A French Affair (24 page)

Jessica laughed. ‘I think that qualifies.'

Lilian spread out her arms in a luxurious stretch, then letting her head fall back she said, ‘Sometimes I worry that he only married me because Fernand wants to see him settled with a family before he goes off to the great vineyard in the sky.'

Jessica looked at her in surprise. ‘But you know that's nonsense,' she said.

Lilian shrugged. ‘Maybe.'

Jessica was still baffled. ‘If he was going to marry to suit his father surely he'd have done it with . . . Karin? Was that her name? The one he was with for fifteen years.'

‘Mmm. Except he fell out of love with her, and sometimes I wonder if it was because she didn't want children.'

‘People don't fall out of love for that reason. True, it might make them break up, but from what you've told me he didn't want them either, until he met you.'

‘Which could prove my point,' Lilian countered. ‘Fernand's getting older, time to think of the future . . .'

Jessica rolled her eyes. ‘I think you're being typically you and worrying about nothing,' she told her bluntly.

Lilian chuckled. ‘Whatever. I just hope I'm not going to continue having trouble carrying, because I'm starting to run out of time now, and I don't want him trading me in for a younger model.'

‘It's going to be fine,' Jessica told her firmly. ‘Plenty of women are having babies in their forties, and you're not even there yet. Besides, he doesn't strike me as the kind of man who'd leave you because you can't provide him with an heir.'

‘He's French,' Lilian reminded her. ‘Their machismo is very highly developed.'

Jessica had to laugh. ‘You know him better than I do, but that certainly doesn't gel with how he seems to me. He's too intelligent for one thing, and too . . .' she searched for the word. ‘Sensitive,' she decided. ‘And in tune with himself.'

Lilian was laughing too. ‘I must be sure to tell him what a big impression he's made on you,' she said. ‘It'll go straight to his head of course, but I'm sure I can stand it. Now, what do you say to driving over to Claude and Daniella's for some tennis? It's about time I beat you, and I rather think I'm feeling on form.'

HAVING STAYED UP
talking to Charlie on the phone until the early hours, Jessica was still sleeping when Lilian left for Paris in the morning, so didn't get a chance to wish her bon voyage, as she'd intended. However, what really mattered was that Luc had clearly made it back before the taxi came to take her to the train – at least, Jessica presumed he had, for she was sure Lilian would have woken her otherwise. Since there were no messages or texts on her mobile, she didn't have much trouble guessing how they'd spent the time until Lilian's departure.

After calling Harry and Nikki, she showered and dressed in a thin pair of shorts and strappy top, before carrying her breakfast and the phone out onto the patio. This morning she was going to try making appointments to speak with the
gendarmes
and paramedics who'd responded to her mother's emergency call, just in case there was anything they could tell her she might not already know.

Experiencing much more nervousness than she'd expected as she dialled the
gendarmerie
's number, she
quickly cut the connection and allowed herself a few more moments to think. She'd felt certain she was ready for this, but now she was actually poised on the brink of opening it all up again, she was finding herself even more afraid of discovering any substance to her suspicions than she'd expected.

Her call was answered on the third ring, and a moment later she found herself on hold. After an interminable wait she was informed by the same curt voice that Monsieur Galeron was
en vacances
. Frustrated, and annoyed with herself for not considering this before, since everyone knew that virtually the whole of France was
en vacances
in August, she asked when he might be back and felt slightly cheered when the answer was, ‘
Lundi prochaine
.' Next Monday.

Not too long to wait, and in the meantime she could always speak to the paramedics.

However, the senior officer who'd completed the report was also
en vacances
and not due back until the following Friday, which left her wondering, somewhat pettishly, who was actually manning the emergency services right now.

Next she tried the office of the
Médecin Légiste
, France's version of the coroner. This was the call she'd been dreading the most, since she was terrified of learning that injuries had been found on the body that were inconsistent with the fall. The mere thought of it made her want to reel away from her questions and shut down her mind entirely rather than let her imagination go there, but surely, if there had been even the slightest hint of anything suspicious, there would have been a much more thorough investigation at the time. So, heartened by the logic of that, she pushed herself on, while thanking God that Charlie had no
idea what she was doing, for it would probably send him right over the edge to know what horrible fears were lurking in her mind.

Eventually a kindly voice came down the line asking how they could help, but after Jessica had explained who she was and why she was calling, she was told that certain permissions would have to be sought before she could be allowed to see the report on her daughter's death.

Having expected as much, she swallowed her dismay and asked how to go about getting them.

‘I will do it for you,' came the reply, ‘then you must come in to sign the documentation, bringing with you some form of identity.'

‘How long is it likely to take?'

‘It is hard to say for certain, but if you call again next Tuesday or Wednesday we should have some news by then.'

After giving all the necessary details and taking the woman's name, Jessica thanked her, then clicked off the line and sat staring out at the vineyard. Felled at the first three hurdles, she was thinking glumly to herself. Except she hadn't been, it was simply that it wasn't going to happen as quickly as she might like, and actually, even if she could have the answers tomorrow they were never going to give her what she really wanted, which was Natalie back. So what was the point in feeling urgent or frustrated? No-one was saying they wouldn't speak to her, or help in any way, to the contrary, in fact, so maybe she should use this time now to try to focus on what she really wanted to discuss with the officials when the time came.

After finishing her tea, she took everything back inside, then drew a chair up to the kitchen table where
she began to write down everything she knew about what had happened on that fateful day. It didn't take long, but once it was there in black and white, from the call Natalie had made to her, to the moment Luc had given her the life-shattering news, she realised that detached as she'd managed to make herself while doing it, now it was finished she couldn't bear to sit with it a moment longer. She needed to get some air, to put some distance between herself and the images coming from those words, so gathering up her hat and purse she started off on a walk in the hope it might soothe some of the angst from her heart.

