Regrets

by Caragh Bell

  ‘He’s gone,’ she argued. ‘He won’t answer his cell.’

  Victoria pursed her lips. She was used to men and their childish ways. Frank had had his dalliances but she had ignored them. That’s what a good wife should do. Luca was probably sowing his wild oats before he took the plunge. Charlotte needed to get used to men and their misdemeanours.

  ‘I suppose I don’t need to tell you that men play by different rules.’

  Charlotte sniffed. ‘What do you mean, Momma?’

  ‘Luca will come back. They all do. You’ll have to be patient.’

  Charlotte jabbed her chest in outrage. ‘This is the twenty-first century! I’m not going to be that kind of woman.’

  ‘Is there another woman involved?’ Her mother stuck to her guns. ‘Is that why you’re sobbin’?’

  ‘I’m not sure. He was sweet on this Irish girl before.’

  ‘Go on,’ she encouraged.

  ‘Well, he met her at the wedding in Ireland and there was this spark between them.’

  Victoria sighed. ‘So you think he’s with her now?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Charlotte pulled the tassels on the cushion viciously. ‘He has been weird since we got back. It has to be because of her.’

  Her mother said nothing for a moment. Her daughter was going to have to learn about men; she would have to accept that they strayed. The reality was that they always came back.

  Charlotte was so naïve in the ways of the world. A bit like she herself was all those years ago, coming up from Georgia to a strange city. She remembered the late nights, the times Frank didn’t come home. The bills for flowers she didn’t receive, the receipts for jewellery that she never saw.

  ‘You gotta turn a blind eye sometimes, that’s all I’m sayin’.’ Her blue eyes were cold. ‘Luca will come back when he’s ready.’

  ‘Momma!’ Charlotte cried in outrage.

  ‘Jesus H. Christ, Charlotte, listen to me for a moment. This girl? She means nothing. Just you wait, honey pie. He’ll come runnin’ back.’

  Charlotte put her head in her hands. ‘I just wish he’d call. I don’t know where he is. I just wish I knew.’

  Victoria patted her back. ‘Now, now, sugar. Get dressed and we’ll go and have some ice cream downtown. I’ll give Marcheline a call. Maybe she knows.’

  ‘Mimi? She probably won’t tell you.’

  ‘And risk scandal?’ Victoria laughed sardonically. ‘She’s too uppity for that. I’ll sweet-talk it outta her, you just watch your momma, now.’

  Molly and Colin accompanied them to the airport. Her sister had been suitably shocked at the news of her departure.

  ‘What will Mum say?’ she said in awe. ‘I don’t think they can cope with another life change.’

  Lydia had been upset about that. She adored her parents and spoke to her mother every day. Helen would hit the roof when she realised her daughter was gone. To America, no less. She half-suspected that she would follow her out there. The only saving grace was that they weren’t due back from Mallorca for another week. It would give her the breathing space to get settled.

  Colin was visibly upset, his red, puffy eyes hidden behind giant Bvlgari shades. He was filled with trepidation; he had a gut feeling that she was making a huge mistake. He watched her carefully extract her passport from her handbag. Frowning in concentration, she unfolded the printout of her ticket and headed in the direction of the check-in desk. He followed her with a heavy heart, half hoping that she would be denied access to the plane. New York was too far away and he suspected that she was about to enter a den of wolves. It didn’t take a genius to see that this was all going to be extremely difficult; it would take real strength and commitment for their love to survive.

  Lydia felt strange as she approached the desk. It was like a scene from a movie; she had packed her life into a suitcase and was giving up everything to be with the man she loved. It was reckless, impulsive, romantic and crazy all rolled into one.

  Adam had been shocked at the news of her flight to New York. He was clearly fond of her and he was also going to miss her presence in the office, he said. She was punctual and efficient. She used her initiative and got things done. Now he would have to train someone new and that was a big inconvenience.

  He agreed to let her submit some work but said he wasn’t sure if it would work. He uncharacteristically offered her the option to work for him again if she ever found herself in the need of it. She had hugged him tightly in response.

