A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel

by Françoise Bourdin

  Though fatherly and benevolent, with those few words Aurélien was establishing his natural authority. Robert felt like a kid again and, for a moment, didn’t think about Pauline.

  The dreaded encounter took place later that morning, on the terrace, where the family had gathered for breakfast. That’s where Robert found Pauline and Louis-Marie. He overcame his initial hesitation and made himself go over to them. His older brother sprang to his feet right away. Pauline, much more at ease, flashed her brother-in-law a dazzling smile, wanting to thank him for coming.

  She’d gone to see him at the hospital. She’d found the courage not only to make an appointment under a false name, but to approach him without embarrassment or false shame.

  Many years ago, when he was a very young man, Robert had been quite the skirt chaser. Everything was going his way back then: His career as a surgeon was off to a terrific start and he had great success with the ladies. Satisfied with his short-lived affairs, he’d driven many women crazy and made a lot of enemies among his rivals. From a good family, elegant, charming, Robert had for a long time cast his superb green eyes on the world with the indifference of a spoiled child. Then he’d met Pauline and fallen madly in love with her. Dazed, he experienced with her a love story he thought would last forever. Until Louis-Marie came on the scene.

  Robert vividly remembered that dinner at his brother’s. Robert and Louis-Marie saw a lot of each other then, and Robert couldn’t wait to introduce Pauline to him. The evening had been a catastrophe, as Pauline and Louis-Marie had liked each other at first glance. In spite of a fifteen-year difference in age, they seemed to be made for each other, and they’d flirted in an obvious, provocative, relentless fashion. Leaving his brother’s place that night, Robert knew that his was a lost cause. He knew it, but couldn’t accept it. His passion for Pauline made him believe that he wouldn’t be able to live without her. Their breakup was awful, and Robert refused to see Louis-Marie again. He threw himself desperately into his work, was tempted by suicide, turned to excessive drinking, and wound up virtually never leaving the hospital, carrying his grief like a cross. Oddly, it was his department head’s car crash that saved him, as he suddenly became the man in charge. He had to concentrate on Lariboisière Hospital. He forgot about Pauline and relegated Louis-Marie to the back of his mind, along with Fonteyne and, for good measure, his entire family. Jules wrote to him five or six times a year, and Robert forced himself to reply. It was his only link to the Laverzacs. Robert explained the reasons for his systematic absence to his brother, his categorical refusal to come back to Fonteyne. As expected, Jules didn’t comment. Louis-Marie married Pauline, and they had a little girl, Esther. For both the wedding and the baptism, Jules came up with a pretext for Robert not to attend. The brothers all agreed not to tell their father about any of it. And if, as a result, Aurélien at times thought that Robert was a bit of an ingrate for being so distant, at least he didn’t look at his daughter-in-law with horror. In fact, he looked at her with affection and glee, as Pauline’s exquisite charm had quite an effect on Aurélien, who still enjoyed pretty women. And that she was, more of a playful girl than a woman—and like a child, both funny and exasperating.

  And so it had been adorable Pauline who’d come, with such composure, to lecture Robert in his very own medical fiefdom. She’d managed to convince him, rather easily, to make peace. He’d let her speak, floored that he was still so vulnerable, horrified to find himself back at square one. He’d only accepted in order to make her stop talking, so that she would leave, and so he could see her again, overcome as he was by contradictory feelings. Then, as promised, he’d come to Fonteyne, and now there she was smiling at him, without affectation.

  Robert made himself look away from her and his eyes met Louis-Marie’s. He detected just a trace of embarrassment on his brother’s face. Realizing that Aurélien was observing them, he suddenly extended his right hand.

  Louis-Marie grabbed it and shook it with insistence.

  “Since when are you boys so formal?” Aurélien asked.

  “It’s been a long time,” Louis-Marie replied.

  Robert let go of his brother’s hand.

  “But you live in the same city, for crying out loud!” Aurélien said.

  He pushed his newspaper aside and gestured at Fernande for a refill of coffee.

  The voice of Alexandre, who was dashing up the path outside, interrupted them.

