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‘WHAT!’ CHARLOTTE LOOKED over Tess’s shoulder, seeing neatly written French lines of poetry, she translated the first few:
Oh, why not be happy this bright summer day,
'Mid perfume of roses and newly-mown hay?
Great Nature is smiling—the birds in the air
Sing love-lays together, and all is most fair.
Then why not be happy
This bright summer day,
'Mid perfume of roses
And newly-mown hay?
There were two more verses and it was titled Oh, why not be happy, Eugénie? and signed, with a flourish, Victor Hugo.
They looked at each other and laughed.
‘It gets better and better! I can hardly wait to see what their reaction is at Hauteville House. And there’s still the diaries,’ Charlotte said, shaking her head in bemusement.
‘Yes, I’m planning to read some each day and make notes of the more important entries. It’ll take ages, though, having to translate it as I read.’ Tess knew she had to be patient, but it was hard after the excitement of the wonderful finds. In a way, it no longer mattered to her whether or not Eugénie and Hugo had been lovers and she was descended from their union. She now had ample proof that they had been close and she could be proud of that connection. As she began returning the precious items to the boxes, Charlotte interrupted her thoughts.
‘With your permission, I’d be happy to help with the diaries. I could do what you suggest and write notes of relevant entries to save you time. And I hope you know you could trust me implicitly not to tell anyone what I read.’
Tess jumped at the idea.
‘That’s kind of you, and it would save so much time. As long as you’re sure? Could be a bit tedious reading of Victorian day to day occupations, particularly in French.’
‘You forget I’m a writer and used to research in French. I can fit it in around James’s naps and it will be good to keep my brain from atrophying. Really, you’d be doing me a favour,’ Charlotte said, laughing.
‘On that happy note, I’m due to have lunch at Colette’s and must be off. If you want to make a start on the diaries, feel free. Although I began reading the 1862 entries I didn’t make notes so that might be a good place to start. Or earlier if you like.’ Tess gave her friend a hug and left, a spring in her step from the morning’s discoveries. Time now to catch up with her old school friend and her baby.
Two hours later Tess left Colette’s house full of delicious homemade soup and memories of time spent cuddling baby Rosie. Colette looked to have settled into motherhood well, in spite of lack of sleep, and Rosie, she said, was a contented baby. Tess was inclined to put that down to Colette’s obvious contentment and joy in her baby and was showing signs of becoming a true earth mother, happy to be surrounded by children while preparing nourishing meals in the kitchen.
Tess detoured to the surgery, thinking it politic to check in with the practice manager now she had arrived. The meeting went well and, seeing the surgery again, brought back to Tess how much she was looking forward to taking up her role as a GP. There was no rush or melodrama, simply patients waiting quietly for their appointment. Tess knew there would be heartache and pain beneath the surface for some, but felt well qualified to cope. For a brief moment the image of a deadly pale Gary laid out on a trolley flashed into her head and she had to bite her lip, praying she wouldn’t have to deal with something like that again. Back in her car, Tess drove down towards the Halfway junction and right into Vale Road, planning to drive towards L’Islet and the road along the west coast, keen to have some sea air blow through the windows. As she reached Le Grande Havre bay and caught sight of the kiosk she had a sudden desire for an ice cream and pulled in to the car park. Minutes later she was perched on the sand, licking the ice cream and gazing out to sea. Yes, this was the life she wanted. This was home.
‘Hi, Tess, did you enjoy your lunch?’ Charlotte greeted her as she walked into the conservatory, to find her friend on the floor playing with a giggling James.
‘Yes, it was lovely, thanks. And little Rosie is absolutely adorable. Colette sends her love and invites us all round for lunch on Sunday, together with Nick and Jeanne. Should be fun,’ Tess said, flopping onto the floor beside James. He offered her a bright red brick to place on the tower he was building and as she did so it promptly collapsed, and James dissolved into laughter.
‘Gosh, that’s brave of her to have us all round so soon. I could barely rouse myself to make a slice of toast three weeks after this little imp was born.’ She tickled her son who laughed so much he began hiccupping.
Tess didn’t voice her thought that Colette being ten years younger than Charlotte may play a part, instead saying how much she looked forward to meeting more of the gang of friends.
‘You’ll like them and their children, Harry and Freya. Jeanne will be absolutely fascinated to hear about your family history and what you’ve found. Unless you want to keep it a secret?’ Charlotte said, trying to soothe James’s hiccups.
‘I’m sure I can trust them to be discreet and I’ve already told Colette, who always knew about the family connection to Hugo. Have you had a chance to look at the diaries?’
Charlotte nodded, releasing James to wander off in search of a new toy.
‘I began at the beginning and it’s so sad to read how happy the couple were, all sorts of plans for the future when Arnaud finally left the sea...’ Tess listened intently as Charlotte recounted what she had read. Images of the young married couple filled her head and made her sad.
‘How far did you get?’
‘I read most of the first volume and, to be honest, much was not that interesting and have made notes of the more important parts. Women had no lives outside the home, particularly with absent husbands. I would have gone spare, wouldn’t you?’
