chapter 10

Nicole stepped forward, feeling as nervous as when she’d first seen Hélène at the airport.

‘Hello, Mrs Ferbrache. I’m Nicole.’

The old lady looked up from her wheelchair, positioned by the window.

Nicole found herself staring at a birdlike face framed by thin white hair, cut unflatteringly short. The hazel eyes appeared to look straight through her, the mouth a small splash of red lipstick surrounded by pale, wrinkled skin.

‘So, you’re my granddaughter, are you? I suppose it’s about time that we met.’ The slash of red opened up into a smile and a stick thin arm came out towards her.

Nicole grasped the proffered hand. It felt dry and cold but the grip was firm.

Hélène moved forward and bent down to place a light kiss on her mother’s head before saying, ‘Would you like some tea, Mother?’

Mrs Ferbrache looked between the two women standing over her.

‘That would be nice. Although I think champagne would be more appropriate to the occasion, eh?’

Nicole saw the glint of mischief in the old lady’s eyes. Glancing towards Hélène she noticed that her mother looked flustered.

‘Champagne? I’m not sure if…’

‘Don’t worry. Tea will be fine. Is there any cake?’ Mrs Ferbrache turned towards Nicole. ‘I do like cake. Don’t you?’

‘Yes. If you have some…’

Hélène became brisk.

‘Of course we have cake, Mother. I never let us run out, as you well know. I’ll go and make the tea.’ She hurried out of the room, catching Nicole’s eye in passing. Her raised eyebrows and pursed lips said it all. Nicole turned her attention to the old lady. Her grandmother.

‘Well, girl, you’d better sit down. Towering over me like that.’ The old lady watched as Nicole settled herself in a nearby armchair. Two pairs of hazel eyes appraised each other. My grandmother’s probably shocked, and perhaps angry, that Hélène hadn’t told her about me. I wonder if that’s why she’s sharp with her?

Nicole felt awkward. She’d only just met her natural mother for the first time and now she was presented with a grandmother! And one who clearly liked to stir things with her daughter. She was beginning to wish that she had not agreed to come here when the old lady spoke.

‘Cat got your tongue? I don’t bite, you know.’ Eve thrust her head forward.

‘Maybe not but you were a bit hard on Hélène just now, weren’t you? Do you enjoy teasing her?’ Nicole was surprised at her own temerity. But she could sympathise with Hélène who had given up her independence for this small, sharp woman.

Eve looked taken aback, speechless. Then she let out a chuckle.

‘Ah, so who’s the sharp one now, eh? Good. I like people who can stand up for themselves. Or others. Hélène…well, she seems to have lost that.’

‘Are you surprised? She’s had to give up a lot to care for you. And I don’t think she’s been happy for many years.’

Eve looked shaken, as if what she’d said struck home.

‘So, young lady, you think you know us already, do you?’ Eve’s compressed lips seemed to Nicole to express the old lady’s anger at her forwardness. She was beginning to regret her remark when Hélène pushed open the door, wheeling an old-fashioned trolley laden with the accoutrements of afternoon tea.

‘Here we are, Mother. I’ve got your favourites, chocolate cake and Victoria sponge. Have you two been getting to know each other?’ Hélène looked warily at the two women facing each other.

‘I-’ Nicole began.

‘You could say that we’re beginning to understand each other,’ Eve cut in.

‘Oh, well. That’s good.’ Hélène searched Nicole’s face for a hint of what had passed between them, but Nicole just shrugged. It was clear that Hélène’s nerves were strung tight by the way the cups rattled on the saucers as she poured the tea. Nicole was beginning to feel as if she was at a Mad Hatter’s Tea Party, half expecting a rabbit – or was it a dormouse? ˗ to pop out of the tea pot. It was surreal.

Hélène gazed at her with a look suspiciously like that of a mother proud of something her child has accomplished. Just as Mary had done. Such as when she’d got good exam results or wore her first ball gown. It felt weird.

Eve began what sounded like an inquisition. Nicole, hoping it wouldn’t last long, responded with a potted history of her life, ending with the admission that she had recently split from her husband.

Until that moment Eve had been nodding approvingly at Nicole’s story but now she looked up sharply.

‘Why have you left him? Have you met someone else?’ Her tone was cold.

‘No, I haven’t, but Tom…well, he’s been unfaithful and it’s happened too many times.’ Nicole’s voice caught on a sob.

‘Humph. In that case you’re better off without him. I’ve no time for married men who can’t keep it in their trousers.’ Eve looked pointedly at Hélène who flushed.

Nicole understood what had happened and replied, ‘I know that my father was married. Hélène’s told me her story. I think we’d all agree that he wasn’t honourable. Like my own husband.’

Eve’s sharp gaze settled on Nicole.

‘Well, young lady, I can see that you and I are going to get along just fine,’ she said, a smile hovering on the wrinkled face.

Nicole smiled back, beginning to warm to her.

Hélène, looking drained, reminded Nicole that they needed to leave for the airport.

Nicole stood up and leant towards Eve, not sure whether to offer her hand or attempt a hug. Eve made the decision for her by offering her own hand and when Nicole shook it she clasped her other hand on top.

‘I look forward to seeing you again. Soon, I hope.’

Nicole caught the twinkle in her eyes and smiled back.

‘Well, I’ll have to see…’

Hélène led the way out to the car but before switching on the ignition, she turned to Nicole and asked if she really wanted to return.

Nicole took in the strain on Hélène’s face and reassured her that it was what she wanted.

‘I’ve only just met you both and it’s been…a lot to take in. But it would be good if we could all be…friends. It’s just a question of time. Time to get to know each other. My mother and my grandmother!’