The Woman From Paris (33 page)

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Authors: Santa Montefiore

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BOOK: The Woman From Paris
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“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy since I got back from Switzerland. I’ve been booked solid.”

“Well, that’s a good thing. Not that you need to work nowadays.”

“I work because I love it, Julius. A woman without an interest is a very dull one.”

“So how was it?”

“How was what?”

“Murenburg.”

“Oh, it was really magical.”

“Did you get closure as you hoped?”

“Oh yes. I feel I can now get on with the rest of my life.”

“Good. So how about dinner?”

She laughed at his persistence, but inside she felt a sense of claustrophobia, as if the walls were closing in around her, leaving her barely enough space to breathe. “I’m very tired.”

“Nonsense. I’ll take you somewhere cozy. We can eat early. How does eight o’clock sound?”

“You know, I’ve got so much work to do if I want to get this book finished.”

“Tomorrow, then?”

“Julius . . .”

His voice hardened. “Come on. I’ve moved heaven and earth for you. The least you can do is have dinner with me. I’m not Jack the Ripper!”

“Wednesday.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at eight.” Then he chuckled. “You and I are a great team, Phaedra.”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Don’t go all coy on me now, darling. I’ll take you somewhere highly fashionable.”

“Anywhere will do.”

“I’ll get my secretary to book at Le Caprice. That’s usually a good place to people watch.”

“Great,” she said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into her voice. The walls were closing in further. “I must go, Julius.”

“See you Wednesday, darling.” She wondered why he had suddenly started calling her “darling.” She didn’t like it.

In a state of distress she flopped onto the sofa and wondered what she was going to do. If George were alive, none of this would be happening. Julius wouldn’t ever have asked her out on a date. He wouldn’t have dared. But now George was no longer there to protect her she felt exposed, like a fish in a glass bowl within reach of a very greedy cat; a cat to whom she owed a great deal.

She picked up her telephone and sent a text to David.
Rufus, if you’re there, would you call me . . . I need to talk to a nice, friendly dog. Phaedra

*   *   *

David had just returned home from having dinner with his mother and aunt when his iPhone beeped with an incoming message. When he saw that it was Phaedra, his heart leapt. He switched on the lights and walked into the kitchen, then dialed her number. She answered after a single ring.

“Is that Rufus?” she asked.

“Woof!” said David.

She laughed. “Oh, it’s good to hear you.”

“Are you all right?”

She sighed. “Just some man who’s wearing me down.”

David’s blood froze. “Some man?” he croaked.

“He’s creeping me out.”

“Who is he?”

“Oh, he’s no one important. He just keeps asking me out.”

“Can’t you say no?”

“I owe him.”

“You owe him what?” David was alarmed. “Money?”

“No, not money. He’s been very good to me, that’s all. I feel it’s rude to turn him down. It’s only dinner.”

“Phaedra, you don’t have to go out with a man just because he’s been good to you. He’s probably been good to you just so that you’ll go out with him.”

Now it was Phaedra’s turn to feel alarmed. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She sighed and changed the subject.

“I’m looking forward to the weekend,” she said.

“Ah,” said David slowly. “We have a slight hitch.”

Phaedra’s heart sank. “I can’t come?”

“No, of course you can come. The trouble is, we’re all fighting over you and I’m afraid Grandma has won.”

Phaedra was so relieved that the invitation hadn’t been withdrawn, she would have thrown her arms around David if he hadn’t been at the other end of the line. “I’m delighted to be staying with Margaret.”

“You are?”

“Of course. I don’t mind. She’s very sweet.”

David nearly choked. “Sweet? You can’t really think she’s sweet.”

“Look, I’d rather be staying with you, but a weekend with your grandmother is not going to kill me. I’m very happy to be coming at all.”

“You can come whenever you like.”

“Then can I come on Thursday?” Fairfield was a safe haven to run to. She envisaged herself driving through those big gates and felt a stab of longing.

“Of course. Come and stay with me on Thursday and then I’ll take you to Grandma’s on Friday. She doesn’t even have to know about it.”

She let out a relieved breath. “That’s wonderful.” Then in a small voice she added. “I wish I could come now.”

“Any reason why you can’t?”

