The Missing Wife

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The Missing Wife Page 38

by Sheila O'Flanagan


  ‘If I’m stuck with extra charges because of this, I’ll sue you,’ Vince said. René laughed.

  He almost allowed them to buy him a full-price ticket to another destination, but he’d checked both himself and Imogen in for the Ryanair flight to Dublin while he’d been waiting in her apartment. They walked with him as far as the departure gate.

  ‘I don’t want to see you back here. Ever,’ said Oliver.

  ‘I’ve no intention of returning to this hellhole,’ said Vince. ‘And you know what …’ he looked from one man to the other, ‘whichever of you is banging her, you’re welcome to her. She’s not that good anyway.’

  For a moment he thought Oliver was going to punch him again, and he took an involuntary step backwards. But René put his hand on the other man’s shoulder and Oliver relaxed.

  ‘Know that Imogen has friends here,’ said René. ‘And that she will always be a treasured part of our lives. Whatever she might have to do to end her relationship with you, we will support and help her.’

  ‘She’s not worth it, you know,’ said Vince. ‘You’ll find that out for yourselves. She was hopeless when I met her and she’ll be hopeless again. She never deserved me. I’ll be happy never to see her again.’

  Then he walked through the departure gate and out of sight.

  ‘What a pig,’ said René as he and Oliver left the airport after watching Vince’s flight take off. ‘I can’t believe she got involved with him.’

  ‘She said last night that he was charming,’ Oliver said. ‘And kind to her at the start.’

  ‘Women can be such fools over men.’ René got into the car beside Oliver. ‘But she will be happy here with us, don’t you think?’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘And I hope you treat her better than he did.’ René glanced at the man beside him.

  ‘Don’t talk nonsense,’ said Oliver. ‘Besides, Imogen isn’t ready for anything like that.’

  ‘I think Imogen is ready for anything she wants,’ said René as he fastened his seat belt. ‘And I would never bet against her.’

  It was much later before Imogen herself woke up. She gasped in horror as she squinted at her watch and hurried into the bathroom for a quick shower before getting dressed. Then she brushed her hair, dabbed some moisturiser on to her face and hurried downstairs.

  Lucie was sitting on the terrace, reading the newspaper.

  ‘How are you, ma p’tite?’ she asked. ‘You look a lot better.’

  ‘I feel fine,’ said Imogen. ‘Thank you for letting me stay.’

  ‘You’re more than welcome,’ Lucie said. ‘And you’ll stay until Oliver returns from the airport, no?’

  ‘So they’ve run him out of town?’ The corners of Imogen’s mouth twitched.

  ‘Something like that,’ agreed Lucie. ‘Oh, Genie, I’m so sorry that this happened to you.’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ said Imogen. ‘I was the one who made crappy choices. Truth is, I wanted to be in love with Vince more than I actually loved him. I told myself that it was good to have someone who cared so much that he wanted to make sure every aspect of my life was looked after.’

  ‘Didn’t you feel that anyone else cared?’ asked Lucie.

  ‘I felt …’ Imogen paused as she gathered her thoughts. ‘I felt as though I was always second choice. That whatever I wanted came after whatever anyone else wanted. Vince made me feel I came first. At least at the start. Obviously I’m a terrible judge of character.’

  ‘We all make mistakes,’ said Lucie. ‘Don’t beat yourself up about making one with a man. That’s almost inevitable. I did it myself, after all. But why did you come back here to Hendaye? Why not anywhere else in the world? Oliver told me that your aunts are in America. Why didn’t you go to them?’

  ‘They have troubles enough of their own,’ said Imogen. ‘Berthe certainly didn’t need me landing on her. Besides, I always felt that here was where I was happiest. Sure, Mum and I were living in your house, but we had total freedom. Nobody bothered us. I wanted to recapture that feeling.’

  Lucie nodded. ‘And the cleaning job?’

  Imogen explained about renting the apartment from René and asking him for a trial as a cleaner.

  ‘And it worked out perfectly,’ she said. ‘Obviously I was a little taken aback to have to clean the Villa Martine, but I thought it was serendipity really.’

  ‘It is,’ said Lucie. ‘It’s truly lovely to see you again. I often wondered about you, you know. You and your maman.’

