The Traveller's Daughter

by Michelle Vernal

  ***

  Cat had decided after a quick inventory of the house with them all trailing along behind her like a movie star’s entourage that the light was best in the kitchen. Once back where they’d started, she shooed the others from the room indicating that Kitty should stay. She pulled a chair out from the table and dragged it closer to the window before patting it, Kitty sat down and watched as she opened her case. She strained forward trying to see what exactly Cat had in her bag of tricks, but the cape she pulled out obscured her view. She gave it a flap to straighten it before draping it around her shoulders.

  Christian popped his head around the door as Cat lifted her hair out of the way and fastened the Velcro at the back of her neck eager to see how things were progressing.

  “The weather it is perfectionnement today for our photograph as you will be too Kitty.” He put his fingers to his mouth and blew her a kiss.

  Kitty smiled nervously and then remembering the question she wanted to ask called after him “Christian, when did my mother give you her dress?”

  “Ah, it is erm pretty, oui?” He reappeared in the doorway. “She was a vision in it your belle maman. When she left Paris, she asked if I wanted to keep it. The memories of all that had happened when she wore it were too painful. I have kept it ever since as a memento of her time with me and of Midsummer Lovers. It is yours now Kitty, and that is as it should be.”

  “Thank you for looking after it. I will treasure it.”

  “You are welcome ma belle.”

  He had smiled at her fondly before Cat flapped her hand at him to leave them to it, and Kitty resisted the urge to beg him to stay and protect her from this scary woman.

  True to her word the first thing Cat decided to do after Christian had closed the door, and she had laid out her colourful tools of the trade was snip at Kitty’s fringe. As she produced scissors and a comb from her case, Kitty was reminded of Mary Poppins magical carpet bag and she was half expecting her to pull out a hat stand next. She closed her eyes and grimaced as Cat began trimming her bangs into the short, blunt style her mother had favoured. It had suited Rosa well enough five decades ago, but she wasn’t so sure it would suit her. She clasped her hands together to stop herself from batting the redheaded women’s hand away. Six weeks, she told herself, six weeks and it would be back to her favoured length.

  It didn’t take long and placing the scissors back on the table Cat combed and pulled her hair back into a high ponytail. She moved swiftly on to tidying up her eyebrows and spent an age coaxing them into the shape she wanted before making up her face. It was strange, Kitty thought as blusher was rubbed into her cheeks, all this fussing over makeup because her mother wouldn’t have been wearing any when Midsummer Lovers was taken. Mind you she had been considerably younger than Kitty was now so she was probably going to need all the help she could get to pass as a girl of sixteen.

  The process seemed to take forever, and she silently asked all the models she had ever thought earned shed loads of money for doing pretty much nothing for their forgiveness. She could not be doing with all this primping on a regular basis it would drive her potty. It wasn’t as if she and Cat could pass the time by exchanging sparkling conversation either thanks to the language barrier. She’d given up after a few attempts of asking her how her trip down from Paris had been or who the last famous person she worked with was. All she had gotten for her efforts was a frown followed by a bewildered. “Pardon?”

  Kitty was just beginning to squirm at the uncomfortable reminder of yesterday’s sting that thanks to all the sitting was beginning to ache when Cat at last undid the cape. Pulling a mirror from her bag, she held it up in front of Kitty with a satisfied, “Voila!”

  Peering into the mirror, Kitty’s eyes widened and she gasped because the girl who was looking back at her was just that, a girl. She looked so young with her chopped bangs and dewy makeup. She looked she realised, just like Rosa. “Oh my gosh-wow!” She breathed and Cat, who understood the sentiment if not the phrase, looked pleased as she undid the cape and shook it out. Kitty stood up and stretched before thanking her.

  “Oui, oui no problem. You ask Jonny to come in pronto s´il vous plaít.”

