by Adele Geras
‘Is the letter signed and witnessed?’
‘Yes … Mme Franchard has signed it and Solange Richoux has witnessed it. And there’s a date: twenty-fifth of July 2007.’
‘Excellent. That will make everything easy. There are no competing claims on her will, so there will be no problem, I think. I will have to find out about the details of this house. I did not know of it. Your great-aunt is – how do you say in English? A black horse?’
‘A dark horse.’
‘Exactement. A dark horse. She tells me very little about herself. I think you will have to come to France, when I have discovered what is to be done, to sign the papers and of course you will wish to see the property, is that not so?’
‘Yes, thank you. I don’t know what to say. Thank you!’
‘I have to thank you, Mademoiselle. Without this, there is only one bequest. To Mme Richoux, your great-aunt had left all her furniture and effects. There is very little money. Very little savings.’
‘Oh,’ Lou said. ‘Right.’ What else could she say?
‘You are fortunate that she has not told me of this house. I would have advised her most strongly to sell it, if I had known about it.’
‘Perhaps that is why she didn’t tell you?’ Lou said.
‘En effet,’ said M. Thibaud, chuckling at the other end of the line. ‘That is quite true. She was a clever woman, I think.’
As she listened to the Frenchman talking, Lou began to take in what had just happened. She had been left a property in Brittany. I’m a property owner, she told herself. I own a house. Neglected, Mme Franchard said, but I can do it up. A vision of herself and Jake and Poppy in Brittany flashed through her mind, in which they looked like something out of a TV property programme – designing features in blond wood and whitewashing a picturesque cottage. She’d be in denim dungarees but still look beautiful – stop it, she told herself. That’s mad. Denim dungarees – where did that come from? She’d been watching too many reruns of The Good Life. And I refuse to count my chickens till I’ve signed all the papers. But I must tell Jake. I wish M. Thibaud would stop talking. I need to talk to Jake. Oh, God, I wish he could be here now …
12
What am I letting myself in for, Phyl wondered. There was no way she could have refused to come to this lunch. Nessa had made a point of saying she needed everyone in the family to be there. There was something she wanted to share with them, that was the way she put it and all sorts of possibilities had gone through Phyl’s mind since she’d received the invitation. There was an actual, physical written invitation: that was unusual. She couldn’t recollect anything more formal than a telephone call on other occasions when Nessa wanted them to visit her at home. This must be something important. Could she be pregnant? Who by? There had been no evidence that she had seen another man since her divorce from Gareth.
‘Has Nessa said anything to you?’ she asked Matt. He was humming under his breath as they drove.
‘About what?’
‘About this lunch. I’m dreading it.’
‘Why? There’s nothing to dread, Phyl, truly.’
‘You’re being stupid, Matt. Ellie will be there. I’m going to feel most uncomfortable.’
Matt said nothing for a while and Phyl was working up to shouting at him for not being sensitive to her feelings when he suddenly turned into a lay-by and stopped the car. He turned to her. ‘I couldn’t say what I wanted to say while I was driving. There’s nothing to be uncomfortable about. Ellie’s the one who might feel that, though of course she won’t. You have to realize something, darling. She doesn’t attach importance to sex. That’s the truth of the matter. It’s just — well, like going for a swim, or having a nice meal. Not an activity which has any emotional significance to it.’
‘You don’t know that. I think she wanted you for herself. I think she’d have loved it if you’d left me and asked her to marry you again.’
‘Maybe. Or maybe she thinks she would. I know, and I think if she’s honest she knows as well, that it would be an even greater disaster than it was last time round.’ Matt took her hand. ‘You’re my love, Phyl. Okay? Really, truly, for ever. Do you believe that?’
Phyl nodded. He said, ‘Then just remember that. Hang on to it. This lunch is about Nessa in any case and Ellie will have plenty of distraction. Don’t worry. And we can leave as soon as you like. Just give me a signal. Okay? Ready?’
‘As I’ll ever be.’
‘Well, you look fantastic. So no worries there.’
