‘A long time ago, my aunt, Solange, tried to talk to me about you and Christien and how accidents happen and how we must forgive and go on with our lives, but I was too stubborn and full of self-pity to listen.’ Matilde Laroche’s guilt was etched in her troubled face.
Tabby urged the older woman to sit down.
‘Henri always drove very fast,’ she confided. ‘Far too fast to stop in the event of an accident.’
As the silence stretched Tabby gathered her courage and began talking too. ‘That night my father had a dreadful argument with my stepmother over dinner. She stormed out of the restaurant and caught a taxi back to the farmhouse.’
‘So that was why your father’s wife wasn’t in his car when it crashed.’ Slowly, Matilde shook her head. ‘I always wondered about that.’
‘I’m not making any excuses for Dad but I would like you to know that, until that holiday, I had never seen him drinking to excess,’ Tabby said in a quiet voice. ‘Dad had remarried very soon after my own mother’s death. That summer he was very unhappy. He and my stepmother weren’t getting on and I think he turned to alcohol because he realised that his second marriage had been a terrible mistake.’
‘Was he happy with your mother?’
‘Very…’ Tabby’s eyes watered. ‘They were always talking and teasing each other. He went to pieces when she died. I think he rushed into marriage with Lisa because he was lonely and he couldn’t cope-’
‘I was like that after Henri went,’ Matilde muttered unsteadily and she patted Tabby’s hand as if in gratitude for her honesty. ‘I couldn’t cope either, and since then my grief has been my life. When I saw Jake, I understood that life had gone on without me and that I had caused those closest to me a lot of unhappiness that they did not deserve.’
‘You really don’t mind about Jake, do you?’
Matilde Laroche studied her in amazement. ‘Why would I mind? He is a wonderful child and I am overjoyed that he has been born.’
‘Christien has taken Jake out this morning,’ Tabby revealed.
The older woman stood up. ‘I would not like to intrude by being here when they return. But I am sure you have already guessed that, if you are generous enough to allow it, I would be very happy to have the opportunity to become better acquainted with you and my grandson.’
Tabby grinned. ‘We’d be happy too.’
‘Will you tell my son about what happened yesterday?’
‘No. I think it’s bad for Christien to know absolutely everything,’ Tabby heard herself admitting, before it occurred to her that such facetiousness might not go down well with his parent.
But Matilde’s gaze had taken on a surprised but appreciative gleam of answering amusement and she chuckled as she took her leave of Tabby.
As the morning wore on, and there was still no sign of Christien and Jake reappearing, Tabby became more and more jumpy. She told herself that it was a nonsense to imagine that Christien would have taken off with their son just to teach her a hard lesson, but her imagination was lively and her conscience too uneasy to give her peace. It was noon before she heard a car pulling up and she rushed to the door.
Sheathed in black denim jeans that fitted him like a second skin and a trendy shirt, Christien swung out of a scarlet Aston Martin V8 and scooped Jake out of the car seat fixed in the rear. Tabby’s jaw dropped. Last seen, her three-year-old son had been the possessor of a cute mop of black curls. Since then he had had a severe run-in with a barber and not a curl was to be seen.
‘What have you done to him?’ Tabby heard herself yelp accusingly.
Christien angled a look of pure challenge at her. ‘I trashed the girlie hairstyle…you might not have noticed but boys aren’t wearing pretty curls this season.’
‘It looked girlie,’ Jake told his mother slowly but carefully, and he even pronounced it just as his father must have done complete with French accent. Her little boy then carefully arranged himself in the exact same posture as his unrepentant father.
‘Girlie is in the eye of the beholder,’ Tabby remarked.
‘Girlie is girlie,’ Christien contradicted.
Christien, she understood, was staking possession on his son and ready, even eager, to fight any attempt to suggest that he might have overreached his new parental boundaries. But, grateful for their return and blessed with great tolerance, Tabby was willing to overlook Christien’s current aggressive aura for the sake of peace. She surveyed the two males who owned her heart with helpless appreciation. She missed her son’s curls but had to admit that the cropped style was much more boyish. Christien? Christien looked irresistibly sexy and fanciable. Her mouth ran dry. Her breathing quickened. Involuntarily she remembered how she had felt on that sofa and her knees quivered and her face burned with mortification over her own weakness.
‘What time did you get up this morning?’ Tabby enquired, dredging her attention from him.
‘Jake woke up at seven and I took him out for breakfast. Lock up,’ Christien urged. ‘I want to take you for a drive.’
Tabby did as she was asked and climbed into the passenger seat of the powerful car. ‘Where else did you go this morning?’
‘Daddy showed me his cars. I got little cars and he’s got big cars,’ Jake volunteered chirpily.
Jake was already calling Christien Daddy and he said it with such pronounced pride. From the corner of her eye, Tabby watched Christien’s handsome mouth curve with eloquent satisfaction. Evidently the morning had been spent in a male bonding session composed of laddish haircuts and car talk. Tabby did not begrudge them their mutual appreciation. She was delighted that they had got on so well.