‘I’m afraid the children’s escapade this afternoon was my fault,’ Teddy said. ‘I thought Verity and I were managing to have our arguments out of earshot of Cindy but apparently not.’
‘I guess children don’t miss much,’ Anna said, not looking at him and continuing to unwrap her present.
‘Oh how sweet of Cindy. Look,’ and she held up the snow-globe to show Teddy. ‘So, why was Cindy so desperate to be here when I got back?’
‘She’d overheard me telling Verity not to come here before we leave on Monday and was afraid she wouldn’t be allowed to see you again. For some reason she was determined to give you that to remember her by.’ Teddy shook his head as he looked the snow scene.
Anna shook the globe and watched the snow falling around the bright pink whale on his blue island before quietly asking, ‘Does she know I’m her grandmother?’
‘No.’ Teddy turned away from her and began to pace around the room.
There was no reply to her quiet, ‘Are you going to tell her?’ and watching an unresponsive Teddy, Anna nervously shook the globe again. Finally as the silence between them lengthened Anna put the globe down on the table and waited.
Since their encounter in the cottage when Teddy had made plain his feelings towards her, she’d tried so hard to accept his attitude, to convince herself that she was happy to wait for him to come round; that it was pointless to contact him to try to persuade him to listen to her side of the story. But now he was standing in front of her, clearly unhappy, maybe she should try and break the ice – explain a few things?
‘Is this your first visit to Cannes?’ she asked as he stopped to stare out of the window, his back to her.
‘Yes.’
‘It’s ironic isn’t it, that both you and I chose this particular year to come to the festival. Me, to make my peace with Philippe and you to meet your father. Instead, Philippe died and I found myself tormented by the rumours that Philippe’s son was in town. And now you’re having to deal with meeting the mother who gave you away.’
Anna sighed when Teddy made no response. ‘What did you want to talk about?’
Teddy turned to face her. ‘Tell me about the man who was my father.’
Anna shook her head. ‘I can’t. I only knew him for six days. Other people can tell you more than I can. You need to talk to Jacques, to Bruno. They knew him far better than I ever did.’ She paused and tidied up the discarded wrapping paper. ‘I can tell you about the boy I loved though. He was one of the most kind, tender and humane people I have ever met.’
‘OK, tell me about your affair then,’ Teddy said.
Anna stared at him. ‘It was far, far more than an affair. Philippe was my first, and until I met Leo, my only love.’ She fingered the pendant around her neck, wondering where to begin, how to try and make Teddy understand the events of forty years ago.
‘For six days we lived only for each other. The in-phrase that year was ‘life without limits’ and it become our mantra. We knew without question that we were destined to be together for ever, living our lives to the full. I had no reason to suspect when I kissed Philippe goodbye at Cannes station after the Festival was closed, we would never be together again. We’d made so many plans for the future.’ Anna bit her lip and swallowed at the memory of her farewell with Philippe before continuing.
‘I went back home ready to work my way through the summer to fund my college course and to wait for Philippe to return from the States. I was so looking forward to introducing him to my parents as the man I was going to marry. Six weeks later I realized I was pregnant.’
‘Did you tell Philippe?’
‘Of course. I wrote and told him. But it wasn’t until this week that I learned how pleased he was at the idea of becoming a father and realized how much he cared about me – and you,’ Anna said.
‘This week?’
Anna nodded. ‘Yes. Once my parents knew I was expecting they took control of my life. Which included intercepting my letters. Forty years ago I was led to believe that Philippe had rejected me and our baby. I now know that was a lie.’
‘But why didn’t you keep me, bring me up on your own – especially if you loved my father as much as you say you did?’
Anna sighed. ‘You have to remember,’ she said, ‘the world was a very different place then. I was just seventeen – still a minor in the eyes of the law and living at home. Legally I couldn’t do anything without my parents’ consent until I was twenty-one. I couldn’t have a bank account in my own name, I couldn’t rent anywhere without them standing as guarantors and I had no money to pay rent with anyway. I was also unemployable. It was a world totally alien to the way things are today.’ Anna reached for a tissue from the box on the table.