  “Bob! Bob!”

  Alexandre reached the top of the stairs, out of breath, and ran to Robert. He kissed his brother on the cheeks and slapped him on the back.

  Aurélien cut the effusions short with an abrupt question, “Where’s Jules? I’ve been looking for him for an hour!”

  Louis-Marie and Alexandre burst out laughing. Robert had heard those words come out of his father’s mouth in every tone imaginable. He felt at home.

  “Jules is in the barn with Lucas,” Alexandre said. “He’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

  Alexandre never showed any sign of impatience, in any situation. He never rebelled against his father’s authority, never exhibited any jealousy toward Jules. He sat next to Robert, asking him about his life in Paris. As for Louis-Marie, he was watching his wife closely. Jules suddenly appeared on the terrace—no one had heard him arrive.

  “You lazy bums are just sitting around drinking coffee?”

  He was joking, happy to find them all there, hands buried in his jeans. Aurélien threw an annoyed look his way.

  “Problems with a tractor?” he asked sharply.

  “Yes, the Massey. Nothing major, though …”

  “Two weeks before harvest …”

  Aurélien stared down his son.

  “Maybe we’re just sitting around,” he said, “but you’re a month behind your planning!”

  Jules frowned and glared at his father.

  “I don’t think so …” he muttered.

  Pauline broke into laugher, and Aurélien turned to her.

  “I’m sorry,” she was able to say, “but I always forget, year after year, how you two are so …”

  She stopped herself.

  Aurélien waited for the rest, cold as ice.

  “So … what?” he asked.

  “So … Umm…”

  “Busy,” Jules suggested.

  Pauline managed to stop laughing and gave him a look of gratitude.

  “That’s it,” she said. “Busy.”

  “Well,” Aurélien barked, “unlike some people, we’re not on vacation.”

  He got up and left the terrace.

  “Your father,” said Pauline, “is touchy as ever …”

  “If you weren’t so charming,” Jules said calmly, “he’d have told you to go to hell a long time ago.”

  Pauline smiled, flattered in any case.

  “Thanks for the compliment, Jules,” she said.

  She reached for the straw hat that had been left on a chair. It was hot and a few wasps were buzzing above the pots of jam. Robert observed Pauline as she set the hat over her blonde curls. Eager to have the last word, she asked, in a very serious manner, “You guys get up early, you go to bed late, you walk up and down the vineyards nonstop, you try to balance the books … Do you ever find the time to just live?”

  Jules shrugged.

  Stubborn, Pauline kept at it.

  “It’s not like you actually have to watch the grapes grow. They ripen by themselves, right?”

  Jules started to laugh, heartily, that particular Laverzac laugh, short and light.

  “Pauline,” he said, “you’re too funny! One of these days I’m going to have to show you how things work around here, in detail. It’s very complex. … Louis-Marie’s never told you anything about it?”

  And then he spun around and scampered down the terrace’s steps, heading back to work. Pauline watched him go.

  “He’s superb,” she said with an air of innocent longing that amused her husband.

  Still feeling Robert’s gaze on her, P
auline turned to him and said, point blank, “It was so very nice of you to come …”

  He managed to produce a smile. She got to her feet, stretched in a brazen manner, and waved goodbye to everyone with the straw hat, announcing, “I’m going to have a shower now.”

  Louis-Marie followed her inside the house, and Robert poured himself a cup of coffee.

  “It must be cold by now,” Alexandre said softly.

  Robert’s distress was so obvious it made Alexandre feel bad. Dominique’s arrival freed them from the awkwardness of the situation. She hurried over to Robert and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Brother-in-law! It’s been so long! Much too long, if you ask me. Your father wouldn’t ever admit it, but you know he’s thrilled to see you.”

  She was so joyful and easygoing that Robert felt some relief. Dominique’s cheerfulness was contagious. She stacked the coffee mugs on a tray, talking all the while.

