A French Affair (49 page)

Lilian's gentle blue eyes were bright with excitement as she watched Luc breaking open the wooden crate containing her bronze. All around them his other works were covered by white sheets to keep off the dust, apart from the one of Jessica, which Lilian had insisted on seeing, and was now sitting on a workbench nearby.

The initial impact of Jessica's likeness had almost made Lilian gasp, for it was clear that Luc had captured an inner radiance in her that even Lilian wasn't sure she'd seen before. However, now the shock had worn off, she was feeling only pride in her husband's talent, in place of the moment's jealousy she'd experienced of such exceptional beauty. Jessica always had been the more attractive of the two of them, so there was nothing new there, it was probably just the fact that Luc must have noticed it that had unsettled her.

‘I can hardly wait for Charlie to see it,' she commented, looking at Jessica's sculpture again. ‘She looks so lovely I think he's going to fall in love with her all over again.'

Luc's eyebrows rose. ‘Actually, I've arranged to send it to the mould-maker on Wednesday,' he said, letting the crate panels drop to the floor, ‘so it'll be
gone before he gets here. I guess I could always delay it, though.'

Lilian gave it some thought. ‘You know, maybe it's better for him to see it in bronze first. That would be really special, particularly if we can get it back in time for his birthday.'

‘Which is when?'

‘At the end of September.'

‘It shouldn't be a problem.' Plunging his hands into the polystyrene pieces, he made sure she was looking, then said, ‘OK, are you ready?'

Her eyes shining again, she watched him starting to lift the bronze from its packing.

‘
Et voilà
,' he declared, pulling it free and placing it on a stand.

Small flecks of white foam still remained on the sculpture, but even before he brushed them away she could feel her heart sinking. It wasn't that it was bad – on the contrary, it was outstanding if one were only judging the likeness and skill – but there was no doubt that beside Jessica's exquisite features her own seemed almost lifeless and plain.

‘You don't like it?' he said.

‘No, I do,' she assured him quickly. ‘I love it. It's just a bit of a shock, I suppose, seeing myself so immobile, cast in one expression that doesn't . . . Well, it doesn't seem an especially happy one, which I don't think I noticed when it was in clay.'

Putting an arm around her, he said, ‘If you remember, you'd just lost a baby when we did this.'

Feeling her heart turn over, she leaned into him, and felt the strength of him wrapping itself around her.

‘We can do another,' he told her, tilting her face up to his. ‘If you don't like this one . . .'

‘No, I do, but . . .' She hesitated, really not wanting to offend him. ‘I would like to do another,' she said. ‘Do you mind?'

‘Why would I mind? At least it'll keep you in the same room as me for a day.'

‘Oh don't,' she groaned, ‘you know I want to be with you all the time, but . . .'

Interrupting her with a kiss, he said, ‘It's not a complaint. It's just a way of letting you know that I'm glad you're back.'

Her eyes narrowed playfully. ‘Are you sure?' she said. ‘You looked so shocked when I walked in last night . . .'

‘Maybe because I was,' he said, with no little irony.

Laughing, she looked at her sculpture again, then with a sultry gleam in her eyes, she said, ‘I wonder if the next one should be a nude.'

‘There's no reason why not,' he said, appearing to like the idea.

‘And who knows,' she continued, looking up at him, ‘I might be pregnant by then. Wouldn't that be wonderful, to have a sculpture of me carrying your child?'

‘Yes,' he whispered, gazing into her face. ‘Yes it would,' and pulling her against him he let his eyes rest briefly on the sculpture of Jessica before they moved back to the one of his wife, and then to his wife herself as he started to kiss her.

By the time Jessica walked up through the vineyard for dinner that evening she was feeling much more together than she had earlier, mainly thanks to having slept for most of the afternoon. Nevertheless, it was impossible not to feel nervous about seeing Luc, and concerned in
case Lilian sensed she wasn't quite herself. However, she could always put that down to another difficult call with Charlie, who, only ten minutes ago, had told her to stop nagging him about getting in touch with her mother – he'd tried again, there was still no reply, but as soon as there was he'd let her know. If ever there was a stuck record, that had to be it.

