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THERE WERE ONLY A HANDFUL of mourners at the Foulon crematorium; hardly surprising, Tess thought as she sat in the front row with the others. She smiled at Heather Barker, accompanied by a man presumably her husband, and nodded at the advocate. A couple of women of indeterminate age sat further along. The service was brief and impersonal and Tess, a lump in her throat as she sang the final hymn, ‘Abide with me’, was upset that a long life could be so little acknowledged. The casket disappeared behind the curtains and she led the way out into the spring sun, ready to shake hands with her fellow mourners.
‘Please accept my condolences. You must be a relative of Doris’s?’ one of the unknown women said, her hand outstretched.
‘Yes, her great-niece. Thank you. And how did you know my aunt?’
‘Maureen and I,’ she said, indicating the other woman at her side, ‘were taught by your aunt at the girls’ grammar school. The old one, in Rosaire Avenue, in the sixties. Lovely woman she was, taught us history, didn’t she, Maureen?’ The other woman nodded. ‘It’s thanks to her I became passionate about history and went on to university, coming back to teach until I retired.’
Tess was touched.
‘I’m so pleased you came and that you have fond memories of Doris.’ She waved her hand at the emptiness. ‘It’s sad to see so few here, but at her age, I suppose her friends have passed on.’ The woman nodded and she and her friend moved away.
Tess turned to see Heather Barker waiting with her husband, introduced as Neil. He shook hands, then excused himself, saying he had to return to work.
‘What are you doing now, Tess? I thought we might go to my place and have a cup of tea or something stronger, if you like. Unless you’d rather go somewhere else?’
‘I’d love to, thanks. I wasn’t looking forward to being on my own after...’ she gestured towards the chapel.
‘Understandable. I’ve got my car so let’s go.’
Ten minutes later Heather was ushering Tess inside her house, a mirror image of her aunt’s. Except inside it was anything but.
‘This is lovely, Heather. Was it like this when you bought it?’ Tess stood in the hallway, admiring the polished mahogany staircase, the treads carpeted in a soft green to tone with the painted walls hung with a mix of paintings and photos. A console table bore a vase of stylishly arranged flowers and a couple of small ornaments. The wooden doors gleamed as if freshly waxed.
‘Kind of. We made some changes to make it more us. Come on, let’s go through and I’ll show you around later. I think we need a drink first, yes?’
Tess followed her into the sitting room, opened up to the back, offering a view of the sea even from the door. The room was painted in soft cream and traditionally furnished with a polished wood floor. Heather waved her to a chair in the far window, saying, ‘Tea? Or a glass of wine? And I have cake.’
Tess chose a glass of white wine and Heather disappeared to the kitchen, leaving her to soak up the vastly different atmosphere of the room compared to the one next door. At least it showed her how it could be. Calm and elegant and so much lighter with the middle wall removed.
‘Here we are. I know it’s a bit early for wine, but, hey, this is Guernsey! And it’s traditional after a funeral, isn’t it?’ Heather said, depositing a tray bearing cake, glasses and a chilled bottle of wine on the adjoining table. She poured two large glasses of wine, saying, ‘Always keep a bottle in the fridge. There, let’s toast Doris, may she rest in peace.’
Tess clinked glasses and took a sip, admiring the smooth taste of a quality Chardonnay.
‘Thanks, I needed that. I hadn’t realised how tense I was until now. It’s been a full-on day.’ She let out a deep breath and let the wine begin its work of relaxation.
Heather’s eyes narrowed.
‘I can imagine. I gather you haven’t been back since you were a child? Doris told me you were reluctant to leave the island.’
Tess told her how her parents, particularly her mother, were ambitious and felt Guernsey wasn’t big enough for them to achieve what they wanted. Which was a big house, good income and easy access to London and the cultural life missing on the island.
‘Dad was a policeman and managed to get a transfer to Exeter and Mum was an office manager who soon found a new job in the city. Clive, my brother, and I hated leaving, but had no say in it.’ She sipped more wine and Heather offered her a slice of carrot cake.
‘Homemade. I’m not the greatest cook, but I can make a decent cake,’ she said, passing over a plate.
Tess took a bite. ‘Delicious, thanks. Are you a Guern, Heather?’
‘No, ’fraid not. Neil and I are here for his job. He’s in finance and we moved here from London for the more relaxed lifestyle and have loved every minute of it. In effect, we’ve done the opposite of your parents, but we do spend several weekends a year back in London, catching up with friends and seeing the latest plays.’
‘Sounds a good mix. What about your children? Did they mind moving?’
Heather frowned.
