Unknown

he death of a loved one leaves shock and hurt in its wake. Even when it’s been expected. Hélène, after the initial outburst of grief, felt as if she was in a dream, a horrible dream, where she was expected to say and do things without really understanding what was happening. Part of her knew that her mother was dead, but another part couldn’t, wouldn’t, accept it, wanting to carry on as if nothing had happened. It wasn’t until Adrian, thrusting a glass of brandy into her hands, saying, ‘Drink this, it’ll help,’ that she realised that the dream was reality. That her mother – the infuriating woman who’d never been a hands-on mother, and who’d she resented so much for asking her, Hélène, to give up her home, her freedom – was indeed dead. Her mother, who if she was honest, she’d almost wished dead at times so that she could be free. Her mother, who over the past weeks had mellowed and been so proud of her on her wedding day…

The fiery liquid burned her throat and brought warmth to her cold limbs. Oh, she felt so cold! She heard a voice say ‘in shock’ and assumed they meant her. Her teeth chattered as she took another sip of brandy and slowly the warmth spread and her mind cleared. Looking up she saw Ben hovering nearby, his face creased with concern.

‘The nurse rang me and I’ve seen the…your mother. Her heart just gave out. I’m so sorry. Do you need anything?’

‘No, thank you. I’ll be all right once…once it sinks in. You think you’re prepared but…’

‘I know. It’s still a shock. Look, I’ll fill in the forms and Adrian’s said he’ll organise the…funeral directors, so there’s nothing you need to do for the moment. Why don’t you lie down for a bit?’ His voice was gentle.

She agreed and Adrian helped her to their room. After he’d left her lying on the bed she felt something nagging at her brain. Some memory. Something to do with Nicole. What was it? Perhaps it would come back. Sighing, she closed her eyes and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

With the formalities completed and Eve’s body driven away, Ben returned to his practice, promising Nicole that he’d call round that evening. She felt numb, shocked by how quickly the end had come for her grandmother. But at the same time she was relieved that she hadn’t suffered a lingering, painful death.

In the kitchen Adrian made coffee for them both before disappearing to make the necessary phone calls to the family’s advocate and the vicar.

Back in the kitchen he told Nicole that the vicar would be round later to have a chat with Hélène about the funeral. Bags under his eyes vouched for his lack of sleep and his face wore a puzzled look.

‘It’s a bit odd. Advocate Lowe said that Eve called him in when she was in the nursing home and changed her will.’ With a shrug he continued, ‘He’ll call round tomorrow to read it to Hélène so we’ll find out then what’s been altered.’

‘I’m sure it’ll be fine. Grandmother probably added a bequest to St Philippe’s or something. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.’

Nicole and Adrian joined Hélène when the vicar arrived at teatime. The sombre discussion of hymns and prayers in stark contrast to the joyful occasion of only a few days previously, when Hélène was choosing the wedding music. Eve had informed Hélène of her wishes with regard to the service, choosing her favourite hymns and insisting she didn’t want lengthy eulogies or prayers.

The vicar, in his sixties, had known Eve for years and smiled as Hélène relayed her instructions.

‘Your mother always knew her own mind, Hélène. And she always liked to be prepared, didn’t like surprises, unless they were nice ones like an unexpected granddaughter,’ his eyes twinkled at Nicole. She felt herself flush.

The mood in the sitting room seemed to lighten and even Hélène managed a smile.

After arranging the funeral for the following Tuesday at ten o’clock, the vicar left to visit a sick parishioner. Adrian offered to cook supper that evening, suggesting that Hélène and Nicole go for a walk. Relieved to get out of the house, they set off towards the cliff path.

Linking her arm through Nicole’s, Hélène stopped for a moment and gazed out to sea. The women took deep breaths of the ozone-laden air as they watched a sailing yacht tacking towards Baie de la Forge. They stood in silence as if mesmerised by the boat cutting through the waves. Hélène saw its passage as symbolic, wondering if her mother’s soul was now pursuing its own homeward journey. A comforting thought in spite of her pain.

‘I’m so glad you and Mother had time to get to know one another. It was clear to me how much she enjoyed your stay these past weeks. I…I think she died content.’