Now, as she approached the
manoir
, wearing a cream silk dress that showed the slender outline of her figure, and revealed the whole of her back, she could hear the hypnotic voice of Mirella Freni singing Desdemona in
Otello
floating from inside, while the vibrant colours of the flowers seemed to be seeping into the air. Everyone was already gathered under the nearside of the pergola sipping
crémant
and helping themselves to a succulent assortment of canapés, and she felt sure, as she greeted them, that her lingering tension didn't show.

Smiling and teasing Fernand, who was looking very dapper in a pair of loud red braces and a black bow tie, she was just taking a sip of her champagne when she spotted Luc at the far end of the terrace, talking to Claude. The jolt in her heart was so harsh that she felt the smile falter on her lips, but since he hadn't seen her she turned quickly away, not wanting their eyes to meet for fear of what might pass between them. Then Lilian was coming towards her, smiling with affection and holding out her hands.

‘Where did you get that dress?' Lilian demanded, kissing her on both cheeks. ‘It's heavenly. Doesn't she look gorgeous?' she said to Daniella, who was just coming out of the kitchen.

‘Absolutely beautiful,' Daniella agreed, handing a tray of hors d'oeuvres to one of the helpers.

‘And have you seen her sculpture?' Lilian asked. ‘It's so lovely I swear it takes your breath away.'

Jessica only smiled, more embarrassed by the compliments than pleased, particularly with Daniella there – then she noticed Luc was coming towards them and fought the urge to excuse herself. It would be ludicrous to start trying to avoid him, even though she had no idea how natural she could be.

‘In fact I told Luc,' Lilian was saying to Daniella, ‘that once Charlie sees it he'll probably fall in love with her all over again.'

Knowing Luc was listening now, and feeling terrible that Lilian was on the outside when the rest of them knew, Jessica attempted a change of subject as she said, ‘Lily, tell us about your sculpture. What's it like, and when do we get to see it?'

Lilian pulled a face, and tilted her head back briefly as she felt Luc come up behind her. ‘I have to admit I wasn't thrilled,' she replied, ‘but we've already decided to do another, haven't we darling?'

Jessica's eyes remained on Lilian as Luc said, ‘Indeed we have. I'm afraid my wife is my harshest critic.'

‘Don't say that,' Lilian laughed, leaning in to him. ‘There's nothing wrong with your skill, it's my expression I don't like, but there was a reason for it which we don't need to go into. The important thing is, I have my own personal artist who can create me another.'

Jessica's eyes went only briefly to Luc as he and Daniella laughed. This was proving even harder than she'd expected, for just seeing his arm around Lilian was causing all kinds of problems inside her.

‘Have you shown everyone the jewellery?' Luc asked, glancing down at Lilian.

‘No, we're doing that tomorrow, after lunch,' she answered. ‘Have you and Claude worked out what you're going to do about seating for the concert yet?'

‘We're getting there.'

‘You know, I could always talk to Madame Bouvier about borrowing, or hiring, some chairs,' she suggested, falling into the domestic trivia common to wives and husbands. ‘I'll see her on Tuesday at the meeting for the
vignerons
' ball. She knows anyone and everyone, so she's sure to have some ideas.' Then, turning excitedly back to Jessica, ‘You and Charlie should try to get over when it's happening. It's great fun. You'll love it, and you can always stay with us if someone's in the cottage, can't they darling?'

‘Of course,' Luc responded, ‘and I believe my father's already made the suggestion.'

Whether or not he was looking at her Jessica didn't know, for she'd felt it wiser to turn her eyes vaguely towards Fernand. She really couldn't look at Luc while Lilian was there, because Lilian always saw too much, and feeling the way she did she was afraid of how much there was to see. Then to her relief he was waving to Yves, Claude's brother, who'd just strolled over from his car.

‘Darling, before you go,' Lilian said, catching his arm, ‘is it OK if I take our visitors to see the sculptures? The Schmidts were asking, so were – what's the name of the French couple?'

‘Coursan. Félice and Gilles,' Luc reminded her. ‘The studio's not locked, so go ahead.'

‘Perhaps I can come and see the one of you?' Jessica suggested.

Lilian laughed and grimaced. ‘Next to yours, I'm afraid you'll see just how sadly mine pales,' she said,
linking Jessica's arm to start across the terrace. ‘But I was probably expecting too much. Maybe next time, he won't be so honest.'

