The Woman from Paris Read online

  “Lime and soda?”

  “Are you sure you don’t need more fortification?” He grinned down at her.

  “Maybe later.”

  “I would apologize for them,” he whispered once they had sat down, “but they’re your family, too.” They both laughed, and Antoinette thought how already they appeared like siblings.

  Harris brought drinks, and they chatted around the fire. Roberta perched on the window seat, some distance from the rest of the family, listening but not taking part. Antoinette didn’t bother to beckon her forward. If she wants to be standoffish, she thought, that’s her problem. She hoped Phaedra didn’t notice the girl’s rudeness.

  Phaedra noticed everything and wasn’t in the least surprised by Roberta’s hostility, although it hurt. She was grateful that everyone else treated her kindly. Julius had said that George’s family would embrace her as a long-lost daughter, but Phaedra hadn’t been so sure. It seemed a lot to ask of a family still in mourning. But the gamble appeared to have paid off. Antoinette was ready to welcome her, and David, especially, was going to great lengths to make her feel she belonged. Joshua’s eyes brightened every time he looked at her, and Rosamunde, clearly keen to please her sister, was very gracious indeed. To Phaedra, however, blood was of little importance—their shared love for George bonded them in a way that DNA never could.

  As Antoinette talked about her dogs, Phaedra noticed the pain behind her eyes. The woman smiled and laughed occasionally at David’s jokes, but Phaedra guessed that inside, her heart was a brick. She stood alone at the beginning of an uncharted and solitary road. She had her sons to comfort her and her sister to give her strength, and yet her widowhood rendered her isolated and forlorn. Phaedra wanted to reach out to her, but she knew that no amount of carefully chosen words could bring George back. Anything less than that fell desperately short.

  Tom still hadn’t turned up by the time they moved into the dining room for dinner. Antoinette looked anxiously at her watch. “Don’t worry about him, Mum. He’s probably forgotten,” said David, pulling the chair out for Phaedra.

  “I’m not worrying,” she replied, smiling unconvincingly.

  “I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten,” Rosamunde reassured her.

  “Has Tom ever been on time for anything?” asked Joshua, sitting down.

  “Oh, I think that’s a little unfair,” Antoinette replied, her hackles rising as she prepared to defend him.

  “He’ll be down,” Roberta added. “He certainly won’t miss this weekend. There’s nothing he enjoys more than a good drama.” Phaedra wanted to respond to the suggestion that she was the drama, but refrained. There was no point prodding the tail of the tigress, she’d only get bitten.

  “Any excuse to drive Dad’s car,” David added.

  Joshua chuckled. “Yes, he’s like Toad of Toad Hall at the wheel of the Aston Martin.”

  Phaedra laughed, and Joshua’s eyes flickered a moment with pleasure. “I’m not sure he’d be too pleased with that description,” she said. “No one would like to be compared with Toad!”

  “He’d be the first to see the parallel; there’s a lot of Toad in Tom,” Joshua continued, delighted that Phaedra found him amusing.

  Roberta sat directly opposite Phaedra and watched as David and her husband placed themselves on either side of her. “So, you’re a Kenneth Grahame fan,” she said.

  “Of course. The Wind in the Willows is one of my all-time favorites.”

  “Where were you educated?”

  “In Vancouver,” Phaedra replied with a shrug. “I hated school.”

  “But you went to university?”

  “No, I worked from the age of sixteen. I left home as soon as I could.”

  Roberta crinkled her nose. “Really, why would you do that?”

  “Long story,” Phaedra replied dismissively. She’d never share it with Roberta.

  “Such a shame not to finish your education. I bet you regret it now.” Roberta pulled a saccharine smile.

  “Not at all. Life has been a great educator.”

  “You know, my favorite character was always Ratty,” said Joshua.

  “Oh, me, too,” enthused Phaedra, happy to turn away from Roberta. “Steady old Ratty.”

  “I think David’s a little like Ratty,” said Joshua.

  “I’d rather be Badger. He’s more charismatic,” David interjected drily.

