by T A Williams
‘Hello, darling, how good to hear from you.’
‘Hi, Dad. Are you all packed and ready?’ He was coming over in just four days’ time. ‘It’s still warm here, so you shouldn’t need your winter woollies.’ Somehow, talking about the weather seemed the easiest way of starting this conversation.
‘Well, we all definitely need jumpers over here, and jackets. It’s lashing down with rain. So, what’s new with you, Faye?’
Faye took a deep breath. ‘There’s been a development. Dad, did you know that mum was adopted?’
‘Your mother?’ There was understandable surprise in his voice. Neither of them had spoken about her for a good while. ‘Yes, of course. She was brought up in Cornwall. Why do you ask?’
‘And her maiden name was Trelawny?’
‘That’s right: Margaret Alison Trelawny. But …?’
‘Trelawny was the name of her adopted family. Did you ever know her original surname?’
‘I’m not sure I did.’
‘Well, Dad … it was Beech.’
‘Beech …?’ There was a pause, during which she could almost hear the gears in his brain working. ‘Beech … as in Anabelle Beech?’
‘That’s right.’ Faye went on to give him an abbreviated account of Miss Beech’s story and she could sense his astonishment at the other end of the line. As she finally finished, she could hear him thinking out loud.
‘So, that’s why she wanted you to invite me over?’
‘To be honest, Dad, it was my idea first, but when I said I’d suggested it to you, she got very enthusiastic and told me to make sure you did come.’
‘So she was your mum’s mum …’ She heard him clear his throat. ‘I met her adopted mother and father of course, but they died shortly after she did, as you know. They got her when she was newly born and they never mentioned her real origin.’ He paused for a few moments. ‘So, does this change anything for you? Do you still want me to come over on Saturday?’
‘Yes, of course. I really want you to meet her. You’ll like her a lot, I’m sure. I was wondering if maybe you could bring over any photos of mum. She’s only ever seen two: the beach one on my phone and one of your wedding day.’
‘Yes, of course, I’ll have a hunt around.’ Another pause. ‘Faye, this is amazing, truly amazing. Is the story going to appear in the book?’
‘She hasn’t made up her mind yet. I’ve told her I really need to know pretty soon.’
After talking to her father, Faye slipped her phone back in her pocket and carried on with her walk. To her delight, half an hour later, as she was once more down in the fields, she spotted a familiar figure, accompanied by George the dog.
‘Hi, Gavin, how’re you doing?’ She hadn’t seen him since the dance over a week ago and she had missed him. ‘Things calming down on the farm now?’
‘Hi, Faye.’ He looked pleased to see her, too, but his smile was a still bit strained. ‘Yes, now the grape harvest’s over and done with, things are a lot quieter.’
‘My dad’s coming to stay for a few days next week. Do you think the good weather will hold?’
He managed a more genuine smile. ‘If you’re looking for a bit of countryman folklore about cows lying down or bees flying upside down, you’ve asked the wrong man. Don’t forget, I’ve spent most of my working life with a suit on. I get all my weather information from the TV and they’re saying it’s set fair for a good long while.’
‘The pool’s still a lovely temperature, if you’ve got time for a swim. Dominique and Elise were there with me just yesterday.’
‘Yes, she told me. Thanks for that, as always.’ Just for a second, she sensed that he hesitated, but the moment passed.
A distinct feeling of disappointment spread through Faye. Pretty obviously, their brief moment of intimacy at the dance wasn’t going to be repeated any time soon. He was sticking to his promise to himself: Dominique and Elise came first. She did her best to stifle her regret and gave him as broad a smile as she could manage. ‘Well, if you change your mind, you know where I am.’
‘Of course.’ He hesitated, his eyes catching hers for a moment, and she read what could have been regret in them. After a few seconds she saw him make another attempt at a smile and a change of topic. ‘Looking forward to seeing your dad?’
‘Yes, I really am.’ And she meant it.
‘That sounds good. And the book? Getting on well?’
