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Excerpt from A Very French Affair
A Very French Affair
Chapter 1 Grasse, France 2012
Lucille Boudin stood transfixed in front of the Cheval mirror. Holding her arms away from her tall slim body, she turned very slowly, studying her reflection as she did so. The dress was exquisite. Lucille knew it was made from twenty metres of the finest silk imported from southern India and speckled throughout with tiny flecks of pure silver. As she turned, the silver atoms shimmered as they caught the light, causing the dress to sparkle with an almost ethereal shine. Maman had, of course, been right.
When Lucille accepted Pierre Lacroix’s proposal of marriage, her life changed dramatically. The son of one of the wealthiest landowners around, Pierre figured high in the social elite of Nice and its environs. Lucille’s mother, Michelle, was determined her daughter’s wedding was going to do justice to the family’s honour and slaved over the hundreds of necessary preparations during the previous six months.
At first, Lucille and Pierre wanted nothing more than a moderate affair. They were perfectly happy with a wedding breakfast catering for the immediate family, some favourite relatives, and their friends. But once maman learned of their frugal plans, she lifted her shoulders with an enormous Gallic shrug, pooh-poohed the idea, and took matters into her own hands. Neither was a simple off-the-peg wedding dress from Galeries Lafayette on the cards. Her daughter was going to have an exclusive model made from Alain Bonet in Place Rossetti. The Boudin family was well known in France, and Michelle wanted the very best for her only daughter.
Completing the turn, Lucille clapped her hands together with delight and let out an almost childish squeal of pleasure. “Maman, it’s beautiful. Pierre will scarcely recognise me!”
Michelle stood back and studied the dress with a critical look. She glanced over to Monsieur Bonet’s seamstress. “I believe the darts in the back could be taken in a little. My daughter has lost weight since her initial fitting.”
“Of course, Madame. It will be a simple task, and we will have it finished and delivered to you tomorrow.” She smiled at the girl posing before the mirror. “Your daughter is right. The dress does look beautiful on her. Her figure is perfect for the simplicity of the lines.”
Lucille flashed the older woman a smile. She knew she wasn’t beautiful in the classical sense but Pierre loved her as she was. He adored her long legs and trim taut bottom. He spent hours gazing into her limpid brown eyes after they had spent a torrid hour or two making love. He liked nothing more than to breathe in the soft scents of her dark, silky hair, stroking the delicate flesh along the underside of her arms and laying with her head upon his chest. Lucille closed her eyes and gave a tiny shiver of excitement. She would see him later that day and they would slip away somewhere quiet. Perhaps they would drive out into the country or spend a quiet evening in his apartment, preparing and sharing a simple meal. She couldn’t wait to be married. Just one more week and she would be Madame Lacroix herself.
After seeing the seamstress out from the Boudin residence, Madame Boudin returned upstairs to Lucille’s bedroom. Before she approached Lucille, she looked around the room. The walls were covered with dozens of sketches and paintings, all created by the young woman. Madame Boudin noted a new watercolour near the dressing table. It was a simple scene: a stone village in the hills, with fields of purple all around. The vivid colour represented the many acres of lavender grown for the perfume industry. But there was something beautiful in the simplicity of the sketch; in fact, the sketch was reminiscent of Lucille herself. Many old families had such talent running through their veins, but Lucille’s didn’t come from Madame Boudin or her father.
Lucille stood by the window, gazing at the garden below. Turning when she heard her mother’s footsteps, she gave a sigh. “I do wish papa could have been here for my wedding day, maman. Not ever knowing my father is the one disappointment in my life.”
Michelle stared at her daughter. It was true Lucille was a gifted artist, and perhaps it was time she learnt where her flair came from. She was just twenty-one, and Michelle considered she had finally come of age. Lucille had matured over the last few years, but Michelle promised herself she wouldn’t disclose the truth of Lucille’s birth until she reached adulthood. Michelle had no idea how she would take it. Lucille was normally of even temper—a little tempestuous at times—but a loving and caring person. One thing was certain: Michelle’s revelations were certainly going to be a shock to the girl.
“Is it all right if I get ready to go out now, maman? Pierre is picking me up in under an hour.”
Michelle sat down on the double bed and patted a space by her side. “You may in a little while, chérie. We need to speak first.”
Puzzled, Lucille walked over to the bed and sat down next to her mother. She had no idea what she wanted with her. She held back an amused smile. It was a bit late if she was going to give her a lesson in bedroom behaviour! She and Pierre had been making love from the first time they had been alone together. “Have I done anything wrong?”
It was Michelle’s turn to smile. “No, my dear, you’ve done nothing wrong at all. I have to tell you a story. You may find it shocking, and you’ll most probably be upset at first. But always remember you are truly loved. The story started about a year before you were born…”
Chapter 2 Guildford, England, 1989
Jane woke with a start. A feeling of apprehension ran through her as she rolled over and glanced at her bedside clock. Three thirty, the dead hour…please, not again! This was the third time in just over a week she had woken up early and then spent the remaining early hours of the morning tossing and turning. She thumped her pillow and lay back down. What was causing this sense of foreboding?
She heard a car change gear as it slowed down on the road outside, and the beam from its headlights travelled briefly across her bedroom wall. Someone either started work early or was returning from a late date. Jane snuggled back down under the duvet. The departing headlights got her thinking. Her fiancé, David, was due back from his trip to New York that day. They had spoken to each other on the telephone while he was away. It was a nuisance, but for some reason he hadn’t been able to ring her every day and she had missed their twice-daily conversations during his absence. But that night, they would be together again. Jane could hardly wait.
