Darkest Longings (26 page)

‘Is that what she told you?’

‘Yes. Oh, yes. Elk a de la presence, she said, whatever that

means. She thinks you’re topping, Clo, and you’ll be so

much better than one could ever be at letting her down

gently.’ He stopped, then looking at her sideways, he said,

‘Do you think one should just pop back to England, though,

before you do it? You know, sort of get out of the way?’

‘No, I most certainly do not!’ Claudine laughed. ‘And

neither am I going to let her down gently. Don’t look at me

like that! I’m not saying you have to marry her, but what I am

rather passionate poetry she tells me …’

‘But Clo, one didn’t mean her to …’

‘Oh yes one did, Freddy! What you didn’t mean her to do

was assume you were going to marry her as a result. Now,

you are absolutely certain that you didn’t actually propose

when you were … incapable, shall we say?’

‘Oh, absolutely! I’ve thought about it and thought about

it, and I just don’t see how one could have. I mean, it was the

furthest thing from one’s mind …’

‘Hm.’ Claudine was silent for a moment. ‘Well, what

matters now is that we get you out of this mess and back to

Oxford before it’s too late. The question is, how?’

He gazed up at her pleadingly, and she sat forward to

plant a kiss on the end of his nose.

‘I know you’ll think of something, Clo. I just know you

will.’

The telephone started ringing then, and Claudine got up

to answer it. ‘Well, whatever it is,’ she said, ‘you have a

lesson to learn here, Freddy Prendergast, so you will be the

one to let her down gently, not I. Savigny 222,’ she said into

the receiver. She turned to Freddy, unable to stop the grin

spreading across her face. ‘Yes, Monique,’ she continued

into the telephone, ‘it is Claudine here. No, I have no idea

where Jean or Pierre are, so I answered myself. No, Celine

isn’t here either, she’s in Tours. Yes, yes he is.’ She grinned

as Freddy started frantically shaking his head. ‘I’ll put him

on.’

Glaring at her, Freddy took the receiver, and Claudine,

laughing, went into the drawing-room to save his embarrassment.

Five

disorder. ‘Monique asked one to remind you to invite

Celine and one to dinner tonight,’ he said morosely.

‘Of course,’ Claudine said. ‘Consider yourself invited.’

She waited. ‘Well,’ she pressed, ‘what else did she say?’

‘Oh, Clo!’ he wailed, clasping his head in his hands. ‘She

wants to announce our engagement. Tonight!’

‘Oh, Freddy,’ Claudine sighed, trying not to laugh.

He threw himself down on the sofa. ‘I’m doomed,’ he

groaned tragically. ‘Doomed!’

‘Not necessarily. I’ll talk her into postponing it.’

‘I don’t want a postponement, I want a cancellation!’ he

cried.

‘We don’t always get what we want in this life, Freddy,’

she said, a little more harshly then she’d intended. He gave

her a curious look, and she went on quickly, ‘A postponement

I can virtually guarantee. Lucien is coming home in a

few days time, just for the night en route to join his regiment.

For that night, assuming Francois isn’t called away, the

whole family will be together, and I’ll advise Monique to

make the announcement then. How does that sound?’

‘Better,’ he nodded dismally. ‘Better, but not perfect.’

‘Freddy, you aren’t still moping around the place, are

you?’ Celine was standing at the door, and the instant

Claudine saw her, tears stung painfully at her eyes. Hastily

she blinked them away - how ridiculous she was to be so

moved by the sight of people she loved!

Celine looked back at her niece, then with a smile she

lifted her arms and held them out to her. ‘Ma cherie,’ she

murmured, as Claudine went to her.

‘Tante Celine. Oh, Tante Celine, I’m so sorry. I’m so…”

She stopped as Celine put a finger over her lips.

‘There is nothing to be sorry for, cherie,’ she said. ‘We will

talk later, but for now I must have some tea.’

