by Lucy Jones
I take Tom by the arm.
"Julia, ask your friend if he'd like something to drink."
"Do you want to drink something? Wait... Dad, do you still have some champagne left?"
"But of course! Jacques, go get us a bottle, why don't you," my mother hastens to command, all excited at Tom's visit.
"Julia has told us so much about you, Tom. You'll stay and have dinner with us, won't you? And you can also stay the night, there's no need for you to book into a hotel. You're welcome to stay here."
My mother's speaking so fast that Tom doesn't quite catch everything. He looks at me inquiringly.
"My mother says that they heard a lot about you and they are delighted to see you. They want you stay for dinner, for the night and for all the time that you want. Welcome to the Belmont family!"
"Thank you! Thank you, it's much kind from you. It'd be great to stay here tonight."
"Excellent!"
"When do you have to leave?"
"Tomorrow afternoon, at the latest. I wanted to see you, and I also had something to tell you. Something odd and rather important."
"What are you two talking about?"
"Um... Tom has to leave tomorrow... he's very happy to see us and to meet you...."
"About what," Tom asks me in English again.
"D. W. I discovered some things I need to share with you...."
14. The Fire laid bare
I'm so eager to be alone with Tom that I feel like dinner is dragging on. My mother can't stop singing my praises to Tom, as if she were determined to marry me off on the spot (no matter how many times I tell her, she can't get it into her head that he's just a friend), and pesters him with questions. But since she doesn't speak a word of English and Tom can't keep track of her infernal streaming monologue, I end up interpreting for them... in my own way. I don't relate everything my mother says and I adjust Tom's answers. It's a little tiring, but, I must say, mostly quite fun. It's a bit like watching a movie out of sync.
My impatience doesn't prevent me from enjoying this relaxed and happy moment. My parents are being friendly and are completely won over by Tom, who is charming as always. I'm so happy to see him again.
After dinner, which lasted for over two hours, my parents finally decide to go to bed.
"All right, kids, we'll leave you two be. I've made the spare bedroom and put fresh towels on the edge of the bath. Enjoy the rest of your evening. Good night!"
I repeat to Tom what my mother just said.
"Thank you very much, madame. Good night."
"Thanks, mum. Good night!" I say with a kiss to my parents.
Tom and I make ourselves comfortable in the living room and wait for my parents to close their bedroom door before we begin talking.
Tom asks me if I remember Daniel Wietermann having given orders not to say anything about him should a person by the name of Camille Wietermann show up.
Of course I remember! I can still see Daniel scowling and hear him issuing his instructions in an icy and haughty tone.
Well, on the day I left, this Camille Wietermann character came to the reception and asked Tom if he knew Daniel. At first, Tom replied that on no account could he discuss the hotel's guests, and that anyway he didn't know any Daniel Wietermann. But Camille insisted. He said that he knew Daniel always stayed at that hotel when he was in New York and that he had stayed there over the past few days.
If he's so sure of his facts, why question the hotel staff?
Camille apologised for his clumsy approach. The truth was that he needed help.
Needed help? How so?
Yes, Camille explained that Daniel was his son and that he knew he had just left the hotel because he had been watching him from a distance. He hadn't dared go towards him, which he now regretted bitterly. He absolutely had to speak with his son and was scared he had missed his chance. Moved by the old man's evident distress, Tom said that he understood, but was sorry there was nothing he could do. But Camille replied that actually, there was. He could pass a message along to Daniel through his girlfriend, the girl he worked with, whom he had seen leave several times with his son.
Not wanting to bring me any trouble, or at least put me in an embarrassing situation, Tom asked Camille why he didn't approach his son directly if he wanted to speak with him so badly. But Daniel wouldn't listen to Camille, he had refused to see him for years. He had to get hold of him by roundabout means.
Maybe there was a good reason for that?
No, according to Camille, Daniel was wrong about his father. Until now, he had never really done anything to change the situation, but today, things were different, he was ill and he didn't want to leave this world without having seen and spoken to his son again.