Jane hadn’t missed David as much as on the previous occasions he had gone abroad. She had plenty on her mind concerning her job. It wasn’t the first time she needed a change. There was plenty to do, and as a member of the head office staff, there was always a variety of work. But Jane had seen and done it all before. After four years, she was becoming restless and thought it was about time for something more challenging…but what? There were a few vacancies within the company, but most were located further north. The weather was bad enough in the south of England; Yorkshire or Manchester would be far wetter and colder. Besides, if she found another position and moved, what about David? She didn’t relish the thought of commuting every weekend, and she was positive he would feel the same if the matter arose.
Getting married wasn’t going to solve her problem either, because she knew David expected her to carry on working if and when she became pregnant. That in itself was an ‘iffy’ problem too. For some time now, she knew David wasn’t happy about becoming a father, let alone raising a family of two or three children.
Another option was to change companies altogether, which might have been the best solution. As much as she liked her workmates, her boss—the owner of the company—had developed an interest in her. Oliver Blackwell was the perfect gentleman, but she knew the signs: he was sexually attracted to her. Because Jane was engaged and loved her fiancé, there was no way she could have become involved and risked everything. It really was time to move on and put any temptation out of sight and mind. But what on earth would she do? Working for a sailing-holiday company was certainly different, and the holiday perks were fantastic. She didn’t relish the idea of going back into interior design which had been her first job after leaving school. Jane had her City and Guilds diploma in interior design, but she needed a new direction now and yearned from some open space. She yawned and rolled over onto her other side. Perhaps sleep would come to her if she relaxed more.
Her thoughts turned back to having a baby. She was past thirty and her biological clock was ticking. She knew the risks of becoming pregnant later in life and recognised that now was a good time; but could she convince David? She didn’t want to appear desperate, but David had been unfair in not admitting sooner that children were not going to feature in his world. Jane was shocked when he first told her. He said having a child would make him feel his own life had come to an end. Was that the right way to enter into a marriage, which should be based on love and understanding? Her mind drifted away, and she dreamed of weddings and babies, champagne and honeymoons, moonlit tropical beaches and…
*****
Jane stood back and admired her home. Knowing that David appreciated a tidy house, she had risen early, despite her broken night, and cleaned her flat from top to bottom. She guessed he would be suffering from jet lag and decided to cook for him instead of suggesting they ate in a favourite restaurant. Her home town of Guildford had dozens of good places to choose from, but none would be as intimate or inviting as what she had to offer. She laughed to herself over the euphemism ‘of what she had to offer’. After spending a small fortune on skimpy, lacy underwear Jane couldn’t wait to see David’s face when she slipped out of her dress later that evening. Her fiancé wasn’t the most fervent of lovers, but she reckoned the sight of her standing in the bedroom doorway wearing nothing but a scrap of underwear and ridiculously high heels would knock him for six. David had been away for a long week, and Jane was looking forward to a full night of passionate love and lust. To hell with the jet lag too; she would make sure she took the initiative!
She smiled as she thought about her fiancé. David was fussy and inclined to be old-fashioned, but that was okay. She knew how to make him happy. He liked simple food, a good fillet steak with mushrooms on the side. Vegetables steamed al dente, sautéed potatoes and no sweet. He abhorred sweet things, much preferring savouries and never let her forget it. Jane enjoyed most food and would eat almost anything, but she usually cooked to suit David’s taste.
The table was laid just so. Shiny cutlery, polished cut glass, and a neat little flower display in the centre. Two white church candles were glowing at either end, and Jane had already placed the chilled champagne welcoming David home in an ice bucket by his place setting. All she needed now was for him to ring her door bell and announce his arrival.
She felt excited and did a joyous little skip back towards the kitchen as she remembered to turn the vegetables off. If they were soft, then the meal would have been ruined. She mentally ran through her arrangements and decided everything was fine. The food was delicious, the flat looked inviting, including the new bed linen; she smelt divine, and she knew she was looking her best.
She ran her hands down over her dress, smoothing away any wrinkles. Not only had she bought disgustingly sexy underwear, she had splashed out on a new dress too. Jane was long-legged and of slim athletic build. David had remarked on more than one occasion that she could be mistaken for a sprinter or high jumper, and Jane did enjoy her sailing and skiing. Tonight, instead of her customary jeans and sweater, her new outfit seemed to be moulded to her body, hugging the curves and lines of her trim but muscular legs, hips, and breasts. She raised a hand to her head flicking her fringe away from her face. Her hair was the colour of blue-black ravens’ wings, and for once instead of wearing it cascading over her shoulders, she had twisted the silky spill into a loop held in place by dainty tortoiseshell combs. Her eyes were large and heavy-lidded: sleepy eyes, the colour of the black-flecked deep brown of pecan shells. She wasn’t stunningly beautiful, but she knew she was pretty and made the best of her looks.
Jane glanced at her watch and noted that, for once, David was running late. She walked over to the window and twitched back the curtain. There was a fine rain falling which was haloed in the street lamp outside her house. She studied the drizzle as it slid down the oily glass. She could see no sign of David’s familiar Hyundai estate.
It was funny, but she hated that car, despite it being David’s pride and joy. What was it she had seen written about it somewhere? Oh yes. ‘Talk about the Hyundai Estate in a pub, and it would have the same effect as putting a sleeping pill in everyone's drinks.’ She had never repeated this to David, as it would have upset him, but she agreed with the sentiment; it was a boring car, and she often wondered why a single man his age hadn’t splashed out on something with more ‘pizzazz’ to it. A sports car would have been fun, especially in the summer with the hood down.