For a moment she almost weakened. It would be so easy to jump
in the car and drive down to Fairfield. But inside, her head shouted caution, and for once she obeyed. “I have work commitments . . .” She changed the subject. “What’s Rufus doing?”

“Lying on his beanbag in the kitchen.”

“Where are you?”

“On a stool in the kitchen.”

“How’s the farm?”

“We need rain.”

“I’ll do a rain dance then.”

“Yes, please.”

She laughed. “Give that darling dog a big kiss from me.”

“I certainly will.” He wished she’d spare one for
him
.

“I’ll see you on Thursday, then.”

Sensing her unease, he added: “Listen, if you’re worried about anything, you must call me.”

“I will, thank you.”

“And don’t let this man take advantage of you.”

“I won’t.”

“Whatever happens, just say no.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I will,” she said firmly.

“I mean, what’s the worst he can do?”

Phaedra’s stomach churned with nausea. “I know, you’re right.” But when she put the telephone down she dropped her head into her hands; she knew very well the worst he could do.

The next couple of days dragged for Phaedra. She missed David and couldn’t wait for Thursday to come. She prayed for rain and was delighted when, in the middle of the night, she was awoken to loud drops against her windows. It made her smile to think of David’s farm getting a much-needed watering.

She went about her work, writing the editorial to go with the photographs. It wasn’t easy, as she was a far better photographer than she was writer, and the words didn’t come naturally. Besides, she wasn’t able to give it her full attention. Going through the photographs reminded her of George. He had been with her during the
taking of so many of them. Those pictures inspired memories, which in turn aroused emotions from sorrow to regret to finally fear, as every thought led back to Julius Beecher.

She missed the countryside. The weather was now very warm. Blossoms had given way to thick green leaves, and the parks were ablaze with flowers. Once the traffic and bustle of the city had made her feel part of something; now it made her feel isolated and adrift. She longed to return to Fairfield, where it was quiet and lush—and she longed for David.

Wednesday arrived, and she keenly packed her weekend bag for the following day. Inside she was a tangle of nerves, excited to be leaving, yet anxious about her impending date with Julius. He was like an obstacle she had to overcome before she could flee to the safety of Fairfield.

That evening he appeared at her door at eight o’clock on the dot. She hadn’t bothered to dress up, frightened that she’d give him the wrong impression were she to wear a dress again. Instead, she wore white jeans and a floral shirt, her hair up and barely any makeup. Julius was very pleased to see her. He
had
dressed up in a smart black jacket, crisp white shirt, and crimson Hermès tie. His shoes were so shiny she could practically see the reflection of the street in the toes. He smelled strongly of cologne.

He kissed her, leaving a whiff of perfume on her cheek, and opened the car door. With a heavy sigh she climbed in, wishing the night were over and she was climbing
out
instead. He drove her to Piccadilly and parked the car in Arlington Street. Le Caprice was full of fashionable people as Julius had promised, but Phaedra didn’t bother to look around and chose the chair with its back to the room so Julius could sit in the corner and smile at those he knew.

To her surprise, he didn’t bully her, nor did he try to force his friendship upon her. Instead, he entertained her with amusing stories about George, and she loosened up and began to enjoy herself. She felt foolish that she had allowed herself to panic over nothing.

At a table at the other end of the room Roberta had watched them walk in. Immediately fascinated, she ignored the anecdote her
husband was telling the rest of the table and narrowed her eyes to take in every detail. So, she thought with satisfaction, Phaedra and Julius were a couple after all. Her suspicions had been right. Then, just to confirm her hypothesis, Julius tenderly touched Phaedra’s hand. Roberta was triumphant. She didn’t need further proof, but the very fact that Phaedra had come in a pair of jeans without having done her hair or makeup suggested that they had been a couple for a very long time. They were at ease in each other’s company. Goodness knows what they were plotting. When the waiter brought them two glasses of champagne, Roberta’s heart hardened with loathing. Were they perhaps celebrating the success of their scam? Well, their party was a little premature, she thought resentfully. They might have managed to deceive the rest of her family, but they hadn’t deceived
her
. She’d expose Phaedra for the liar she was if it was the last thing she did.