For a moment Faye toyed with the idea of mentioning Miss Beech’s bombshell, but decided to keep this to herself, at least for now. ‘Getting on very well. To be honest, it’s not that far off completion. Another few chapters and then a complete overhaul.’ She remembered something she and her grandmother had discussed. ‘I don’t suppose you feel like being a beta reader, do you?’
‘Beta reader?’
‘Would you feel like taking a look at the book for me? It would be good to get somebody to read it and comment before I produce the final, final version. It could be that Miss Beech and I are too close to it and there’s stuff in there that doesn’t work to somebody unfamiliar with the events. But as Miss Beech wants it to be kept confidential, she’s only happy for it to be read by people she can trust. And that means you.’
‘Of course, I’d be honoured. Just say the word.’
‘Fantastic. Thanks. Now, while I’ve got you, there’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask. Do you remember my asking if you’d be prepared to come along to my English course one evening?’
‘Yes, indeed. You popped the question in front of Miss Beech and Dominique. How could I say no? That was, by the way, sneaky and underhand. Have you ever considered a career in used car sales?’
Faye giggled. ‘I’ve got enough on my plate as it is without taking on a third job. Anyway, I reckon we’ll be ready for you in a few weeks’ time. I promise it’ll only take twenty minutes or so in each class. Say, just under an hour altogether.’
He nodded and gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘If I must, I must. But what do you want me to do?’
‘Maybe we can get together for half an hour before then and I’ll run through the sort of thing I want you to say.’
‘Just tell me when. Seriously, I’m happy to help out.’
Well, Faye thought to herself, at least this would be another way of keeping in contact with him. And contact with him was something she knew she wanted, complications or no complications.
Chapter Sixteen
When Faye saw her father walk out through the sliding doors at Nice airport, she very nearly burst into tears. She was still trying to work out just why she had had that surge of emotion as she drove out of the airport and onto the motorway. Whatever the reason, she had hugged him tighter than she could ever remember, and he had appeared equally moved.
During the hour and a half that it took to drive back to the chateau, she related in more detail what she had already told him on the phone about Miss Beech and Sol the producer, the subsequent pregnancy, the birth, and the adoption. He was fascinated and she had to remind herself that this was as personal to him as it was to her. He had married Miss Beech’s daughter, after all.
‘I’ve found a load of photos, not just of the wedding. There might even be a few you haven’t seen. I hope she likes them.’ A note of compassion entered his voice. ‘I feel for your grandmother, I really do. When I lost your mother, at least I still had you. Your Miss Beech was left with nothing and nobody.’
Faye cast a quick look across at him. ‘You’ll always have me, Dad. Always.’
Once back at the chateau, Faye took her dad on a tour, starting with the flat. As an architect, he was clearly fascinated by what the designers had done to the inside to modernize it, while respecting the historic features and its medieval charm. After a cup of tea, she persuaded him to accompany her to the pool for a swim and she was pleased to see him looking fit and well. Clearly, he was thinking along the same lines as they took turns to stand under the shower afterwards.
‘You’re a fine-looking
girl, Faye. I imagine you’ve probably got half the male population of the village running after you.’
Faye laughed. ‘Three-quarters of the population of St-Jean are older than you and me combined, Dad, so that doesn’t leave many possible suitors.’ Then, in a surprising break from tradition, she found herself talking to him about Gavin, something she would never have done only as recently as a few months ago. Close as she was to her father, boyfriends and her dad definitely hadn’t mixed. Up to now. ‘There’s one man, the local farmer, and I like him a lot, but he’s sort of taken.’
‘Sort of taken?’
Faye gave her dad a swift précis of Gavin’s situation as they lay down on the sun beds to dry off. There was still real warmth in the sun, and the bees were humming around them. She wondered idly if they had come all the way up the hill from Gavin’s hives. When she finished, she had to wait a while for her father to respond. Finally, he gave it a try.
‘I can understand what he’s doing, you know. What it means is that he’s a really caring sort of man, determined to help his sister-in-law and the little girl, and that’s something to be admired. As for his sister-in-law, she’ll get herself sorted out before too long, you’ll see, and then I’m sure you’ll get him.’