  Kitty nodded and felt suddenly shy at showing the others Cat’s handy work as she left the room. There was no sign of Simone and Christian, but she found Jonny sitting in the front room. His foot casually rested on his opposite knee as he flicked through a magazine looking like he was sitting at the Barbers waiting his turn. He didn’t see her and she took the opportunity to observe him for a moment. When he wasn’t glowering, he was rather handsome in a swashbuckling sort of way. Visions of him wielding a sword on the decks of a Pirate ship assailed her as she decided that on closer inspection, while he had the look of his uncle there were subtle differences. The hint of a cleft in his chin for instance that must belong to his mother’s side. He looked like a man who worked with his hands too she decided, annoyed that the very thought of those hands had made little goose bumps stand up on her arms.

  She shook her head, telling herself not to go there, as clearing her throat she was pleased to see him jump. It was payback for his sneaking up on her the way he had outside the patisserie. It was nice she thought, as he nearly dropped the magazine at the sight of her, to see him flustered for a change.

  “Jaysus you’re the spit of her! That’s spooky, so it is.”

  Kitty felt herself flush under his gaze and was filled with the need to get away from him. “Well that’s the whole idea. Cat asked me to send you in. It’s your turn now.”

  “If she did that to you what in God’s name is she going to do to me?” He muttered getting to his feet, but she was already halfway down the hall and didn’t hear him.

  ***

  Kitty sat down on the bed; the dress was lying over the rails at the bottom of it. She’d change into it in a moment but first she needed to talk to Yasmin and fill her in on what had happened with Damien last night. She needed some firm words where Jonny was concerned too because the way he was making her feel like a silly school girl every time she was around him was just not on. Yas would put things into perspective for her, and with a glance at the time she saw that she wouldn’t have gone to work yet – good. She hit the call button and after a few rings her friend picked up.

  “Kitty! I wanted to call you last night, but Mario had his beady eye on me all night, and we were flat out, so I didn’t dare slip away and ring you. Then by the time I got home it was too late but I seriously contemplated phoning because the headboard banging against the wall kept me awake until at least two a.m. Honestly, Piggy and Slimy can go at it for hours on end. I know I have said it before, but I reckon he must take a supplement because I am telling you it is just not natural. That girl should be bow legged with all the action she gets.”

  “Slow down Yas, what happened last night then?” Kitty smiled at her friend’s one hundred miles an hour gush refusing to think about Paula and Steve’s bedroom antics.

  “Mr Amatriciana came in again last night and this time he was by himself.”

  “Oooh,” Kitty said. “Love is in the air!”

  “Kitty I am telling you he is gorgeous. To die for gorgeous. I might be imagining it in fact I quite possibly am you know me. I think when I asked him if his meal were to his liking he was on the verge of asking me on a date. Then this man with a stomach that looked nine months gone and who should not have ordered spaghetti carbonara, I mean come on all that cream ugh – interrupted us wanting more parmesan. I was so pissed I wanted to pick up one of his noodles and flick him in the face with it before marching him off to an Overeaters Anonymous meeting.”

  Kitty laughed. “I don’t know how you get all those words out in one breath. It’s a good job you didn’t assault a customer with a noodle or Mario really would have just cause to say something!”

  “Mario can get stuffed just because he is Bruno’s cousin he thinks he can lord it over me. He’s the maître de, not the boss. Ugh so annoying.”<
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  “Um, Yas it’s because he is Bruno’s cousin that he can lord it over us.”

  “Yeah, whatever. What with Piggy and Slimy at it I couldn’t help fantasizing about Mr Amatriciana and I doing some headboard banging of our own. In between all of that, I was busy worrying about you swanning about the town with the Shag Beast. Please tell me you did not sleep with him.”

  Kitty couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s terminology. “I did not sleep with him in fact you will be proud of me because I gave him the push for good this time.” She filled her in on what had transpired over their meal last night. When she had finished, she heard a clunk followed by clapping. Yas must have put the phone down to give her a round of applause she realised grinning, and sitting up a bit straighter. She’d earned that show of appreciation, and she was proud of herself. Sitting here now having resolved things with Damien once and for all she felt a lot better than she had in a long time. It had been a rocky road to get this far, but she had made it.

