Sleeping Love

by Sara Curran-Ross

  Raoul grinned.

  ‘Yes, Françoise. So that’s why I thought I would bring her back here.’

  Françoise raised his eyebrows at Raoul and then took another look at Sabrina.

  ‘Madame Valoire?’

  Sabrina looked nervously at Raoul and then nodded at the man.

  ‘Yes, yes I can see it now.’

  He took her hand.

  ‘Madame Valoire, it is so good to see you again. We all thought you were dead. What happened?’

  Sabrina felt uncomfortable, and Raoul was quick to the rescue.

  ‘Madame Valoire lost her memory Françoise. We don’t know what happened yet. I can’t believe we found her again.’

  The man kissed her on both cheeks in the traditional French style, giving Sabrina the impression that she must have known him well.

  ‘Well, let us see if we can jog your memory. I will prepare my best…’

  ‘Ah Françoise do not tell her what she usually has in here. I am trying to get Sabrina to remember.’

  The man smiled and handed her a menu.

  ‘Of course, Monsieur Valoire.’

  He chuckled.

  ‘I am sure Madame will not have forgotten.’

  He laughed and walked away, and they could hear his hushed whisper as he told the other waiters.

  Sabrina glanced at the menu and its contents, but put it down dismayed that she could not even remember what food she loved to eat. Raoul placed his hand over Sabrina’s that rested on the table.

  ‘Relax, Sabrina. It is coming back slowly, we just have to be patient. One step at a time.’

  She felt as though she was letting him down.

  ‘What would I have normally?’

  He made a quick scan of the menu.

  ‘It’s a little different from what it used to be seven years ago. Ah there it is. We would have breakfast here before, as you so astutely put it, we ran amuck in the shops.’

  Amuck was such an English word, one of her words. It was an inelegant word that his soft accent seemed to make sound almost poetic.

  ‘But I don’t really like shopping that much.’

  Raoul raised one dark eyebrow making him look devilishly sexy. She tried to avoid making contact with his eyes, but he was there holding her own captive. They were mesmerising, beautiful and haunting. She haunted them. She could see his memories of their life together reflecting back at her.

  ‘Oh yes you do, Sabrina. It is your favourite past time, and you are relentless in its pursuit.’

  He shook his head with amused disbelief leaving her feeling annoyed that he knew so much that she didn’t. She watched him give the menu another closer look.

  ‘Well you didn’t have tea because you hate tea in France and any other European country. You always complain that it looks and tastes like dishwater.’

  He laughed watching the surprised recognition widening her eyes.

  ‘It’s so bad that you have to have your brother send you tea bags from England….’

  His voice trailed off realising the mistake.

  ‘I have a brother?’

  She asked the question with timidity. He looked uncomfortable, as though he’d said too much too soon.

  ‘Yes, he’s already on his way to France. He wanted to be here on Friday, but he is a doctor, a heart surgeon and couldn’t get away. He will arrive at the Chateau later on. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to spend the day worrying about meeting him.’

  Sabrina felt her eyes sting with tears.

  ‘My parents?’

  ‘They died when you were twelve in a car accident,’ he told her gently. ‘Your brother was nineteen at the time, and he looked after you. I’m so sorry, Sabrina.’

  She swallowed hard and tried to blink her tears away. It was just like being a ghost in your own life. Raoul stroked her fingers with his thumb over the hand she rested on the table. But she snatched it away. He stared down at the bare table where they had been connected and sighed. Sabrina couldn’t speak, she was too choked with emotion and the effort of containing her feelings to this stranger. He didn’t remove his concerned eyes from her once, even when he ordered her usual of a cappuccino and a decadent butter croissant covered in sugar.

  They visited the Louvre first. She slowly began to remember her way around the smooth display floors and was able to follow its labyrinth appearance, with its long halls and wide staircases. It made her feel confused.

  How can I remember my way around this magnificent building, yet I can’t remember my own name and identity?

  After a tour of the French and Italian paintings, they ended up in the Denon Wing to view the Sculptures. So far an amicable distance between them had been maintained and discussion had centred on the painting techniques of her favourite painters, Caravaggio, Vermeer and Da Vinci. But now they were looking at the Sculptures, Raoul appeared to be closing the distance both physically and emotionally. She responded by moving away to look at a particular piece she felt drawn to look at.

  ‘I’ve seen this before haven’t I? Many times before.’

  She was talking to herself as though locked in some distant memory she was trying to keep hold of and examine in detail. Raoul eyed her cautiously, expectant. He nodded, and Sabrina smiled with triumph.

  ‘I like it don’t I? In fact, I will go as far as saying that it is my favourite next to…’ she paused. ‘Yes, the Venus de Milo and The Wings of Victory. It’s one of the reasons you and I come here.’

