A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel (40 page)

Robert, who understood his distress, put a hand on the railing, and said, “I’ll free myself up for a few days so I can stay. But I want you to wrap your brain around one thing, Jules. … Whether I’m here or not won’t change anything. If he does make it, Dad will be in a bad way for a long time. …”

Jules seemed to have a hard time accepting this. He swallowed his saliva a few times, saying nothing.

“When he comes back home,” Robert continued, “if he ever comes back, he’s going to need a live-in nurse. … We’ll talk about it then. …”

Robert sighed, sadder about his brother than his father. He knew that Aurélien was the very heart of Jules’s existence.

“Are you scared?” he asked Jules with affection.

“Very. …”

Jules’s very real suffering went beyond anything Robert could say. He squeezed his brother’s shoulder and went up the stairs.

Jules tried to smile. He’d been sitting at Aurélien’s side for more than an hour. His father’s eyes seemed to be filled with the words he couldn’t speak. Jules grabbed the inert hand on the sheet, caressed it, and then gently set it back down. The inarticulate sound coming out of Aurélien’s mouth startled Jules. Aurélien raised his head and was desperately trying to say something to his son.

“Don’t try to move,” Jules said. “You’re going to be okay, you know. …”

Aurélien let his head fall back down on the pillow and averted his eyes. All that he’d kept quiet for thirty years, he now wasn’t able to utter.

“Please, Mr. Laverzac. You have to let your father rest.”

A nurse was gently shaking Jules’s shoulder. He regretfully got to his feet and left the room. In the hospital’s parking lot, he ran into Pauline.

“I was waiting for you,” she said. “Bob dropped me off on his way back to Paris. I brought a radio for Aurélien. Do you think that … No, of course not. Oh well. …”

She climbed into the car with Jules.

“The truth is,” she said, “Bob doesn’t want you to be alone too much. … According to him, you shouldn’t be coming here every free second you have. That on top of everything at Fonteyne …”

That Pauline would try to tell him what to do made Jules smile.

“You’re funny, Pauline,” he said.

“I know,” she said. “You’ve told me that a hundred times before.”

She was laughing, beautiful and carefree as always.

“I could use Louis-Marie’s help,” he said. “How long can you guys stick around Fonteyne?”

“For as long as you need us to stay,” she said, suddenly serious.

As soon as they arrived at Fonteyne, Jules headed for Aurélien’s office. He asked Fernande for coffee and a steak, then sat at his father’s desk and began working. Laurène soon joined him to take a look at the paperwork Frédérique hadn’t had time to handle. A few times she put a document under Jules’s nose, but he remained absorbed in his thoughts.

She was getting distressed at him being so distant and silent, and then he suddenly raised his head and asked, “What happened in that dining room before I got there?”

The allusion to the horrible scene froze Laurène for a second, and then she said, “Nothing special. We’d had too much to drink, all of us. Aurélien, he’s always drinking an awful lot …”

Jules was staring at her, waiting for more.

“Jules,” Laurène said, slowly, “were you attracted to that girl?”

“Why?”

“Answer me.”

“I was attracted to her, yes.”

“And you love me?”

He got up and went over to her. Her eyes were filled with tears.

“I know it’s not the ideal time to talk about all of this,” she managed to say.

He took her in his arms lovingly.

“Yes,” he said. “I do love you.”

He seemed sincere, desperate.

“Did you sleep with her this winter?”

“Yes.”

“Often?”

“Once.”

He squeezed her, aware that he was causing her pain.

“Listen, Laurène … I have an awful lot of worries right now, but I understand yours. If that changed something for you, if it’s too much too take …”

She said nothing, and he gathered the courage to continue, “Do you want to leave me, Laurène?”

She was now sobbing. She freed herself from his embrace, took two steps back, and looked him right in the eyes.

“Never,” she said. “I’ll never leave you.”

He had the strange feeling that she’d just found him guilty and forgiven him at the same time. A soft knock on the door interrupted them.

“We’re here to listen to whatever you’ve democratically decided for us to do!” Alex said as he walked into the room.

Jules was in no mood for that kind of humor, and he shot his brother a murderous look. Louis-Marie sat on an armchair.