Of course they couldn’t talk in front of Freddy, but

already her aunt had made it clear that she had forgiven the

dreadful outburst, and Claudine felt a weight had been lifted from her heart.

Tea was brought, and Claudine heard about what had been happening at Montvisse while she was away, and told them all she wanted them to know about Biarritz. She knew she wasn’t deceiving her aunt, even for a minute, but it was vital to her for her own sake to keep up appearances.

It was a little after five when the telephone rang again, and

Pierre came to tell Freddy the call was for him. Choking

back her laughter at Freddy’s anguished face, Claudine

waited for him to leave the room before turning to her aunt.

Celine held up her hands. ‘I don’t want to know,’ she said.

‘He’s got himself into some kind of trouble with Monique

de Lorvoire, and as far as I’m concerned he must get himself

out of it.’

‘My sentiments exactly,’ Claudine said. ‘But I can’t

abandon him altogether - after all, he is only nineteen.’ She

paused and looked Celine straight in the eye. ‘Any more

man you can bring yourself to abandon me, and I’m

twenty-two,’ she added meaningfully. ‘That is, I take it, why

you are staying on at Montvisse?’

Smiling, Celine brushed her fingers over Claudine’s

face, then helped herself to more tea. ‘Am I allowed to ask

why you are back from Biarritz so soon?’ she said, dropping

two lumps of sugar into her cup.

‘The weather was atrocious, so Francois thought it better

that we return to Lorvoire,’ Claudine answered lightly.

Celine nodded. ‘Except that Francois, so I hear, is in

Paris.’ Her eyes narrowed as she regarded her niece. ‘How

are things between you two now?’ she said bluntly.

‘As good as they’ll ever be.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning that I am over the shock of losing my virginity.’

Celine seemed cross. ‘Please don’t treat me like an idiot, cherie. It would have taken more man that for you to run

away on your wedding night, but if you don’t want to tell me,

then don’t.’

Claudine smiled. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said gently, ‘but there’s

no point in going into why I left him that night, it’s history

now, and it simply isn’t relevant any longer. Things have

changed a great deal since. Francois and I now have a

marriage that will suit us both.’

Celine sighed. She didn’t like the sound of that at all.

‘Why do I get the feeling that you are starting a life

sentence?’ she said.

‘All marriages are life sentences,’ Claudine laughed, ‘if

you want to put it that way. And mine is not so bad. I have

Solange and Louis - and Monique and I will be friends

eventually. And now that you are staying on in Touraine for

a while, I am surrounded by people I love.’

‘But…’

‘And,’ Claudine interrupted, ‘if Francois and I continue

the way we are, it shouldn’t be too long before there’s a baby

at Lorvoire. So then everyone will be happy, including my

husband.’

‘So you are making love?’ Celine said.

‘That isn’t what Francois calls it, but yes, I suppose we

are.’ She looked away. She didn’t want to have to go into a

detailed account of the nightly struggle between herself and

Francois, particularly since she had now learned that life was a lot easier if she just did as he told her. Though he hadn’t liked it much when she started to sing the

Marseillaise at the top of her voice … She wouldn’t do it

again …

She looked up as the door burst open and Freddy all but

fell into the room. ‘Clo!’ he cried, ‘do! You know what we

were talking about earlier? Well, I’ve just had the most

fortunate phone call, and I think it will solve all my

problems!’

By the time Claudine had heard Freddy’s plan for extricating

himself from Monique, and had said goodbye to Tante

Celine, it was early evening. She still wanted to visit Liliane

St Jacques, and there was just time, she thought, before she

had to get back to the chateau to change for dinner.

The sky was almost dark as she drove through the village.

She could see Armand in the cafe as she drove past, and for

a moment she was tempted to join him, it looked so cosy

inside. But it was Liliane, not Armand she had come to see,

and there was no cosiness on earth to compare with Liliane

St Jacques’ kitchen, where garlic and herbs and pots and

pans hung all over the unevenly plastered walls, and the

ovens always gave out smells so appetizing that Claudine

could feel her mouth watering even as she stepped out of the

car and made a dash through the rain for the door.