  ‘All she wanted was security for me,’ Imogen said. ‘She said that she loved Kevin and I believed her, but the truth was that she thought marrying him was a safe bet. And in a way it was, because after she died, he did his best. It wasn’t his fault that his best wasn’t what I thought I wanted. Which reminds me,’ she added. ‘I really must make some phone calls.’

  ‘Use the telephone in the library if you want some privacy,’ said Lucie.

  ‘It’s OK. I have my mobile. But I’ll use the library to make the calls,’ said Imogen.

  She walked into the house and let herself into the room that had been Denis Delissandes’ domain and which Oliver now used. There was an indefinable masculine scent in here, and she could recall Denis sitting behind the rosewood desk, reading glasses perched on his head or sliding off the tip of his nose.

  She sat in the leather armchair and dialled Cheyenne’s number. Her stepsister answered on the first ring.

  ‘Oh, Imogen! It’s so good to actually hear your voice. I’ve been worried about you.’

  As Imogen told her what had been going on, culminating in the events of the previous night, Cheyenne exclaimed over and over that she should have called sooner, or come to England, or asked for some help.

  ‘I was too embarrassed,’ said Imogen. ‘I know that sounds ridiculous, but I thought you’d all laugh at me.’

  ‘Why on earth would we do that?’ demanded Cheyenne.

  ‘Because I was a snotty little cow when I was younger,’ said Imogen. ‘And I thought you might believe I deserved everything I got.’

  ‘That’s absurd,’ said Cheyenne. ‘You’re my sister. Why would I think that?’

  ‘I sometimes felt like the cuckoo in the nest,’ admitted Imogen. ‘Mum and I barged into your lives and then Mum died and I was left and I was in the way. And instead of being grateful that you and your dad were there for me, I resented it.’

  ‘You could be a bit of a pain,’ agreed Cheyenne. ‘But then so could I. We were teenagers after all. We had fun together when we ganged up on Dad, though. We made his life a misery over Paula, remember.’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘You’ve blown things up out of all proportion,’ said Cheyenne. ‘You need to visit. Get it all into perspective again.’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘So would I,’ said Cheyenne.

  ‘Soon,’ Imogen promised. ‘When I get myself together. I’m sorry I didn’t confide in you. It might have been a better option.’

  ‘Oh well,’ said Cheyenne cheerfully. ‘I’m glad it’s turned out OK. And I’m doubly glad you’ve left him. He was a … I won’t say it, Imogen. In case you ever get back with him and hate me for ever for making snide remarks about him.’

  ‘That’s never going to happen,’ Imogen assured her. ‘I’ve broken away from him, and it’s for good.’

  ‘I’m truly delighted,’ said Cheyenne. ‘And I look forward to seeing you soon.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Imogen. ‘Tell Kevin I was asking after him. Paula too.’

  ‘OK,’ said Cheyenne. ‘Take care, Imogen.’

  Her next call was to Shona, who sighed with relief at the sound of her voice.

  ‘I didn’t know what to do!’ she wailed. ‘Part of me hated you for walking away without a word to anyone. Part of me felt so sorry for Vince. And yet when he went to France to find you, I was scared of what might happen if he did.’

  ‘He got punched in the face,’ said Imogen.

  �
�You actually punched him?’ Shona’s voice was full of disbelief.

  ‘Of course I didn’t.’

  ‘Who then?’

  ‘A friend. Anyway, as my mum used to say, all’s well, et cetera, et cetera.’

  ‘What are you going to do now?’ asked Shona, who wanted to know more about the punching but could tell that Imogen wasn’t going to be forthcoming, at least for now.

  ‘Take some time to think about things,’ Imogen said. ‘I’ll be in touch, though.’

  ‘I wonder will Vince call me.’ Shona sounded anxious.

  ‘Most likely he’ll cut you out of his life,’ said Imogen. ‘That’s what he does to people who annoy him.’

  ‘You should have told me,’ said Shona. ‘I’d’ve helped, you know I would.’