That was kind of him. Phyl had never been sure of herself where clothes were concerned, but today she reckoned she looked okay. She’d decided to go for a more formal version of what she normally wore because the one thing that she did know was that she looked her best in casual clothes. Dark grey tweedy trousers, a very expensive cream silk shirt, a long string of malachite beads to set it all off and a cashmere cardigan which was exactly the same colour as the necklace. Black suede shoes with a patent leather wedge heel. She’d even gone to the hairdresser and looked, she reckoned, as good as she ever would. Bring it on, Ellie, she thought as they went up the drive of Nessa’s house. I can take it. She took a deep breath. Even with her new-found confidence, she would be delighted when the lunch was over and they were on their way home again.
*
Nessa had certainly pushed the boat out. The table was laid with a white tablecloth and the white, pink and dark red roses in the gloriously over-the-top centrepiece were obviously proud to be made of silk and didn’t pretend for a moment to be the real thing. The food had been provided by a firm called Simply Natural. Lou knew this because she’d seen the logo on the van delivering the grub earlier that morning. She and Jake had been the first to arrive. Nessa had asked them to come early, because she wanted what she called ‘ballast’ against her own mother and Matt and Phyl.
Tamsin had been put in charge of Poppy and was doing a very good job too. Lou hoped that having someone dance attendance on her every second of the time wouldn’t go to her daughter’s head. Poppy had only to indicate that she wanted something and Tamsin rushed to provide it. She cuddled her, she talked to her, she read stories to her and now the two of them were in the kitchen. Poppy’s meal had been heated in the microwave and Tamsin was tucking into what looked suspiciously like fish fingers and chips. To each his own. There were a couple of members of Simply Natural’s staff overseeing the serving of the meal, and they’d promised to keep an eye on the children.
‘Call me if she’s any trouble,’ Lou had told Tamsin before she sat down at the table, but so far so good. Occasionally, she tuned out of what was being said around her and listened to the sounds coming from the kitchen, but there’d been nothing untoward and so she began to relax. Nothing had been said so far, but Lou knew what this lunch was about. Nessa was going to tell Ellie and Matt and Phyl (and Justin, too, if he didn’t know already) about Mickey. She’d clearly thought carefully about the seating. A round table made things a little easier. Mickey was on Nessa’s right. Then, going anti-clockwise round the table, Matt, Phyl, Jake, Lou herself, Justin, and Ellie on Nessa’s left. Lou felt like blowing a fanfare or something, to herald the announcement that was surely due any minute now.
They’d eaten smoked salmon, a delicious Greek pie made from filo pastry with a filling of cheese and spinach and had just tucked into a chestnut and brandy trifle which was quite the most delicious thing Lou had ever tasted. She wondered fleetingly whether she could get the recipe from someone at Simply Natural but dismissed the thought almost at once. She wasn’t a cook and had no real intention of becoming one in the near future.
The talk, all through the meal, had been general. Topics covered included America and the pros and cons of living in Britain rather than in the States. Justin told them about a new scheme of his, which sounded even more dodgy than the last one. He was going to Argentina with Ellie to look into setting up a property business there. Dad, Lou thought, looked as though the less he heard about this plan, the b
etter he’d like it. Argentina! That was a long way to go to start over again. Mum was very quiet and Lou wondered why that was. Could it really be that she hadn’t got over being Dad’s second wife, after Ellie? Was it possible that she still felt unconfident after all these years? That would be astonishing, but it was quite true that Ellie did put everyone else to shame when it came to OTT showbiz-type glamour. Even Jake was mesmerized by her, though she could see from his expression that part of the fascination was amusement at her outrageousness. The scarlet silk thing she was wearing would have been more suitable on some yacht on the Riviera … long and flowing and kaftan-like, but embroidered round the neck with so many sequins, bugle-beads and other assorted gems that she gave the impression of having turned into a kind of Christmas-tree decoration. You could do worse than have Ellie on the top of your tree, Lou thought, and smiled. Nessa was as smart as she always was, in a clinging silky dress in shades of rust and beige with long amber earrings. Mickey wore a moss-green velvet jacket over a white satin camisole. Lou felt her own black skinny jeans and cream shirt were only just okay, but Jake had bought her a long Missoni scarf in about thirty shades of red which she reckoned was easily the most beautiful thing in the room. It made her feel as though his love was wrapped round her throat. What a soppy thought, she told herself, and took another sip of wine.
