Heaven Scent (30 page)

Delphine nodded slowly. ‘And how did Xavier seem?’

Cat was beginning to feel exasperated. What was Delphine driving at? ‘I don’t know. He was happy when he was talking about perfumes, I guess.’

‘I see.’ Delphine’s eyes seemed to brighten and, for whatever reason, she looked satisfied. ‘Preparations for the Rose-Nymphea party are fully underway,’ she added. ‘I insist you stay for it.’

‘Er . . . well, if my passport arrives . . .’ Cat felt panicked. As soon as she had her passport, she intended to leave.

Delphine waved away her hesitation. ‘Please, you must. It was your idea to mark the anniversary. Let’s call it a farewell to your time here.’

‘I’ll see,’ Cat muttered non-committally. Why on earth did the old lady want her to stay for the party all of a sudden?

Up in her room, Cat began to put her clothes away in the drawers of the dresser by the door. The belt on her jeans caught on something in one of the drawers and she bent over to look inside. There, at the back, caught between the bottom and the end part of the drawer, was something small, flat and burgundy coloured. Tugging it out, Cat stared at her passport in utter amazement. Had it been there all along? Surely not. She had checked the drawers in the dresser, even right at the back . . . hadn’t she?

Sitting back on her heels, Cat couldn’t be sure. For a moment, she wondered if someone had planted her passport in the drawer to make it look as though it had been there all the time.

Was she being totally paranoid? Cat quickly dialled Bella for a second opinion. She was in the toilets at her work reading
Heat
magazine. Cat filled her in on recent events, turning beetroot as she recounted the kiss, and waited to hear Bella’s response.

‘Well, firstly, are you insane? What the hell did you kiss that Xavier bloke for? I know you said he was handsome but he sounds like a total dickhead . . .’ Bella sighed. ‘Or he is actually drop-dead gorgeous and you fancy the pants off him?’

‘No way, he’s totally infuriating. Look, I know it’s not my finest hour – can you imagine what the family would think if they found out?’ Cat shook her head gloomily. ‘Anyway, enough of that. What about this passport business? Do you think Delphine is behind it?’

Bella made doubtful noises. ‘I don’t know, Cat. Aren’t you being a bit dramatic?’

Cat realised she probably was. ‘I’m just feeling really paranoid right now, Bel. I can’t work out who I trust here and who even likes me. It’s tough.’

‘The sooner you get home, the better, right?’ When Cat didn’t respond, Bella pressed her. ‘Trouble is, now that we’ve applied for a new passport, the one you’ve just found will have been cancelled.’

‘Damn,’ Cat said, vexed. ‘I forgot about that. Any news on the job?’

‘Ah, about that.’ Bella swiftly explained that the head of the company had put a freeze on all recruitment until the team had completed a campaign they were lagging behind on. ‘It’s a really stroppy client, apparently, but they still really want you to join them. Ben checked they weren’t mucking you around and they’re not at all. It just might be another month or two before they can offer you something.’ There was a rustle as Bella rolled up
Heat
magazine and tucked it in the back of her skirt. ‘I’ve got to get back to work. Cat?’

‘What?’

‘Do me a favour? Please try your hardest not to snog any other members of the family before we talk again?’

 

A few days later, feeling slightly hesitant, Xavier turned the key to his lab and went in. He hadn’t said a word to anyone about returning to the lab, not Cat, not his father and most certainly not his grandmother, but it felt like the right thing to do. The visit to Grasse had unlocked a door in his mind and he was totally consumed by thoughts of perfume-making, particularly the half-finished fragrance he’d abandoned when everything went wrong.

Well, that wasn’t strictly true, Xavier admitted to himself. He had also thought quite a lot about that kiss with Cat, that reckless, erotic, wonderful kiss they’d shared. But what was the point? Cat thought he was ‘emotionally retarded’. Xavier winced. He had no idea how to change her opinion of him without revealing everything about his love life and he really wasn’t sure he wanted to do that. Who was Cat Hayes to him, anyway? She was Olivier’s widow and he’d do well to remember that.