Faye was grateful for the encouragement, but she didn’t share his optimism.
At six o’clock, Faye led him over to the chateau. They were greeted at the kitchen door by Marlon who, seeing Faye, didn’t even bark at her father. Instead, he came to greet them both with his tail wagging. Inside, Faye introduced her dad to Claudette before following Marlon through to the lounge.
By this time her father was looking quite nervous and Faye caught his hand in hers and gave it a little squeeze. Miss Beech and Eddie were both in there, sitting by the fireplace as usual. As they spotted Faye and her father, they both rose to their feet. Faye was very pleased to see that both of them achieved this without too much difficulty.
‘Faye, my dear, thank you so much for bringing your father to see us.’ Miss Beech was smiling at both of them as they came into the room.
Faye led her father across and introduced him to the two of them. ‘Dad, this is Anabelle Beech and Eddie Marshal. I’ve told you all about them.’
‘Hello, good evening.’ She could see her father was very tense and on his very best behaviour. ‘I’m David Carter.’ After shaking hands with them both, he returned his eyes to Miss Beech, who had been studying him closely. ‘I’m afraid I’m feeling remarkably nervous. It’s as though I was about to ask for Margaret’s hand all over again.’ He swallowed hard and had to pause for a few moments before carrying on. Faye gave his hand a gentle squeeze. His voice was a bit hoarse as he picked up again. ‘She was a wonderful woman, Miss Beech. She was kind, clever, funny, and very, very beautiful. Why she chose me, I’ll never know.’
Miss Beech reached out and caught his arm, her eyes watery with emotion. ‘I’m so very glad she did, David. You don’t mind if I call you David, do you?’ He shook his head. ‘Between the two of you, you managed to produce a wonderful daughter: my granddaughter.’ Faye found herself blushing. ‘You should be very proud.’
‘Oh, I’m very proud, all right.’ His voice sounded a bit more normal again. ‘Faye’s a wonderful girl.’
‘Listen, you two, I’m standing right here, you know. At least wait until I’m out of the room and talk about me behind my back, will you?’ Faye did her best to lighten the atmosphere as she wiped her eyes with a tissue, and she noticed that her father and her grandmother were doing the same. Fortunately, Eddie stepped in with a practical suggestion.
‘What can I get you, David? Sun’s over the yardarm as you Brits say.’
‘A moment like this demands champagne, surely?’ Miss Beech checked with Faye and her father who both nodded in agreement and Faye was quick to do the honours, waving to Eddie not to bother himself. Accompanied by Marlon, she went over to the wine cooler, pulled out a bottle of champagne, and opened it with just a tiny pop. As she did so, she found her father watching her and was pleased to see him smiling once more.
‘You did that pretty expertly, Faye. I can see you’ve opened a few champagne bottles before.’
‘Only since I got here, Dad. And wait until you taste this stuff. It’s amazing.’
They all sat down and, slowly, the conversation began. After her initial emotional reaction to Faye’s father’s presence, Miss Beech soon recovered and was understandably keen to know as much as possible about her daughter, and Faye heard him do his best to answer all the questions. He produced the collection of photographs he had brought with him and they went through them together. It was years since Faye had seen them and some were indeed new to her, and, as she viewed them, she rapidly came to the realization that she and her mother looked far more similar than she remembered. In some of the photos the resemblance was quite spooky. She wasn’t the only one to notice.
‘Faye, you and your mother are like peas in a pod.’ Miss Beech held one of the photos up and studied it alongside Faye’s face. ‘You can’t begin to imagine just how it makes me feel to have you here with me.’ She glanced across at Faye’s dad. ‘It’s been a real joy to have Faye here, David. And you, of course.’
Dinner was served. This time, after a starter of scallops, seared in a hot pan and served with an avocado mousse, there were duck breasts and roast fennel. Eddie produced a couple of bottles of an amazing ten-year-old St-Estephe to go with it and, by the time they reached the îles flottantes, the conversation was going very smoothly and Faye had the distinct impression that Miss Beech rather liked, and approved of, her father.
