Chapter 11
11
PRESENT DAY
‘Dad, it’s Maggie.’
‘Darling! How are you? Hang on, let me get your mother.’ There was a pause, then Maggie heard her father call out, ‘Sylvie, Margaret’s on the phone.’
‘I do wish you wouldn’t call her that.’
Maggie heard her mother’s voice in the background.
‘Put her on speakerphone so I can hear her. Maggie, how are you?’
‘Hey, Mum. It’s beautiful here.’ Maggie was sitting on the roof terrace at the house, a cold glass of water in her hand. The sun was still warm and the breeze had dropped to a mere whisper.
‘How’s Allegra?’ asked her mother.
‘She’s wonderful, just as beautiful as you’d said. So glamorous,’ Maggie whispered, not wanting Allegra to hear her talking about her. ‘We went to the beach earlier. I swam in the Med!’ Maggie laughed. ‘And the Old Town where she lives is so gorgeous, I’ll send you some pictures after this.’
‘Have you had a look through the box that belonged to my mother?’ said Sylvie.
‘Just a few photographs so far. And her camera, of course. It’s like opening a box of chocolates, I don’t want to eat them all at once. Did Granny ever talk about someone called Luc?’
There was a short silence.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Maggie.
‘She only mentioned him once that I can remember. Allegra will know better than me, to be honest. You should ask her.’
‘And there’s another photograph of Allegra with her boyfriend at the time, Etienne.’
Maggie’s mother sighed. ‘I remember that name. Wasn’t he one of your grandmother’s best friends in Paris?’
‘Yes, I think so. Allegra and Etienne were obviously crazy about each other.’
‘How do you know?’
‘One of the photos in the box is of them. Granny took the picture. It’s the most amazing shot.’ Maggie reached for her book, the photo tucked carefully in the pages, and looked at it again. The kiss had such a sense of urgency about it, as if nothing else mattered in the world – for them, at least. It must have lasted just a few seconds all those years ago and yet here it was, captured in a faded image forever. She tucked it back in.
‘I’d love to know more about their time together in Paris. My mother never really talked about it. Ask Allegra and then you can fill us in when you get back,’ said her mother.
‘How’s Tiger doing?’ Maggie asked, feeling slightly guilty for having left him for so long.
‘Oh, he’s living the life of Riley,’ said her father.
‘You’re mad about him, don’t deny it, Michael,’ said her mother.
‘Well, look after yourselves and Tiger, obviously. Give him a cuddle from me and I’ll be back at the weekend to get him.’
‘When do you leave?’ asked her mother.
‘Day after tomorrow.’
‘It seems a shame not to stay a bit longer if you’re enjoying it,’ said her father.
‘I know, but it was always going to be a quick visit, with work and everything. Still, I’m so glad I came. It’s just beautiful here.’
Maggie said her farewells, promising her parents to send them a few photos from her visit and sat back on the wide cushions, watching as the sun slowly made its way down behind the hills on the other side of the bay. She couldn’t get the photograph out of her head. She took a deep breath and let out a long, heavy sigh. Divorced before hitting forty hadn’t been the plan yet here she was. And she certainly hadn’t been kissed by someone like that. Had she missed her chance?
‘Maggie, are you there?’
Allegra’s voice came up the stairs, bringing Maggie back to the present. She appeared at the doorway, dressed in a long, flowing pink kaftan painted with exotic orange birds, her silver hair pulled back into a ponytail and a chilled martini glass in each hand. She gave one of the glasses to Maggie and sat down beside her on the sofa, tucking her tanned legs beneath her. ‘Did I hear you call your parents?’
Maggie took the glass from Allegra. ‘Thanks, yes I did. They said to say hello and thank you again.’ She took a sip of the martini, the force of the spirit hitting her palate like a lightning bolt. ‘Wow, you don’t mess around,’ Maggie said, almost choking.
Allegra picked up the cocktail stick from her glass, pulling one of the olives from it with her perfect American teeth. She ate it slowly, then took a sip of hers. ‘Crisp, clear and cold, like a martini should be.’
