The Woman From Paris (19 page)

She cracked an egg on the side of her bowl and dropped the
contents into the flour and sugar mixture with a gentle puff. “Neither can I. One moment I have no one, and then suddenly, I have a family.”

“Can’t you delay your return to Paris?” he suggested.

She began to stir the mixture. “It’s only across the Channel, David.”

“I know, but we’ve only just found you.”

“London isn’t home to me.”

“Fairfield can be your home. We’re your family now. Wouldn’t you like to be part of a big family?”

She stopped stirring for a moment and smiled wistfully. “I used to watch my friends with their families and wish that I had a family like them. You know, the old cliché: mother, father, a dog or two. I always felt different. Middle-class families are very conventional where I come from. I longed to be like everyone else.” She began to beat the mixture with vigor. “I’m happy now, though. I like my life.”

“Aren’t you lonely?”

“Of course not.”

David didn’t believe her. “Everyone needs a family,” he persisted.

“I’m a grown-up now.”

“It makes no difference what age you are. You’ve just learned to suppress your longing. Delay Paris and give us a chance. I think you’ll be happy you stayed.”

She grinned at him, and he knew he had won her over. “Put a little more muscle into that stirring, and I’ll think about it.” She swapped her spoon for an electric whisk, and the room grew noisy with the sound of whirring.

Once the cakes were in the oven Phaedra disappeared upstairs to her room. She closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed, staring uneasily into the half distance. She hadn’t imagined she would feel attracted to any of George’s sons. She hadn’t even listed it as a possibility. But she couldn’t deny that she had liked the look of David right from the moment she had laid eyes on him in the church. Then when he had driven up to London to persuade her to come to Fairfield Park for the weekend, she had relished the fizzy feeling he gave her in the pit of her belly and how that feeling had carried her through the week, along with the eager anticipation of seeing him
again on the Friday. Dear God, what would George say? If he was watching her now, what was he thinking?

David had been very persuasive. She did find the idea of having a family seductive. All her life she’d felt alone—a burden to her mother, dislocated from society because she was “that poor Chancellor girl,” passed around her mother’s friends for sleepovers when she wanted to go off with her suitors, or worse, dragged along on vacation when her mother had no alternative but to take her with them. Phaedra remembered those lonely summers on windy beaches, sent off to play by herself because her mother wanted time alone with her man. How she’d longed for a family then. Now she had the chance of having a big family, she’d be mad to let it go.

When she came back downstairs, the sweet aroma of cake filled the kitchen. David remained at the table, reading the Saturday papers. “They smell ready,” she said, grabbing the oven gloves and opening the Aga door. A hot blast of sponge-scented air enveloped them. She pulled the tray of lemon cupcakes out first, then bent down again to pull out the cake tins.

“The filling is perfect, I think you’ll agree,” said David, lifting the
Telegraph
to reveal his bowl.

“They have to cool before we ice them.”

“Then what shall we do in the meantime?”

Phaedra dipped her finger into the butter-and-sugar filling that David had beaten to a rich, creamy texture. “Mmmm, this is good. Do you want some?” She handed him his teaspoon.

He scooped up a dollop of mixture and put it in his mouth. “Really good,” he enthused. “So what would you like to do while the cakes cool?”

“Play cards?”

“All right.”

She began to clear the table. “I warn you, I’m a fierce opponent.”

“I witnessed your ferocity at the bridge table, remember?”

“Oh, I was just warming up.”

“Good, because I’m not a bridge player. I hold the family title for Racing Demon.”

“Only
one
family title?” she said with a laugh.

“There are many more, but I won’t bore you with my achievements. For now, let’s get the cards out, make another pot of tea . . .”

“A pot of tea: my, you
do
mean business!”

“I do indeed. Tea to an Englishman is as spinach to Popeye.”

“Then let’s see if you have as much brain as you have brawn! Deal the cards, my friend, I am ready.”

12

A
ntoinette felt better. Ever since Phaedra had arrived on Friday night, Fairfield had been infused with a buoyancy that hadn’t been there before. Since George’s death a murky miasma had lingered in all the rooms like fog, and Antoinette had constantly felt cold. But now she no longer felt the chill, and the dark mist had been relegated to the corners, banished by Phaedra’s optimistic and enthusiastic nature. She was like a beautiful angel, and Antoinette felt blessed that although George had been taken with one hand, Phaedra had been given with the other.