  She turned to him unable to hide her glee. He took hold of her hand and brought her fingertips to his lips. She blushed conscious of people around them. He stared at her with hooded eyes that made her insides melt and turn to warm liquid. She tried to remove her hand and break the spell, but he held it firmly, rhythmically rubbing his thumb over her knuckles again. So much for distance. He led her around to the front of the sculpture.

  ‘It’s Psyche revived by Cupid’s kiss, made in 1793 by Antonio Canova.’

  She accessed the information easily from her splintered memory. Reeling it off with direct precision as she did the many historical facts that lay dormant in her mind. Raoul moved behind her. She could feel his breath blow tantalisingly against the lobe of her ear as he spoke.

  ‘You find this sculpture intriguing and erotic,’ he whispered seductively.

  He began to walk around her as if viewing his own exquisite sculpture. She was spell bound unable to move a muscle. All she wanted to do was to listen to the hypnotising erotic note of his voice. He lifted her hand and trailed a digit over its back.

  ‘I think you appreciate the smooth lines and curves of the marble bodies and their curved voluptuous forms.’

  Why do I get the feeling you aren’t just talking about the sculptures?

  She concentrated on the Canova. Beautiful Psyche lay on a bed of white marble, a simple sheath covering her modesty. Her slim arms stretched up around Cupid’s neck as he leaned over her, his large wings spread. His hand was curved around one of her breasts as she met his kiss.

  ‘Venus was jealous of Psyche’s great beauty. She sent her son Cupid to make Psyche fall in love with the ugliest man alive. But Cupid fell in love with her and visited every night as an invisible lover,’ Raoul told her, the seduction unmistakable in his caressing tone of voice.

  Sabrina’s eyelashes fluttered involuntarily as she felt his gaze settle on her moist parted pink lips. He continued.

  ‘He warned her not to attempt to discover his true identity and when she did, he left. Psyche searched everywhere for Cupid until Jupiter made her an immortal so she could be with Cupid again.’

  Raoul smiled.

  ‘It’s rather like you and me. I am invisible to you, Sabrina, even though I love you.’

  He studied the soft silky skin of her hand.

  ‘And if I try to see the real you and what happened, will you leave me? Or did you already do that seven years ago?’ she ventured.

  She couldn’t believe she’d said it. He lowe
red her hand and smiled, refusing to make any comment. He annoyed her with his silences, baiting her to come out of her protective shell, remember everything and solve the mystery of their past life together.

  Maybe you think it will make me stick around. You know me better than I thought. I can’t stand an unsolved mystery especially when it involves my life. . .

  Raoul was fully aware that her nature would be too curious to leave any stone unturned, and she would never give up.

  Damn you.

  She pulled back her hand as though his touch was offensive. So, he loved to tease her. He’d told her that he wasn’t having an affair, but she obviously didn’t believe him at the time. In Raoul’s eyes telling her that it was untrue should have been enough, but Sabrina, knowing herself, would have wanted more evidence of his faithfulness and would have done her own investigation. Trusting people wasn’t something she did easily. She only wished she knew the reason for it. Perhaps it was another remnant from her past she needed to uncover.

  There were two ways to deal with this situation, either trust the man or find out the truth herself. She preferred the second option. She hardly knew the man and would not fall in the naïve trap of putting her full trust in a stranger. Raoul was a stranger despite his protestations to the contrary, and she intended to remain in control. Flouncing off to view another sculpture irritation stung her to the core. The corner of Raoul’s all too sexy mouth curved with amusement as she walked away. A fantasy about wiping it away with a well-aimed punch struck her mind with anger.

  The rest of the day was spent on amicable terms. She discovered a love for French shopping that equalled no other. She wasn’t too keen on French food and was not impressed by the Continental way of eating that made her comment that, they were so close to the next table that they might as well be sitting on it. The Eiffel Tower was her favourite attraction, followed closely in line by Jardin des Tuileries, Place De La Concorde and the dazzling streams of traffic lights parading up and down the Champs-Elysees. In fact everything was going well until they caught up with an old friend on the Champs-Elysees as the winter darkness began to fall around them.

  ‘Raoul, fancy seeing you here. Who is this gorgeous creature on your arm?’

  It was an English voice, crisp, clear and instantly recognisable. Sabrina turned round to find Cressida Williams hugging Raoul. It was the woman who fawned over Raoul at the ball from her memory. She clung to his arm. Raoul looked uncomfortable and removed her hand.

  ‘Cressida. How nice to see you,’ Raoul said with irritated sarcasm.

  ‘Sabrina, is that you?’ there was amazement in the voice and something else—fear.

  ‘Yes it is, Cressida. I found her again. Sabrina has lost her memory, but we are doing everything we can to get it back.’

  There was a warning in his words to the woman, and Sabrina couldn’t help wondering if he was signalling for her to be on her guard.

  ‘So the rumours were true. She doesn’t remember anything? What about you? Does she remember you, Raoul?’

