‘No,’ she said firmly, ‘I wasn’t teasing about paragliding and maybe…’ she avoided Laura’s eyes, ‘we’ll find a way to arrange something to do with paragliding when Laura and your father are there. We could watch it anyway. There’s no harm in that is there, Douglas?’ she confronted him.
‘Perhaps watching is all right,’ Douglas said doubtfully and Johnny’s smile made Alice feel she’d won a tiny victory, with Johnny anyway, Zara would take a little longer to get close to, she thought, but hopefully they’d get there in the end.
7
‘I’m glad now that I didn’t have children,’ Cecily said when she’d heard Alice’s description of the tea party. ‘I had twinges of regret after the war. But from my experience, listening to my friends with children, they sometimes do seem to be such a headache.’
Alice understood. Though she did not regret for one minute having her children, there had been a few – minor seeming now – gut-wrenching dramas at school and uni, but nothing so life changing as the muddles her daughters had got themselves involved in now.
‘You were a wonderful aunt though, Julian adored you, more than his own mother even.’
‘Ah, poor Sybil, she liked living such an ordered life, with her beautiful house and garden – an extension of the doll’s house she had as a child, where everything stayed just where she’d arranged it.’ Cecily’s eyes twinkled mischievously in her wrinkled face as she remembered her childhood. ‘Sometimes I used to get up in the middle of the night and cause havoc in that house. I was jealous of it, you see, but I hadn’t the patience to arrange it like she had.’
‘Cecily, how naughty, what happened?’ Alice laughed, remembering the difficult times she’d had with Julian’s mother. When she was first married and determined to do the right things, she’d suffered nights of anxiety about having the house spotless and tidy before her mother-in-law came. Julian would tease her, saying he’d always hated living in a museum, and it was her home and she must have it as she wanted it, as long as it was clean. He hated grubbiness and changed his clothes if ever there was a mark on them, but she didn’t mind that and felt she’d got off lightly, after all he could have taken after his mother and demanded a pristine house at all times.
‘I pretended I knew nothing about it and that it must have been the dolls or Beatrix Potter’s two bad mice. But I was fond of Sybil, she was wonderful when both my fiancés were killed, and I adored her children, especially Julian. And now I have you and your girls, I’m very lucky.’ Cecily smiled, ‘I have the luxury of children without the aggro.’
‘I suppose you do,’ Alice said, ‘and soon you’ll be a great-aunt.’
‘Heaven’s, I suppose I will.’ Cecily turned to Zarinda who’d just come into the room. ‘I shall have to stay alive a little longer to meet all these great-grandchildren, Zarinda, and hopefully go to Laura’s wedding, though what we’ll do about Evie, I don’t know.’
‘You’ll outlive us all,’ Zarinda said. ‘So you are to be a grandmother,’ she smiled at Alice.
‘Yes, in rather strange circumstances,’ Alice said. Zarinda took life as it came and never made uncomfortable remarks, but Alice had found it difficult to explain to some of her friends, especially the ones whose children had married in the conventional way to conventional people, that Evie would be a single mother and that the father was married and had various offspring scattered round East Anglia, and possibly further afield.
‘A child is a blessing however it comes,’ Zarinda said.
‘So true, and we’ll all love it,’ Cecily said. ‘And as they say, Alice, there’s nothing new under the sun. During the war there were many babies fathered by men no one knew at all, sometimes not even their names. Girls drinking too much – remember we were much more innocent then about alcohol and the facts of life, and it was a disgrace if you were caught out, even if you were ignorant of such things. People married quickly but often regretted it later. And the men who came back after the war often had become strangers from the dashing, amorous men those girls had fallen in love with.’ She sighed. ‘Each generation has its own problems.’
‘I know,’ Alice agreed, wishing she’d been spared these ones.
Seeing her expression, Cecily patted her hand. ‘You’ll cope. I know you will.’
Alice felt ashamed of her weakness. Cecily had lost the two men she loved before they’d barely lived, while she had been lucky having a life and children with Julian.