The girl was a miracle. She had won over Margaret. Joshua, Tom, and David were clearly bedazzled by her. She lifted the vibration whenever she entered the room and their three expectant faces turned towards her like sunflowers facing the sun. No one was immune to her charm, except Roberta, who was being unreasonable; Antoinette only wished George hadn’t kept Phaedra a secret all that time, because they could have enjoyed her together.

Even Dr. Heyworth had found her delightful. He had taken great trouble to make them tea. He had put biscuits and some fruitcake a grateful patient had given him on the table, along with napkins. He might not have been so amused to see Antoinette in his garden again had it not been for Phaedra. Antoinette didn’t imagine there was a man alive who wouldn’t leap for joy at the sight of her. They had remained chatting, and time had seemed unimportant. Dr. Heyworth was certainly in no hurry for them to be gone, persuading them to stay longer with fresh cups of tea and more slices of cake. It was a very good cake, and Antoinette had found it hard to resist. She had never been slim, but not for want of trying. Dr. Heyworth’s
enthusiasm had been infectious, and she had foolishly allowed him to cut her a second slice. She’d regret it, even though she no longer had a man to slim down for.

George had always liked her the way she was. She had been “comely” when they met, and he had never asked her to change. That’s not to say he didn’t have an eye for the ladies. He loved beautiful women and flirted with all the attractive females he came into contact with. But Antoinette had been secure in the knowledge that he loved her the most. A little flirting gave him pleasure, and what pleased him pleased her. It pleased him that she gave him three sons, and it pleased him that she dedicated her time to their upbringing. When they grew into men and flew the nest, it pleased him that she dedicated her time to him and their home so that he always had a charming wife on his arm and a warm welcome to come back to.

Antoinette knew he wouldn’t have been happy sitting around at home, he was far too restless and eager for experience, and she had accepted that life without question. She was so used to it, she hadn’t been aware that there were questions to be raised until Phaedra had told her it was time to think of herself. She hadn’t considered herself in so long, she wasn’t sure what she really thought about anything. But the possibility of doing something entirely selfish gave her a little frisson of excitement. A sense of doing something very wicked, like skipping class at school, or stealing a packet of sweets in the sweet shop. Phaedra had inspired her to be positive about the future. More than anything, being positive gave her a welcome sense of control.

*   *   *

“Tom and I are going to Murenburg next week,” David announced to his family at Sunday lunch. “Just for a few days. I need to see where Dad died, you know, in order to move on.”

Margaret looked at him wearily. “Do you really want to perpetuate the tragedy?”

“The trouble is, Grandma, if I don’t go, there’ll be no end to it,” he explained, looking anguished.

“I agree with Margaret,” said Antoinette in a quiet voice. “Wouldn’t it be better if we all let him go?”

Margaret straightened in surprise. “Well, I think that’s a first, you and me agreeing on something, Antoinette.” She gave a small smile. The room fell quiet. She raised her voice. “Antoinette and I are in agreement that we should all move on now and let George rest in peace.” Antoinette almost strained the muscles in her face as she struggled to hold back her tears. The thought of letting George go was dreadful.

“It’s the only way I’ll find peace,” David persisted. Then his gaze fell upon Phaedra. “As you’re our sister, would you like to come as well?”

Phaedra looked embarrassed. “Me? Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?” David asked. “You have as much right as the rest of us. He was your father, too.”

She lowered her eyes. “If you’re certain I wouldn’t be intrusive, I’d really like to come.”

“I can’t imagine how you’d be intrusive, Phaedra,” Margaret cut in, as Harris returned with her glass of sherry. “The boys will be jolly lucky to have you. Though I don’t think much of their plan.”

“Then that’s settled,” said Tom happily, holding his wineglass out to Harris for a refill. “Josh, are you in? Roberta?” It was clear from his tone of voice that he very much hoped they would decline. Antoinette very much hoped Harris wouldn’t top up his glass.