‘I’m sure she did. Her face looked so peaceful, almost happy. She was ready to go after seeing you married, she was so proud of you.’

‘Mm, I guess so. We…we became quite close at the end. I just wish…’ Hélène sighed.

‘Hey! No regrets now. The important thing is that you did get closer. Hang onto that thought and let go how it might have been. That road only leads to pain.’

‘You’re being the wise one again. By the way, what did Mother want to say to you this morning? She seemed very keen to ask you something.’

‘Oh, it wasn’t important. Shall we go back? Ben said he’d call in after surgery.’

Hélène sensed that Nicole was hiding something but decided to leave it. She had enough to worry about.

They found Ben and Adrian in the kitchen, nursing bottles of lager. Ben kissed Nicole before asking Hélène how she was feeling.

‘A bit better, thanks. Our walk did me good.’ She sniffed appreciatively. ‘Mm, something smells good!’

‘An alcohol-laden beef stroganoff. It’s nearly ready, I’ve just got to make the salad. Care to join us, Ben?’ Adrian asked.

While Adrian and Hélène finished preparing the meal Nicole and Ben set the table on the terrace, complete with a bottle of Rioja to satisfy the tacit, unspoken need for a dose of alcohol after the day’s trauma.

Glasses were raised in memory of Eve, the women’s eyes glistened and the men looked sombre. Then Adrian served up the stroganoff and they tucked in. Later, Hélène, slightly squiffy and glad of it, suggested that Ben stay the night rather than drive home. After a quick glance at Nicole, he accepted, saying he’d leave early in the morning. By ten o’clock they were all yawning and made their respective ways to bed. Hélène, leaning heavily on her husband, still hoped she was dreaming and that when she woke up all would be well, her mother still alive. If only…

Advocate Lowe arrived the next morning and, to her surprise, asked that Nicole be present for the reading of the will. Hélène, pale but composed, led the way into the dining room and the Advocate removed various papers from his briefcase before sitting opposite the two women.

‘As you are probably aware, Hélène, your mother wrote a will leaving everything to you as sole beneficiary. However,’ another cough, ‘she recently altered her will to include her granddaughter, Nicole, as a beneficiary.’

‘Mrs Ferbrache leaves the value of the house and contents, when sold, to be split evenly between you both. She assumed that you wouldn’t want to live here, Hélène, but if you did then you could have a life interest in the house and…’

‘No, I don’t want to live here and I’m very happy for Nicole to share the proceeds. It’s only right. She’d inherit everything from me one day anyway.’ She gripped a stunned Nicole’s hand. She’d thought perhaps a little memento, something to remember her by…but not half a house!

‘Good. I think that’s what your mother hoped you’d say. Now, although there’s not a lot of money it should more than cover the funeral costs. And there is one further bequest to Nicole. A ring, which I have here.’ He lifted out a small velvet box from his briefcase and handed it to Nicole.

She knew before she opened it what she would find. A dazzling diamond and emerald engagement ring. Given to Eve by Philip only weeks before he was killed.

Advocate Lowe left soon afterwards, in a hurry to get to a session in court. Adrian, who’d been waiting in the kitchen, said that he’d bring them coffee shortly if they’d like to sit outside.

Hélène, who’d made no comment about the ring, now turned to Nicole asking, ‘Is there something you know that I don’t? I’ve never seen that ring before and I’m certain Mother never wore it. But you didn’t look surprised when you opened the box.’

1st March 1945 “So excited! Philip…meet him in London…next week…on leave. Stay…family’s town house…parents…here…Hall…local…‘do’. Oh…hardly contain myself. Be the first time…night together…sure we’ll…do ‘it’. We’ve come so close…he’s always held back…disturbed…no…privacy. Taking…me…dinner… somewhere posh…my green velvet skirt. So happy…not since Lady Helen died…so sad…miss her.”

10th March 1945 “We’re engaged! He proposed…diamond and…emerald…ring…his…grandmother…left…him… jewellery…money…Philip gave it all to me…in case…but he’ll be home soon…all know war…over. We…made love…wonderful! I love him so much…can’t wait…marry.”

21st April 1945 “Telegram…Sir Michael…Philip killed…think I’m pregnant…”

Nicole felt relieved when Adrian arrived with the coffee. They were all going to need it.