Just as she was about to leave the window, a sleek-looking car appeared round the corner and stopped a few yards further down the road. She peered eagerly into the gloom and was disappointed it wasn’t David’s vehicle. She let the curtain fall back into place and retreated further into the room. Glancing at her watch again, she saw he was now overdue by more than thirty minutes. She started to worry. This was so unlike him. What if he been involved in an accident? She shivered and walked through to the warm kitchen. There was an opened bottle of red wine on the worktop, and she decided to have a drink while she waited. She could call him, but knowing he might get irritated, she thought otherwise. He was bound to arrive any minute, so she ought to stop fretting. But she still couldn’t shake off the uneasiness she had been feeling all week.
When the knock came, she was so pent up, she almost let out a cry of fright. At last, David was here! Recovering her composure and with relief flooding through her, she hurried to answer the door. She threw back the solid oak door and without waiting for him to speak, threw herself into his arms. “David! I’m so pleased you’re here. I didn’t hear your car arrive. I’ve been worried, as you’re late.”
With her head leaning on his shoulder, she vaguely noticed the strange car from earlier disappearing down the road, its rear lights illuminating red pools in the street puddles.
David gently unwound her arms from around his waist, smiled, and stepped inside the small hallway. “Am I? I didn’t realise. Sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re here now, safe and sound. I thought you might have had an accident.”
“For heaven’s sake, stop fussing. A man can be a few minutes late, can’t he?” he replied, looking at his wrist watch.
Jane bit her lip at his terse answer. Whatever could be the matter? She decided he was more jet-lagged than she supposed. She would play the perfect fiancée and spend the evening spoiling him. Poor darling, his face looked taut, strained even, and his fine medium-brown hair was flecked with raindrops which dripped down onto his shirt collar.
She moved closer and putting her arms around his neck, kissed him. For a few seconds his cold lips didn’t respond, and then she felt him relax into her embrace and return her kiss.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered huskily as she drew back to gaze into his eyes. “A week is a long time to be away from each other. Come in and dry off. We’ll have a drink before we have dinner. I thought you might like to eat in tonight. You must be very tired, and it’s a foul night to go out anyway. I’ve bought some steak that looks fantastic. Fillet…I know you prefer it. I’ve even bought a bottle of champagne to start the evening, as it’s a special one.” She gave him another kiss and then moved towards the dining table. “Would you like to do the honours and open it?”
“Champagne? Honestly, Jane, I don’t think you can afford it. And what do you mean by special evening? It’s not your birthday or mine.”
Jane felt stung by his unenthusiastic reply but put it down to his overall tiredness. She laughed softly. “Silly. It’s always special when you’re here. I meant that tonight is extra special because you’ve been away, and now you’re home. Sit down. I’ll open the bottle while you rest.”
She took the bottle from the ice bucket and deftly withdrew the cork. There was a distinct ‘pop’ and a rush of glistening bubbles shot down her hand. “Oops! Clumsy me.” She grabbed a glass before more wine escaped onto the floor. “I can afford the occasional bottle of champers by the way. Here.” She passed it over to him. “What shall we drink to? I think it should be to us, don’t you agree?”
David didn’t respond. Instead he gave a thin smile, opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it. Eventually he raised his glass and said, “It’s a lousy night out there. How about we toast for better weather to come?”
Jane gave a blink of surprise at his words. Thinking he must be feeling very wretched after travelling back from New York, she too raised her glass and echoed his words. “Here’s to better weather.”
They drank for a moment or two in silence.
“I also treated myself to this new dress. What do you think? Does it suit me?”
David took his time answering. “I do. The colour suits you. I should imagine not everyone could get away wearing anything so bold. Yes, it’s very nice, but it looks expensive. Champagne and a new dress, have you come into some money?”
Jane gave a happy laugh. “No, worse luck.” She stood up and gave him a twirl. “I saw it in a new boutique in the high street. It was in the window, and I fell in love with it immediately. I’ve always loved red.”
“Mmm. As I said, it suits you.”
Jane pondered over words; he was acting peculiarly tonight. He had just said the dress was nice but nothing more personal than that. No declaration such as, ‘You look incredibly sexy, and I can’t wait to undress you.’
She sighed. David was never going to change. He just wasn’t that interested in sex. Perhaps it’s me, she thought with a sudden feeling of panic. Jane had been to bed with only two other men, and neither had fulfilled her. The sex had been quite nice but nothing that really got her blood racing. Surely, she wasn’t one of those frigid women? Pushing her thoughts to one side, she made a gesture towards the kitchen. “Are you ready to eat? It won’t take me long to cook the steaks.”
“Actually, I’m not hungry. Perhaps we can wait a while. Maybe I’ll feel more like it later.”
“Of course we can, I don’t mind at all.” Privately, Jane was surprised. In all the months they had been seeing each other, David had never been off his food. She even once joked that he much preferred food to sex, as his appetite appeared greater when studying a menu. “So tell me, how was your flight back today? On the news earlier it said some flights were delayed due to bad weather. Did you get any free time to have a look round? One day you must take me with you…I’m dying to visit again.”
David shifted his position in his chair before replying. “Um…not bad. Actually I came back a day early, yesterday.”
“Yesterday! Why on earth didn’t you let me know? You said nothing when we last spoke. We could have got together earlier.”
He took a large gulp of wine, shrugged, and then set the glass down on the arm of his chair. “I was tired and had a lot to sort out. “
Jane stared at him. He was acting so out of character, she wondered if he was ill. “I see. Well you’re here now, so let’s forget it and enjoy our evening.”
“We had some long, tough sessions with our clients, Fleischmann, but I think we managed to get everything straightened out.”
“I’m sure you did. You’re brilliant at negotiating deals. It’s about time Neil made you a director. Who was your counterpart? Max Fleischmann?”