  Val had tackled her when she was folding her jeans and stuffing them in her suitcase.

  ‘Have you lost your mind?’ he yelled.

  ‘No,’ was the reply and there was no more said. She knew he meant well, but it was no secret that he hated Luca and that made him biased.

  Colin escorted her to the check-in desk.

  ‘JFK?’ said the air hostess, smiling.

  Lydia nodded.

  Colin let out a strangled cry. ‘I can’t let you go!’

  ‘Will you stop?’ She pulled him close. ‘You can visit any time. You have to believe me – I’m doing the right thing.’

  He blew his nose on a silk handkerchief he had stashed up his sleeve. ‘I’m going to miss you terribly,’ he croaked. ‘I mean, we were living and working together. Who will I look after now?’

  ‘Val could do with some extra care,’ she said, tears filling her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry to leave, Col. You have to be happy for me.’

  ‘I’m happy if you’re happy.’

  ‘I am.’ She looked him square in the eye. ‘I have never been happier.’

  Luca sidled up behind them. ‘I’ve got to check in and then we’re all set.’

  Colin let out a sob. ‘I can’t watch. I have to look away.’

  ‘Hey, man. I’m just getting my boarding pass.’ Luca gave him a strange look.

  Molly grabbed Colin’s arm. ‘Come on, for God’s sake! You’re disgracing yourself. Sure, haven’t we FaceTime? The world is a tiny place now, Col.’

  He allowed her to lead him to the foot of the escalator. His hanky was now sodden.

  Luca and Lydia followed a few minutes later.

  ‘You’re a beautiful couple,’ observed Molly wistfully. ‘I swear, you look great together.’

  ‘Thanks, Mol.’ Lydia smiled at her. ‘It means a lot.’

  They hugged each other again for the final time.

  ‘Text me later, Lyd,’ ordered Colin, kissing both her cheeks. ‘I’ll be frantic.’

  ‘Text me too,’ added Molly. ‘And send me Mathis’s number, now that he’s single and all.’

  ‘Molly!’

  Chapter 40

  They landed in JFK at two p.m. local time. Luca hailed a cab as soon as they left the terminal building. Lydia gazed at the passing traffic, the crowds of people, the neon lights, and the tall buildings. She felt like Dorothy; this certainly wasn’t Kansas anymore.

  Luca stared moodily out the window as the cab sped along. Lydia could tell that was nervous; a muscle twitched in his cheek every so often and his mouth was set in a grim line.

  ‘So, where are we going first?’ she asked, squeezing his hand.

  ‘Mimi’s place,’ he replied. ‘You’ve got to meet her first.’

  The taxi pulled up outside the apartment building and the driver pressed the meter. ‘That’ll be fifty bucks,’ he said in his New York twang.

  Luca pulled out three twenties. ‘Keep the change,’ he said and vacated the car.

  Lydia felt a wave of nausea. She stared at the impressive stone building and smiled at the concierge as they walked in the main glass door.

  ‘Does she know you’re bringing me here?’ she asked, clutching his hand tightly.

  ‘No,’ he answered curtly. ‘But don’t worry. Mimi’s got my back.’

  The elevator pinged, signalling their arrival. The door opened to reveal an oak doorway with a small letter box which read: Madame Marcheline Jacob.

  Luca rang the doorbell. Nothing happened for a min
ute and then suddenly the old heavy door opened.

  Marcheline’s face lit up when she saw her grandson. ‘Luca!’ She pulled him close. ‘Luca, mon petit,’ she crooned. ‘Tu étais où? Where did you go?’

  He inhaled her Chanel No.5 and sighed. She symbolised home to him. His grandmother was the one constant in his life. She always supported him and rarely judged.

  Suddenly, she noticed Lydia, who was standing back, watching their tender exchange.

  ‘Luca?’ she asked warily.

  He pulled Lydia close. ‘This is Lydia, Mimi,’ he announced proudly. ‘The girl I love.’