‘So, are you going to test-drive a car on your way home today?’ Cecily asked with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, and seeing Zarinda’s quizzical expression explained what Alice had done last time on her way home from visiting them.
‘No, not today, I’d better take the bus or walk down through the park in case the salesman sees me and tries to pressurize me into buying one.’
Cecily laughed, ‘You do amuse me, Alice. Now tell us about Laura’s wedding, who will give her away?’
It was so like Cecily to ask the question no one else had so far voiced. Who indeed? Julian had an older sister, Selena who had a son, Christian, who worked in some highly important job in Washington, and there were a few male cousins dotted about, none of whom they knew well.
‘You could do it,’ Cecily said. ‘I’ve been to a few weddings where a woman, usually the mother, gave the bride away. Unconventional, I know, but why not?’
Alice frowned, ‘I’d feel awkward somehow. I expect we’ll find someone, one of Julian’s friends or… someone. Anyway it’s up to Laura to choose.’ She didn’t want to think about it, which was stupid really as Julian wouldn’t come back to step in on the day, but somehow she didn’t want to accept that he would not be there to lead his daughter down the aisle.
‘Has Laura any ideas?’ Cecily asked.
‘It’s something we have to discuss,’ she said.
Cecily took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Julian will be much missed, but he’d expect you to find someone he approved of, I’m sure he’s got many good friends who’d be proud to take his place. I know… what about Frank Trevelyan, isn’t he Laura’s godfather? What would she think of asking him?’
‘Yes, he is her godfather but I don’t know where to find him. I think he still lives in France. I suppose I might have his address somewhere. He wrote me a letter when Julian died, but the address was of a hotel as he was away working.’ Alice felt reluctant to track him down but if Laura wanted him, she’d do her best to find him, although whoever took Julian’s place would not be the person they longed for.
Cecily said, ‘He’s such a nice man, he always sends me Christmas cards. If you like, I can look out his address and write to him, just to find him and inform him of the wedding, and then if we do make contact, leave it to Laura to ask him if that’s what she wants.’
‘That would be great, Cecily, thank you. I’ll tell Laura, so she can make up her mind what she wants.’
*
The next day when she met up with Petra and Margot, Alice told them about Cecily writing to Frank. ‘Just to make contact with him as we are not sure of his whereabouts as he travels so much,’ Alice explained.
‘Much quicker if I go and find him,’ Petra said eagerly. ’I’ve been thinking of going to Saint Tropez, and I’m certain he’s got a house around there, Port Grimaud, I think. He told me about it once; it belonged to his grandmother and he inherited it. He even invited me to stay,’ she giggled, ‘but I never got to go. But I’ll go and find him for you,’ she finished with a bad attempt of nonchalance and if offering to look up someone’s elderly uncle.
‘Oh really. Petra,’ Margot protested, ‘we’re in the time of computers, instant texts, emails and all. You don’t have to set out on long journeys, like some medieval traveller going on a pilgrimage. Anyway it’s almost August, the French go away then – le grande depart.’
‘Then he’ll be there,’ Petra sounded triumphant. ‘I’m only trying to be helpful. ‘I’m going to be in his part of France, so it’s only common sense to go and kno
ck on his door.’
‘And bring him back as a trophy, I suppose,’ Margot said sourly.
‘What a fuss you two are making over him,’ Alice broke in; wishing she hadn’t mentioned Frank at all if he was going to cause such upset between them. ‘I told you, Cecily’s going to write to him, he sends her cards at Christmas and she has an address for him and she offered, so I’m leaving it to her, thanks all the same, Petra,’ Alice said impatiently, annoyed with Petra for wanting to go and find Frank, remembering how attractive he was. No doubt she’d grab him as she had once grabbed their toys – and later some of the boys they were interested in – when they were younger.
How complicated everything was. Just thinking of it all exhausted her.