Since she was supposed to laugh, Jessica did, but she had to add, ‘Honestly, Lily, you really shouldn't put yourself down. You're gorgeous, and not only on the outside, because if the rest of us were even half as beautiful as you on the inside we could count ourselves truly blessed.'

Lilian gave a hoot of laughter. ‘Believe me,' she stated dryly, ‘I'm no less terrible inside than anyone else, but I have to admit I'm finding it hard to pull any bad feelings out of the hat right now. Oh Jessica, I'm so happy to be back and to have you here . . . And we still have plenty of time to be just us before Charlie comes, because Harry's bound to be all tied up with Antoine and Elodie, and Luc's always in his studio or somewhere. I'm absolutely dying for a chat. I've got so much to tell you, but we'd best go and gather up the Schmidts and the Coursans now. Have you been introduced to any of them yet?'

‘I met the Schmidts earlier, as they came back from a walk,' Jessica replied, already smiling to greet them again, and a few minutes later, having shaken hands with the Coursans too, they were all on their way to look at the sculptures.

Virtually the instant she stepped into the studio Jessica wished she hadn't come, not only because of the memories that swept over her in a wave of guilt, but because the contrast between her likeness and Lilian's was so startling that everyone fell silent. A beat later they were all talking at once, admiring both sculptures, but paying such effusive compliments to Lilian about hers that it only seemed to make matters worse. In the
end, realising the best way to help Lilian out of her embarrassment was to leave, Jessica excused herself and went to rejoin the party.

To her relief she found herself seated between Claude and Fernand at the table, while Luc was at the other end next to Lilian – the only couple seated together. And as Fernand's helpers for the evening began serving the first course of watercress soup with an artistic swirl of whipped crème fraiche and jaunty sprigs of mint, she focused her attention on Claude, who was extolling the virtues of a very fine Montrachet – fruity, not too much body and with a delicious aftertaste of almonds. She tested the wine too, enjoying the little knowledge she'd gained from Luc, then after a while the subject moved to the following weekend's concert. This was causing Claude some concern, since the line-up so far consisted only of Daniella, who was singing three of her favourite Puccini arias, and Yves, who was arranging a musical transition from Satie, to Debussy, to Schubert. Since those two, between them, could easily fill a concert hall twice over, Jessica had to laugh at Claude's grimace of helplessness.

‘A mere two acts,' he complained, ‘but what am I to do? She won't be upstaged, and he won't appear with anyone else.'

‘What about the orchestra I hear is making the trip down from Paris?' Jessica enquired. ‘Isn't that another act in itself?'

‘Orchestra?' he cried, throwing out his hands. ‘They will be only ten in number. I don't understand why we French have to take such long holidays in the summer. Is it not a great pleasure to play music all of the time?'

As Jessica laughed, her eyes, as if they had a will of
their own, moved to Luc, and as if he'd realised it his flicked towards her. She looked away quickly and tried to engage herself in one of Andrea Schmidt's stories, while listening to the tragic aria of
Madama Butterfly.
She sipped more wine, ate more food, then laughed as Fernand refilled her glass and Claude and Daniella fell into one of their wonderfully entertaining disputes. The fact that they were still deeply in love in spite of – or maybe because of – three children and twelve years of marriage, was so evident that no-one ever took their bickering seriously. It made Jessica think of how she used to be with Charlie, so easy and relaxed, teasing him, as he teased her, while always knowing how close they would be when they got home. Then she saw Lilian whisper something in Luc's ear that made him laugh, and as he looked into his wife's eyes before pressing a kiss gently to her lips Jessica felt as though a light was going out inside her.

The salt-baked sea bass with sorrel and chilli was served, but she ate very little before her plate was taken away. Then the cheese was put in front of her, followed by the dessert of flambéed cherries with ice cream, though she was unable to eat that either. She wanted to apologise to Fernand, but his kindly eyes showed she didn't have to, which made her feel worse. She didn't want anyone's sympathy or understanding, she just wanted everyone to realise that no matter how she felt about Luc, no-one mattered more than Lilian, or Charlie, who, Lilian was just informing everyone, was about to join them at Valennes.