Was he really ill?
Tom would have liked to believe so. In any case, he sensed that the man was sincere and he felt for him. To convince Tom, Camille suggested that they have a drink together after his shift had ended, so that he could tell him his story. Tom could thus judge for himself in all good conscience whether he would agree to help him or not. Tom met with Camille, and this is what the old man told him:
"I married a woman I loved.
Our early years together were wonderful. I painted, she posed. We travelled a lot, we had fun, we were free and madly in love. Our life had none of the hardness experienced by those star-crossed, penniless artists. Diane was from the Tercari family, and I came from a line of successful artists. Our passion gave rise to two children, seven years apart: Agathe and Daniel. I loved those kids so much. I would spend a lot of time with them.
But things began to change when Diane had to take over the family jewellery firm. We settled in Paris and she dedicated herself entirely to her business. Solitude and idleness soon began to weigh on me, and I became a fickle and pleasure-seeking husband. Despite our differences, Diane and I still loved one another, but it wasn't enough. I would sometimes disappear for days at a time to live it up all over the world, but I always came back.
As the years went by, Diane could no longer put up with my antics. Not so much for the pain they caused her in private as for the harm they could have caused her in public. Nothing worried her more than the image of her family and her business. And she went to great lengths to keep a lid on my misdemeanours, to keep me out of the tabloids.
One day, I don't remember how or from whom, I learned that Diane had a lover. Even if I had cheated on her many times, I had never kept a mistress, I never slept with the same woman twice. I shirked the life we had, but I loved Diane. However, I was hardly in a position to point the finger at her.... So, I kept quiet.
But it was eating away at me, slowly but surely tearing me apart. I became less and less capable of showing affection to the children, I went out more and more often for longer periods of time and when I came back, I couldn't stand the sight of them. I was sure they weren't mine....
My relationship with Diane became unbearable. And then, things finally came to a head. I confessed that I knew she had a lover and that I suspected him of being the children's father. She didn't deny it. I left, never to return.
However, doubt continued to plague me. I had so loved those kids.... For all those years, I kept up with their progress as best as I could, watching them from behind the scenes.
A few months ago, I learned that I didn't have long left to live. I couldn't leave without getting clarity. With the help of friends who had stayed in touch with Diane, I found out that Agathe and Daniel were indeed my children. I don't have the time to hold a grudge against Diane any more, I'll probably never know why she did that. Maybe because I gave her the perfect excuse to chase me out of their lives.
You understand, don't you, why I need to speak with my son? Would you be kind enough to help me and speak to your girlfriend?"
Camille's story leaves me speechless.
"Are you still in touch with Daniel?"
"Now and then… "
Now it's my turn to tell Tom about all that's happened si
nce I left New York.
He doesn't know what advice to give me. On the one hand, Camille moved him and he'd like to right a wrong, to help father and son find each other again; but on the other hand, he has doubts based on what I told him about the mother. After all, it's a family matter, everyone has their own issues and it's not up to us to interfere. Who knows if Camille wasn't lying? Tom can't be sure. Let them sort it out! Besides, he thinks I'd be better off staying away from this strange family; he's afraid I'm going to bring needless trouble and misery upon myself; he's worried about me.
But I can't force myself to be immune and aloof, everything I've just heard has deeply affected me. It's like the pieces of a puzzle slowly coming together. I can't abandon it halfway, I want to uncover the full picture. Is it out of love, or out of a taste for adventure? A bit of both. Where Tom sees trouble and danger, I see Daniel in a new and positive light. Tom can see that I won't sit and do nothing. So he advises me to be cautious, to send Daniel a message telling him his father wants to speak with him, nothing more.
No, I have to tell him in person....
I go back to my room after having said good night to Tom. In the midst of the alarm and excitement his arrival had caused, I had forgotten to take my phone with when I went down to greet him. A missed call from Sarah with no voicemail, and a long SMS...