8
The plane from Singapore landed with a bump and a rush of engine noise at Charles de Gaulle airport, jolting Frank Trevelyan awake. He was cramped and stiff, his mouth dry, his eyes scratchy and he longed for a shower. These flights were so wearing and he felt stale and unkempt still wearing the same clothes he’d worn for almost twenty-four hours.
He’d take a few weeks off, he promised himself, France all but closed down in August when most people went on holiday. He thought longingly of his boat, he hadn’t had time to get it ready this year, he been swamped by work, but this case was done and he could relax a bit now. He’d go to his house in Port Grimaud and sail, let the sea breeze freshen him up. He was exhausted, he’d been working too hard these last months and it was time to let up, he could afford to take a break.
He pushed up the blind in the window beside him and looked out, it was raining, not heavily but enough, the sky pearly grey, thick like a blanket over the earth, quite different from the humidity, the hard light of the sun and the swarming bustle of Singapore. Strange, how you could completely change your environment in just a night, flying across the world. It must have been far more fascinating in the past when travellers had to physically make the journey, crossing land, countries and seas, and able to become accustomed to other races, different scenery and customs by being among them.
Hervey, his driver and assistant, was waiting for him at arrivals.
‘Bonjour, c’est bien passé? Everything good?’ Hervey was bilingual, as was Frank, and they communicated in both languages, sometimes not even knowing they had changed from one to the other.
‘Oui, merci, but glad to be back.’
While they crawled into Paris in the morning rush hour, Hervey filled him in with one or two business affairs, nothing that important, there were still a few loose ends to tie up on a couple of his legal cases which he must see to before the start of August, which was a few days away. He’d finished and filed the article he’d gone to write about an important takeover in Singapore, so after a few days in the office here to see everything was in order he’d escape down to the South.
‘You’re in demand anyway,’ Hervey said. ‘You had a call from an English lady with immaculate but quite old-fashioned French. Cecily Barnes, she was trying to contact you, make sure she had your correct address so you could be sent a wedding invitation’ He eyed him in the driving mirror, his pugnacious features split with a grin. ’It’s in London at Christmas time.’
Alice, the thought hit him, she’d been a widow almost two years now, was she getting married again? He felt a jolt of pain. But why shouldn’t she find love with someone else? She was far too young to remain alone for the rest of her life; naturally, a woman like her would not remain alone for long.
Hervey seeing his expression said, ‘It’s your goddaughter, she’s the one getting married.’
‘Oh…’ He felt a rush of relief, went on, ‘I only have one goddaughter, the rest are boys. It’s Laura, Julian’s daughter.’ Frank sat in silence, staring out at the crawl of cars beside him. He still missed him, missed his calls, their meetings when Julian came over on business or he was in London himself. He owed him so much; he’d been such a good friend. A friend he could always rely on to do the best he could in the situation as honestly as possible.
He thought of Cecily, Julian’s aunt. What a woman, they didn’t make them like her any more, a woman who’d given so much to her country that had snatched away even the men she’d loved, though, Julian had told him, she’d never been short of lovers, which didn’t surprise him.
‘Cecily sent you a letter,’ Hervey continued, ‘but she hadn’t heard and wondered if she’d got the right address so she telephoned the house in Port Grimaud. I was there, as you know, to check on the dubious plumbing. As yet no letter from her has arrived, I think she must have used your old address, from when you were married, but at least she’s tracked you down. She wants you to ring her or Alice, about this wedding.’
‘Did she leave Alice’s number?’ Frank asked carelessly, trying to ignore a surge of excitement. He wasn’t sure he had Julian’s home number in London; they had always contacted each other through the office or his mobile.
‘Yes, she didn’t know if you had it or not.’
‘I’ll ring her tomorrow,’ Frank said, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes a moment. They felt itchy and tired. He’d had the house at Port Grimaud for years now, with its ancient telephone and dodgy plumbing. Julian had come a few times, passing through from somewhere, but Alice never had. Now Laura, his goddaughter, was getting married and he must do his best to be there, anyway give her something nice for a wedding present. If he went to it, it would mean seeing Alice again.