  “You’re going to tell us about life as a big shot in that hospital of yours, right? Fernande is planning a dinner that’s going to make you regret having stayed away from here all these years. I so wanted to drive that swanky automobile of yours to run some errands this morning, but Jules wouldn’t give me the keys! So you’re still spending a fortune on cars? By the way, Alex, Lucas is looking for you. It has to do with some barrels …”

  Alexandre took off right away and Robert lit a cigarette. Dominique’s presence was making his day. She sat for a moment and stared at Robert.

  “You seem a little down. … We’re going to take good take of you here.”

  “How are you doing?” Robert asked Dominique with a very serious look on his face.

  “Good! I love Alex, the twins are growing up nicely, and I manage to stand your father. That’s saying a lot. Fonteyne is doing well and, if we can avoid a hailstorm, things will be nice and calm for a while after the harvest. Until then, though, there’s a lot to be done.”

  Back on her feet, Dominique grabbed the overflowing tray. Robert didn’t have the strength to give her a hand, so he just watched her walk back into the house. He felt hot. For years, thinking about Pauline had been nothing short of torture, but now Robert decided that it probably wouldn’t be any worse to see her on a regular basis. And the other members of the family formed a sort of reassuring barrier. Besides, such an absurd situation couldn’t have lasted forever.

  “Sorry. You were daydreaming?”

  Robert was startled as Louis-Marie’s hand landed on his shoulder. They traded careful and neutral glances.

  “Maybe you and I should …” said Louis-Marie. “I mean, whatever you want. …”

  He sat down beside his brother, waiting for his reaction.

  “I’d rather not talk about it,” Robert said, slowly. “It’s really a thing of the past. …”

  He didn’t mean that, but he simply wasn’t able to say anything else.

  Louis-Marie was hoping for a word or gesture of good will.

  “I’ve kept up with what you’ve been doing these past six years, through Jules. But you know how he is—a man of few words. … When Pauline told me she’d gone to talk to you at the hospital, I thought … I’m hoping we’ve let enough time pass. A huge weight would be lifted off my shoulders if we could wipe the slate clean, you know.”

  Louis-Marie spoke in a soft voice.

  Robert was peering at the vines, unsettled by his brother’s sincerity. It suddenly dawned on him how much this landscape moved him. The crests and valleys he could make out on the horizon, the scrawny and tenacious vegetation beyond the vines, the blending of colors and shades—all of it brought him back to his childhood.

  “I came here to make peace,” he finally said.

  Robert felt no real tenderness toward his oldest brother, as it was impossible for him to forget about Pauline. Louis-Marie understood Robert’s reluctance to talk, and he didn’t press things. He wanted to end their quarrel for good.

  “We were here in the summertime,” he said, “but never, ever, at any other time of the year. Nothing was preventing you from coming, to see Dad or …”

  Robert sighed.

  “My work is pretty insane, you know. … This department-head position fell in my lap, and not everybody was thrilled about it …”

  Once again his career served as a pretext. Louis-Marie kept quiet for a few moments before saying, “Does the expression ‘no hard feelings’ seem like a bit of an overstatement to you?”

  “Indeed!” Robert shot back.

  He didn’t feel like yielding for Louis-Marie’s sake, but rather out of a sense of loyalty to Fonteyne, a desire to become a Laverzac once again.

  “Indeed,” he said once again, “but since it’s what people say …”

  He was about to add something when he spotted Jules resting against the house a short distance away.

  “You’re eavesdropping now?” Robert snapped.

  Jules shrugged and said, “It’s not like I was hiding behind a door.”

  The three brothers looked at one another in silence.

  “I think we’re just about ready for lunch,” Jules said.

  Robert got up and leaned on Louis-Marie for a second, as a gesture of peace. But his heart wasn’t in it.

  As they went inside and made their way to the dining room to meet the others, Jules, who was right behind Robert, whispered, “You did the right thing, you know. Now, pretend like you don’t even think about it anymore.”

  Robert turned around and shot his brother a furious look, but Jules gave him a shove and smiled. They were blocking the entrance to the room and Dominique, stuck behind them, said, “You guys coming or going or what?”

  They stepped aside to let her in. In her hand was a bottle of Côtes-de-Blaye.