David sat forward in his armchair and fiddled with the stem of his glass for a second before replying. “No. He stood down this time.”
“Oh? Why was that?”
“He’s handling the new part of his corporation. He’s moving more into the Australian end of things.”
“I see. Wow! That must be exciting for him, despite all his years at the top in New York. A new enterprise must be really challenging.”
“Exactly so.”
“So who’s taken over from him, his vice president?”
“More or less.” David took a sip of wine and then placed the glass on the coffee table standing before him. “His daughter.”
Jane was surprised and made a little ‘oh’ with her mouth. “I had no idea he was old enough to have a grown-up daughter. I always imagined he was about your age. How old is he then?”
“Max is mid to late fifties.”
“I see. And his daughter? What’s her name? I don’t believe you’ve ever mentioned her before.”
David picked up his wine glass, drained it, and stood up. “Any chance of a refill? No, sit still, I’ll help myself.” He walked over to the table and took the bottle from the cooler. “What about you? Are you ready for another?” Jane held out her glass, and David poured the wine before sitting back down.
“You were going to tell me about Max’s daughter. Has she been working with the family company for long? What did you say her name was?”
David studied the glass resting on his knee. He took one second too long before replying and in that instant Jane knew. She felt her heart contract. Her face paled, and she broke out into a cold sweat.
“Dana.”
Chapter 3
Jane felt so very cold. It was as if a thousand ghosts were walking over her grave. She shivered. David’s voice came and went as she fought down a feeling of panic. She blinked and looked over to where he was sitting.
“Dana. Has she, have you been working with her this last week?”
David nodded. “Max handed the account over to her, and she’s handling everything now. As a matter of fact she took over two months ago, but he’s now made it official. There was quite a party when she was made CEO of that part of the company this week. Max knows how to throw money around when he wants to make a mark.”
Two months ago. David was in New York two months ago. And he was there in between then and last week. Jane mentally counted the number of times David had visited over the last few months. Four…no, he had flown there five times in three months.
“So are you going back to New York in the near future? Or has it all been settled?” Jane asked in a quiet voice.
“Yes.” He paused. “It’s something I need to talk to you about.”
As if I didn’t already know, Jane thought. She pushed aside a feeling of nausea. “Oh? What’s that then?” Stay calm!
“I’ve been offered a position with them. They want me to go and head up a new division.”
She could feel a tremor beginning in her cheek.
“They? Who will you be working for? Do you mean Dana Fleischmann?” Jane whispered, fearful that her normal voice would waver.
David looked uncomfortable and stood up. “I’m sorry, Jane. But it’s such a splendid opportunity, and the salary is huge. I’ll never get another chance like this again.”
“And me? What about me? Do I figure in your grand scheme of things? Do you plan on taking me back with you?” Jane sprang up from her seat, splashes of heightened colour in her ashen cheeks. She couldn’t stay sitting down while David was pacing the floor.
He eventually stopped and looked at Jane. She saw he had the grace to colour. She didn’t know what to do or say, her mind was frozen. Jane turned away from David with her arms folded. She couldn’t believe what he had just told her. Moving to New York was so out of character for him. David was a fuddy-duddy—old-fashioned, pernickety, and far older than his years in outlook. She had once suggested they move abroad to work, but he had laughed at her suggestion, saying it would never work and he hated the idea of working for ‘foreigners’. This was all so ridiculous!
She walked into the kitchen and for want of something to do with her hands removed the steak from the fridge. She was mortified to find her hands were trembling. He hadn’t answered her question.
Placing the meat down on the worktop, she whirled round to confront him. “You haven’t answered my question.”
David moved towards the kitchen, his hands outstretched towards her. “I’m sorry, Jane. It’s just not possible at the moment.”
“What do you mean? Not possible at the moment?” she shouted, fearing she was in danger of becoming hysterical if he said anything else stupid. “When the bloody hell will it be possible then?”
“I…I…I don’t know. It would be difficult, that’s all.” He looked away as if he couldn’t meet her eyes. “I think what I’m saying is that it’s best if we call it a day. Now, before one of us says something we’ll regret later.”
“You bloody wimp! You just can’t say it, can you? You’ve met someone else. Why all this pretence? Who is she? Or let me guess. Dana Fleischmann. No wonder you didn’t push Neil for a directorship, you were planning on leaving him anyway.”
A silence fell between them as David dropped his hands and looked down at the ground. He nodded.
“I never meant this to happen, honestly.”
“How long? How long have you been seeing her?”
“Since Christmas. We hit it off, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. This last time—” David broke off and turned away with a hand to his mouth.
“What about this last time?”
This time David did look her directly in the eye. “Dana is pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.”
Jane felt her world tilt and everything went out of focus. A baby! Oh no, not a baby. This was the final straw. Perhaps she could condone a one-night stand, but a full-blown affair resulting in a baby? When David knew she was dying to be a mother herself. How could he? Oh David, not a baby.
She gasped as she suddenly guessed how he had arrived at her flat this evening. She marched through her sitting room over to the window and flung the curtain aside. Sure enough there was the strange car parked beneath the lamp. The lights were on, and she could see a figure sitting in the driver’s seat. Jane spun round with an accusing look on her face.
“That’s her out there, isn’t it? How could you! You creep! Not content to cheat and lie, you rub my nose in your sleazy affair. Get out. Get out, and take this piece of rubbish with you.”
She tugged at the sapphire ring on her finger. “No doubt with your tight little mind you’ll be able to sell it.” She threw the ring at him. David winced but remained where he stood.
“Jane—” he began.
“I said get out!” Jane whirled round and grabbed the ice bucket. Removing the champagne bottle she chucked the contents and bucket at him. “I never want to see your rotten face again.”