  ‘I know that now,’ she said. ‘Back then … back then, he had me believing that the only person I could really talk to was him. I know it might sound bizarre. I’m not a stupid browbeaten woman. I can stand up for myself. But not against Vince. There’s something about him …’

  ‘Yes, there is,’ agreed Shona. ‘I felt it too whenever he was with me. And when he told me about you and the baby—’

  ‘There was no baby,’ said Imogen. ‘There was never going to be a baby with him. He didn’t want one either, but he used the idea to manipulate people’s thoughts.’

  ‘He certainly had me in a total mess,’ agreed Shona. ‘But the important thing is that you’re OK. Please keep in touch with me, Imogen. Let me know what’s happening.’

  ‘I will,’ said Imogen. ‘I promise.’

  It was too early to make a call to Berthe, so she put her phone in the pocket of her shorts and went outside again.

  She was surprised to see Giles Delissandes on the terrace with his mother.

  ‘Imogen.’ He smiled at her. ‘Maman has been telling me. You’ve been through an ordeal.’

  ‘It all sounds worse than it was,’ said Imogen. ‘And everyone’s been so wonderful to me that I can’t really claim to have had much of an ordeal at all.’

  ‘It was an ordeal,’ said Lucie firmly. ‘Would you like coffee, Imogen?’

  ‘That would be lovely,’ she said.

  Lucie made coffee for the three of them, and they were drinking it and nibbling at croissants when Oliver returned.

  ‘He’s gone,’ he said. ‘We waited until the flight took off before we left.’

  ‘You and René both?’ asked Imogen.

  ‘For sure,’ said Oliver. ‘We didn’t want him coming back and hassling you.’

  She released her breath slowly.

  ‘I still can’t quite believe it happened. He came, he found me, he’s gone.’

  ‘With a sore nose and a black eye and his tail between his legs.’

  ‘Black eye? Oh, Oliver.’ Lucie’s attempt to look stern failed as much as Oliver’s effort to appear repentant.

  ‘It gave me great satisfaction to give it to him,’ he said.

  ‘You hit him?’ Giles looked surprised. ‘I didn’t think you were that kind of man, Oliver. Fighting over a woman, no less. Bravo.’

  ‘They weren’t fighting over me,’ said Imogen hastily.

  The brothers laughed and Lucie sighed.

  ‘I tried to bring them up properly,’ she said. ‘But I failed miserably.’

  ‘You did a great job, Madame,’ said Imogen. ‘Now, I’d better go. Given that I know I’m definitely not going to be accosted in my apartment, I’ll leave you in peace. Thank you so much for your hospitality.’

  ‘You’re very welcome,’ said Lucie. ‘And I do hope you’ll visit us again. Not as a cleaner,’ she added. ‘We cannot have you cleaning for us, Imogen. It won’t do. You’re a friend. Part of the family.’

  ‘I’m really—’

  ‘I’ve spoken to René about it already,’ said Oliver. ‘He’s reassigning you.’

  ‘One of the things that drove me crazy with Vince was the fact that he liked to arrange things on my behalf,’ said Imogen. ‘I can look after myself. Really I can.’

  ‘It’s not for your comfort, it’s for ours,’ said Oliver. ‘I can’t bear to think of you cleaning up after me. That’s all. Now come on, Imogen. I’ll drive you home.’

  She was going to say that she could walk, but it was already hot and so she simply nodded and thanked him before embracing Lucie and Giles and getting into the Range Rover.

  They didn’t speak on the short drive to her apartment, but as they drew near, Oliver pointed out the spot where he’d met Céline and René the previous night.

  ‘I do appreciate how you all rushed in to save me,’ said Imogen when they pulled up outside the building.

  ‘Any time,’ Oliver said. ‘It was great for my ego to rescue a damsel in distress.’

  ‘I was going to say that I wasn’t in distress and I had everything sorted,’ Imogen told him. ‘But the truth is, I don’t know what would have happened. I’d made up my mind, you see, that I wasn’t going with him. I’d never actually defied him before.’

  ‘Was it really awful, living with him?’ asked Oliver as they both got out of the car.

  ‘In retrospect,’ said Imogen. ‘Well – I ran away. That tells its own story. But the thing is, it was slow. It started off with his housekeeping rules, which I thought were a bit daft but also sort of cute. Then it was my clothes. And my hair. Things I said. Him always answering the phone and opening the post. I didn’t quite realise how much they were all adding up at first. And when I did, it was too late. I couldn’t talk to him. The only thing I was able to do was run.’