“Very funny,” Jules muttered.

As Fernande was coming in at that moment, with the meal he’d ordered half an hour earlier, he asked her to tell Lucas to come over right away. Then he began eating, all the while explaining what he’d planned for the next few days. Louis-Marie listened intently, both amused and captivated by his brother’s authority, as Alex sulked. Jules’s decisions and arguments, which he presented one after the other, seemed irrefutable to the others. When it came to Fonteyne, Jules was always on top of his game.

Night had fallen. Jules didn’t take Aurélien’s seat at the dinner table. The family was rallying around him, except for Alexandre. Jules decided not to let things fester, and he took his brother aside after dinner. He explained to him that this was hardly a good time to sulk and pout, and that he was expecting everybody to be as efficient as possible in Aurélien’s absence. In the middle of Jules’s speech, Alexandre had a fit of anger, saying he’d had it up to here being treated like an employee at Fonteyne.

“I’ve had enough of you and Dad’s attitude,” he said. “If you want to know the truth, this entire place is making me sick to my stomach!”

Stunned, Jules took a couple of seconds to reply.

“Are you out of your mind, Alex?” he said. “Do you realize what you’re saying?”

“Yes, I do! What I’m saying is that I’m tired of it all and I’m out of here. You have no need for me, just like you don’t need anybody. And I need some fresh air!”

“You can have some fresh air later. There’s no way you’re leaving. You stay here and calm down, and then you do your work and leave me the hell alone!”

Jules was going too far—he realized that—but he was set on controlling Alexandre. That his brother would choose his father’s hospitalization as the time to shun his responsibilities and try to leave Fonteyne enraged Jules. He was now expressing the contempt he’d had for Alex for a long time. But he was absorbed too much in his own anger, and Alex’s reply completely took him by surprise.

“Either you leave me alone here, Jules, or you can go to hell at the next board meeting. Aurélien won’t be able to vote, and I’m going to vote against you. He shamelessly favored you, but contrary to what you might think, this is not a bad time for me to get out of here.”

Jules had the strong feeling that something irreparable had happened for the second time in a couple of days.

“I understand if you don’t love me,” he admitted with stunning humility, “but how can you not love Fonteyne?”

He was so sincere he was bordering on naïve.

“Fonteyne!” Alex said. “It’s your Fonteyne, yours and Dad’s, not mine. It’s your pride and joy, your El Dorado. It’s the treasure you’ve been enjoying without me for years! You’ve kept me on the sidelines too long, Jules. … Frankly, I don’t give a damn about that right now. This time, for once in your life, you’re the one who’s going to have to back off, or I’m going to make it extremely difficult for you.”

Alexandre’s voice was tired but filled with determination. Unexpectedly, he grazed his brother’s shoulder with his hand before stepping out of the room. Jules watched him go, without a word. Five minutes passed before he decided to move. He went up to his bedroom, where Laurène was waiting. She was still dressed, and she gave him an engaging and enigmatic smile. He sat next to her, trying to make sense of what had just happened downstairs. She didn’t realize to what extent he was distraught and, set on trying to seduce him, she began to slowly take off her blouse. She remained topless for a few moments, feeling awkward and embarrassed. He was watching her, bewildered, thinking how bizarre and awful a turn the evening had taken.

“What does she have that I don’t?” Laurène asked. “She’s a better lover? What do I have to do for you to forget about her?”

It took Jules a little while to realize that she was talking about Frédérique.

“I wasn’t thinking about her,” he said.

But, unfazed, she continued, “I have to shock you? Come up with something different every night?”

As she reached out for him, he snatched her wrist.

“Stop it, Laurène.”

“I don’t know what to do, Jules. It’s always a struggle with you. …”

He was in no mood for another scene. He got up, took her by the waist, lifted her, and dropped her on the bed.

“I hate what you’re doing,” he said between clenched teeth. “I cheated on you, I lied to you, it’s true. Yell at me if you want to, leave me if you need to, but do not behave like that.”

He quickly got undressed, and she tried to take refuge under the blankets. But she didn’t have time, as Jules grabbed the entire bedding and tossed it to the floor.

“You wanted to make love, right?”