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Chapter 1 Grasse, France 2012
Lucille Boudin stood transfixed in front of the Cheval mirror. Holding her arms away from her tall slim body, she turned very slowly, studying her reflection as she did so. The dress was exquisite. Lucille knew it was made from twenty metres of the finest silk imported from southern India and speckled throughout with tiny flecks of pure silver. As she turned, the silver atoms shimmered as they caught the light, causing the dress to sparkle with an almost ethereal shine. Maman had, of course, been right.
When Lucille accepted Pierre Lacroix’s proposal of marriage, her life changed dramatically. The son of one of the wealthiest landowners around, Pierre figured high in the social elite of Nice and its environs. Lucille’s mother, Michelle, was determined her daughter’s wedding was going to do justice to the family’s honour and slaved over the hundreds of necessary preparations during the previous six months.
At first, Lucille and Pierre wanted nothing more than a moderate affair. They were perfectly happy with a wedding breakfast catering for the immediate family, some favourite relatives, and their friends. But once maman learned of their frugal plans, she lifted her shoulders with an enormous Gallic shrug, pooh-poohed the idea, and took matters into her own hands. Neither was a simple off-the-peg wedding dress from Galeries Lafayette on the cards. Her daughter was going to have an exclusive model made from Alain Bonet in Place Rossetti. The Boudin family was well known in France, and Michelle wanted the very best for her only daughter.
Completing the turn, Lucille clapped her hands together with delight and let out an almost childish squeal of pleasure. “Maman, it’s beautiful. Pierre will scarcely recognise me!”
Michelle stood back and studied the dress with a critical look. She glanced over to Monsieur Bonet’s seamstress. “I believe the darts in the back could be taken in a little. My daughter has lost weight since her initial fitting.”
“Of course, Madame. It will be a simple task, and we will have it finished and delivered to you tomorrow.” She smiled at the girl posing before the mirror. “Your daughter is right. The dress does look beautiful on her. Her figure is perfect for the simplicity of the lines.”
Lucille flashed the older woman a smile. She knew she wasn’t beautiful in the classical sense but Pierre loved her as she was. He adored her long legs and trim taut bottom. He spent hours gazing into her limpid brown eyes after they had spent a torrid hour or two making love. He liked nothing more than to breathe in the soft scents of her dark, silky hair, stroking the delicate flesh along the underside of her arms and laying with her head upon his chest. Lucille closed her eyes and gave a tiny shiver of excitement. She would see him later that day and they would slip away somewhere quiet. Perhaps they would drive out into the country or spend a quiet evening in his apartment, preparing and sharing a simple meal. She couldn’t wait to be married. Just one more week and she would be Madame Lacroix herself.
After seeing the seamstress out from the Boudin residence, Madame Boudin returned upstairs to Lucille’s bedroom. Before she approached Lucille, she looked around the room. The walls were covered with dozens of sketches and paintings, all created by the young woman. Madame Boudin noted a new watercolour near the dressing table. It was a simple scene: a stone village in the hills, with fields of purple all around. The vivid colour represented the many acres of lavender grown for the perfume industry. But there was something beautiful in the simplicity of the sketch; in fact, the sketch was reminiscent of Lucille herself. Many old families had such talent running through their veins, but Lucille’s didn’t come from Madame Boudin or her father.
Lucille stood by the window, gazing at the garden below. Turning when she heard her mother’s footsteps, she gave a sigh. “I do wish papa could have been here for my wedding day, maman. Not ever knowing my father is the one disappointment in my life.”
Michelle stared at her daughter. It was true Lucille was a gifted artist, and perhaps it was time she learnt where her flair came from. She was just twenty-one, and Michelle considered she had finally come of age. Lucille had matured over the last few years, but Michelle promised herself she wouldn’t disclose the truth of Lucille’s birth until she reached adulthood. Michelle had no idea how she would take it. Lucille was normally of even temper—a little tempestuous at times—but a loving and caring person. One thing was certain: Michelle’s revelations were certainly going to be a shock to the girl.
“Is it all right if I get ready to go out now, maman? Pierre is picking me up in under an hour.”
Michelle sat down on the double bed and patted a space by her side. “You may in a little while, chérie. We need to speak first.”
Puzzled, Lucille walked over to the bed and sat down next to her mother. She had no idea what she wanted with her. She held back an amused smile. It was a bit late if she was going to give her a lesson in bedroom behaviour! She and Pierre had been making love from the first time they had been alone together. “Have I done anything wrong?”
It was Michelle’s turn to smile. “No, my dear, you’ve done nothing wrong at all. I have to tell you a story. You may find it shocking, and you’ll most probably be upset at first. But always remember you are truly loved. The story started about a year before you were born…”
Chapter 2 Guildford, England, 1989
Jane woke with a start. A feeling of apprehension ran through her as she rolled over and glanced at her bedside clock. Three thirty, the dead hour…please, not again! This was the third time in just over a week she had woken up early and then spent the remaining early hours of the morning tossing and turning. She thumped her pillow and lay back down. What was causing this sense of foreboding?
She heard a car change gear as it slowed down on the road outside, and the beam from its headlights travelled briefly across her bedroom wall. Someone either started work early or was returning from a late date. Jane snuggled back down under the duvet. The departing headlights got her thinking. Her fiancé, David, was due back from his trip to New York that day. They had spoken to each other on the telephone while he was away. It was a nuisance, but for some reason he hadn’t been able to ring her every day and she had missed their twice-daily conversations during his absence. But that night, they would be together again. Jane could hardly wait.