  “David’s much more like Badger than Ratty!” Phaedra exclaimed.

  Roberta stiffened and tapped her fingers on the table impatiently. “Tell us about you and George, Phaedra. We’re all dying to know.”

  There followed an uncomfortable silence. Joshua glared at his wife, but Roberta smiled the smile of a wily crocodile. Antoinette struggled to find something to say. It was inevitable that the subject would swing around to George at some stage of the evening, but she hadn’t expected it to turn so early on. Roberta was unforgivably rude. But Phaedra seemed not to mind. Harris filled her glass with white wine, and she took a slow sip. David would have liked to change the subject to save Phaedra any embarrassment, but he was as curious as everyone else.

  “What exactly are you wanting to know, Roberta?” she asked.

  “Everything, from the very beginning. Let’s start with your mother.”

  Phaedra frowned. “My mother’s memories are her own. She never confided in me.”

  “Roberta, this isn’t the Spanish Inquisition,” said Rosamunde, repeating what she had heard her sister say to Margaret.

  “Don’t pretend you’re not interested, Rosamunde. George’s illegitimate daughter suddenly appears at his funeral and inherits a fortune, not to mention the Frampton Sapphires.” At the mention of the jewels Roberta’s voice thinned with emotion. “I think it’s our right, as his family, to know how it all came about.”

  “Phaedra must tell us only what she wants to tell us,” said Antoinette diplomatically.

  “You don’t have any objection, do you?” Roberta asked Phaedra.

  “She’s not in the dock, Roberta,” said Joshua.

  Roberta rounded on her husband. “Well, I’m obviously the only one here who is honest enough to admit that I find the whole situation deeply shocking.”

  “Roberta!” David exclaimed, his face hardening with fury.

  Phaedra forced a smile and raised her hand. “Please, let’s not start a war. I’m very happy to answer for myself. Of course you’re shocked, Roberta. I would be in the same situation. The man you thought you knew had a big secret, one he didn’t share with anyone. But aren’t we all multifaceted? Don’t we all harbor secrets in one way or another? Isn’t that natural? He kept me secret to avoid hurting all of you, and, as you can see from Roberta’s reaction, he was right to do so. Had he not died, you’d all be none the wiser.”

  “But apparently he was going to tell us . . .” said Antoinette keenly.

  “That’s what he told me, too. But maybe he never would have.” Phaedra shrugged. “I mean, he talked about it, and he certainly made his intentions very clear to Julius. But it’s one thing saying you’re going to do something and quite another actually doing it.”

  “And we all know how impulsive George was,” Roberta interjected. “He developed short crushes on things, didn’t he? Remember those cigars from Havana? How long did those last? A year at the most. Then he decided to import llamas from Peru. His crushes extended to people, too.”

  “But he loved his family constantly,” Antoinette cut in.

  “That’s true,” Roberta agreed. She examined Phaedra’s face, trying to find traces of George in her features. “You don’t look anything like him.”

  Phaedra felt the chill of her scrutiny. “True, I look like my mother.”

  David leapt to her defense. “I don’t look anything like Dad, either.”

  “But you share many characteristics,” Roberta added. “What characteristics do you share with George, Phaedra?”

  At that question, Phaedra’s face lit up. “We had so much in
common. We loved all the same things: the mountains, climbing in wild places, traveling, sport.”

  “You don’t ski, do you?” David asked excitedly.

  “Absolutely. I grew up in Vancouver.”

  “Did you ski with Dad?”

  “Yes, he was a beautiful skier.”

  “Did he take you to Murenburg?” Antoinette asked, fighting a sudden sense of betrayal. How was it that they had done all these things together without her knowledge? Climbing, traveling, skiing . . . She swallowed back tears as the secret suddenly became so much bigger.

  “No, he took me to Whistler in Canada for my birthday. We also played cards. He was a wicked bridge player.” Antoinette recalled the various times George had tried, and failed, to teach her bridge. She watched Phaedra across the table and wondered whether George had found a soul mate in his daughter, someone who loved all the same things that he loved: all the things she hated.