After dinner Julius drove Phaedra home. He didn’t ask to accompany her inside, and he didn’t request another date. He simply kissed her innocently on the cheek, made sure she got into the house safely, then returned to his car. She asked herself, as she tossed her handbag onto the kitchen table, whether her fears were born out of a guilty conscience. Julius was right, she owed him her friendship; it cost her nothing to give it.

*   *   *

“We need to conduct another DNA test,” Roberta insisted to Joshua as they changed for bed.

“Just because they were having dinner together, darling, doesn’t mean they are a couple.”

“God, what more evidence of foul play do you need?” She threaded a hanger through her dress and hung it up in the wardrobe. “Really, Joshua, doesn’t it seem a little odd to you that George’s lawyer and supposed daughter are having dinner together, just the two of them?”

“You read too many thrillers,” he replied, tossing his jacket over the back of the chair and unbuttoning his shirt. “You know, I don’t believe a girl like Phaedra is going to fancy a man like Julius. It just doesn’t add up.”

“Powerful men are very attractive, Josh. If he’s just masterminded her coming into hundreds of thousands of pounds, not to mention the Frampton Sapphires, don’t you think she might find him just a teeny-weeny bit attractive?”

“Are you saying that Julius falsified Dad’s will?” He looked at her gravely.

“I don’t know. Could he do that?”

Joshua shook his head. “Not easily.”

“But he could have falsified a DNA test, couldn’t he? I mean, have any of us seen the results?”

“No, we just took Julius at his word.”

“Big mistake.” Roberta squeezed toothpaste onto her electric brush and began to work away at her teeth, staring thoughtfully at her reflection in the mirror. At length she spat out into the sink. “Let’s do another one, then,” she suggested.

Joshua climbed into bed. “How are you going to do that? Mum will never let you; neither will David or Tom. They think she’s marvelous.”

“I’ll steal a bit of hair or something.”

“That’ll be amusing to watch.”

“I’ll take some off her hairbrush.”

“That means creeping into her room at Grandma’s. Rather you than me,” he chuckled.

“You’re not taking this very seriously,” she fumed, climbing in beside him.

He rolled over and kissed her taut cheek. “I think you’ll find that she is who she says she is and that Julius is trying to get his leg over, which, let me add, he won’t manage. Phaedra’s just being polite. He’s her ally in all of this, being Dad’s right-hand man. He’s probably been her friend from the very beginning. Don’t forget that she’s in mourning, too. Julius is probably a good shoulder to cry on.”

“Don’t you believe it, Joshua. She’s up to no good!”

“All right, Roberta, PI. I’ll leave you to expose the truth.” He kissed her again, but Roberta didn’t notice. She was busy planning how she was going to do it.

*   *   *

The following morning Phaedra set off for Fairfield in a buoyant mood. She listened to the radio and sang along to the songs she knew as loudly as she could. With the windows down and the roof open she felt a rising sense of excitement as she drove along the motorway. Any anxiety about Julius was blown away by the wind, and she looked forward to four days with David. She turned off the motorway and navigated down the winding lanes towards the town of Fairfield. The hedgerows were fluffy with cow parsley and the white-flowered blackthorn. It had rained in the night, and the grasses shone with moisture. Birds frolicked in the sky, lambs gamboled in the fields, and ponies flicked their tails to shoo away the flies. She passed pretty thatched cottages and motored over a quaint stone bridge that straddled a gently meandering stream. It was all so pretty she wished that she could live in the countryside, where every day she would be surrounded by such beauty. The London parks were nothing compared to this.

As she drove past the church she noticed David’s grandmother in the sunshine, talking to the vicar. They were deep in conversation, and Margaret was holding a posy of yellow flowers. Phaedra put her head down and drove on, but Margaret was far too engrossed with Reverend Morley to notice the little Fiat Uno.

At last she motored through the gates of Fairfield Park with a rising sense of excitement. She knew the way to David’s cottage and turned right up the farm track. She drove around the woods that seemed to float in a sea of blue. The sight of the bluebells was so stunning that she stopped the car. As she got out a Land Rover motored around the corner. She half expected it to be one of David’s employees, coming to tell her not to trespass, but as it got closer she saw that it was David.

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