“I’ve got a lot on next week,” Joshua replied. “I couldn’t possibly drop everything, and Roberta’s the same, aren’t you, darling?”

“Yes, my diary is very full, I’m afraid,” Roberta confirmed. “People book one months in advance.”

“Then that’s settled. I wonder what the snow conditions are. Shall I check on the Internet? Wouldn’t it be great if it’s just dumped a whole heap of snow?” Tom pulled his iPhone out of his breast pocket.

“After lunch, Tom,” said Antoinette, noticing Harris nodding in the doorway. “Let’s go through.”

Tom jumped to his feet, still holding his replenished glass of wine. “What’s for lunch?”

“Leg of lamb,” Harris replied solemnly.

“Great, my favorite. I hope Mrs. Gunice has made enough Yorkshire puddings. I’m as hungry as a horse.” And he was the first to make his way across the hall to the dining room.

Lunch was a surprisingly jolly affair. Margaret had recovered from her turn the day before and seemed enlivened by her morning with Phaedra. Her cheeks were flushed with sherry and the pleasure of listening to Phaedra’s funny imitations of her schoolteachers. The girl certainly knew how to turn unpleasant situations into entertaining anecdotes. This inspired the boys to recount their own schooldays, recalling tutors with halitosis, and nights stealing into the grub cupboard. Even Roberta joined in and laughed at their stories. In that rare moment of family harmony Antoinette truly believed that everything would be all right.

After lunch Antoinette asked Phaedra to accompany her up to George’s bedroom. “I haven’t had the courage to go in, until now. I think I’ll cope better going through all his things if we do it together,” she explained.

Phaedra immediately felt nervous. “You don’t think it’s something you should do by yourself, or with your boys? I mean, you need time to remember him without having to worry about someone else.”

“No, I want you to be there. I need the moral support.”

Phaedra smiled weakly. “Well, if you insist.”

Antoinette looked at her with motherly affection. “I know you’re a little afraid, too. It’s okay. We’ll do it together.” Phaedra took a deep breath and followed her up the stairs. “George kept everything. He never liked to chuck anything away. I’m a real chucker. I hate mess and accumulated nonsense. But George has drawers of sentimental things he’s kept over the years. I simply can’t go through it all on my own. Half of me wants to take a great big bin liner and throw it all away so I don’t have to look at it, but the other half worries that I might miss something important. The truth is, I can’t really believe he’s not coming back. Going through his things is so final, like accepting he’s gone. I don’t feel ready to do that.”

“Then leave it, Antoinette, until you feel stronger.”

“No, I have to do it now. George isn’t coming back. I have to accept that; otherwise, I’ll be stuck in a horrible sort of limbo.”

They stood a moment outside his dressing room door, fighting the sudden sense of loss that no amount of humor or stoicism could hold off. Antoinette inhaled through her nose as if mustering courage, then she lifted the latch and pushed it open. Inside it smelled manly: a little spicy, like sandalwood, yet uniquely George. The very air vibrated with his presence as if he were there with them, filling the space around him with his powerful charisma. And yet the room was empty but for his clothes, tossed carelessly onto the big double bed, over chairs, and on the divan beneath one window. Silver dishes were placed haphazardly on the table at the end of the bed and on the tall cherrywood chest of drawers in front of the other window, full of loose change and paper clips, nails, stubs from boarding cards, and other useless things that were once part of something important. The little drawers under the Queen Anne mirror were brimming with old tickets from the opera, ballet, cinema, theater and even the London Underground.

There was also a musty smell, for no one had been in to clean since George died, and the old house accumulated a great deal of dust. Phaedra walked over to the window that looked out onto the front lawn and was startled to find clusters of ladybugs basking in the sunshine in the corner against the glass.

“I think I should set these small creatures free, don’t you?” she asked, lifting the stiff leaden latch to open it. She noticed that her hands were shaking. She flicked the ladybugs out with her fingers and allowed the fresh air to rush into the room. The light, tinkling sound of birdsong was carried on the breeze, and Phaedra breathed it in, restored a little by the beauty of the sun-drenched gardens. “Come, Antoinette. Have a look out of here,” she said. Antoinette joined her at the window. “It’s so lovely I just want to stay here a moment and enjoy it.”