  “Was he very surprised when you appeared, claiming to be his daughter?” Roberta probed deeper. “I mean, did your mother really keep your birth secret from him? I find that very unlikely.”

  Phaedra couldn’t help but admire the girl’s perseverance, although she didn’t relish having to answer her questions. Her heart was thumping wildly, and her hands had begun to sweat. Everyone was staring at her, which was daunting. “My mother didn’t want anything from George, Roberta. It was a brief love affair that ended. Telling him she was carrying his child would not have resurrected it. Besides, she soon married Jack, and we became a family for a while. I grew up believing Jack was my father.”

  “Why did she leave it so late to tell you the truth?” Roberta asked.

  Phaedra lowered her eyes and seemed to wilt for a moment beneath the pressure of Roberta’s questioning. “Jack died. She wanted me to know then that he wasn’t my real father.”

  “Dear girl, how ghastly for you to lose two fathers in such a short space of time,” said Rosamunde.

  “Jack was a father to me for the first ten years of my life, and I felt bereft and betrayed when he left. He settled in New Zealand and raised a family there. He didn’t keep in touch. When he died, I felt nothing. I barely remember him now.”

  David noticed that Phaedra’s eyes had begun to glitter and pushed back his chair. “Right, let’s eat. I’m ravenous!” Harris had brought in the food on large china dishes and placed them on the sideboard at the end of the room. “Phaedra, why don’t you come and help yourself,” he suggested quietly.

  But Roberta wasn’t finished. “Did you see a lot of George over the eighteen months that you knew him?” she persisted.

  “Yes. He was a busy man, but he made time for me. We skied and trekked together. I lived in Paris but spent a lot of time traveling in Asia, which is where he loved to be, too. I’ve been working on a big photographic book of the Himalayan communities, you see. George was helping me. He knew the area well. I moved to London only very recently to see more of him.” She lowered her eyes and fingered her fork nervously. “I’ll be moving back to Paris now, as I have to finish my book and there’s no reason for me to stay.”

  “Why Paris?”

  “I’ve lived all over, Roberta, but Paris is the city I feel most at home in,” Phaedra replied, trying to remain composed as Roberta fired one question after another. “I speak French and have many friends there.”

  “Did George introduce you to people? How did he keep you secret for all that time?”

  “He didn’t have to. We were climbing mostly. Just us and a few sherpas and porters. It was irrelevant.”

  “But when you were skiing in Whistler, for example? How did he keep you secret there?”

  “He didn’t. He kept the fact that I was his daughter secret.”

  Roberta crinkled her nose. “So how did he introduce you?”

  “As a photographer,” Phaedra replied simply, placing her napkin on the table and standing up. “He didn’t feel the need to explain to anyone.”

  Just then the door swung open and Tom stood in the doorway, his hair standing on end like a monkey. “Sorry I’m late. I came all the way down from London with the roof off. Fast as I could. Mmmm, what’s for dinner?”

  8

  Phaedra was relieved that Tom had arrived in time to deflect the conversation from her. She was uncomfortable talking about George. She felt exposed having to field questions about their relationship. As far as she was concerned, they all missed him—and that was all that mattered.

  She wished she hadn’t got involved with his family, but she had been determined to attend the funeral. Julius did warn her of the consequences, but she had insisted. Now she understood why he had advised her to act with caution. The sooner she could return to Paris and put this all behind her, the better.

  Antoinette was relieved to see Tom. The constant churning of anxious thoughts in her head was momentarily stilled as her son bent down to kiss her. “Sorry, Mum. I overslept.”

  “That’s okay, darling. I’m just glad you’re here.” She watched him greet Phaedra, happy that Roberta’s badgering had come to a halt. Perhaps they could all enjoy a nice family dinner now.

  “And I’m glad you’re here, sis,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m loving the sound of that—sis—it has a nice, cozy kind of ring to it.” Roberta rolled her eyes and sighed heavily.

  David glowered at her from the sideboard. “If you don’t tell your wife to back off, I’m going to,” he hissed at Joshua, who was now helping himself to roast potatoes.