  Marcheline’s face betrayed no emotion, despite her shock. Victoria du Maurier’s phone call the day before made sense now. She had rubbished her claims, deeming them ridiculous. Now, she stood spectacularly corrected.

  ‘You ’ad bettair come inside,’ she said eventually.

  ‘Come on, Lyd.’ Luca picked up both their bags and, going in, dumped them in the hallway.

  Lydia followed sheepishly, knowing this was the first of many awkward moments she would have to endure.

  Luca led her into the drawing room.

  She looked about in awe. The classic décor was immaculate. A giant marble fireplace dominated the room with silver and gold frames on the mantelpiece. Expensive art adorned the walls. She gasped when her eyes fell on a tiny painting by the window; she was pretty sure it was a Monet. The chairs were eighteenth-century French design, complete with gold legs and upholstered covers. Lydia could see Colin living here; he would adore it.

  Mimi regarded the girl cowering in the corner. Pretty, there was no denying that. But what in heaven’s name was she doing here?

  ‘What ees going on, Luca?’ She stood regally by the window. ‘Why do you breeng a girl ’ere? Where ees Charlotte?’

  Luca motioned for Lydia to join him on the couch. He put his arm around her shoulder possessively. ‘Remember when I went to Ireland that time? Remember when I came back? I was a mess.’

  Mimi nodded. ‘Bien sûr, I remember. You were vairy sad and you drank a lot.’

  ‘Well, Lydia was the reason. She broke my heart.’

  Mimi felt her pulse quicken. She could see where this was going.

  ‘Et alors?’ she said.

  Lydia’s face reddened. It was strange to be talked about in that way. She wanted to speak, but she decided against it. Luca knew his grandmother; he knew how to handle it.

  ‘Well, we met at Craig’s wedding and I realised I want to be with her.’ His blue eyes didn’t falter.

  Mimi sat down on her armchair. She was trying to process this information. Luca had always been flighty; the fact that he was saying all of this didn’t surprise her in the least.

  The problem was the wedding. He had to realise what he was doing: the damage it would cause. This girl sitting opposite her was a phase, a way to get out of his upcoming nuptials. It was a classic cold-feet case. How did he expect her to believe him? He was behaving like a child.

  However, she did not feel that Charlotte was the right path for him. Perhaps this little fling was the answer to everything. Let him believe that he was in love. Let him end his unsuitable engagement. This girl could be his way out. He would surely tire of her in the end; he always did. That didn’t matter though, did it?

  ‘Leedia,’ she said, turning to her. ‘You are vairy welcome ’ere, but you must understand that zees ees vairy difficult.’

  Lydia nodded in agreement. ‘I do, Madame, I do.’ She looked at the old lady earnestly. ‘It was hard for me to come here, but I love Luca and we want to be together.’

  Luca leaned over and kissed her cheek. He gazed at her lovingly.

  Mimi looked at Lydia in pity. Surely she could see that he was using her? Unbeknownst to himself. Oh, it was all wonderful now, but what about the future?

  ‘You need to stay ’ere?’ enquired the old lady.

  Luca nodded. ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘Pas de problème,’ she replied.

  She had to get Luca on his own. Once word got out that he was back, all hell would break loose. Christian and Tara needed to be told, as did the du Mauriers.

  ‘You show Leedia the bedroom and I make some coffee.’ She smiled at them both.

  Luca pulled Lydia to her feet. ‘Come on, I’ll show you my room. It looks right out on the park.’

  Lydia trudged after him, feeling out of her depth and uneasy. She could tell that the old lady didn’t believe a word of what he was saying. She could feel the scepticism from miles away. She was mannerly, there was no denying that, but she was also cold. She probably saw her as a bit on the side: a homewrecker.

  I must make her like me, she vowed.

  Mimi dialled Tara’s number with a beating heart. She hated betraying Luca, but she knew that the sooner all of this was sorted, the better it would be for everyone. She and Tara had had their differences; everyone knew that she had not been the desired choice of wife for Christian. Yet there was a respect between the women. They bonded over a common love: Luca.