  Yasmin came back on the line. “Yay you’ve done it, girl! You’ve officially moved on.”

  “Mm.”

  “Uh-oh, I don’t like the sound of that. What’s going on?”

  Kitty took a breath and began to tell her about Jonny and her suspicion as to why her knees seemed to go weak whenever she was around him. It happened despite his apparent ability to be a right arse when it suited him, and she thought it might be something to do with her getting swept up in the drama of her mother’s old romance.

  “Tread carefully Kitty. You can recreate the photo, but you can’t recreate the past.”

  “I know but speaking of recreating the past you want to see what Cat’s done to me.”

  “What are you on about what cat?”

  “Cat’s the makeup artist Tres Belle magazine sent; she arrived this morning to do hair and makeup, and she has turned me into a clone of my mother as a sixteen-year-old.”

  “Ooh lucky you I wish some expert would come and knock fifteen years off my age with a wave of her magic brushes. I want to see, take a selfie and flick it through.”

  “No.”

  “Oh come on.” Yasmin wheedled. “You can’t tease me like that it’s not fair.”

  “I am not sending you a pic because you will only laugh at it.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Oh yes you would especially when you saw the state of my fringe.”

  “Oh, dear is it above the eyebrows?”

  “It is so far up my flipping forehead that it might as well not be there.”

  There was a snorting sound down the phone.

  “Told you, you would laugh and you haven’t even seen a picture.”

  “No, but I will soon when it’s featured in Tres Belle. Hey who knows you might even make the cover. I can see it now all those bored people in the supermarket queues gazing at your face wondering who did your hair.”

  “Don’t!”

  “Sorry just grit your teeth and think of the money. It’s a small fortune. If it makes you

  feel better I’d get a perm, a bloody blue rinse and pose naked for the cover of the Marie Clare for the sake of five grand.”

  “I suppose.” Kitty muttered grimly. She was not sure how she would handle posing with a look of adoration on her face as she gazed up at Jonny in the square in just a few short hours. Not when she was already feeling so confused. She didn’t need to muddy the waters, what she needed to do was bring him round just enough to take her back to Ireland with him.

  “I can hear the cogs turning from here what are you plotting?”

  “Don’t yell at me Yas but I’m thinking of changing my flight home and going to Dublin.”

  Chapter 23

  An empty sack does not stand – Irish Proverb

  The little group was clustered around the spot in the square where the original Midsummer Lovers had been snapped fifty years ago. A print of the photograph was propped up on an easel over by where Christian was standing. It was for him to reference having announced he had no time for those handheld devices, like the iPad Simone was currently toting about importantly. The leafy tree nearby was creating the dappled light that he had exclaimed ‘perfectionnement’ over; it was his word of the day. He had used it when he’d first caught sight of Kitty wearing Rosa’s dress too. Now, his head was bowed as he fiddled with his camera in between signing autographs with a flourish that suited him. It was much to Simone’s consternation as she tried to keep the crowd of spectators who had gathered around them at bay.

  Standing there with Jonny both of them dressed in their 1960’s garb, Kitty was feeling vaguely ridiculous as she waited to be told what to do next. She could tell by Jonny’s bowed head that he did too. He stood with his hands resting on the bicycle that had materialized seemingly from thin air just in time for them to walk the short distance down to the square. The bike looked like it had been salvaged from a local museum. Gazing at it now she felt sad knowing what Michael’s fate had been as he cycled along on a bicycle just like the one his nephew was now holding on to.

  She couldn’t help but wonder too, how seeing that bike leaning against the wall in the hallway for the first time this morning must have made Jonny feel. How recreating this image he loathed because of what it had represented to him must be making him feel now. She guessed he was probably doing what Yasmin had suggested she do, and that was grit her teeth and think of the money.