He’d missed Julian’s funeral, been bogged down with a complicated assignment in India which he couldn’t leave. He’d been relieved, he thought guiltily. Julian’s death was hard to take after what they’d been through, he’d been the only person who knew the truth about it, and then there was Ned and Sarah.
‘So when did you say this wedding is?’ he asked Hervey.
‘Around Christmastime, the date hasn’t actually been decided, or hadn’t when Cecily rang. It will be in London so at least that’s easier than being deep in the country. You can stay in the flat.’
Somewhere, he had a letter from Alice when she’d written to him thanking him for his letter after Julian’s death. He’d found her grief so painful, he wished he could be with her to comfort her but was afraid to intrude as he had not seen her for so long.
Hervey filled him in with some of the news from his office here, small tiresome things to see to and he was relieved when they arrived at his Paris apartment. It was tiny, tucked into the middle floor of a beautiful house once occupied by one family, in the sixteenth arrondissement. Now he was alone he didn’t need anything bigger, it was compact and chic, full of the books and music he loved; if he wanted to entertain friends he went out, there were plenty of good places nearby to choose from.
He gave Hervey the rest of the day off knowing he probably wanted to get ready for his holiday, trekking somewhere in South America. They’d meet up tomorrow in the office to go through things then as soon as he could he’d head off for his house near Port Grimaud, and relax and sail.
He showered and then, feeling restless after being cooped up in a plane for so long, he went out into the bustling streets and walked up the hill to the Maison de Balzac. His mind was focused on Alice now. He remembered when he’d first seen her when Julian brought her to a party, having told him he’d met the girl he wanted to marry, only she was so much younger than he was.
‘Love is love,’ he’d said, amused that Julian had been so smitten, until he had met her. There was more to Alice than her looks, a sort of joy in life that captivated him. Her face had a pure beauty of which she seemed totally unaware, she was slight and slender and utterly in love with Julian.
He was pleased for his friend, of course he was, he should be anyway, he deserved so much, and yet Frank couldn’t help being drawn to Alice himself. There were so many reasons why he could not be with her. Besides, kind and friendly though she was to him, she only had eyes for Julian. He’d kept away all these years, seen Julian when he could, but he’d rarely seen her.
The years had passed now and she must have changed, grief anyway would have altered her. And he was different too, he’d been married and had grown-up children, knew how the problems of life often eroded love. It was easy to love from afar, when the object of one’s affections was rarely seen and then through gilded eyes and while on their best behaviour, letting the love grow unchecked by the foibles of character and life’s problems.
He was too experienced now to be seduced by feelings he’d experienced so long ago, tempted back into a youth that would not return. He’d contact Laura, congratulate her about her engagement and ask if there was anything she or her mother needed him to do, but there would be no mention of him once, long ago, being in love with Alice. He would keep a respectable distance; there were too many reasons, even now, all these years on, why they could never become close.
9
‘I do wish you hadn’t made those ridiculous remarks about paragliding to Johnny.’ Laura greeted Alice some days after the tea party. ‘He won’t stop saying you are going to take him to do it and Elspeth, Douglas’s mother, is having a hissy fit and of course…’ her face was anguished, ‘she’s taking it out on me.’
Alice sighed, tension squeezing at her and irritation with this woman for upsetting her daughter. ‘I’m sorry, darling, but…’
‘I’ve just come from seeing her, she really pisses me off, she always has a go at me, first it was about Evie having a baby she shouldn’t be – little digs like “it’s so selfish to have children as possessions and with another woman’s husband,” now she’s criticizing you for saying you’re going to paraglide and take Johnny with you.’ Laura glowered at her.
Alice dreaded meeting Elspeth, just the sound of her made her feel rebellious, provoking a determination to shock that she hadn’t experienced since her school days. Julian may not have been keen on the more adventurous side of life, but he was fun, had a wicked sense of humour, and although he would not have approved of Evie and Nick’s situation, he would not have been judgemental.
Mothers and Daughters Page 6
