Chapter 26
26
Lismay
Lismay had always loved Christmas in Provence. The roaring fires, the mist over the countryside, the smell of roasting goose. And Paris, of course, was dazzling then, too – the glittering baubles overhead in Galeries Lafayette as you drifted past pastel-leather gloves, velvet berets and huge boxes of bon bons . But nowhere beat London in the run-up to the festive season. Nothing filled her heart with cheer more than looking up Regent Street at the glittering white lights, jostling amidst the shoppers muffled up in their winter coats, stopping to see the floral display outside Liberty, hearing ‘Don’t Stop the Cavalry’ blaring out of a taxi window as tipsy diners hopped into the back.
She’d booked a table for lunch at 45 Jermyn Street. Piers had gone for his final check-up with the consultant, so she’d spent a lovely morning drifting around Mayfair, wafting around the Royal Academy and picking up a few early Christmas presents in Hatchards and Fortnum & Mason. They were spoilt for restaurants in Provence but there was a glamour about this restaurant that appealed to her: a very London polish. Everyone looked as if they were here for a reason and there was an air of expectation: a handshake on a business deal or a romantic assignation moving to the next level. It was the perfect place to meet a dear old friend, because if you ran out of conversation (which they wouldn’t) you could speculate about the other diners.
He was already waiting when she got there. She remembered Jeanne telling her about the boy whose dissertation she’d typed up, how kind he was, not arrogant like so many of the Oxford boys. He’d sent her a big box of Black Magic to say thank you, even though he’d paid her handsomely. And here was Dougie, decades later, still looking impossibly boyish in his mid-seventies, jumping up as she approached the table and clasping him to her.
They ordered just one glass of wine each, for they agreed their days of a whole bottle at lunch were long gone, and toasted cheese sandwiches with truffle.
Dougie told her about Connie asking to move back in.
‘I think it’s a wonderful idea,’ said Lismay. ‘How does it feel? The thought of having your girl back in the nest?’
‘I believe it’s very modern these days, multi-generational living. And it will be lovely having her there. I must admit I’ve been thinking that the place is far too big, but I can’t bear the thought of moving. It’s not so much leaving the house behind as not knowing where to go. Nothing appeals.’ He took a bite of his sandwich. ‘I think because wherever I go, Jeanne won’t be there. If that doesn’t sound too fanciful.’
‘I think I understand.’
‘She painted all the walls. And there’s all the stuff in the garden she planted. Little bits of her everywhere I can’t take with me. It’s very mawkish, I know. And maybe I’d be OK once I took the plunge. But wherever I go, I’d have to feel as if she was happy there with me.’
Lismay reached out a hand and touched his.
‘I think that’s perfectly normal. And you’ve been there for nearly fifty years. Enjoy having Connie with you for now. She won’t be in the way. She’s not that sort of person. And you can keep an eye on her.’
‘Yes. You never stop wanting to protect your children. No matter how old they are.’
‘She is vulnerable. Though she’d kill me for saying it. The trouble with Connie is she has a huge heart and wants to help everyone and can’t say no.’
‘A people-pleaser?’
‘I don’t like that expression. It’s a bit patronising. No, she’s just … extremely nice.’
‘She needs a bit of her mum’s bolshiness. Jeanne didn’t suffer fools.’
‘She did not.’ Lismay laughed. ‘Though I love Connie as she is. I wouldn’t want her to change. And she got us out of a tight spot, I can tell you. I don’t know what we’d have done without her. Gone bust, probably.’
‘Are you looking forward to getting back?’
‘Yes and no.’ Lismay’s face clouded a little. ‘To be honest, being back here for so long this time has made me realise how much I miss London.’
‘But you live in paradise!’
‘Yes, but the chateau’s a massive responsibility and a massive commitment. I know Piers is tap-dancing his way down the street now, but we’re not getting any younger.’ She looked at Dougie. ‘We need to make plans. Take control of our future. It’s so much better to be ahead of the curve than to have change forced upon you.’
‘Oh God.’ Dougie frowned. ‘You have been thinking.’
‘Piers’s op made me realise just how bloody old we are.’
‘Speak for yourself. I’m not old. I still play tennis twice a week.’
‘We might not look it or feel it or act it, but you can’t argue with it. We need to get organised. Cover our backs. And it’s actually made me realise, I don’t know if I want another season of bed-changing and making coq au vin and being endlessly polite to people. It’s exhausting. God. Sorry. I’m splurging because I haven’t said this out loud to anyone yet.’
‘Not to Piers?’
‘No – he’s cock-a-hoop at the moment and I don’t want to bring him down. Yet.’ She looked worried. ‘I think I want to move back, Dougie. I think I want to move back to London.’
‘Oh!’
‘Being in that little flat is so liberating. It keeps itself tidy. There’s nothing to worry about – no lawns to mow, hedges to cut, swimming pools to clean. It’s bliss. I wake up in the morning and I can do what I like.’
‘You couldn’t live there full-time. It’s no bigger than a postage stamp.’
‘No, but if we sold the chateau we could get something a bit bigger.’ She clamped her hand over her mouth, then removed it. ‘There. I said it out loud. I think we should sell the chateau.’
She looked at her dear old friend across the table, waiting for his reaction.
‘Wouldn’t you miss France? Provence? The lifestyle?’
‘Not as much as I miss London. The theatres and the National Portrait Gallery and pub lunches and Wimbledon and the lights at Christmas …’
‘How long have you been feeling like this?’
She shrugged. ‘It’s crept up on me, rather. But being here during the op has convinced me I want a change. Before it’s too late.’ She leaned over and put her hand over his. ‘And I miss my London friends. I love my French friends but they didn’t make me who I am in the way you all did. And I know you can all come and stay, but it’s not the same as having you round the corner. And doing this.’ She waved a hand over their lunch plates. ‘Will you come over for Christmas, by the way? I’ve told Connie to ask the kids and I think it would be lovely, for you all to be together. Especially for her, as that cockwomble will be living it up with his fancy woman.’
‘Cockwomble?’ Dougie roared with laughter. ‘Did you actually say that?’
‘I did.’ Lismay joined in his mirth.
Dougie gave her invitation some thought.
‘I haven’t felt ready before now but I think it’s time. I’d love Christmas at the chateau. My heart will definitely be in that. Thank you.’
Afterwards they shared a whisky and walnut tart and Lismay wondered just how she was going to broach the subject of selling the chateau to Piers. The more she thought about it, the more she felt it was the right thing to do, but it was hard to predict his reaction. He was elated at the moment, revelling in his lack of pain, and had done nothing but talk about everything he was going to do when he got back to Barles, so he might take some persuading. She felt a little sick at the thought, but comforted herself with the thought of everyone coming for Christmas.
If it was to be their last, she would make it one never to forget.