  “She’s suspicious, that’s all,” Joshua replied.

  “Well, she can keep her conspiracy theories to herself.”

  “Go and get some dinner, darling, or it’ll get cold,” said Antoinette to Tom, noticing how tired he looked around the eyes. His lifestyle was dreadfully unhealthy, but apart from a general weariness, he looked well. Tom helped himself to a large portion of salmon crêpes then sat beside his mother. He entertained the table with the latest drama from his nightclub. An employee had been selling stories about their celebrity clients, and they had trapped him by giving him an invented piece of gossip then waiting to see whether it came out in the papers. He was full of excitement because it had appeared in the Daily Mail the following morning.

  “I fired him,” said Tom. “We can’t have that sort of thing going on in the Red Lizard!”

  Phaedra chatted to Joshua. He didn’t ask her about George; what interested him was the person she was, not her relationship with his father. It seemed that only Roberta needed to know details, as if she suspected her of lying and was intent on catching her out. Phaedra felt very safe sandwiched between Joshua and David. She felt the same sense of security as when she’d been in their father’s company, and she relaxed and enjoyed the dinner because she was now part of something stronger than herself.

  After dinner she played bridge with Tom, David, and Joshua at a small table set up near the large bay window at the other end of the drawing room. Roberta disappeared upstairs to check on Amber, but Phaedra suspected she didn’t want to remain in her company and was using her daughter as an excuse to get away. Antoinette sat beside the fire with her sister and watched the four siblings interact. “This is what it might have been like if I’d had another child,” she said softly to Rosamunde. “George so wanted a little girl.”

  “Yes, it would have been nice to have had a daughter. There’s not a hint of pink anywhere in the house.”

  “I was worried that Roberta was going to frighten her away, but judging by the sight of the four of them now, playing bridge so happily together, I think my fears are unfounded. Phaedra is made of sterner stuff.”

  “Roberta is unforgivably rude,” Rosamunde agreed. “I don’t know why she’s taken it upon herself to be the family sheriff. The jewels were never going to belong to her, but to David. Margaret would know.”

  “Yes, she would, of course, but George has changed all that now. I really don’t care about them at all. In fact, I’d say they’re very ostentatious, the sort of thi
ng Margaret likes to wear. But they’re a part of our family history. It would be a shame to watch them vanish down another family line.” She thought of Phaedra disappearing to Paris with the sapphire suite, never to be seen again, and her chest grew tight. “However, you’re right, it’s not Roberta’s place to represent the family,” she added. “Whatever anyone thinks, George’s wishes must be honored.”

  “She should remember that she’s a married-in, not blood.”

  “She’s just jealous, Rosamunde. Phaedra’s far more beautiful and charming than she is.”

  “And she’s blood.”

  “Yes, she’s blood. I still find it hard to get my head around that. It’s astonishing to think that all those years she grew up not knowing that George was her father. And George never knew he had a daughter.”

  “It’s not a surprise that he loved her instantly. There’s something vulnerable about her, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, she rather makes me want to mother her. I could have killed Roberta when she started firing questions at her. It’s as if she’s desperate to expose her as a fraud.”

  “A DNA test has been done, and that’s final. Roberta’s not going to find anything there.”

  “It’s all about money, I’m afraid,” said Antoinette with a sigh. “She came into the family with nothing and was suddenly very rich. She’s lucky we’re not questioning her motives for marrying Josh.”

  “Perhaps her suspicions about Phaedra reveal more about herself than she realizes.”

  “Yes, I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Antoinette watched Harris place the tray of coffee on the low table in front of her. “Now, I wonder whether Roberta will come down again, or whether we’ve seen the last of her for tonight.”

  * * *

  Phaedra was a gifted bridge player. Tom was happy to partner her when he realized how cunning she was. They won without any difficulty and laughed all the way through the postmortem. Phaedra sipped peppermint tea and recalled wistfully how it was George who had taught her to play during a three-day stopover at Annapurna base camp when they were held back due to bad weather. Climbing would never be the same now that George was dead. That chapter of her life had closed forever.