Page 113 of Never Too Late
‘Mmm. Isn’t it?’ I replied.
‘Anyway,’ she carried on, apparently unaware of the slight frisson that had just rippled around the room. ‘The last laugh was on them as they persevered and she ended up hosting the best house parties and people were dying to get invites from her. She had maharajahs dripping with jewels, the latest poets, explorers. All sorts. Isn’t that brilliant?’
‘It is. Are you going to mention that in your vlogs?’
‘Definitely. I love that she stayed true to herself and their love and still made it.’
Dinner was served and after, we moved to the drawing room. Tomas asked how Sasha was getting on with her filming.
‘I’ve got some great footage of the house and grounds already. Benoit is going to show me the meadows tomorrow. Did you see them this afternoon?’
‘Is he now?’ I asked, my eyes flicking to his and catching the faintest blush.
Gabby sniggered and quickly turned it into a cough as I swung my eyes to her.
‘Perhaps we could all go?’ Tomas suggested.
‘Yeah. That’d be…’ Benoit seemed a little less enthusiastic.
‘Oh, yes! That would be lovely. Maybe we could take a picnic?’ Sasha had always loved a picnic and suddenly, she was my little girl again, wishing for a picnic even though it was tipping with rain. So we’d had car picnics and carpet picnics with potted plants around us, pretending we were deep in the jungle.
Of course, her favourite part ofEmmawas the picnic scene. The first time she’d turned to her father, aged twelve, when he’d said something a bit thoughtless and announced that it had been ‘badly done indeed’, I’d hardly been able to control my laughter. Moments later, having given her opinion, she’d stalked off and we’d been free to burst out laughing, the upset forgotten. It might not have been a marriage of passion but it had been one of love and from it had come the one thing I held above all others.
‘A picnic sounds perfect,’ Tomas stated, casting a glance at his godson. ‘I shall arrange it myself.’
I leant over. ‘It’s OK. She already likes you,’ I said in a loud whisper, with slightly tiddly giggles.
Sash gave me a ‘haha’ look, pushed herself up from the sofa and came across to where Tomas and I were sitting together on a very small two-seater loveseat. It might not actually have been that small but I’d forgotten just how much space Tomas took up. But I loved it. I loved being snuggled against him and thankfully, judging by the genuine hug that Sash now gave him, my daughter now approved too.
‘Well, this seems like a very jolly party.’
The clear evening sky had brought a chill. The old house might be beautiful but can’t have been efficient at heat retention. To stave off the coolness, a crackling fire had been lit in the ornate fireplace but those few words sent ice down my spine despite the roaring heat that, just moments ago, had been turning us all a little pink.
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I felt Tomas shift beside me, sensing the stiffening of my body.
‘Grandmère!’ Benoit jumped up and hastened towards the sound of her voice. Something inside me acknowledged the warmth in his tone. The joy at seeing her. Clearly, he was accepted as family in every way. I was happy for him and for Tomas in that. But as for other feelings? Right now, there were too many racing about to pin any specific one down. That would come, though. I knew.
I could feel Gabby’s eyes burning into me but I refused to look up. Not yet.
‘Mama.’ She rose next and from the corner of my eye, I saw an embrace. The voice was coming nearer now.
‘Gabby, darling. And this must be Ashok. How delightful to meet you at last.’
‘And you, Madame Bertholle.’
‘Ah, tsk. None of that formality here. Please call me Isobel.’
I practically choked. This from the Queen of Formality. But then Ashok was successful, rich and handsome. He would, of course, meet with approval.
It was Tomas’s turn to stand. ‘Mama.’ He embraced her too. ‘You’re looking very well. Your cold has gone now?’
‘It has, thank you.’
And that’s when it struck me. I flicked my eyes across to Sash, who was looking at me with a slightly panicked expression. I ticked the corner of my lips up in an effort to let her know I was fine. Although I wasn’t fine. Because what I’d realised was that they knew. They all, apart from Sash clearly, knew this woman was going to be here.
‘Grandmère, this is Sasha, who I told you about,’ Benoit began.