  ‘Raoul, please stop talking as if I’m not here. I do remember some things,’ Sabrina said with a smile.

  The woman suddenly looked nervous.

  You should be nervous, Bitch. I bet it was a shock when you heard I’d been raised from the dead and was back in Raoul’s life.

  ‘Cressida Williams, isn’t it? Yes, I remember. You were the architect who designed that luxury holiday village on the south coast for Raoul’s company. Yes, I’m beginning to remember a lot of things.’

  Oh yes I am. You’ve had your eyes on Raoul for years and every other man with money and power you can find. Why can’t you find some power of your own? You are always pawing Raoul, always touching him in front of me, desperate to make me jealous. And men love you for the attention you give them. They all fall into your trap. Suckers. I guess Raoul eventually fell for you as well.

  She could almost hear both of them hold their breath. The two women locked eyes for a moment. Cressida’s beautiful pea green eyes narrowed to a sharp point under the brim of her black winter fur hat, as she caught Sabrina’s warning. Her peachy brown lips tightened, but she slowly relaxed them into a smile that widened as she turned to face Raoul, her back deliberately to Sabrina.

  ‘Raoul, you must come and see me soon. It’s been a while.’

  The woman possessively held his arm again and ran a finger down the front of his coat.

  ‘I miss you. You must come.’

  It sounded like a pathetic plea to Sabrina, and the invitation was obviously not extended to herself. She looked around at the throng of shoppers walking up and down the busy avenue trying not to bump into them. She could just escape now, forget Raoul, forget this humiliation and disappear again. There was obviously still something going on between them. She wondered if Cressida’s husband had found out just like herself. He obviously found it easy to ignore.

  Raoul was firmly pulling Cressida’s hand from his arm, his eyes communicating impatience at her persistence.

  ‘It was nice to see you, Cressida. We must catch up once Sabrina is back to full health again. Now we must go, Sabrina is tired.’

  Sabrina murmured goodbye and found herself being guided towards the edge of the kerb where they were due to meet the car. They didn’t speak until they were inside, and the car pulled away to join the throng of traffic heading down the Champs-Elysees.

  ‘You were going to leave weren’t you?’ he challenged. ‘I thought we had an agreement? I could see you weighing up an escape plan. You thought you could disappear into the crowd?’

  ‘Huh. I’m surprised you noticed with all of that touching going on. Are you sure you really want me hanging around? Am I not in the way? Were you surprised to see her? It must have been so irritating for you. I mean she could have stayed out of the way until you told her it was safe,’ she almost spat the words.

  He ignored her questions shaking his head with frustrated anger.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me you remembered Cressida? I thought I asked you to tell me about the memories you retrieved.’

  He was annoyed, formal in his speech.

  ‘What’s the matter? Are you concerned whether or not I remember that you two were having an affair and still are by the looks of it.’

  She heard herself hiss the words and was surprised at the anger and hurt she felt so strongly.

  Raoul smiled.

  ‘So you are beginning to remember our life together?’

  ‘Yeah and obviously the reason I chose to forget it. As soon as I get back to the Chateau I am leaving you, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do to stop me,’ she said sharply, leaving no room for negotiation.

  ‘You aren’t going anywhere, Sabrina. I think it’s about time I properly reminded you that you are my wife and of the life we shared together.’

  Raoul shouted at the driver in French and within minutes the car was pulling off the road to the side and into a small restaurant car park. Raoul undid his seatbelt the moment the car came to a halt and moved along the wide seat of the Mercedes towards her. Afraid and more than a little frustrated by meeting Cressida, Sabrina opened the car door and got out. Undeterred by the dark or the small wood and fields that stretched out in front of her, Sabrina walked on fuelled by rage and the need to escape. She was vaguely aware of Raoul talking to the driver, and then she heard quick marching male footsteps behind her.

  She ignored him and quickened her pace. She wasn’t thinking straight, and she knew it.

  Where the hell am I going to go? All I want is to have a few moments to myself to think.

  But Raoul was to match her pace as she walked into the wood determined on losing him. Maybe she could find somewhere to ring the police and get some help to go home back to London. It was a crazy thought. She couldn’t just run away from this. Her mind was racing and splintering with fractured memories. Exasperated, she stopped dead putting her hands to her head and turned to shout at Raoul.

  ‘Don’t you ever give
up? Just let me go.’

  Raoul caught her arms.

  ‘No. I can’t. I will never give up on us. I told you that night at the ball. We love each other. There has never been anyone else for me. I am not letting you just walk out of my life and disappear again.’

  ‘You are lying to me. I saw the way you were with Cressida. I am not stupid. If I wanted a divorce all those years ago, I had my reasons. I don’t make snap decisions. I would have had all of my fact straights.’

  ‘Yes, just like the lawyer you always were. You always had to be right,’ Raoul sneered.