“Not this way,” she said, rolling into a ball.

“Not this way?” he said. “It’s the way I want it to be, Laurène. Exactly how I want it.”

When Robert arrived at Fonteyne two days later, he found the house calm and well organized. As soon as he got there, Pauline latched onto him. She was a bit bored, while Louis-Marie was busy with the tasks that Jules was giving him. Dominique had interviewed several nurses before hiring one, a middle-aged woman that she’d seen in town a few times. A small room that no one ever used, contiguous to the library, was set up for the nurse. Aurélien’s bed was brought up to the library.

Jules oversaw the various preparations without intervening. When a wheelchair and other essentials for Aurélien were shipped to the house, Jules was present and looked even more discouraged. He wasn’t speaking to Alexandre anymore, waiting for a departure that wasn’t coming.

In the hospital, Aurélien refused to try to communicate with anyone, even with gestures. But when Robert mentioned the option of rehab in a specialized institution, he received a negative reaction right away. It was a first step. Aurélien was still completely lucid, which made his condition even more difficult to bear. Every day, Jules spent at least one hour at his bedside, alone. Both looked at each other, certain that they knew what the other felt and thought, no matter what. Louis-Marie and Robert never interrupted those moments.

But it was with Robert that Aurélien first tried to speak. He wanted to say something and Robert tried to question him, but he only managed to irritate Aurélien.

“Is it about Fonteyne? The family? You want the notary to come over?”

Robert felt horrible treating his father like a child or like some handicapped old man, which—alas!—is what he’d become. Part of him was evaluating, professionally, Aurélien Laverzac’s condition, his chances of survival still uncertain, without hope of full recovery. But on the other hand, Robert was looking at his father, a man he’d always respected enormously, and whose humiliation stung like a burn.

“Is it about one of us?” Robert asked.

And all of a sudden, Robert understood. He sighed and whispered, “It’s about Jules, of course. …”

Aurélien shut his eyes, satisfied, and Robert felt relieved.

“You’d like to talk about his adoption, is that it?” he said. “With him? With me? But you’re in no condition to tell a story. … Is there anyone who knows the truth about it?”

Robert was treading on thin ice—he knew that—but there was no time to waste.

“I’m going to try to help you, Dad. … No, you wouldn’t be able to write. …”

Aurélien had lifted his left hand, which Robert set back on the blanket.

“I assure you. …”

Moved, he thought of another way.

“Let’s try this,” he said. “I’m going to go through your address book and read the names out loud, okay? And you let me know if I get to the right name. …”

Robert was thinking as he spoke. If Aurélien had decided to shed light on this, he must think that he was nearing the end. The topic had remained taboo for thirty years, and now he felt the need to tell his adopted son the truth before it was too late. Robert thought that his father might die overnight, without being able to tell Jules the secret of his birth. Though uncomfortable, he felt the urge to press the issue.

“There must be some record of this somewhere. … City hall? Some church? The Margaux police department?”

Aurélien blinked many times and his hand fidgeted, and Robert had a flash.

“You were very good friends with the police chief, Officer Delgas back then. …”

His father’s grimace, which was no doubt a smile, indicated to Robert that he had hit the nail.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell Jules to go see Delgas.”

Aurélien relaxed and shut his eyes. After a moment, Robert got up and silently walked out of the room. He felt as though he’d been given an overpowering responsibility. He left the hospital and arrived back at Fonteyne quite late, completely unsure as to what to do next.

Pauline was the first one he ran into.

“So, how is he?” she asked.

“Not better,” he snapped back. “As though you really cared.”

Insulted, Pauline grabbed him by the arm.

“Hey, not you too! Everybody is being so grim around here.”

She smiled and added, “You’re handsome tonight. I always was attracted to you. And you’re aging so well. …”

He looked at her, horrified.

“How can you say things like that, Pauline?”

“Why not? Because Aurélien is in the hospital? Because Louis-Marie is around here somewhere? Chill, Bob. …”

Robert was exhausted, but still he wanted her.

“Pauline,” he whispered, “I wish you didn’t exist.”

“You’d die of boredom!” she said, cheerfully.

He asked himself sincerely whether he hated her.