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Secrets From the Past

Page 16

by Barbara Taylor Bradford


  ‘They sure are,’ Geoff said, still looking Cara, and lifted his glass. ‘Cheers,’ he murmured, and barely glanced at the orchids.

  Cara smiled, her manner coy once again. She said, ‘Santé.’

  I turned from her to Geoff, and hurried away when Jessica came into the sitting room. I was somewhat alarmed to see her left arm bandaged. ‘What have you done? How have you hurt yourself?’ I cried, and peered at her intently.

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing, Pidge, I just bumped my arm on the fridge door. Honestly, it’s okay, don’t fuss,’ Jessica murmured, and went over to greet Harry and Geoff.

  I stood watching her glide across the room, and then I slowly walked to the windows facing the terrace, stood looking out. It had started to rain, and in the distance I could hear the rumble of thunder. Lightning flashed intermittently. I wondered if a Mistral was blowing up. It was still possible at this time of year.

  Suddenly Harry was standing next to me. I turned to him. ‘Did I imagine that? Or did those two just glom onto each other in the most extraordinary way?’

  ‘They did indeed.’

  ‘I can’t believe it! Yesterday Geoff was down in the dumps because his ex-wife had taken up with another man. Tonight he’s gazing at Cara like a hungry man about to devour a tasty morsel.’

  Harry chuckled. ‘I think he is hungry,’ he said softly, keeping his voice low. ‘And you’ve got to admit, she does look ravishing tonight.’

  ‘She does, that’s true, but his behaviour is unexpected. After all, he was so dour last night, I thought he would burst into tears at any minute. Now he’s raring to go. This is crazy.’

  ‘You never know what people are going to do, Serena. Human behaviour can be most extraordinary. That’s why I’m no longer shocked by anything. But to tell you the truth, I am a bit surprised at Geoff’s behaviour myself.’

  ‘Cara hasn’t looked at a man since Jules was killed two years ago.’ I shook my head and whispered, ‘I never thought she’d be interested in a tall, lanky Californian with streaky blond hair and a twangy way of speaking. But, as Granny used to say, there’s no accounting for taste.’

  ‘The world is a funny place,’ Harry murmured. ‘We never know what’s going to happen. Is there a grand plan to all of our lives? Or is everything random, accidental, happenstance? Who knows?’ He moved away from the window. ‘I decided years ago to just let it all come at me, and I deal with it as it happens.’ He shrugged. ‘What else is there to do? And by the way, where is Zac?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I frowned, put my drink down on a glass end table, and told Harry I was going upstairs to find out.

  The moment I walked into my bedroom, and went through to Zac’s room, calling out his name, I knew something was wrong. I could feel it in the air.

  He was sitting on a chair, wearing his bathrobe, holding a hairbrush in his hand. He looked up and stared at me. I was certain he had been crying. His eyes were red and puffy.

  ‘Zac, whatever is it?’ I asked, sitting down on the other chair. I took hold of his hand. ‘Have you had a bad memory? A flashback?’

  He shook his head, ‘No, I haven’t. After my shower I just started to cry, I don’t know why. I just did, as I have in the past. I told you about that. And I couldn’t stop. Not for a long time.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I know this happens unexpectedly. Do you want to stay in your room? I can tell everyone you’re not feeling well. There’s no problem, you know.’

  ‘There is for me, Pidge. It’s Tommy’s memorial dinner. Of course I can’t miss it. And I don’t want to. I’ll be okay in a few seconds.’ He stood up, forced a smile. ‘I’ll brush my hair, and get dressed. Go on, go down. I’ll follow you shortly.’

  I also stood, put my arms around him and held him tightly to me. ‘I love you,’ I said. ‘I’m here for you.’

  I ran downstairs, and returned to the peach sitting room. Harry and Jessica were in a deep discussion, more than likely about the idea of the auction, and Cara and Geoff were seated on the sofa closest to the coffee table.

  I went to sit with them, listened to my sister talking to Geoff with great expertise about some of the orchids she had grouped together. There were several gorgeous and unique slipper orchids, some green and white, some in various shades of pink, and they looked beautiful grouped together in plain white porcelain pots in the centre of the bronze coffee table. I noticed Geoff suddenly sniffing. He looked at Cara and frowned. ‘Why do I smell chocolate?’ he asked, obviously puzzled.