[Saturday 28 July 8:30 pm
Julia, you came back for me. I had hoped you would and you did. Your illness, my mother, your running away… everything went wrong, I didn't know what to do and it's driving me crazy, as you can imagine. I want you with me, for myself. And I am sure you feel the same way. Let's not waste any time making excuses or sulking. What's done is done. I will be in Paris tomorrow, come meet me there.]
[Saturday 28 July 11:56 pm
All right.]
I'll just have to find an excuse to go to Paris tomorrow....
"What a drama! Tom's right, stay on your guard and don't let yourself get sucked into this family, they sound a bit unhealthy. I know you, you're a big softy! But I get you at the same time; if I were you, I'd also go meet Daniel to clear all this up and... because you're hooked! When are you leaving for Paris?"
"Today. Daniel sent me a message this morning: 'Meet at Harry’s Bar, 8 pm'."
"What did you tell your parents?"
'Well, that's the thing... I haven't said anything yet. I have to come up with something."
"Is Tom heading south?"
"Yes, but he's going back via Paris to catch a plane."
"Well, all you have to do is tell them we've talked about our future accommodation, and that we think it wise to start looking for a flat right away if we want to move in by the beginning of October, and that you'll hitch a ride with Tom to Paris, since he's headed that way."
"Yes, that's a pretty good idea."
"Right, and by the way, you really should get down to it!" she laughs. "All right, off you go, then. Call me when you get there. Ciao!"
"I'll call you, promise. Thanks Sarah. Bye!"
"Are you already leaving us? You don't want me to go with you?"
"Thanks, mum, that's sweet, but you know how boring it is to go looking for a flat, and I won't have time to do much shopping... I'm only leaving for a few days, anyhow."
"All right. But where will you stay?"
"Sarah left the key to her place with the concierge, so I'll borrow her studio."
Near the end of the afternoon, Tom and I leave Tours for Paris. We part ways at Montparnasse Station. He heads for Orly Airport and I dive into the metro. I studied the map during the train ride: line 12 towards Porte de la Chapelle until Madeleine, then line 8 towards Créteil, stop at the Opera.
It's boiling hot in the metro, I'm dripping with sweat, I'm going to melt before reaching the bar.... Outside, at last. I look all around me. The cars are turning around the central reservation by the metro exit. I know I have to go down the avenue in front of me with the Opera behind me. All right. There it is. Now, how do I get there? There we go, I see one, two, three... four pedestrian crossings. There we are. I go down Opera Avenue. First on the right. Daunou Street. No. 5. Harry's Bar.
I'm a little early. Just as well. I go to freshen up. I've put my hair up in a pony-tail and I'm wearing jeans, a flowing, smart sleeveless top and high-heeled sandals. I'm wearing very little make-up.
Daniel is on time. It's 8 pm when he sits down next to me and, without so much as a greeting, kisses me ardently.
"I'm thrilled to see you, Miss Belmont."
He does seem pleased. His eyes are sparkling, his face is smiling.
"Me too, Mr Wietermann."
"How do you like the place? I wanted something that reminded us of where we first met, so we could start afresh and forget all those unfortunate incidents."
"Even so...."
Daniel doesn't let me finish as his lips once again bear down on mine. Were it not for Camille's story, I wouldn't be here. But Daniel doesn't know that, and he doesn't seem surprised at my lack of resistance. Obviously, that really gets under my skin, but my reaction is biased by what I've learned in the meantime.
"Daniel, we need to talk…."
"Tomorrow, we'll talk tomorrow, Julia. I know I owe you an explanation, but not right now."
His words, his eyes, his gestures all express the need to see me, to touch me, as if he wanted to make sure I was really there, to put his mind at ease. And all of a sudden, I realise he had been afraid of losing me, afraid I wouldn't come. I become aware of his deep-seated longing to melt back into me and regain his peace of mind, of his fear that words will come between us, that they'll put off and jeopardise our reunion. I know, because I'm feeling the same way. And I don't want to spoil the moment.