He put on his white coat, a shiver of anticipation filtering through him. The coat felt like a familiar friend; comfortable, safe and like coming home. He dug out some of the formulas he had developed a few years ago before his mother’s death and went through them, discarding some and selecting the ones he kept going back to. The air became thick with aromas and he was soon totally immersed in the perfume-making process all over again. Scents of vanilla and caramel emerged, immediately summoning up childhood days spent in the family kitchen; bitter-sweet, orangey petit grain and almond blossom, reminiscent of La Fleurie in full bloom; and the distinctly oriental aroma of rich, musky jasmine.

Angelique
. Xavier grimaced, holding the phial at arm’s length before daring to inhale again. The scent of jasmine was synonymous with her and a mere waft of it brought memories thundering back into his mind. When they were together, she had drenched herself in jasmine oil and every inch of her skin had been imbued with the heavy, exotic aroma. Angelique had adored perfume with a passion; it had been one of her favourite indulgences. She had even talked about creating her own fragrance one day.

At the time, Xavier had found her obsession with perfume exhilarating; it had almost felt as though they were meant to be together. His work became an extension of their relationship, a heady compulsion that, like Angelique, Xavier had been almost powerless to resist. It was only later that he realised her interest was merely self-serving. What she wanted was the place in society that the perfume business brought with it. For her, bringing out her own perfume was a means of introducing herself to the world in a way that might give her the accolades she felt she deserved.

Sitting in his lab, assailed by memories, the strong, unforgettable aroma of jasmine wound around Xavier’s throat and almost choked him. This was the woman who had crucified him emotionally. If he was ‘emotionally retarded’, Angelique was the reason. She had destroyed him just after his mother had died, hurting him more than any other woman in his life had before. Xavier couldn’t bear being reminded of her. Revolted, he tossed the phial of jasmine oil into the bin.

He let out a breath. Could he do this again? Was he capable of making a new fragrance, one that would make the world sit up and take notice? It was time to turn his back on the past and embrace something new, he decided, trying to find the courage from somewhere. Finally, it felt right to let go, and this fragrance, one with not a drop of jasmine to its formula, would mark the start of a new beginning.

Xavier pulled out the notes relating to the fragrance he’d talked about in Grasse. Yes, it was just as he’d remembered it, heady, memorable and intoxicating. The perfect scent . . . conjuring the perfect woman. Xavier knew he was an ingredient or two away from absolute perfection.

The new fragrance needed to be special, it had to be dynamic enough to pull Ducasse-Fleurie into the modern age.

Xavier started to jot down words as they came to him. Classy. Romantic. Sexy. Unforgettable. Timeless. Sensual. Ideas were bubbling up and he struggled to capture them all as his mind raced ahead. Beach, rain, earthy, fresh, clean. Did he need peony, gardenia or geranium? All three? Pink honeysuckle, marigold . . . moss, musk, cedar. No, none of them was right.

Xavier suddenly believed in himself again. He felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he felt hopeful. He pulled a box of phials towards him, thinking about the scent. What was missing? What were those elusive final ingredients that would make this scent extraordinary? He would work day and night if he had to until he found them.

 

A few days later, Guy received a phone call from Max and Seraphina’s college.

‘He’s done what?’ he shouted, almost dropping his phone. ‘Right. I’ll be there as soon as possible.’

‘What’s going on?’ Leoni was at his side. She had been trying to summon up the courage to approach Guy about her home fragrance line which was more or less ready to present, but Ashton hadn’t been in touch much since Paris and she felt oddly put out and unsure.

‘It’s Max,’ Guy snapped, barely keeping himself under control. ‘He’s been expelled.’

‘Oh no! What for?’

Guy’s hands were shaking. ‘Doing drugs on college premises.’ He clutched his hair, making it stand on end. ‘What the hell was he thinking, Leoni! Doing drugs . . . I had no idea. Who would have got him into drugs, for God’s sake? Someone must have made him do it – surely Max wouldn’t be stupid enough to try cocaine without being encouraged?’

Leoni bit her lip. She remembered Olivier passing a spliff to Max once at a party and she sincerely hoped it wasn’t because of her brother’s cavalier attitude towards drugs that Max now found himself on the same slippery slope. She knew Xavier had swept many of the details of Olivier’s life under the carpet to protect their feelings – hers, in particular. He needn’t have bothered. She had done her fair share of secretly bailing Olivier out of many a dodgy situation; she was all too aware of her younger brother’s more dubious habits.

‘Shall I come with you?’ Leoni asked.

