanked him and put the bottle of champagne in the fridge to chill, taking out the one she’d placed there overnight.
‘I thought we could toast Giselle with a glass after we’ve scattered her ashes,’ Jeannie said quietly. ‘She was very fond of a glass of champagne. So shall we take this cold one out to the terrace and open it when we’ve said our final goodbyes?’
Out on the terrace, Jeannie placed the bottle in the wine cooler that Briony had put on the table with three glasses and turned to pick up the urn from the low wall at the end of the terrace. Silently, the three of them made their way to the trees at the bottom of the garden, stopping in front of the oak with the hollowed-out branch.
Carefully, Jeannie took the lid off the urn and slowly began to shake the ashes free. Whilst Yannick stood at her side, his eyes closed as he said his personal goodbye to Giselle, Briony softly recited the first verse of ‘Remember’, the Christina Rossetti poem.