She got no further than the top road before turning back again. She wanted to know where her mother and Natalie had walked the morning of Natalie's fall. It was all there in her notes, the fact that they'd – apparently – gone out in the rain that day, and Jessica would like to follow that route now. Since only her mother could tell her which of the many paths around here they'd taken, that was who she needed to call.

Letting herself back into the cottage, she quickly dialled Charlie's mobile. As far as she could remember he was at the production office today, so provided he wasn't out shooting she should be able to get hold of him to find out if there was any news yet on her mother's whereabouts.

‘Actually, there is,' he replied, confounding her slightly. ‘I've just received confirmation that she's with Maurice, in Italy.'

Jessica's insides tightened. ‘Really?' she replied. Then added tartly, ‘I should have known. And how typical of her to go off without telling her neighbours.'

‘I don't think it happened quite like that. From what I can gather she hasn't been too well, so Maurice has
taken her to his villa for some rest and recuperation,' Charlie said.

Jessica's tension increased. ‘Why, what's wrong with her?' she demanded, wishing she didn't care.

‘I don't think anything is now, but apparently she collapsed a couple of weeks ago while she was shopping in Bond Street.'

Jessica's expression changed to one of alarm. ‘What do you mean, collapsed?'

‘I don't have any details, only that she was in hospital for a week or so . . .'

‘Are you serious? And we didn't know?'

‘Frankly, darling, considering how things are between you, you can surely understand why you weren't the first person she called.'

‘Yes, but if she's sick . . .'

‘She's fine now.'

‘How do you know? Have you spoken to her?'

‘No, but . . .'

‘We need to get hold of Maurice's number in Italy. She could be lying again, or for all I know she could be seriously ill, either way . . .'

‘Jessica, if she has been unwell, and we've no reason to suppose she hasn't, it's not going to help if you start accusing her . . .'

‘Then you speak to her. Find out exactly what happened when she collapsed and why they kept her in so long.'

‘OK, but I can't do it now, I'm about to go out. I'll get onto it this evening, or first thing tomorrow.'

After ringing off Jessica remained standing where she was, looking around the kitchen, then up to the top of the stairs. Everything was exactly as it should be, perfectly still, apart from dust motes dancing in the
hazy bands of sunlight and a spider scurrying towards a crack in the wall. She couldn't think why she might have expected anything to be different, but the longer she stood there the more unsettled she seemed to be feeling.

Not quite knowing why, she picked up the phone and called Charlie again. ‘Something's not right,' she said, when he answered.

‘What?'

‘Are you sure you're telling me everything? You're not holding anything back?'

‘Darling, I'm just about to . . .'

‘I know, you're going out. I'm sorry, but I . . .' She hesitated, not quite sure how to go on.

‘You what?' he prompted.

‘I just need to know – are you hiding anything from me?'

‘You mean about your mother?'

‘About anything. Maybe the
Médecin Légiste
told you something you don't want me to know.'

Sounding more exasperated than annoyed, Charlie said, ‘Look, this really isn't the time, but the answer is I've told you everything the
Médecin Légiste
told me.'

‘Did you actually read his report?'

‘Yes, of course. Now, I'm sorry, darling, I really have to go.'

Jessica put her mobile back on the table and stood staring blankly at the notes she'd made earlier. Then with a horrible churning inside she went to stand at the door, needing to take in the calming spectacle of nature, as though it might disperse the doubts that were gathering like clouds inside her. She needed to believe what Charlie was telling her, because without trust they really were going to fall apart. So she must
try to keep everything in perspective – just because he'd lied to her once, over an affair that had happened more than six years ago, didn't mean he was doing it again now. In fact, he couldn't be, not over this, because if he was hiding something then it would mean the French authorities must be too, and that, she realised with no little relief, really didn't make any sense at all.

‘Jessica? It is Daniella. I hope I am not interrupting.'

‘No, not at all,' Jessica assured her, closing the cover of her notepad as though not wanting anyone to see it, even though Daniella was at the other end of the phone. ‘How are you? You can speak French if you prefer.'

‘Thank you, but it is good for me to practise my English. Are you OK? Do you have everything you need in the cottage?'

‘I think so,' Jessica replied. ‘It's kind of you to ask, but I don't want to be any trouble.'

‘Ah,
mais non
, you are our welcome guest,' Daniella assured her. ‘And really I am calling to find out if you would like to join Papa and me for lunch up at the house. I am here to help him with the little bit of exercise he must do, and he is grumbling so much that we thought you might help restore his smile. But of course, if you are busy with something else, we will understand . . .'

‘No, I would love to join you,' Jessica interrupted. ‘Can I bring anything, or help in any way?'

‘No, no, we have everything under control. Lilian call me a few minutes ago, by the way. She was trying to reach you, but your line was busy. She wanted you to know that she and Luc have arrived in Paris now,
and they will be there until she leave tomorrow, if you need to be in touch with her.'

‘So Luc not only made it back, he went with her?' Jessica said, almost able to feel how much that would have pleased Lilian.

‘I think they just decide this morning when he get here,' Daniella said. ‘So you will come for lunch? We will have some terrine, and a little of Papa's delicious gazpacho. I have to say that because he can hear me, but truly it is very good.'

When Jessica arrived at the
manoir
half an hour later Daniella and Fernand were nowhere to be seen, but the table was already laid outside, and looking extremely inviting with its clear wine glasses sparkling in the sunlight, and vivid blue tablecloth arrayed with check napkins, shining cutlery and gleaming white plates. With the pergola and all its exuberant flowers around it, it was as exquisite a spectacle as she'd seen anywhere.