‘Okay, everyone,’ Nessa said, tapping her glass with the edge of her knife. ‘I’m sorry to stop the conversation and it won’t be for long, but you must all have been wondering at the reason for this lunch. Some of you may have guessed. Others of you know already, but I thought I’d make a formal announcement so that we can all, well, get it out of the way.’
Dad was pale. Ellie was leaning forward and Lou could see the tops of her breasts and wondered how many garments in her wardrobe had buttons up to the neck. Mum looked bemused and you could just see that Justin had an eyebrow ready to raise. Jake was sitting quietly, wearing what Lou thought of as his poker face: the one that gave nothing away.
‘Here it is, then. You are all of you invited to our wedding. Mickey’s and mine. We’ll be married in a civil ceremony on the twenty-second of December and then spending our honeymoon in St. Lucia – Christmas in the Caribbean.’
Lou thought: Ellie will be the first to break this silence. She was right. Nessa’s mother, to give her credit, gathered her wits more quickly than anyone else and raised her glass in the general direction of Nessa and Mickey. It was obvious that she’d already had a fair amount to drink, but she staggered to her feet and said, ‘I propose a toast to the happy couple! Girl-on-girl action isn’t my kind of thing, sweetie, but the very best of luck to you both and take no notice of what anyone thinks or says. I never have!’ She chortled and took a sip of wine and sank back down again. Lou smiled. Girl-on-girl action was a bit off, perhaps, but the sentiment was a sound one. Bully for Ellie.
Mickey said, ‘Thanks so much, Ellie. We intend to be very, very happy.’
What was Matt going to do? Lou had noticed her father’s mouth falling open at the news but he’d managed to recover himself just in time and, as soon as Ellie had sat down, he raised his own glass to Nessa and Mickey and said, ‘Yes, that’s marvellous news, Nessa. Thank you for telling us in such a splendid way as well. This has been a delightful lunch. We’re all – I think I can speak for everyone, can’t I? – we’re all looking forward greatly to the ceremony. All the best to you both!’
One day, Lou thought, I’ll speak to him and see what he really thinks. He’d never make a scene and he’d never spoil an occasion like this, but was he so relaxed about Nessa becoming a lesbian? What were his views on such things? To her surprise, Lou realized that she’d never discussed it with him. She and Jake had talked it over, of course. He’d been to so many civil ceremonies that he was totally used to it and didn’t bat an eyelid, but Lou had to confess that it would seem a little – well, unusual was the word – to watch Nessa coming down the aisle, or whatever you did at a register office, with another woman. She was so consumed with thinking about their own lovemaking, hers and Jake’s, that she’d long ago given up trying to imagine what it must be like to go to bed with a woman. Nessa, she thought, loves Mickey and that’s what counts. Maybe she feels exactly the same way that I do with Jake when she’s making love to her. Lou realized that every single person, every single couple, was different, so obviously Nessa and Mickey would be too. She wasn’t the same person with Jake as she’d been with Ray. Her half-sister must have enjoyed making love to Gareth once upon a time. I must stop thinking about this, Lou thought. I’m seriously tipsy. I’m confused. There’s only one thing I know and that’s that I love Jake. And he loves me. She raised her own glass and said, ‘That’s the best news, Nessa. I’m really, really happy for both of you.’
*
Children made very good babysitters, Phyl reflected, but they did get fed up quite quickly. Tamsin had done brilliantly, looking after Poppy both before and during lunch. Now, quite understandably, she was bored, and had gone off to her room to do something or other and Phyl had jumped at the chance of leaving the table and taking care of her granddaughter. She decided almost as soon as the baby was in her care that they’d go for a walk in the garden. It wasn’t too cold and the sun was shining in an autumnal way.