  Oliver hugged her, and she let him. Then they walked up the path to the apartment together.

  ‘I didn’t realise there was blood on your floor,’ said Oliver when she let them in.

  ‘It’ll come off.’ Imogen left her bag inside the door and fetched some kitchen towel, which she used to clean the floor. Then she flushed it down the toilet.

  ‘A bit daft, I know,’ she said. ‘But I don’t want anything of him in my home.’

  ‘Naturally,’ said Oliver.

  They stood silently for a moment.

  ‘Would you like to meet me a little later?’ asked Oliver. ‘A drink, something to eat perhaps …’

  She said nothing.

  ‘I’m not trying to muscle in,’ he added. ‘Realising there’s a vacancy for a man in your life and all that. Or maybe I am. I don’t know. I just … I enjoyed being with you yesterday. I’d like to see you again. I realise this might not be the right time and that it’s possibly a little strange, having known you so long ago. Like meeting a childhood sweetheart again.’

  She’d told Céline she hadn’t had a childhood sweetheart. That was true. Oliver hadn’t been one. They hadn’t cared about each other except as people to tease and irritate and play pirate games with. He’d actually been quite annoying as a boy.

  Not now.

  ‘It’s nice of you to ask,’ she said. ‘But I think I need some time on my own. To reflect. To think about the future.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Another time, perhaps?’ she suggested.

  ‘Another time.’ He kissed her once on each cheek. And then, so gently that it hardly seemed to have happened at all, a fleeting brush of his lips over hers before he let himself out of the apartment.

  Chapter 37

  The dinner two weeks later was Céline’s idea. Everyone who had been at Imogen’s apartment on the night of her showdown with Vince was invited: Becky and Nellie (who’d delayed their return to Australia), René, Max and Oliver. When they all accepted, Céline suggested that it might be nice if all of the Delissandes came too.

  ‘And your sister and brother-in-law if they’re still here,’ she said. ‘Let’s make it a fun night.’

  Cheyenne and Richard had turned up the day after Imogen had called to tell her what had happened.

  ‘Someone punched Vince on the nose?’ said Cheyenne, as they sipped wine in the garden outside Imogen’s apartment. ‘I’d like to mee
t him!’

  ‘You will if you stay for the dinner,’ said Imogen. ‘I’m not sure why Céline wants to do it, to be honest.’

  ‘It’s a wonderful idea,’ Cheyenne told her. ‘And we’d be delighted to stay. We haven’t been away at all this year and the Hotel Atlantique is great. I’m sure Dad and Paula would love to visit some time.’

  ‘I’ll call him soon,’ Imogen told her.

  ‘He’d like that,’ said Cheyenne.

  ‘I wish I could be with you too,’ said Berthe the following day, when Imogen phoned. ‘But obviously I can’t leave Agnes. I hope you have a lovely night, Imogen.’

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be fun,’ said Imogen. ‘And I’ll try to visit you both before the end of the year.’

  ‘That would be wonderful,’ said Berthe. ‘I miss you.’

  ‘I miss you too. I promise I’ll get to you when I can.’

  It would be fun to visit her aunts in the States, she thought as she ended the call. They’d been invited before, but Vince had never wanted to go. Now she was free to do as she pleased. It was exhilarating.

  She arrived at the restaurant exactly on time, and Bernard himself greeted her, then immediately began to apologise for giving Vince the information that had led to him tracking her down. Imogen waved away his apologies and told him that he would have found her anyway. Besides, she said, it had been a good thing that he had showed up.

  ‘It was time for me to meet him,’ she assured Bernard. ‘I couldn’t keep hiding for ever.’

  Bernard gave her a gruff kiss and told her that she was a gem of a girl and that some man would be lucky to have her. At which Imogen said that no man was ever going to have her in the way that Vince had wanted – ownership of her and everything to do with her. The next time I meet a man, she said, it will be a partnership. Fifty-fifty.

  ‘You might be waiting a long time in that case.’ Bernard winked at her.

  ‘As long as it takes,’ Imogen said.

 

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