  He wasn’t giving anything away. There was no sign of emotion on his face other than embarrassment Kitty thought, eyeing him surreptitiously. He looked the rakishly handsome part too dressed as he was in a shirt and black trousers with worn work boots on his feet. It was just like the get up his uncle had been wearing all those years ago. Cat had worked her magic on him too, and his eyes were no longer bleary nor was there any sign of the six o’clock shadow he had been sporting earlier.

  Glancing around at the spectators who had gathered to watch the photo shoot, Kitty felt her insides flutter because she had not factored in an audience when she’d envisaged this current scenario. A tourist jostled past her to get to Christian, and she pulled a face. Simone leant over and whispered in her ear that it was to be expected because he was one of the photography world’s greats, and Midsummer Lover’s was the photographic icon of its decade.

  Kitty raised a well-shaped eyebrow hearing that because she suspected a lot of the people crowding around them would never have even heard of it given their age. They just wanted to be part of whatever it was that was obviously about to happen as they took sneaky snaps of them with their phones to download on social media later. The thought of being splashed all over strangers’ Facebook pages didn’t help settle her nerves, and she wished they could just get on with it instead of all this faffing about.

  At last Christian looked up and announced he was satisfied his equipment was ready before signing his name to one last scrap of paper being thrust at him. Simone clapped her hands and barked in a tone that brooked no argument first in French, and then in English for everybody to please stand back while they began shooting. “Monsieur Beauvau will be happy to sign any further autographs when we have finished.” She added.

  Kitty’s mouth twitched as she watched Christian preen, he loved the attention she realised. He did not fall into the category of a photographer who preferred to live his life behind a lens rather than in front of it.

  As the crowd fanned out Simone began directing Kitty and Jonny with all the skill of a seasoned film director as to where they should stand. Satisfied she had them in the right spot so that the light seeping through the nearby foliage was hitting them just so, she demonstrated to Kitty how she should angle her body. Kitty tried to emulate her, and Simone eyed her critically for a moment. Taking hold of her arm she moved it, so it was angled slightly behind her skirt as befitted the motion of walking. Glancing at her iPad and then back at Kitty she ordered her not to move as she turned her attention to Jonny, and began manipulating him into position until she was certain she had his
pose right. She looked toward Christian, and seeing him give the thumbs up she moved away from them both to go and stand by his side.

  Kitty had been worried about the emotion of the moment when she finally had to look up at Jonny just as her mother had done that day with Michael. She was so tense with the unnaturalness of the situation that there was no room for emotion. It all felt so impersonal and forced. She had a feeling Christian was going to earn his money this afternoon. It was like what she’d read movie stars say about filming intimate scenes; there was nothing in the least bit intimate about it when you had a roomful of people directing your every move.

  Christian peered into his camera and told Simone that she should move the bicycle just so. She dutifully did so and when he was satisfied it was now where it should be he called out, “Okay, so we count to three and then Kitty I want you to smile as you look up at Jonny oui?”

  “Oui,” Kitty called back to him feeling like a talking statue.

  “Smile like he is the only man in the world, and you are brimming over with happiness. Jonny, you are a witty man who has made this woman that you love with all your heart and soul laugh.”

  Kitty squirmed; Jonny must be hating every second of this. He held such a skewed memory of the events surrounding this picture. As for Jonny being witty and her brimming over with happiness, well that was a big bloody ask. Christian held his fingers up as he began counting and on the cue of three, she forced her mouth into a smile. She turned her head to look up at Jonny, who in turn was looking down at her with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. She hoped as she met his gaze, she was managing to convey a look of longing. Apparently not because in a show of artistic temperament, Christian stamped his foot.

  “Non, non, non! You look like you need the toilette, Kitty. You are in love! So I want you to smile oui? Not this terrible grimace like you have the stomach ache understand?”