Jane hadn’t missed David as much as on the previous occasions he had gone abroad. She had plenty on her mind concerning her job. It wasn’t the first time she needed a change. There was plenty to do, and as a member of the head office staff, there was always a variety of work. But Jane had seen and done it all before. After four years, she was becoming restless and thought it was about time for something more challenging…but what? There were a few vacancies within the company, but most were located further north. The weather was bad enough in the south of England; Yorkshire or Manchester would be far wetter and colder. Besides, if she found another position and moved, what about David? She didn’t relish the thought of commuting every weekend, and she was positive he would feel the same if the matter arose.
Getting married wasn’t going to solve her problem either, because she knew David expected her to carry on working if and when she became pregnant. That in itself was an ‘iffy’ problem too. For some time now, she knew David wasn’t happy about becoming a father, let alone raising a family of two or three children.
Another option was to change companies altogether, which might have been the best solution. As much as she liked her workmates, her boss—the owner of the company—had developed an interest in her. Oliver Blackwell was the perfect gentleman, but she knew the signs: he was sexually attracted to her. Because Jane was engaged and loved her fiancé, there was no way she could have become involved and risked everything. It really was time to move on and put any temptation out of sight and mind. But what on earth would she do? Working for a sailing-holiday company was certainly different, and the holiday perks were fantastic. She didn’t relish the idea of going back into interior design which had been her first job after leaving school. Jane had her City and Guilds diploma in interior design, but she needed a new direction now and yearned from some open space. She yawned and rolled over onto her other side. Perhaps sleep would come to her if she relaxed more.
Her thoughts turned back to having a baby. She was past thirty and her biological clock was ticking. She knew the risks of becoming pregnant later in life and recognised that now was a good time; but could she convince David? She didn’t want to appear desperate, but David had been unfair in not admitting sooner that children were not going to feature in his world. Jane was shocked when he first told her. He said having a child would make him feel his own life had come to an end. Was that the right way to enter into a marriage, which should be based on love and understanding? Her mind drifted away, and she dreamed of weddings and babies, champagne and honeymoons, moonlit tropical beaches and…
*****
Jane stood back and admired her home. Knowing that David appreciated a tidy house, she had risen early, despite her broken night, and cleaned her flat from top to bottom. She guessed he would be suffering from jet lag and decided to cook for him instead of suggesting they ate in a favourite restaurant. Her home town of Guildford had dozens of good places to choose from, but none would be as intimate or inviting as what she had to offer. She laughed to herself over the euphemism ‘of what she had to offer’. After spending a small fortune on skimpy, lacy underwear Jane couldn’t wait to see David’s face when she slipped out of her dress later that evening. Her fiancé wasn’t the most fervent of lovers, but she reckoned the sight of her standing in the bedroom doorway wearing nothing but a scrap of underwear and ridiculously high heels would knock him for six. David had been away for a long week, and Jane was looking forward to a full night of passionate love and lust. To hell with the jet lag too; she would make sure she took the initiative!
She smiled as she thought about her fiancé. David was fussy and inclined to be old-fashioned, but that was okay. She knew how to make him happy. He liked simple food, a good fillet steak with mushrooms on the side. Vegetables steamed al dente, sautéed potatoes and no sweet. He abhorred sweet things, much preferring savouries and never let her forget it. Jane enjoyed most food and would eat almost anything, but she usually cooked to suit David’s taste.
The table was laid just so. Shiny cutlery, polished cut glass, and a neat little flower display in the centre. Two white church candles were glowing at either end, and Jane had already placed the chilled champagne welcoming David home in an ice bucket by his place setting. All she needed now was for him to ring her door bell and announce his arrival.
She felt excited and did a joyous little skip back towards the kitchen as she remembered to turn the vegetables off. If they were soft, then the meal would have been ruined. She mentally ran through her arrangements and decided everything was fine. The food was delicious, the flat looked inviting, including the new bed linen; she smelt divine, and she knew she was looking her best.
She ran her hands down over her dress, smoothing away any wrinkles. Not only had she bought disgustingly sexy underwear, she had splashed out on a new dress too. Jane was long-legged and of slim athletic build. David had remarked on more than one occasion that she could be mistaken for a sprinter or high jumper, and Jane did enjoy her sailing and skiing. Tonight, instead of her customary jeans and sweater, her new outfit seemed to be moulded to her body, hugging the curves and lines of her trim but muscular legs, hips, and breasts. She raised a hand to her head flicking her fringe away from her face. Her hair was the colour of blue-black ravens’ wings, and for once instead of wearing it cascading over her shoulders, she had twisted the silky spill into a loop held in place by dainty tortoiseshell combs. Her eyes were large and heavy-lidded: sleepy eyes, the colour of the black-flecked deep brown of pecan shells. She wasn’t stunningly beautiful, but she knew she was pretty and made the best of her looks.
Jane glanced at her watch and noted that, for once, David was running late. She walked over to the window and twitched back the curtain. There was a fine rain falling which was haloed in the street lamp outside her house. She studied the drizzle as it slid down the oily glass. She could see no sign of David’s familiar Hyundai estate.
It was funny, but she hated that car, despite it being David’s pride and joy. What was it she had seen written about it somewhere? Oh yes. ‘Talk about the Hyundai Estate in a pub, and it would have the same effect as putting a sleeping pill in everyone's drinks.’ She had never repeated this to David, as it would have upset him, but she agreed with the sentiment; it was a boring car, and she often wondered why a single man his age hadn’t splashed out on something with more ‘pizzazz’ to it. A sports car would have been fun, especially in the summer with the hood down.