By the time she reached it, it was already open, and

Liliane’s toothless smile was waiting to greet her. Her black

headscarf was tied neatly under her chin, and her shapeless

grey dress was covered by a faded, carrot-stained apron.

Claudine had met her only a few times before the wedding,

but like Solange and Monique she had come to regard her

as almost one of the family.

Claudine stooped to embrace her, and Liliane pulled her

into the warmth of the kitchen, clucking her delight that she

had come to visit so soon. She sat her down at the table, then

padded across the flagstones to ladle a cup of hot broth from

the pot over the fire. While Claudine drank she continued to

clean the vegetables she had set out on the table, all the time

recounting in a low, scratchy voice the latest village doings.

She knows all there is to know, Claudine thought fondly,

but there isn’t a malicious bone in her body; she sees good in

everyone, even where there’s none to see.

After a while Liliane got up and poured them each a tot of

Lorvoire wine. Then she turned on the wireless so that

Claudine could listen to the last part of the news broadcast,

while she added her vegetables to a lamb stew she was

cooking for Armand’s supper.

The only light in the kitchen came from the fire in the

huge stone hearth and the air was warm and steamy.

Claudine allowed her eyes to close, only half-listening to

the newscaster’s dull monotone as he read out the details

of a naval agreement Britain had signed with Germany,

and the latest information from the Bourse. Her concentration

waned altogether then, as she listened to the gentle

drum of the rain outside and tried not to think of Francois.

She had almost fallen asleep when suddenly the door

opened with a quick burst of cold wind, and Armand came

in.

‘Bonsoir, Armand,’ she smiled up at him.

‘Bonsoir, madame?

Claudine watched as he stamped the mud from his boots

and unbuttoned his jacket. She had met him only once, on

the day of her wedding, and she remembered now how

much he had surprised her. From what Lucien had told her

about the death of his wife and child, she had expected there

to be an air of tragedy about him - but, on the contrary, she

had seen humour in his kind, handsome face, and his large

blue eyes had shone with laughter as he danced the older

women round the ballroom.

‘I see you are sampling last year’s vintage,’ he said,

smiling.

‘Is it a particularly good one?’ she asked, feeling herself

responding to his warmth.

He pulled a thoughtful face. ‘Not particularly,’ he said.

‘But it will sell.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she laughed. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m

rather glad you’re here. There’s something I’d like to

discuss with you.’

‘Oh?’ he said, taking off his jacket and hooking it over the

back of a chair. He sat down at the head of the table and

Tilted his blond head on his hand, while his mother set a glass before him and started to pour the wine.

‘Well, it’s more of a suggestion really,’ Claudine said.

‘Francois tells me that the grapes are to be harvested soon, and that there always used to be a celebration at the chateau when they were in. I was wondering if it would be a good

idea to revive the tradition. What do you think?’

‘Madame de Lorvoire,’ Armand said, with irony in his

voice, ‘you’re going to make yourself even more popular

than you already are if you continue to come up with

suggestions like that.’

‘So you’ll help?’

‘Of course, madame.’

‘Marvellous. And please stop addressing me as ‘madame’

when I know full well that you even call the Comte and

Comtesse Louis and Solange. Perhaps you can spread the

word. About the festival, I mean. See if anyone wants to join

us, do anything to help, donate things …’

‘A Frenchman, donate!’ he cried throwing up his hands.

‘Don’t you know they all have porcupines in their pockets?’

Claudine burst out laughing, and Liliane chuckled too.

Armand drained his glass, refilled Claudine’s, then rolled

back his sleeves and walked over to the enamel sink beneath the window.

‘What sort of thing do you have in mind for the

celebration?’ Liliane asked Claudine.

‘I’m not sure yet,’ she answered. ‘That was why I wanted

to talk to you and Armand …’

While Claudine and his mother ran through some ideas,