‘Absolutely. The more I learn about life for nineteenth-century women the more I thank heaven I was born in the twentieth. It’s possible poor Eugénie may not have lost her baby if that had happened now. And she was lucky to pull through herself.’ Tess sat back on her heels, watching James as he presented his mother with a toy car. They were both glowing with health, the picture contrasting painfully with the image Eugénie had conjured up in her diary of her miscarriage and slow recovery. The two women glanced at each other, sharing a common thought.
‘In the diary Eugénie says she will never consider having another child. But she must have, or I wouldn’t be here. I can’t wait to find out what happened to change her mind, assuming she did have a choice. Oh, there’s so much I don’t know!’
‘Don’t worry, all will be revealed I’m certain. Although the diaries and the other items were hidden, something tells me Eugénie wanted someone to know her story. Otherwise why write the diaries, or if having written them, why not destroy them? And, before I forget, I spoke to Stéphanie Duluc this afternoon and she’s happy to meet tomorrow morning before the house is open to the public. She sounded suitably excited at the mention of Hugo artefacts. I’d love to come along, too, if that’s all right?’
‘Of course. We can take a box of the most important items. Did you do all your research at Hauteville House?’
‘No, I spent a lot of time at Priaulx library initially, they have a fantastic collection of books about Hugo and his family. The librarians, like many islanders, are terribly proud of the Hugo connection and are extremely knowledgeable. It was one of them, Dinah Bott, who gave me the tip about talking to Stéphanie. I wouldn’t be surprised if your aunt spent a lot of time at the library over the years.’
‘I think she did, judging by some of the papers I found. I hope she isn’t turning in her grave at missing out on what’s been found.’ Tess frowned, knowing how obsessed Doris had been.
‘Maybe, in the great scheme of things, you were the descendant meant to find what Eugénie locked away. Who knows? I’m a great believer in nothing happening without a reason and inheriting the house has enabled you to make a fresh start in Guernsey, hasn’t it?’ Charlotte smiled at her.
‘You’re right; I might never have considered coming back otherwise.’ She stood and stretched her legs. ‘I’ll leave you to play while I go upstairs and read some more of the diary for 1862. Thought I’d make my own supper this evening, give you and Andy time together.’
‘You don’t have to, but thanks for the thought. See you later.’
Tess waved at a smiling James, who waved back, and collected the diary to take upstairs. It was no hardship to spend time in her guest suite and she was conscious of intruding on family life. And much as she enjoyed their company, she did like her own space. Tess settled into a comfy chair with the diary, a mug of tea and a notebook and pad. Time to revisit the past.
A couple of hours later, Tess put the diary to one side and went into the tiny kitchen to make her planned supper of warm chicken salad accompanied with a glass of white wine. The tremendous concentration needed to translate from the French had left her wanting nothing more than to chill out in front of the television. It dawned on her that once she started work, the last thing she would want to do once she was home would be to read the diaries. It was great that Charlotte had offered to help and she might need her to do most of the reading. Finding the desk and the diaries had brought home to her how much she wanted – needed – to learn all about Eugénie and her life. Her other priority was to see the building work finished as soon as so she could move in and fully embrace her new life. Coming to that conclusion felt good. Then she remembered her father and picked up her mobile.
‘Hi, Dad, it’s me. How are you?’
‘Not too bad, love. I looked into coming over for a break, like I’d said. An old pal recommended a B & B and they had a vacancy next week for three nights, so I took it and booked my flights,’ he said, sounding cheerful.
‘That’s great, Dad, I look forward to showing you my house. Talking of which...’ she went on to tell him about the find in the attic and he sounded impressed and excited for her.
‘Your mother will be pig sick, though. Although she was sniffy about the family connection with old Hugo, she always expected to inherit the house, as you probably gathered. But I think Doris made the right choice in leaving it to you, love. She knew how much you loved Guernsey and that Elaine didn’t. Have you spoken to her lately?’
‘No, and I don’t plan to. Not yet, anyway. Has she phoned you?’
‘No. Probably just as well as it would only upset me and I’d rather have something nice to look forward to, like coming over to see you and my old mates.’
Tess made a note of his flight the following week and said she’d pick him up before signing off. It had been great to hear him sound more like his old self and she wondered if coming for a break would get him thinking about moving back. Something she would love.
James was once more left with Mrs B and Tess and Charlotte set off to Town, their appointment with Stéphanie Duluc arranged for nine o’clock. The traffic at that time of the morning was the usual nightmare and they arrived with only minutes to spare. The meeting went well and Hugo’s archived handwriting was compared to items Tess had brought along and declared a match.
‘And here’s a photo of the desk belonging to Eugénie. We were wondering if it may have been a gift from Monsieur Hugo.’ Tess handed it to Stéphanie who agreed to check the records for the 1860s, commenting it looked French and from the right era. The painting of Eugénie and Juliette was also declared to be genuine.
Goodbyes were shared and they left, Tess smiling broadly.
‘Well that went well. I was half afraid she would say they were fakes and I was the victim of a hoax,’ Tess said, clutching the box of precious items as they walked down the road towards St Michel.
‘I always believed they were genuine, but that’s because I had access to Hugo’s work at Hauteville. Do you want to check on the building work while we’re here?’
Tess nodded, locked the box in the boot of the car and led the way into her house. They had barely stepped in the door when a loud crash, followed by a resounding yell of pain, came from upstairs. A white face peered over the bannisters, shouting, ‘Please help, there’s been an accident.’