Just as she was about to leave the window, a sleek-looking car appeared round the corner and stopped a few yards further down the road. She peered eagerly into the gloom and was disappointed it wasn’t David’s vehicle. She let the curtain fall back into place and retreated further into the room. Glancing at her watch again, she saw he was now overdue by more than thirty minutes. She started to worry. This was so unlike him. What if he been involved in an accident? She shivered and walked through to the warm kitchen. There was an opened bottle of red wine on the worktop, and she decided to have a drink while she waited. She could call him, but knowing he might get irritated, she thought otherwise. He was bound to arrive any minute, so she ought to stop fretting. But she still couldn’t shake off the uneasiness she had been feeling all week.
When the knock came, she was so pent up, she almost let out a cry of fright. At last, David was here! Recovering her composure and with relief flooding through her, she hurried to answer the door. She threw back the solid oak door and without waiting for him to speak, threw herself into his arms. “David! I’m so pleased you’re here. I didn’t hear your car arrive. I’ve been worried, as you’re late.”
With her head leaning on his shoulder, she vaguely noticed the strange car from earlier disappearing down the road, its rear lights illuminating red pools in the street puddles.
David gently unwound her arms from around his waist, smiled, and stepped inside the small hallway. “Am I? I didn’t realise. Sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re here now, safe and sound. I thought you might have had an accident.”
“For heaven’s sake, stop fussing. A man can be a few minutes late, can’t he?” he replied, looking at his wrist watch.
Jane bit her lip at his terse answer. Whatever could be the matter? She decided he was more jet-lagged than she supposed. She would play the perfect fiancée and spend the evening spoiling him. Poor darling, his face looked taut, strained even, and his fine medium-brown hair was flecked with raindrops which dripped down onto his shirt collar.
She moved closer and putting her arms around his neck, kissed him. For a few seconds his cold lips didn’t respond, and then she felt him relax into her embrace and return her kiss.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered huskily as she drew back to gaze into his eyes. “A week is a long time to be away from each other. Come in and dry off. We’ll have a drink before we have dinner. I thought you might like to eat in tonight. You must be very tired, and it’s a foul night to go out anyway. I’ve bought some steak that looks fantastic. Fillet…I know you prefer it. I’ve even bought a bottle of champagne to start the evening, as it’s a special one.” She gave him another kiss and then moved towards the dining table. “Would you like to do the honours and open it?”
“Champagne? Honestly, Jane, I don’t think you can afford it. And what do you mean by special evening? It’s not your birthday or mine.”
Jane felt stung by his unenthusiastic reply but put it down to his overall tiredness. She laughed softly. “Silly. It’s always special when you’re here. I meant that tonight is extra special because you’ve been away, and now you’re home. Sit down. I’ll open the bottle while you rest.”
She took the bottle from the ice bucket and deftly withdrew the cork. There was a distinct ‘pop’ and a rush of glistening bubbles shot down her hand. “Oops! Clumsy me.” She grabbed a glass before more wine escaped onto the floor. “I can afford the occasional bottle of champers by the way. Here.” She passed it over to him. “What shall we drink to? I think it should be to us, don’t you agree?”
David didn’t respond. Instead he gave a thin smile, opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it. Eventually he raised his glass and said, “It’s a lousy night out there. How about we toast for better weather to come?”
Jane gave a blink of surprise at his words. Thinking he must be feeling very wretched after travelling back from New York, she too raised her glass and echoed his words. “Here’s to better weather.”
They drank for a moment or two in silence.
“I also treated myself to this new dress. What do you think? Does it suit me?”
David took his time answering. “I do. The colour suits you. I should imagine not everyone could get away wearing anything so bold. Yes, it’s very nice, but it looks expensive. Champagne and a new dress, have you come into some money?”
Jane gave a happy laugh. “No, worse luck.” She stood up and gave him a twirl. “I saw it in a new boutique in the high street. It was in the window, and I fell in love with it immediately. I’ve always loved red.”
“Mmm. As I said, it suits you.”
Jane pondered over words; he was acting peculiarly tonight. He had just said the dress was nice but nothing more personal than that. No declaration such as, ‘You look incredibly sexy, and I can’t wait to undress you.’
She sighed. David was never going to change. He just wasn’t that interested in sex. Perhaps it’s me, she thought with a sudden feeling of panic. Jane had been to bed with only two other men, and neither had fulfilled her. The sex had been quite nice but nothing that really got her blood racing. Surely, she wasn’t one of those frigid women? Pushing her thoughts to one side, she made a gesture towards the kitchen. “Are you ready to eat? It won’t take me long to cook the steaks.”
“Actually, I’m not hungry. Perhaps we can wait a while. Maybe I’ll feel more like it later.”
“Of course we can, I don’t mind at all.” Privately, Jane was surprised. In all the months they had been seeing each other, David had never been off his food. She even once joked that he much preferred food to sex, as his appetite appeared greater when studying a menu. “So tell me, how was your flight back today? On the news earlier it said some flights were delayed due to bad weather. Did you get any free time to have a look round? One day you must take me with you…I’m dying to visit again.”
David shifted his position in his chair before replying. “Um…not bad. Actually I came back a day early, yesterday.”
“Yesterday! Why on earth didn’t you let me know? You said nothing when we last spoke. We could have got together earlier.”
He took a large gulp of wine, shrugged, and then set the glass down on the arm of his chair. “I was tired and had a lot to sort out. “
Jane stared at him. He was acting so out of character, she wondered if he was ill. “I see. Well you’re here now, so let’s forget it and enjoy our evening.”
“We had some long, tough sessions with our clients, Fleischmann, but I think we managed to get everything straightened out.”
“I’m sure you did. You’re brilliant at negotiating deals. It’s about time Neil made you a director. Who was your counterpart? Max Fleischmann?”