  ‘’allo?’ She clutched the phone tightly.

  ‘Hey, Mimi. How are you?’ Tara sounded breathless, like she was out and about.

  ‘Can you talk wiz me?’

  ‘Sure, sure. I’m just arriving at the gallery. Things are crazy without Luca. I never realised how important he is –’

  ‘Tara.’ Mimi cut her off. ‘We need to speak about ‘im. Zere ees a problème.’

  ‘You have my attention. Have you heard from him?’

  Mimi took a deep breath. ‘Oui, I ’ave. Luca ees ’ere.’

  ‘He’s with you? Oh, I’m so glad! Charlotte has been calling me over and over –’

  ‘He ’as a girl with ’im. A young Irish girl.’

  Silence ensued. Mimi imagined Tara’s face.

  ‘He has what?’

  ‘A girl. He breeng a girl ’ere. Called Leedia.’

  There was a sharp intake of breath. ‘Lydia?’ she echoed.

  ‘Yes. He want to be with zees girl. He ees in love.’

  ‘What?’

  Mimi held the phone away from her ear as Tara started to rant.

  ‘What the fuck is he thinking? Where did he meet that girl again? What is going on?’

  ‘Tara,’ said the old lady gently, ‘you need to tell Christian. You need to come over ’ere. Tout de suite.’

  She hung up the phone and walked to the window. She stared at the trees of Central Park as they swayed in the breeze.

  This girl was just a distraction. She was his golden ticket out of a marriage he wasn’t ready for. Oh, he believed he was in love. Of course he did.

  The old lady smiled sadly. Luca was always attracted to novelty; he was drawn to trouble. This kind of drama was just what he relished. If only he could see that himself.

  She walked into her kitchen to find her grandson flipping pancakes in the air and Lydia laughing. She paused and looked at them both. They looked so happy. The girl was quite pretty; she could certainly see the allure.

  ‘Meems, do you want some pancakes?’

  She declined with a slight shake of her head. ‘Your muzzer ees coming over.’

  Luca dropped the pan with a clatter. ‘Say again?’

  ‘Tara and Christian are en route.’ She faced him calmly. ‘They ’ad a right to know.’

  ‘Jeez, Mimi. I need more time.’ He started pacing the room.

  Lydia looked ashen. She leaned on the counter for support.

  ‘Bon courage,’ said the old lady turning around and vacating the room. ‘I must go to a luncheon for zee Red Cross. If you are truly in love, all will be well.’

  Lydia ran into their bedroom, her palms sweaty. Her heart was palpitating at a mile a minute. Luca’s parents were on their way. The pressure was enormous and the weight of her actions rested heavily on her shoulders.

  ‘Lyd!’ Luca burst into the room. ‘Are you okay?’

  She faced him in panic. ‘I can’t meet them, Luca. I just can’t.’ Her voice
became squeaky. ‘They will think I am the worst in the world. I can’t do it.’

  She grabbed her bag and started to stuff clothes into it haphazardly. Luca grabbed her arm.

  ‘Hey, stop! Lydia, cut it out.’

  She pushed him away violently.

  ‘No!’ she shouted. ‘This is too much for me. I can’t face your parents. Mimi hates me and so will they.’

  He held her arms like a vice. ‘Lydia! Mimi doesn’t hate you.’

  ‘She does! I’ve seen the pitying looks she gives me. She thinks I’m a mug – she thinks I’m a fool for running away with you.’

  Luca tightened his grip. ‘I said you’ve got to cut it out! You have to focus. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you and I don’t care who knows it or believes it.’

  She shook her head. ‘You don’t know what you want.’

  ‘Lydia,’ he began dangerously. ‘Don’t push it.’

  ‘I need to leave. I have a bad feeling about this, Luca. Something doesn’t feel right.’

  He pulled her down on the bed, pressing his weight on top of her so she was trapped.