All right, we'll talk tomorrow.
"I have a dinner appointment with some business acquaintances. Won't you join me?" He leans in towards me and whispers in my ear. "Afterwards, I'll take you back to my place. And I promise you a night of pure bliss... Julia, I'm dying to explore your body, to feel you within me, to devour you...."
Daniel steps back slowly, brushing against my cheek in passing. He observes the effect his words have on me, then grabs my hand and pulls me towards the back of the bar where Ray is waiting, ready to drive us into a night of ecstasy....
"Where are we going? Should I maybe change?"
"You're perfect just as you are. But aren't you a bit hot in those jeans?"
"Yes. I'm going to put on a skirt, I'll be more comfortable that way."
"And you're going to do that here, in the car, right under my nose, when we're almost there? Are you provoking me, Miss Belmont?" Daniel asks me, his eyes twinkling, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"I'm afraid so...," I reply, rummaging in my bag for a skirt.
"You're quite right... You've earned the right to toy with me a bit, to make me wait."
Well, well... Daniel suspects me of hiding thoughts that haven't even crossed my mind... As if he wanted indirectly to suggest that he could perhaps be forgiven through a little game which I – just once won't hurt – would control. Interesting... But I don't really feel like playing games. Tomorrow, I'll have to find the courage to talk to him, I'll have to weigh my words carefully and until then, I want to draw my strength from him, I want him to breathe his life into me. I need to feel close to him, to feel connected. And I know that will come with the mingling of our bodies.
"I don't want to play," I say in a small voice.
His affected, impish manner vanishes. Our gazes lock and overlap. Nothing moves, save for our chests rising with every pounding heartbeat.
"Me neither...."
We pounce on each other and pour all of the wild intensity filling our eyes, our veins and our breath into our kiss, like two possessed lovers finally able to lay their souls bare.
Our fervour is interrupted by our arrival at the restaurant, without which we would probably still be at it. A black-suited head waiter welcomes us.
"Good evening, Mr Wietermann. M
iss."
"Good evening, Georges."
"Your guests have arrived. This way, please."
Georges takes us to a round table, with four men seated around it.
"Julia, allow me to introduce you to Benjamin, Simon, Paul and Richard. They worked with me on the 'Fire' collection. Gentlemen, this is Julia."
We exchange greetings as Daniel and I take our seats facing each other. After the customary courtesies, the conversation quickly drifts into business and I'm hard pressed to keep up. Daniel seems in a hurry and regularly tries to speed proceedings along, but the questions and comments keep on coming. I start thinking of an excuse to slip away, when I feel something brush up against my leg. I freeze and look up at Daniel. Clearly, that's what he wanted: to get my attention. He darts a smile at me before turning his head to answer Richard, who's asking for his opinion on the recent New Yorker article on the collection. But he doesn't withdraw his foot as it sneaks up my calf, snuggles up behind my knee, slides in between my thighs and settles against my knickers.
"Daniel, are you even listening to me?" Simon complains.
"I'm all ears!"
"I dunno, you look distracted...."
"Yes, well, it would be nice if you could get to the point," Daniel retorts, while his foot massages my mound.
I can't take it any more, I'm going delirious. I picture myself crawling on all fours on the table towards Daniel to kiss him.... Is it just his touch on my skin that arouses me so? Or the childish thrill of doing it on the sly? Or the fear of being caught? Or all of them at once? I won't be able to hold it in much longer.
"Excuse me, gentlemen, I need to get some air," I spring up breathlessly.
Daniel immediately dashes after me, calling out behind him:
"I'll be right back!"
Once outside, Daniel cups my face in his hands.
"Go wait for me at my place. Ray will take you. Take a deep, long bath and prepare yourself. I'll get rid of these fools as soon as I can. Send me a message when you're ready. All right?"