‘My parents refused to even entertain the possibility that Philippe would marry me. They said he had used me and that I was stupid to believe he would “make an honest woman of me” to use their old-fashioned phrase. But they promised they would stand by me, let me live at home and finish my education provided I agreed to do as they said.’
Anna was silent as she remembered the terms her parents had imposed. ‘I had to go away to an unmarried mother’s home, the baby would be adopted and I was never again to mention the subject to them. I fought against having the baby adopted – tried to make them feel guilty about giving away their grandchild. But when I didn’t hear from Philippe I had very little choice but to agree to their terms.’
Carefully Anna undid the chain around her neck, opened the pendant and held it out to Teddy. ‘This – until three days ago – was all I had left to remind me of you and Philippe.’
Silently Teddy looked at the two pictures in the locket.
‘There hasn’t been a day when I haven’t thought about you; wondered where you were, what you were doing, how you’d turned out,’ Anna said quietly. ‘If I could have kept you, brought you up, believe me, I would have done. I hate the fact that I had to give you away and Philippe never knew you. But I don’t for one minute regret loving him and having his baby.’
‘No, the regrets are all on my side,’ Teddy said, a bitter edge to his voice, as he snapped the locket shut. ‘And missing my father by just a few days is the biggest one of all.’ He held the jewellery out to Anna and dropped it into her out stretched hand before turning away from her.
‘I suspect not knowing you was one of Philippe’s greatest regrets throughout his life,’ Anna said, replacing the pendant around her neck. ‘But I’ve come to believe harbouring regrets about the past is a futile exercise. They will poison and ruin the present – and our new relationship – if you give in to them. We have to move on – get to know one another as the people our lives have made of us.’
Teddy turned and stared at her as Anna struggled to express herself. ‘For years I have listened to friends talk about their families, their children, unable to mention my own, unknown son, to anyone. I can’t tell you how happy I am now it’s possible for me to get to know you. For us to be finally involved in each other’s life, to be friends—’
Teddy held up his hand. ‘Stop. I’m not sure I’m ready to be involved with you. It’s too late for us to play happy families. As for being friends,’ Teddy shrugged his shoulders, ‘I don’t think we can ever be just “friends”.’
‘We could at least try getting to know each other,’ Anna said.
‘I have to think about what you’ve told me. I also need to try and forgive you for giving me away, but I’m not sure I can yet.’
‘Are you at least going to tell people that you’re Philippe Cambone’s son? Lay the rumours that are circulating.’
‘I’m not sure.’ Teddy said. ‘If he was still alive, yes, but it seems a bit pointless as he’ll never know.’
‘If he was still alive, he’d have been shouting about your existence from the top of the Palais des Festivals,’ Anna said. ‘I know he would have been so proud to have called you his son – as I am. Why should you feel diffident about telling the world he was your father? That I’m your mother,’ Anna paused. ‘Besides, it’s not just about you and me any longer is it? There’s Cindy. Are you going to tell her she’s got a new grandmother? A grandmother who would very much like to be a part of her life.’
Anna looked at Teddy, inwardly praying that he would respond to her, that he would forgive her and let her into his life. ‘Wait here,’ she said. ‘I have to fetch something I want you to read.’
When she returned, Teddy was just closing his mobile. ‘Bruno,’ he said. ‘He wants to know if I’ll consider reading a piece at the memorial service on Monday.’
‘Are you going to?’
Teddy shrugged. ‘I told him I’d think about it.’ Teddy glanced at his watch. ‘I have to go. I’m due at the final screening in an hour.’
‘Here, take these with you then, but please look after them,’ Anna said, holding out the large envelope. ‘It’s a letter and part of a journal written by Philippe. I think you need to read them. It goes without saying I want them back. They may have only came into my possession a few days ago but they are already treasured. I couldn’t bear to lose them.’
‘You trust me with them? Aren’t you afraid to let them out of your sight?’
‘Why wouldn’t I trust you with them? You’re my son. They were written by your father. They concern you. Hopefully once you’ve read the envelope’s contents you’ll feel able to publicly acknowledge Philippe Cambone as your father – and me as your mother.’