David sat forward in his armchair and fiddled with the stem of his glass for a second before replying. “No. He stood down this time.”
“Oh? Why was that?”
“He’s handling the new part of his corporation. He’s moving more into the Australian end of things.”
“I see. Wow! That must be exciting for him, despite all his years at the top in New York. A new enterprise must be really challenging.”
“Exactly so.”
“So who’s taken over from him, his vice president?”
“More or less.” David took a sip of wine and then placed the glass on the coffee table standing before him. “His daughter.”
Jane was surprised and made a little ‘oh’ with her mouth. “I had no idea he was old enough to have a grown-up daughter. I always imagined he was about your age. How old is he then?”
“Max is mid to late fifties.”
“I see. And his daughter? What’s her name? I don’t believe you’ve ever mentioned her before.”
David picked up his wine glass, drained it, and stood up. “Any chance of a refill? No, sit still, I’ll help myself.” He walked over to the table and took the bottle from the cooler. “What about you? Are you ready for another?” Jane held out her glass, and David poured the wine before sitting back down.
“You were going to tell me about Max’s daughter. Has she been working with the family company for long? What did you say her name was?”
David studied the glass resting on his knee. He took one second too long before replying and in that instant Jane knew. She felt her heart contract. Her face paled, and she broke out into a cold sweat.
“Dana.”
Chapter 3
Jane felt so very cold. It was as if a thousand ghosts were walking over her grave. She shivered. David’s voice came and went as she fought down a feeling of panic. She blinked and looked over to where he was sitting.
“Dana. Has she, have you been working with her this last week?”
David nodded. “Max handed the account over to her, and she’s handling everything now. As a matter of fact she took over two months ago, but he’s now made it official. There was quite a party when she was made CEO of that part of the company this week. Max knows how to throw money around when he wants to make a mark.”
Two months ago. David was in New York two months ago. And he was there in between then and last week. Jane mentally counted the number of times David had visited over the last few months. Four…no, he had flown there five times in three months.
“So are you going back to New York in the near future? Or has it all been settled?” Jane asked in a quiet voice.
“Yes.” He paused. “It’s something I need to talk to you about.”
As if I didn’t already know, Jane thought. She pushed aside a feeling of nausea. “Oh? What’s that then?” Stay calm!
“I’ve been offered a position with them. They want me to go and head up a new division.”
She could feel a tremor beginning in her cheek.
“They? Who will you be working for? Do you mean Dana Fleischmann?” Jane whispered, fearful that her normal voice would waver.
David looked uncomfortable and stood up. “I’m sorry, Jane. But it’s such a splendid opportunity, and the salary is huge. I’ll never get another chance like this again.”
“And me? What about me? Do I figure in your grand scheme of things? Do you plan on taking me back with you?” Jane sprang up from her seat, splashes of heightened colour in her ashen cheeks. She couldn’t stay sitting down while David was pacing the floor.
He eventually stopped and looked at Jane. She saw he had the grace to colour. She didn’t know what to do or say, her mind was frozen. Jane turned away from David with her arms folded. She couldn’t believe what he had just told her. Moving to New York was so out of character for him. David was a fuddy-duddy—old-fashioned, pernickety, and far older than his years in outlook. She had once suggested they move abroad to work, but he had laughed at her suggestion, saying it would never work and he hated the idea of working for ‘foreigners’. This was all so ridiculous!
She walked into the kitchen and for want of something to do with her hands removed the steak from the fridge. She was mortified to find her hands were trembling. He hadn’t answered her question.
Placing the meat down on the worktop, she whirled round to confront him. “You haven’t answered my question.”
David moved towards the kitchen, his hands outstretched towards her. “I’m sorry, Jane. It’s just not possible at the moment.”
“What do you mean? Not possible at the moment?” she shouted, fearing she was in danger of becoming hysterical if he said anything else stupid. “When the bloody hell will it be possible then?”
“I…I…I don’t know. It would be difficult, that’s all.” He looked away as if he couldn’t meet her eyes. “I think what I’m saying is that it’s best if we call it a day. Now, before one of us says something we’ll regret later.”
“You bloody wimp! You just can’t say it, can you? You’ve met someone else. Why all this pretence? Who is she? Or let me guess. Dana Fleischmann. No wonder you didn’t push Neil for a directorship, you were planning on leaving him anyway.”
A silence fell between them as David dropped his hands and looked down at the ground. He nodded.
“I never meant this to happen, honestly.”
“How long? How long have you been seeing her?”
“Since Christmas. We hit it off, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. This last time—” David broke off and turned away with a hand to his mouth.
“What about this last time?”
This time David did look her directly in the eye. “Dana is pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.”
Jane felt her world tilt and everything went out of focus. A baby! Oh no, not a baby. This was the final straw. Perhaps she could condone a one-night stand, but a full-blown affair resulting in a baby? When David knew she was dying to be a mother herself. How could he? Oh David, not a baby.
She gasped as she suddenly guessed how he had arrived at her flat this evening. She marched through her sitting room over to the window and flung the curtain aside. Sure enough there was the strange car parked beneath the lamp. The lights were on, and she could see a figure sitting in the driver’s seat. Jane spun round with an accusing look on her face.
“That’s her out there, isn’t it? How could you! You creep! Not content to cheat and lie, you rub my nose in your sleazy affair. Get out. Get out, and take this piece of rubbish with you.”
She tugged at the sapphire ring on her finger. “No doubt with your tight little mind you’ll be able to sell it.” She threw the ring at him. David winced but remained where he stood.
“Jane—” he began.
“I said get out!” Jane whirled round and grabbed the ice bucket. Removing the champagne bottle she chucked the contents and bucket at him. “I never want to see your rotten face again.”
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