Chapter 33
Thirty-three
James turned up late for brunch, arriving with a flurry of explanations and apologies that Audrey hardly heard.
Emerging from one of the most intense writing sessions of her life, she had felt both light-headed and oddly clear, and the half-hour wait in the café for James, with only a glass of sparkling water for company, hadn’t weighed on her as much as it would normally have done.
James must have been relieved as he pulled out his chair, sat down and motioned to the waiter that they were ready to order.
She wasn’t going to make a fuss, he must have thought.
She was going to act as normal. Everything would be back in its proper place, with all the unsaid things still unsaid, as they always had been between them.
And while they waited for their food, he talked about the meeting with the new client, how well it had gone, how he had clinched the deal, and Audrey listened quietly, thinking how handsome he was, how animated, how completely sure of himself and his place in the world …
But it wasn’t that he was superficial, she couldn’t pretend that.
Self-centred, yes, but certainly not superficial.
He was a very good lawyer, and so he did understand people—it was just that he chose to use that understanding in ways that would benefit himself primarily.
But maybe that was unfair, because didn’t we all do that to some extent?
The food arrived. She’d ordered eggs mayonnaise and toast, for her appetite still wasn’t back to its usual keenness, and she waved away the glass of wine James was pressing on her.
He had taken the whole brunch special and was tucking into it all with gusto as he talked on and on about how this new deal was going to mean big things for the firm, and for him too.
That was when he put down his fork. ‘There’s something else that I need to tell you, Audrey.
Something that could change everything.’
She stared at him, but before she could speak, he went on, ‘Ten days ago, I was sounded out about the possibility of going into politics, as a potential Senator, and I’ve been meeting with people over the last few days about it.
The upshot is that I want to go ahead with further discussion, so in six weeks’ time there’s going to be a more formal meeting where I’ll be presenting my case for—’
‘Wait, wait.’ Audrey held up a hand. ‘You said you were sounded out ten days ago. That was before I came to Paris. You never said anything about it to me.’
He looked uncomfortable. ‘I couldn’t, you see. It was all—confidential. You know what it’s like with those people.’
Audrey let it pass. ‘But you’ve already decided to go ahead.’
‘Yes—to discuss things. I mean, it’s not certain but …’
‘But it’s what you want to do,’ she finished for him.
‘Well, yes. It’s what I really want.’ He looked at her. ‘You don’t think it’s a good idea, or that I’m not cut out for it?’
‘I think you’d be brilliant at it,’ she said, sincerely.
He beamed. ‘Thank you. Elinor agrees as well. I’m so pleased the women in my life approve.’
He spoke to his sister before he spoke to me, Audrey thought. It stung a little but not much, because of the strange mood she was in—light-headed yet clear, with a kind of numb calm. ‘It will mean a lot of changes for you,’ she said.
‘Yes. It will.’ His eyes shone. ‘But I’m really excited about it.’ He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘Audrey, let’s set the date of our wedding right now and make it this month.’
‘This month?’ she repeated, blankly.
‘Yes. And don’t worry about arrangements.
We’ll get a wedding planner, and as to your family, we can fly everyone out, but if they can’t come then we’ll see them on our honeymoon instead.
’ He gazed into her eyes, smiling. ‘You see, Audrey darling, when I present my case to the officials, I want to be able to proudly introduce you as my wife, not just my fiancée.’
She stared at him, her stomach clenching.
Of course. It was much better for a political candidate to be married, even these days.
Sure, they could have boyfriends or girlfriends or fiancés, but a marriage certificate was a much more useful attribute.
And once they were married, then the wife or husband would also be part of that candidate’s campaign, at their side, supporting them, smiling for the cameras, discreetly showing by their very presence that the candidate was grounded, relatable, stable. James knew that. Of course he did.
‘No,’ she said, quietly.
Now it was his turn to stare. ‘What do you mean, no?’
‘No to getting married this month. No to getting married at all.’ She slipped his ring off her finger and put it on the table. ‘I’m sorry, James, but I can’t do it.’
He went white, then red, as shock gave way to anger. ‘You can’t be serious, Audrey,’ he hissed. ‘What’s come over you? I don’t understand.’
‘I’m not sure I do either,’ said Audrey. ‘All I know is that I’ve been sleepwalking for too long, and it has to stop.’
‘Sleepwalking? What the hell are you talking about, you stupid—’ He broke off as he saw the expression in her eyes. ‘Okay, so you’ve been a bit—whatever. But what does that have to do with me, or is it about the politics thing?’
‘No, it’s not the politics thing,’ she said, sadly. ‘It’s that we aren’t properly connected, you and me, and we never will be.’
‘What do you mean? I thought we were well suited.’ But even as he protested, there was an expression in his eyes that told Audrey he knew what she meant, and it wasn’t a surprise to him.
His next words confirmed that. ‘I thought that as we each had our own established place in the world then we would surely know what we wanted out of this relationship. But I guess that was just my own view of it, how I chose to see it.’
‘Yes,’ she said, through a lump in her throat.
It had been an honest thing for him to say, but also rather chilling, because of what it revealed about his priorities—not that she’d really been deceived by him about that.
He’d never pretended to put her first and she had accepted that, at least initially.
Later, the doubts had crept in, even if she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge them.
‘Maybe I also gave you the wrong impression,’ she went on, ‘about what I really wanted. And so it’s best if we part now, before this new big step in your career, in your life.