  “It’s from Daddy,” she said, triumphant.

  Dominique had married Alexandre ten years earlier. She also was the child of a wine producer and had known the Laverzacs forever. Her father, Antoine Billot, was an old friend of Aurélien’s, and the marriage had delighted both families. Antoine and Marie Billot had only two daughters, no sons. Aurélien, ever aware of heritage, was all for Alexandre’s choice. Aurélien was already Dominique’s godfather, and he was thrilled at the idea of being her father-in-law, keeping an eye on the Blaye estate at the same time. But first he had to wait and see what Laurène, the second daughter, was going to do. And what she began doing was something nobody had expected—“foolishness.” At least that’s what Aurélien called it, after she confided in him. She came to him one winter evening, in tears. She was eighteen then, and already very pretty. In one breath, she told him all her troubles: She had an affair with one of her father’s employees, and now he was threatening to sue the family. She feared that it was going to turn into a scandal or end in tragedy. Aurélien began by calming her down. He wanted to help Laurène, as he knew her well enough to consider her something of a daughter. But, more than anything else, he was moved by her charm. He didn’t admit it to himself, and played the role of mediator with a light heart. As Laurène had just received her high school diploma, he offered her a job as a secretary at Fonteyne, taking her under his protection. She accepted right away, delighted to come live near her sister, relieved at having found employment and a solution to her problems at the same time.

  If Antoine was surprised by his youngest daughter’s sudden decision, he showed no sign of it. He couldn’t afford to hire her himself and he assumed, logically, that Laurène must have had feelings for Jules. This thought came naturally to every father in the entire region, as Jules was seen as a great catch.

  Antoine wasn’t actually wrong, he was only a bit premature. No young woman remained indifferent to Jules for very long. Everyone approaching Jules felt an irresistible attraction to him, and Laurène was just another victim.

  They could’ve very easily fallen in love with each other, but a number of things stood in their way. First was the ambiguous attitude displayed by Aurélien, who pretended to look after Laurène as though he were her
father. Then there were Dominique’s repeated warnings—she wanted to avoid any trouble at Fonteyne and considered Jules a chronic womanizer. Finally, their mutual extreme shyness kept them apart. Laurène watched Jules without daring to approach him, and Jules mostly just watched his vines. Laurène smiled at Jules, and Jules smiled at everybody. When Laurène tried to open up to him, Aurélien always found some excuse to send Jules somewhere else on the estate or would insist on dictating a supposedly urgent letter to her. Jules was vaguely aware of his father’s attitude, but didn’t bother analyzing it. Laurène was getting desperate, but didn’t have the courage to go against Aurélien’s will. The seasons passed, and the misunderstanding continued.

  During that time, however, Laurène was learning about winemaking as well as if she’d remained in Mazion with her father. She was extremely grateful to Aurélien for having taken her under his wing, and perhaps a bit flattered by the unusual kindness he showed her. The year before, though, at a party where everyone had a lot to drink, he nearly went too far. And because she hadn’t resisted, being just as drunk, but above all too timid to protest, he’d stopped himself just in time. They wound up sitting on the office couch, saved by Aurélien’s burst of laughter. Though having a young mistress wouldn’t have bothered him, he’d told Laurène, Antoine’s daughter would be the wrong choice. Of course, that was only if she’d have been willing, something he didn’t want to know, he said, in order to protect his old male ego. Laurène was touched by Aurélien’s honesty as well as his clumsy compliment. In order to sweep the incident under the rug, Aurélien suggested that she turn her attention to Jules, something she’d already been doing for a long time. But Jules had gotten used to the young woman’s presence at Fonteyne, and what he had interpreted as deliberate indifference on her part. And though Jules sometimes enjoyed homing in on his father’s conquests, he decided it was best to avoid Laurène.

  “Is everything okay, son?” Aurélien asked Jules from across the room, snapping him out of his reverie.

  “Yes,” Jules said. “We sprayed the vines today.”

  He went over to sit by his father and began to open the bottle of Côtes-de-Blaye.