  Cara smiled, looking very pleased. ‘I was waiting for you to notice. What you’re smelling is this one here.’ She indicated a dark burgundy-brown speckled orchid on the lamp table next to the sofa. ‘It’s called Sharry Baby, it’s an Oncidium, and yes it gives off a smell like chocolate. I just love it myself.’

  ‘I’ll be darned,’ Geoff said, and gazed at my sister as if he was awestruck.

  I saw Zac coming down the stairs and, jumping up, went to meet him in the hall. ‘Are you feeling better?’

  ‘I’m okay, Serena,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll be all right. I’ve got it together.’

  I nodded, took his arm, strolled into the room with him. I was pleased that he was wearing an open-necked pristine white shirt with long sleeves. He had thrown a red sweater over his shoulders, and he looked relaxed – somewhat collegiate in appearance.

  Harry came over at once, carrying a glass of champagne for Zac, and the three of us stood talking near the window.

  Not long after this, Jessica raised her voice slightly, and said, ‘I’d like to propose a toast. To Dad. Cara, Serena, will you both come and stand here with me, please?’

  We did as she asked.

  Jessica raised her glass, and so did we. And the men followed suit. In her clear, light voice, Jessica said, ‘Here’s to Tommy, a man we all loved very much in our different ways. He died a year ago today, but he still lives on in our hearts, and he will never be forgotten. To Tommy.’

  We all said in unison: ‘To Tommy!’ And drank our pink champagne, which had been his favourite, and thought our private thoughts.

  Harry spoke about him, and so did Zac. I listened, and was pleased with their words. And then Geoff talked for a few seconds about Dad as well.

  I did not want to speak at this moment, and neither did my sisters. We had discussed that earlier. Our time would come later. During dinner or afterwards, whichever we preferred. We would talk about him in our own way, reminisce and relate anecdotes, and celebrate that he had lived, had been part of our lives.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Earlier, I had worried that the evening might become sad and tearful. But quite the opposite happened. Right from the start of dinner we laughed a lot. The numerous anecdotes the men told about Dad were amusing, and the next hour was filled with hilarity, whether it was Harry, Zac or Geoff speaking. I thought they did this on purpose, not wishing to be sorrowful.

  Jessica was sitting between Harry and Zac, ignoring her bandaged arm. She told me that she had had Adeline wrap it, in order to prevent the Arnica cream she had used getting on her silk dress. Nonetheless, I was keeping an eye on her, and Cara and I had not allowed her to serve the food or do anything in the kitchen.

  The two of us had taken over and, with the help of Adeline, Lulu’s daughter, we had managed things very well. Adeline, who had been the housekeeper here for many years, was small, dark-haired and spry, flew around the kitchen like a woman half her age, and was always good natured, willing, and a great cook herself.

  The dinner Jessica had cooked was not complicated to

  serve. There was a salad, already plated, composed of artichoke hearts, tiny rock shrimps and mandarin segments with a vinaigrette dressing, followed by rack of lamb with roasted potatoes and green beans.

  At one moment, when dinner was almost over, Harry congratulated Jessica, told her the meal was a triumph, and we all toasted her. She beamed with pleasure, looking flushed, very happy.

  Dessert was a tarte tatin, the upside-down apple tart
she excelled at, and it was served with dollops of thick cream. It had been Dad’s favourite, which was why she had chosen to make it.

  The three men, who continued to tell stories about Tommy for some time, kept us laughing, and then eventually we girls took over.

  Jessica kept the merriment afloat when she launched into the tale of Dad having to learn as much as he could about boats and sailing, because of her love for the sea and her desire to become a sailor. She induced more laughter when she explained how he had grumbled and protested loudly at first, claiming he got seasick, that she must find a different interest. Of course, ultimately he had relented, had become a superb sailor, had taught her well. And he ended up loving the sea and boats as much as she did.

  Cara spoke next, confiding that our father’s greatest gift to his daughters was his talent for making each one of us believe we were extra-special to him. She pointed out how brilliant he was at that, since everyone was aware I was his favourite.

