Chapter 44
‘I think I may be able to answer that.’ The upper-class tones cut through the silence. ‘Perhaps, if you could stay a little longer, I can explain.’
‘I don’t think—’
‘Mum?’ Sash interrupted, looking between us. ‘You always say about giving people a chance to explain.’
What a moment for my own altruism to bite me in the arse!
‘You have a wise and kind mother, Sasha.’
‘I seem to remember you didn’t think I was wise enough to be deemed a suitable partner for your son.’
In my peripheral vision, I saw Tomas’s head snap towards me.
A flutter of memory crossed her features before they settled back into their usual serene coolness. I was almost ashamed of the pathetic sense of achievement I felt, knowing I’d touched a nerve.
‘Would you mind if we both sat?’ she asked, indicating the chair opposite the sofa she was sitting on. I hesitated but, after a beat, crossed to the chair she had indicated and perched on it. I had no intention of getting comfortable.
‘Thank you.’ The smile was brief but gracious.
‘Shall we go and—’ Ashok, ever the diplomat, began but Madame Bertholle shook her head.
‘I would like you all here, if you don’t mind.’
It seemed that despite Tomas’s reassurance his mother had changed, she was still the one calling the shots and telling people what she wanted them to do. Inner Me rolled her eyes.
Isobel continued. ‘I owe Kitty not only an explanation, but also an apology.’
Inner Me fell over. Outer Me was glad she was sitting down.
‘Thank you,’ she said, once everyone took their seats again. She turned back to face me. ‘And thank you, Kitty, for allowing me this chance to speak to you.’
I swallowed and gave a brief nod.
‘If I were in your shoes, which, by the way, are beautiful…’ She cast an appraising eye over the bargain postbox-red pair of stilettos I’d got in a designer outlet back in the UK but never worn. Until I got to Paris. Until I’d regained the confidence to do so.
‘Thank you.’
She flickered a smile and I was surprised to see the insecurity there.
‘When we met before, I was unforgivably rude. Which is why, although you have been kind enough to stay and listen, I do not expect forgiveness. However, I do not wish to go to my grave—’
‘Mama!’ Tomas interceded.
Madame Bertholle waved her hand, amusement softening her features.
‘Ah, Tomas.’ She leant forward in a conspiratorial manner.
‘He does worry so.’ There was a pause as she straightened, the ramrod-straight back still in play.
I couldn’t help but admire that she’d kept her excellent posture.
‘And I know I am exceptionally lucky that he does. Lucky that either of my children even speak to me, let alone care, after how I behaved. Neither of them spoke to me for some time after that day. Did you know that?’
I glanced at Tomas but he was looking down at his hands.
‘Yes.’ My voice came out as a croak and I cleared my throat. ‘Tomas told me. I’m sorry for that.’
Madame Bertholle’s eyes widened in astonishment.
‘Kitty, darling girl.’ She shook her head.
‘Why should you be sorry? You did nothing but try to please me. You wore my daughter’s dress, despite it not being your style.
It wasn’t even Gabrielle’s style but she would also wear it just to please me.
’ She adjusted her position and a wince of pain marred her expression for a moment.
‘Are you all right?’ My question was automatic.
‘I’m fine. I’m old, that’s all.’
‘I only hope I look as good as you when I’m older.’ Sash, sitting near us both, spoke.
Madame Bertholle smiled and laid her hand, wrinkled, with a light-brown sunspot near the wrist, over the top, contrasting with Sash’s pale, youthful one.
‘That’s very kind of you, Sasha.’ She looked back to me.
‘Your daughter is a credit to you. Talented, kind and beautiful,’ she said as she turned back to Sasha.
Her hand lifted to my child’s cheek. ‘But remember, my dear, looks are not everything. It is what is in the heart that counts. Although, from the short acquaintance I have had with you tonight, and from the many stories I have heard from Benoit, I think your maman has already instilled that in you.’
I gave a small tilt of my head as Madame Bertholle focused her attention back on me. ‘I tried my best.’
‘As you did on that day. And the truth was, you were a delight.’
Inner Me had just staggered to her feet. At this, she went down again, out for the count.
For a moment, I was silent. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me and then the laughter burst out. Unexpected and taking us both a little by surprise. ‘You could have fooled me!’ I said, genuinely amused.
She returned a smile but hers was shaded with embarrassment. ‘That was rather the point, I’m afraid.’ A deep breath, followed by a sigh. ‘I was so arrogant back then. How I had any friends, I don’t know. Although perhaps I didn’t. And that was all deserved.’
‘Madame Bertholle, you really don’t have to—’
But she held up her hand. ‘I do. For you, for my children,’ she glanced at Sasha, ‘for your child, and for me.’ Her bright eyes hooked onto mine and I saw the pain in them. ‘Please.’
I nodded my acceptance.
‘I had such great plans for my children. Expectations. But what right did I have to choose what they did with their precious lives? To dictate who they loved and see off anyone I deemed “unworthy”?’
The word stung, even now.
She saw. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s fine. It was a long time ago.’ The response, even after all I had said to Tomas, was automatic.
‘And yet it still hurts. I know. And I am truly sorry. Tomas has never stopped loving you. Every day he’s lived without you was because of me.’
‘Maman, this is all irrelevant now.’ Tomas stepped forward.