‘Come on, Poppykins,’ she said, very pleased at the idea of escape from the company. Ellie hadn’t presented a problem and it occurred to Phyl that Matt may not have told her the full truth. Oh, he’d have let his ex-wife know that there was no future in their relationship, but he could easily have hidden the fact that she, Phyl, knew what had gone on between them. It would have been typical of Matt not to have told her. He’d have reckoned that there would be fewer chances of embarrassment if the story was Phyl knows nothing. Okay, if that was the way he wanted to play it. Ellie must be feeling smug, and that annoyed her. She must be thinking I know something she doesn’t know and revelling in her superior knowledge of what Matt was really like.
‘Never mind, eh, Poppy? I don’t care. I do know and she doesn’t know that I do and that makes me the winner!’
‘Ganny!’ was Poppy’s response. ‘Gardin!’
‘Let me button up your coat. It’s chilly outside.’
Nessa and Gareth’s house (but now Nessa’s alone and maybe soon Nessa and Mickey’s) stood in about an acre of well-cared-for garden. There was a pond near the wall at the back of the property, and Phyl and Poppy made their way down to it. Phyl gave up trying to keep Poppy off the rather damp grass and thought, It’s only clothes and shoes. If they get a little damp, they’ll get dry again.
‘Yoo-hoo!’ Phyl turned round and there was Lou, waving at her from the French window of the sitting room. She’d opened it, which can’t have been what Nessa would have wanted, in this weather. ‘Can I come and look at the fish as well?’
‘Mummmeee!’ Poppy cried and took off in Lou’s direction, wobbling a little as she stumbled over the grass towards her mother. Lou picked her up and together they came to stand by the pond.
‘Typical of Nessa to have a nice clear fishpond with no mud to spoil the fun,’ Lou said. ‘Look at that big fish, Poppy. It’s a big goldfish.’
‘Fish!’ Poppy agreed and struggled to get down for a closer look. She peered over the stone rim of the pond and gazed at its inhabitants as they glided in and out of the plants with which Nessa had decorated their habitat: water lilies and reeds and ferns.
‘What do you think of Nessa’s news, Mum?’
‘I’m … well, I’m thrilled for her of course, but I have to say, I find all that …’ Phyl didn’t know how to put it. She didn’t want to appear old-fashioned, but there was a part of her that shrank slightly at the thought of gay marriages or civil ceremonies, or whatever they were called. There wasn’t anything wrong about it, nothing like that, but in her most secret heart, Phyl was of the opinion that it was a bit – well, strange. Her whole mind shied away from even thinking about what went on in bed when two women were together, but
nowadays you saw enough lovers of the same sex kissing passionately on television to know that even seeing that much did make you feel peculiar. She’d long ago made a decision not to dwell too hard on the nitty-gritty of such relationships, and that was in general. When it came to a woman she had known since childhood and had raised since she was nine years old, then matters were even more complicated. Phyl couldn’t help wondering whether it was anything she’d done … or perhaps it was the result of Nessa’s mother running off and abandoning her … her head was aching with the weight of the knowledge and she hoped very much that she’d grow more used to it by the time the wedding – the civil ceremony – came round. She wasn’t about to tell Lou all this, so she just said, ‘I like Mickey a lot. I hope they’re happy together.’
‘She’s certainly prettier than Gareth,’ Lou said, and for some reason this struck Phyl as very funny and she burst out laughing. Lou joined in, and then so did Poppy.
‘God, I’m sorry, Lou,’ Phyl said. ‘I think I’ve drunk a bit too much.’
‘Me, too … but can I tell you something?’
‘Not if it’s going to be a shock. I can’t take another shock today.’
‘You’re supposed to say surprise. Not shock. That’s a bad thing.’
Phyl smiled. ‘Okay, I understand what you’re saying. Surprise, then. Tell me yours.’
‘Jake. I’m in love with Jake.’
Her happiness was obvious. Phyl recognized the wide grin from childhood, from those times when Lou was at her most joyful.
‘Not a surprise at all. I knew ages ago.’
‘You’re just saying that. Hindsight’s twenty-twenty.’
‘Just because you’re in love with an American, you don’t have to use expressions like that. Twenty-twenty, indeed. And you’re wrong. I knew you liked him when you came down to Dad’s birthday. I could see. And he loves you.’