For her part, it had been a wonderful evening, only marred by one small detail. She couldn’t work out what to call her grandmother. She had got so used to calling her Miss Beech that she didn’t dare try anything more intimate, so she spent the evening studiously avoiding calling her anything at all.
At well after ten, Miss Beech regretfully took her leave and headed upstairs to bed, thanking them both for coming to dinner. Faye and her father said goodnight to her and Eddie and walked through to the kitchen where Marlon the dog looked up hopefully from his basket. Faye glanced across at her dad.
‘I often take Marlon out for a walk at this time of night. Feel like coming with me, or would you like to go straight to bed after your journey?’
‘A walk sounds like a great idea.’ Faye clipped the lead onto the ever-willing dog and they went out into the moonlight. The sky was still clear and cloud-free, and within a minute or so, once their eyes adjusted to the dark, they were well able to find their way up the hill until they came out onto the open scrubland and turned onto the path, now dry as a bone after a good few days without rain.
Faye let Marlon off the lead and he trotted happily ahead of them, investigating all the bushes and scrawny thorn trees along the way. As Faye and her father walked, the scent of wild thyme and rosemary filled their nostrils and the distant call of some nocturnal bird was just about the only noise to be heard. It was peaceful, it was relaxing and, to Faye, it was now pleasingly familiar.
She reached over and took her father’s arm and clung to him happily as they walked along the hilltop to her favourite flat boulder, where she stopped and they sat down. They sat in silence for a few minutes, looking down over the valley below, the lights of the farms and villages punctuated by the headlights of an occasional car. After a while, Faye squeezed her father’s arm.
‘What are you thinking, Dad?’
There was a long pause before he answered. ‘I’m thinking what a lovely evening that was. I like your Miss Beech, your grandmother, a lot, and I can see that she thinks the world of you.’ She saw him turn his head towards her. ‘So, that makes two of us.’
‘I love you, too, Dad.’ Faye rested her head against his shoulder.
‘And I was thinking about your mother. Talking to your grandmother and looking at those photos brought it all back: a host of memories.’ The emotion in his voice was plain to hear and s
he gave his arm another gentle squeeze.
‘Dad, I’ve never asked you this before, but why didn’t you remarry?’
He stretched his arm around her shoulders and took his time before replying. ‘I suppose I just never met anyone who could compare to your mother. When you were young, I had my work cut out making a living and looking after you and I didn’t have much time for socializing, but the simple truth is that I’ve spent a lot of my life grieving. When you love someone dearly and they’re snatched away from you like that, your whole world is turned on its head.’ She heard him pause to take a couple of deep breaths. ‘Besides, Faye, I’ve always had you.’
Faye reached up and kissed him on the cheek, before burrowing up against him like a little girl. She couldn’t miss the parallel between what had happened to him and what had happened to Gavin. Both had lost somebody they loved in a sudden and senseless way and both had spent a long, long time grieving as a result. In her father’s case, this had lasted his whole life. She found herself having to face the unwelcome possibility that Gavin might never get over his poor dead wife and that, as he had said that night after the dance, was that.
Chapter Seventeen
‘Faye, why don’t you call me Anabelle, just like Eddie does?’ Miss Beech looked up with a smile at Faye’s latest attempt to find an appropriate way of addressing her grandmother. ‘I’m not sure how comfortable I feel at being called grandma. It makes me feel so old. I’m only eighty-two, after all. Nowadays that’s barely middle-aged.’ Her smile grew broader. ‘Yes, all right, who’m I trying to kid? But, anyway, how would Anabelle sound?’
‘Anabelle would sound fine, Miss Be …’ Then, realizing what she was about to say, Faye dissolved into a fit of giggles and Miss Beech, aka Anabelle, aka her grandma, joined in.
‘So what’s so funny, ladies?’ Faye looked up to see Eddie at the door of the study, walking stick in hand, but looking more rested and brighter than the previous night.
‘I’m trying to get my granddaughter to call me anything but grandma. We’ve just agreed on Anabelle, but I get the feeling it might take a while.’