‘We never had any, so no problem there. I can understand how hard it must have been for you and your brother. Leaving friends behind.’
Tess could have kicked herself. By the look on Heather’s face, not having children wasn’t her decision. Infertility problems? Neil not want them? Sad, whatever the reason. She judged Heather to be in her forties so it was too late now.
‘It was. I was twelve and about to start my second year at grammar school so it hit me harder than Clive in junior school. I’m thinking about coming back now I’ve inherited my aunt’s house, but it’s a big decision.’
Heather smiled, lifting her glass.
‘Well, I’ll drink to that. Would be lovely to have you as a neighbour, although I’d imagine it needs a lot of work. I’ve only ever been in the hall but...’ she shrugged.
‘It’s awful and I was beginning to think I might be mad to consider it. But, now I’ve seen your house I can see it could be equally as gorgeous. Depending on the cost.’ Tess pursed her lips. The million dollar question. ‘How did you get on with my aunt? She was pretty much a recluse, wasn’t she?’
‘Yes, I hardly ever saw her outside the house. She managed to walk down to the supermarket until about a year ago, then her legs got worse and I and another neighbour would buy her groceries for her. Before that, she wouldn’t accept any help from anyone. Fiercely independent. To be honest,’ Heather hesitated, ‘when we moved in, I was unhappy about having such an...eccentric old lady next door. She was rumoured to be a bit,’ she twirled a finger at her head, ‘but she was one of the sanest people I’ve met. Eccentric and reclusive, yes, but on the ball. Not that we talked a great deal in the early years, just the occasional greeting as we met in the street.’
‘What changed?’
Heather topped up their glasses and Tess relaxed back in the chair, happy to learn more about Doris.
‘Old age, really. She became so frail and had to sleep downstairs, only managing the steps down to the kitchen and the old loo. I had noticed Doris hadn’t been out for a while so popped round and was shocked by how thin she was. She admitted not being able to shop anymore so I took round a cooked meal and some essentials like bread and milk. When she was a bit stronger she came round for a cup of tea and cake and she would talk to me about the past.’ Heather bit her lips. ‘I became quite fond of her, she reminded me of my late grandmother. People of that age have such stories to tell, don’t they?’
Tess nodded.
‘Did Doris ever mention the family connection to Victor Hugo?’
‘Oh, yes. Exciting stuff, if it’s true. Fancy being the whatever-great-granddaughter of such a famous man!’ She laughed.
‘Not everyone in the family believes it and, to be honest, I’m not convinced until I see some proof. That’s the scientist in me talking. The romantic part is happy to daydream. We know Eugénie did work for Hugo, so that part’s true. It’s whether or not, you know...’ Tess grinned.
‘Well, he was a bit of a skirt chaser, by all accounts, even though his mistress lived a few doors down from us. You’ve seen it, I suppose? Le Faerie?’
‘Yes, Doris told me. She thought it hugely amusing that the two “mistresses” should live so close to each other.’ Glancing at a nearby clock, Tess saw it was nearly five thirty and guessed Neil would soon be home. ‘I should go, but could I see the rest of the house first? To help visualise what mine could become.’ She drained her glass and stood.
‘Of course, and you must pop back before you leave.’ Heather led the way downstairs to a modern, glossy kitchen which segued into a conservatory, bringing light and airiness into what, Tess was only too well aware, would have been a dark and depressing space. After admiring this, and the immaculate garden laid to lawn and shrubs, and bursting with spring flowers, they went upstairs to the bedroom floor. Again, the layout was the same as next door, but beautifully decorated and furnished and somehow an en suite had been squeezed in to the master bedroom. By the time they arrived at the top floor, the old attics, Tess was considering what she could copy in her own house. Her head buzzed with ideas. There were two bedrooms on the top floor, sharing a small shower-room, and with even more far-reaching views over the sea and islands than the other floors.
‘This is amazing, Heather. Your home is gorgeous and it makes me feel more positive about doing up mine. At the moment it’s in dire need of fresh air and a clear-out and not suitable for visitors let alone occupation,’ Tess said, as they returned to the downstairs hall.
‘I’d imagined it would be as poor Doris was almost bed-bound near the end.’ She sighed. ‘Not the way to go, is it?’
Tess shook her head. ‘No, but I do appreciate all you did for her. It was kind of you.’
‘No problem. Now, remember to call round, won’t you? More wine and cake,’ Heather said, with a grin.
‘Will do.’
They parted on the doorstep and Tess strode uphill towards the hotel, giving Hauteville House a wistful look. Maybe, if she were to take up residence in what had been Eugénie’s home, she would discover what really happened between her and Hugo. If anything had.