  I protested with great volubility, denying this, but my protests were ignored.

  Then Cara plunged on with her own favourite story about Tommy. Dad had made a tremendous effort to take her to the Chelsea Flower Show every May; when he couldn’t go, he always paid for this much-longed-for trip. Mom had accompanied her, if she was not filming, and Dad, too, when he was not covering a war. If they were both busy with work, Granny stood in. The famous flower show had been the highlight of her life at that particular time, had been the inspiration for her career, she finished.

  My own special remembrances of Dad were many, but I chose to talk about the endless hours, days, weeks and months he had spent training me to keep myself safe on the front line: how to dodge bullets, cleverly hide myself if necessary, and how to know when it was vital to vacate a combat zone, PDQ.

  This was not one of the stories that made anyone laugh, but they listened attentively, which pleased me.

  There was a certain stillness around the table when I’d finished, and I knew that Harry, Zac and Geoff were suddenly thinking of their own experiences, and remembering a lot.

  Just after this, breaking the quiet mood that surrounded us, Jessica lifted her glass, and said, ‘Here’s a toast to Mom, Tommy’s other half.’

  ‘And the lynchpin of his life,’ Harry added, lifting his wine glass, as we all did.

  After the toast, Cara said, ‘She was the lynchpin of our lives as well. Mom was Mother Earth, always there for us, and she never let her fame or career get in the way. She was always our mother, occasionally a movie star. And she had one rule, which was never broken. We were never allowed to be in the limelight, never photographed. We remained anonymous. She protected us in that way, because she wanted us to be safe.’

  Jessica looked across at me, and then glanced around the table. She said, ‘As the youngest, Serena got away with murder. And since she was also a bit cheeky, plus intrepid, she asked Mom a lot of questions – questions Cara and I would have never dared to ask.’ Smiling at me, she added, ‘Go on, Serena, tell us about the time you quizzed Mom about her many husbands.’

  Cara exclaimed, ‘Oh yes, I love that story! Go on, Serena, start talking.’

  I made a slight grimace, but began, ‘I knew Mom had had three husbands before Dad. Since she was only in her early thirties when she married Tommy, I asked her how old she had been when she’d married the first husband.’

  I took a sip of wine, and went on, ‘She told me she had married Andrew Miller when she was twenty-three. Mostly in order to escape from home. And for her independence. She soon discovered she couldn’t stand him, and they were divorced within a year. She was twenty-five when she married David Carstairs. She was in awe of him, admired him. He was a famous director, and an intellectual. But that blew up, too, after four years. Her third was Malcolm Thompson. And she married him because he convinced her he wanted a family, like she did. But that didn’t happen either—’ I broke off, thinking I’d now said enough.

  ‘Don’t stop, Pidge!’ Jessica exclaimed. ‘After all, you’re the one who knows about these marriages. She never discussed them with us.’

  ‘It was my understanding that Malcolm didn’t really want a family,’ I said. ‘So the relationship became tumultuous and the divorce was acrimonious. Mom took off for France to make a movie.’

  ‘And then later she met Dad one day, and it was love at first sight,’ Cara finished for me with a triumphant flourish.

  ‘That’s the absolute truth,’ Harry interjected. ‘I was with Tommy when he met Elizabeth, and it was indeed love at first sight – a genuine coup de foudre. It was the most romantic and beautiful love affair I ever witnessed, and it lasted until the day Elizabeth died.’

  ‘And even after that,’ Cara murmured. ‘Dad never stopped loving Mom.’

  A short while later, Jessica led the men into the peach sitting room, and Cara and I stayed behind to help Adeline clear the table, which we did with great speed.

  At one moment, when Cara and I were alone, I asked, ‘What was all that about earlier with Geoff?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, shrugging her shoulders lightly. ‘He stared at me. I stared at him. And we connected in an uncanny way. I guess something clicked. How do you explain these things?’ She looked baffled, then gave me a diffident smile. ‘Don’t you like him, Serena?’

  ‘Of course I do!’ I said at once. ‘He’s been a good friend over the years. And it was selfless and brave of him to risk his life, going into Helmand Province to get Zac out the way he did.’