I’m sure you will do very well in it, even without a wife.
Perhaps Elinor can step in and help. She would be extremely good at it, I am sure. ’
He gave her a quick glance, as if to assure himself that she wasn’t being sarcastic or having a dig at him.
And she really wasn’t—she meant what she’d said.
Then he sighed. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’ And that very simple sentence told her all she needed to know.
He would move on. Correction, he had already moved on.
It certainly stung that it should happen so easily for him, that he hadn’t tried to fight for her, tried to make her explain more of what she meant, what she felt—but then, that was James, wasn’t it?
Unsaid things could stay unsaid, as long as it suited him.
She had been ready to explain, to confess everything that had happened, because she at least owed that to him.
But he didn’t want to hear it, that was clear.
And who was she to force anything else on him?
If she was being honest, it was a relief.
‘Are you going to be in Paris much longer?’ she asked. The ordinary words sounded odd to her ears, but he nodded and said, ‘A couple more days or so, to wrap things up with this client. He’s going to introduce me to a few other people who might be interested in what we offer.’
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘In that case, why don’t you just take over my hotel room? I’m going to leave Paris today to find a nice little place in the country to hunker down and write.’ She spoke the words in some astonishment as until that moment she had not known that was what she wanted to do.
‘That’s very decent of you,’ he said. ‘Thanks, Audrey.’
She bit her lip. So it had ended with a whimper, not a bang, and though it was a relief, it was also deflating.
Sad. And shameful, too. Because what on earth had she been doing, being with a man who could react in this bloodless way to breaking up with the woman that until today he must have assumed would marry him?
He wouldn’t torment himself about it, she knew that.
And that was good. But also a trifle horrifying.
‘I’ve got to finish up a couple of things and then I’ll pack up and go’—she looked at her watch—‘by 2.30 at the latest. I’ll tell reception that you’re staying on.’
‘Okay, I’ll leave you some space to get on with things,’ he said. ‘I’ve got that spare key card you gave me.’ A pause, then he added, ‘And let me know how you’re going—I mean, with the book and everything, won’t you?’
‘I will,’ she said, getting up. ‘And I’ll be watching for your rise in politics, and for a Senator James Fuller in due course.
’ She was about to bend down to kiss him on the cheek, but he got up and put his arms around her.
‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out between us, Audrey, but that’s life, isn’t it? I wish you only the very best, always.’
‘And I you,’ she said, close to tears as she hugged him back.
Then he released her and with a final goodbye, she walked away, not looking behind her.
The further away she went, the more the tears receded, the more her heart lightened, and the more she felt the glorious relief of being free overtaking the residual sadness and disbelief that it could all end like this, when other breakups had been more painful, most especially the one with Alex …
She couldn’t think about him. She mustn’t.
He hadn’t called her. He hadn’t messaged.
It must be over, for him. Or he must think it had to be, because she hadn’t messaged either.
She could do it now. But no. That was wrong.
She had to do as she’d told James, go back to the hotel, finish up some emails, and book herself a stay in a nice quiet village somewhere not far out of Paris where she could write in total peace and quiet.
Back at the hotel, she sat down at her laptop and searched for a place where she might go, but her mind kept skittering away, to the scene with James, to last night with Alex, and she couldn’t concentrate on finding a place, or her emails.
Giving up, she investigated the room fridge, found a bar of chocolate and ate it while packing her clothes and other belongings.
By then more than an hour had passed since she’d left James at the café and it was coming up to 2 pm.
She’d told him she would be gone by 2.30, but she still hadn’t decided where to go.
Then quite suddenly it came to her: Senlis, a picturesque small medieval town an hour north of Paris, close to the forest of Chantilly.
The family of Elisabeth Fontaine’s beloved Edmond had had a country house there, so it had a very real place in their story.
Audrey hadn’t been to Senlis before, but she had looked it up as part of her research.
Although it was ancient and charming, it wasn’t really touristy, but you could still easily get there on the train from Paris.
Yes. It would be perfect. She got on her phone, found an apartment that would be just right, and booked it.
Deed done, she picked up her bag, looked around the room to make sure she had left nothing behind, and headed down to the lobby to give her key back to the receptionist and inform them that James would be staying on.
She was just emerging from the lift and crossing the lobby to the reception desk when a taxi drew up outside.
Good. She would go and grab it to go to the Gare de Lyon.
‘Could you wait a moment?’ she said to the receptionist, and without waiting for an answer, she dashed out of the door just as the passenger was alighting.
She stood stock-still, staring, unable to believe her eyes.
How could it be him? How had he known? But the questions died on her lips as he came towards her, and all that emerged were the words, ‘Alex, you’re here … ’
‘I am,’ he said, gravely, his eyes on her face as he reached her. ‘But do you want me to be here? Tell me honestly, Audrey, and I promise I will do just what you choose, whatever it is.’
‘I don’t want you here,’ she said, and she saw the pain that came into his eyes then and cursed herself for a fool. She stepped closer to him. ‘Alex, I don’t want you here because I’m not staying here, I’m going to Senlis. Will you come with me?’
The words had rushed out of her, unthought, uncontrolled, and she saw how his face changed then, how an incredulous delight flooded into it as he took her in his arms. ‘Senlis? Why, I would very much like to go there with you.’ And then they were kissing, oblivious to the taxi driver who was watching them, grinning, and the receptionist who was peering through the glass door, looking mildly surprised but not in the least bit disapproving.