Guy shook his head. ‘I’d rather go alone, thanks.’

The drive to the school did nothing to calm Guy and he stormed to the head’s office where he found. Max lounging in a chair like the obstreperous teenager he was. His dark hair was a mess and there were shadows under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in a week and for a moment Guy faltered, alarm replacing his anger.

What could be so wrong in Max’s life that he had ended up like this? Guy wondered anxiously.

‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Max stated morosely, folding his arms in the universal gesture of defensiveness.

Guy’s rage returned. ‘Of course it wasn’t,’ he fired back with steely sarcasm. ‘It never is, is it?’

‘Monsieur Ducasse,’ said Madame Muret smoothly. ‘I think it’s important for you to know that Max has apologised for his mistake.’

Max glanced at her in surprise. He had done no such thing! He half wished he had apologised but he couldn’t exactly do anything about it now.

Madame Muret pushed a seething Guy into a chair opposite her desk. ‘I think we all need to take stock of the situation,’ she began, feeling the need to give Max a fair hearing. What he had done was unforgivable but the family had been through an awful lot recently. She wondered why Guy’s face was slowly turning pale.

‘Perhaps I have been a little hasty, talking about expulsion,’ Madame Muret added, frowning at him over her glasses. Honestly! Here she was, doing her best to put things right and all Guy Ducasse could do was stare over her shoulder like a man possessed. What was so interesting beyond her window?

Max, too, had seen something He stood up abruptly and his mouth fell open. ‘No way,’ he gasped. ‘Seraphina . . .’

‘She’s not . . . tell me she’s not doing that,’ Guy gibbered, rising out of his chair slowly.

Madame Muret whipped her head round. Her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ as she saw what they were looking at. Cantering round the front lawn on one of the college’s best chestnut mares was Seraphina. But that wasn’t what had Guy ashen and Max open mouthed.

Seraphina was completely naked, her pale skin stark against the dark flanks of the horse. Only her platinum-blond hair stopped the scene from being a centrefold shot. Her small breasts were bouncing, popping in and out of sight as she turned the horse sharply as though she was on a polo pitch.

Some senior officials were just finishing a tour of the college and were being shown back down the driveway. They stopped as one and gaped. They were soon joined by a crowd of teenagers who shouted and pointed. Madeleine was there, as well as Vero and Max’s friends. Teenagers started flooding out of the building, followed by disgruntled lecturers.

The window to Madame Muret’s room was open and Seraphina came trotting towards it.

‘If Max is being expelled then so am I!’ she yelled spiritedly.

Guy groaned and put his head in his hands.

‘Good for you!’ Max yelled back, whooping and punching the air in delight. ‘That’s family loyalty for you,’ he told his father smugly, no longer caring what happened. Max felt terribly proud of Seraphina. If their roles had been reversed, he would have done the some; neither of them could stay at the college alone.

Guy looked at Madame Muret. ‘I’m guessing you don’t think you’ve been too hasty talking about expulsion now,’ he stated flatly. He did not wait for an answer. ‘If you could please have someone pack their things and send them on, it would be appreciated. Max, follow me.’

Guy strode outside. He tore his jumper off and threw it at Seraphina.

‘Put it on,’ he hissed, ‘and get off that fucking horse right now.’

Exchanging a glance with Max, Seraphina did as she was told, wriggling into the jumper and sliding quickly off the horse. She tied it safely to a tree and they all walked past the crowd of spectators. Guy held his head high and glared at some of the officials.

‘She’s a child!’ he hurled at them hoarsely. ‘Perverts!’

‘Sorry, Dad,’ Seraphina mumbled into the collar of his jumper, inhaling the tobacco and iris smell of the Dior Homme he always wore. For a second, she was transported to her childhood.

‘What were you thinking?’ Guy stormed, not quite believing what he had just seen.

‘I couldn’t stay here without Max.’

Max flung his arm round her protectively. ‘Thank you,’ he mouthed at her.

‘Madame Muret was this close to changing her mind about the expulsion before you did that,’ Guy shouted, maddened. A tiny part of him was impressed by Seraphina’s shocking stand. It was just the sort of thing Elizabeth would have done years ago. But she wasn’t here any more and there was only him to pick up the pieces. Hardening his heart, he stalked to his car, got in and waited for them to do the same. They climbed in, silently.