  ‘Yes, it was,’ she agreed. She stared at me intently. ‘We just glommed onto each other, I guess.’

  ‘No kidding!’ I exclaimed.

  She had the good grace to laugh at my sarcastic comment.

  Cara and I finally joined the others in the peach sitting room. The storm was still raging outside, and Harry had banked up the fire. We all sat around the hearth, enjoying the warmth and cosiness, sipping coffee and cognacs, and talking into the night.

  Harry spoke again about Mom and Dad, and our parents’ enduring love story, and we listened to him attentively, having always loved his ‘take’ on them. After all he had been their closest friend, and Dad’s lifelong friend, part of our family always.

  At one moment Harry came and sat next to me on the sofa. He took hold of my hand. ‘It’s been a great evening, Serena, just the way Tommy and Elizabeth would have wanted it … a celebration of their lives. And there was nothing sad about it.’

  I simply nodded, suddenly feeling choked up. I gave Harry a quavery smile, and he put his arm around me, brought me closer to him.

  He said softly, ‘Tommy used to say that we must never look back, only look forward, go forward and meet the new day. That’s what you must do now – what we all must do.’

  Several hours later I awakened with a sudden start and sat up. Zac had left my bed at some point during the night, because he was restless, and shouting in his sleep. There was no sound now, but nonetheless I got up and went to see if he was all right.

  He was sound asleep, no longer appeared restless. This pleased me. I was also gratified that he had been careful about his intake of alcohol, had drunk much more coffee than cognac after dinner. He was obviously keeping a check on himself. A very good sign, as far as I was concerned.

  Returning to my room, I sat down on the edge of the bed. I was wide awake. Something was nagging at the back of my mind, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. I looked at the clock, was startled to see that it was almost six in the morning. I felt a sudden compulsion to go downstairs, stepped into my slippers, pulled on my robe and left the room.

  A few seconds later I was walking into the kitchen. All the lights were on and Cara was kneeling next to Jessica, who was prone on the floor.

  ‘My God! What’s happened?’ I cried and rushed to my sisters, filled with alarm and concern.

  Jessica explained, ‘I came down to make the coffee, and I don’t know exactly what happened, but I tripped and fell. I think I sprained my ankle.’<
br />
  Cara said, ‘I got up to go running, but as I was getting into my tracksuit, I felt that something was wrong with Jessica. So I rushed to her room. You know how twins are. When she wasn’t there, I came down here. And sure enough, I found her on the floor, incapacitated.’

  ‘I’d just fallen a few minutes before,’ Jessica added. ‘And I was finding it hard to get up.’

  ‘We’re going to help you,’ Cara said reassuringly.

  Taking charge in her usual way whenever there was a crisis, she continued: ‘I’m going to bend down behind you, Jess, and put my hands under your arms. And Serena, I want you to stand on Jessica’s right. Stand sideways and put your right arm in front of her, so she can grab your arm with both hands. Put your left arm around her waist, to keep her steady.’

  I did exactly as Cara had instructed.

  Cara said to Jessica, ‘I want you to put your weight on your left foot as we attempt to pull you up. Okay?’

  ‘Understood,’ Jessica answered, sounding strained, worried.

  Bending forward, Cara put her hands under Jessica’s arms. Jessica reached out to me, held onto my right arm tightly. I smiled at her encouragingly.

  Somehow, with a bit of an effort, we managed to get our sister off the floor and upright. We helped her to hop over to the alcove, where she could sit down. But before she sat, she put her right foot on the floor and took a step, and winced with pain.

  ‘I have a feeling my ankle’s broken,’ she muttered, and sat down heavily on the chair.

  As usual, Cara voiced her troubled thoughts immediately, but she was also echoing mine, when she said, ‘I’m afraid you might have the same type of rare osteoporosis Mom had. I think you will have to have more bone tests.’

  Jessica remained silent, simply nodded her assent.

  Cara continued, ‘After we’ve had some coffee and toast, we’ll take you to the hospital in Nice. To Emergency.’ She glanced at me. ‘I’m going upstairs to change, and I’ll get some Aleve for Jess. Please make the coffee, Serena, and I’ll be back before you can say Jack Robinson.’

 

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