‘My parents would love to know more about your time in Paris with my grandmother; they said she didn’t talk about it much.’
‘We’ll come to that, but I want to know more about you first. What do you do back home?’
Maggie took another sip, on second taste not nearly as shocking. ‘I work in television. I’m a producer now but I’ve done pretty much every job going over the years.’
‘Do you love it?’
‘Mostly, I do. But I needed a break, so this trip came at a really good time.’
‘Why, what’s going on?’ Allegra looked at Maggie, clearly not wanting her to escape the question.
‘It’s just been non-stop for a while and the nature of the job is fairly stressful.’
‘Did you always want to work in television?’
Maggie shook her head. ‘I started out as a lawyer but then panicked at being in an office for the rest of my working life, so I bailed. I kind of fell into television but I loved it and never left. I’m still not sure if that was a good thing or not.’ She could feel the effects of the drink working on her like a truth drug.
‘Well, that depends. I think if you do what you love, then that counts as success more than material gains ever could.’
‘Sort of, but happiness doesn’t pay the mortgage.’ Maggie laughed.
‘True, but money doesn’t buy you happiness either.’ Allegra winked at Maggie. ‘You married?’
‘Not any more. I was but we split up a few years ago. He’s with someone else now. And they’re having a baby.’ Maggie looked at her glass, resolving to never drink another martini again.
‘That sounds like that’s tough for you. I’m sorry.’ Allegra sighed.
‘Thank you,’ said Maggie, forgetting the resolution she’d just made. It felt good to have said the words out loud.
‘So, what happened?’
‘It’s a long story.’
Allegra’s reached for Maggie’s hand. ‘Darling, I’ve got all the time in the world.’
Maggie told Allegra how she’d met Jack on a production, how she’d loved him, been so sure he was the one. She told her about the years of trying to conceive, of fertility treatments and failed IVF attempts, the heartbreak and pain of those years taking its toll on their relationship. When she recalled the moment Jack had told her he was to become a father with someone else so soon after their relationship ended, fat tears rolled slowly down her cheek.
‘I am so sorry,’ said Allegra softly, still holding Maggie’s hand. ‘That’s a terrible thing to have to go through. No wonder your heart is broken.’
‘Was it that obvious?’
‘When you get to my age you can spot it quite easily. I knew you were keeping it to yourself. Much better to talk about it, I find.’
‘I blame your cocktails,’ said Maggie, laughing through her tears.
‘I’m going to fix us another.’ Allegra reached for Maggie’s empty glass then returned a few moments later, a martini in each hand. ‘This is our last, then we’ll have some food. No more than two of these, ever. Even Dorothy Parker knew that.’
* * *
The two women talked until the first stars appeared, then went down to the kitchen on the top floor to pick at the platter of charcuterie and cheese Allegra had put together. Afterwards, as they sipped mint tea back on the roof, they took out the box of photographs they had taken back up with them.
Picking up the pictures at the top, Maggie reached in to look at some they hadn’t seen. She read the scribbled writing on the back of the photo in her hand out loud. ‘“Provence, 1961”.’ Turning it over, she saw a photograph of Luc, Etienne and Allegra sitting at a long table laden with food, under the shade of a tree. Luc was smiling at the camera at the forefront of the picture and behind him, Etienne and Allegra were looking at each other.
Allegra peered closely at it. ‘That was taken at the end of harvest, at the harvest feast which was held in one of Etienne’s parents’ vineyards, not far from the house. All the families who they made wine with at the co-operative came.’
Maggie looked closely at the picture. ‘It looks like something out of a film. You obviously only have eyes for each other there.’
‘We did. But then,’ Allegra sighed, ‘everything changed when we got back to Paris.’
‘What happened?’
Allegra paused, then spoke softly. ‘I haven’t talked about this for so long.’
‘Much better to talk about it, I find.’ Maggie looked at Allegra knowingly.
‘Touché, darling.’