‘Is it, my darling?’ She turned back to me. ‘I separated him from the love of his life and he thinks it’s irrelevant.’
‘I think what he means is that we have both lived other lives.’
‘You did. And I hope you were happy.’ She turned to Sasha. ‘I can only imagine the joy that this child brought into your life.’
‘Most days,’ I teased, giving Sasha a wink. Her jaw was tight with anxiety but at this, I saw it relax.
It’s OK, it told her. I’m OK.
‘The sleep deprivation is the worst, non?’
‘Oh, God… I was so tired, I once left part of a new pushchair I’d just bought in a car park and sparked a bomb scare.’
Madame Bertholle’s hand went to her mouth, her eyes round with surprise before crinkling with amusement.
‘Oh, merde!’
I let out a snort of laughter. Somehow, those words coming from this woman seemed so incongruous. This fierce, arrogant, unforgiveable snob… but she wasn’t. Not any more.
‘Yes, it was a bit. My husband was furious.’
From the corner of my eye, I saw Tomas shift position.
Madame Bertholle rolled her eyes. ‘Men.’ It said it all.
‘I love my children very much,’ she continued.
‘I thought, at the time, I was doing the right thing. And although men have no idea about some things, see above,’ she pointed her finger in the air as if to highlight our previous conversation, ‘sometimes, they do. My husband was very wise in many ways. He told me to let my children be who they wanted to be, do what they wanted to do and love who they wanted to love. But, of course,’ she waved a hand, the large diamond ring I remembered admiring glinting in the lamplight, ‘I knew better. Or at least, I thought I did. I took my husband for granted.’
She gave a tiny shake of her head and I noticed the tremor in her hand. Without thinking, I leant forward and rested my hand over hers. She raised her eyes, now swimming with tears, and met mine before allowing her gaze to drift to her son.
When she spoke, her voice was barely audible. ‘Oh, Tomas. What did I do?’
‘Madame, please.’ Tears now swam in my own eyes.
‘Please call me Isobel.’
‘Isobel.’ The word felt unfamiliar and not quite right on my tongue but a lot had changed this evening, including the spectre lodged in my mind of the woman in front of me.
‘We can’t regret the past,’ I said. ‘There is nothing we can do to change it now. All we can hope to do is learn from it.’
‘So wise. You would have got on so well with my husband. He would have loved you. He did, in fact. We had one of the worst rows of our marriage that day after dinner. He saw something in you that I hadn’t.
That I didn’t want to. That you made Tomas happy.
I had grand ideas about marrying my son off to the daughter of another vineyard owner.
A merging of the two empires!’ She gave a grand sweep of her arm then rolled her eyes.
‘I can see the ridiculousness of it now. The world doesn’t work like that these days and it shouldn’t.
As it turned out, that daughter is now happily married to another woman so that shows how much I knew.
Once again, my husband was wiser than I.
‘I lost two years of my children’s lives due to my arrogance.
I am lucky that they forgave me and if it hadn’t been for my husband’s secret machinations in mending that breach, it would likely have been a lot longer.
I was, of course, far too proud to apologise or even consider that I had done anything wrong.
You see,’ she swallowed hard and the tears returned to her eyes, ‘it was only when I lost my husband that I realised what I’d had.
How lucky I had been. I’d been far too arrogant to appreciate him when he was alive and once he was gone…
’ She shrugged one slim shoulder. ‘Well, then it’s far too late for all of us, isn’t it?
God knows what he ever saw in me.’ Her gaze dropped to her lap, her thoughts, I guessed, in the past.
‘I am sure you are being too hard on yourself. He was, as you said, quite wise. I think perhaps he saw the best qualities in both of us.’
‘So kind,’ she said. ‘Too kind.’ She looked up. ‘Do you still have to leave?’
Sash was looking at me. As, I now noticed, was everyone else.
Gabby stood. ‘We should have told you that Mama would be here.’
I now stood too. ‘Yes,’ I replied, catching Tomas in my glance as I too stood.
‘You should have.’ I looked down at their mother and touched her shoulder, feeling the thin, fragile bone beneath the silk blouse.
Tomas’s concern for his mother, especially with his caring, attentive nature, was entirely understandable. ‘But I appreciate why you didn’t.’
‘I’m so sorry!’ Gabby’s words bubbled out as she flung her arms around me. ‘So very sorry! I thought I was about to lose you for a second time! And this time, I’d lose my goddaughter too.’ The last word was almost entirely swallowed by a sob.
‘You do realise you’re not actually her godmother, don’t you?’ I replied, half-laughing, half-crying myself now.
‘Semantics,’ she sniffed into my shoulder.
I gently pulled her back so that I could hold her face. ‘Although, if Sash agrees, perhaps we could make that official?’
Gabby’s tears burst through again as Sasha, also now in floods, nodded vigorously and flung herself at us.
A few minutes later, when we had all recovered a little, although our make-up was beyond help and we were beyond caring, Benoit returned from a brief disappearance with several bottles of the vineyard’s best sparkling wine – champagne in everything but name.
‘I think a toast?’ he suggested, holding a bottle aloft.
‘At least one!’ Gabby agreed, her hand still clasped around her ‘new’ goddaughter’s. ‘Wait. Where’s Tomas?’
In all the commotion, none of us had noticed that he was no longer in the room.
‘He’ll be in the rose garden,’ Isobel said, her eyes finding mine.