After she had hung up, Angelica sat gazing out over the estuary. Her spirits had soared up there with the gulls, and she felt as if her heart would burst with happiness. Right now she loved who she was. She felt deliciously wicked, a femme fatale, capable of doing anything she wanted, as if the world turned for her and her alone. She took off her woolly hat and ran along the sand, arms outstretched like a bird. She relished the sensation of letting herself go. The wind swept in from the sea, cold against her skin, raking rough fingers through her hair. Laughter bubbled up from her belly, and she released it into the air with the furious squawking of seagulls, their breakfast interrupted. She didn’t feel guilty and she didn’t sense danger. She rode the wind without a care for those on the ground.
18
Move with the current, it is resisting the flow that causes problems.
In Search of the Perfect Happiness
Angelica and Olivier accompanied the family to church. Joe and Isabel mucked about with their cousins, giggling at the vicar’s booming voice, whispering loudly about the dandruff on the collar of the old man in front, until they had to be split up. Daisy smiled apologetically, aware that she was in God’s house, where resentment had no place, and Angelica smiled back, relieved that her outburst had caused her sister to be contrite.
She dreaded lunch and present giving. Daisy would apologize for not being generous, then make Angelica feel guilty for spending so much. Her nephews and nieces would wait impatiently for her gifts, which were always more exciting than their mother’s: another gripe Daisy would add to her long list of resentments. Joe and Isabel were always given things they didn’t want and had to thank their aunt through gritted teeth, whining later to their mother, who always left hers and Olivier’s gifts until last, for that very reason.
Later Olivier and Angelica would take the children for a walk with Daisy and her three. Once out of the house things would improve. The sea air would sweep away their irritation, the sight of the horizon draw them out of themselves, and at last they’d manage to discuss their parents, the shared horror being the only thing they really had in common. Sometimes Daisy and Angelica could laugh together at Angie and Denny’s expense, but more often they couldn’t. Daisy hadn’t escaped like Angelica had; like it or not, Daisy needed them.
By the time Olivier packed up the car, the suitcases having been in the hall since breakfast, Angelica was desperate to leave. She was even looking forward to staying in Provence with Olivier’s ghastly mother and sisters. At least with them she could detach—they weren’t her family. Unlike Daisy, Marie-Louise and Marie-Celeste were extravagant and spoiled and grumpy in the way only the French can be. Olivier’s mother, Marie-Amalie, worshipped her son, treating him like a prodigal prince, elbowing Angelica out of the way as if she were an unwelcome appendage and not his wife. Olivier adored his mother, which blinded him to her faults, leaving Angelica alone with her gruff but delightful father-in-law, Leonard, which was where she was entirely happy to be.
During that week Angelica called Jack more frequently than ever. The texts flew back and forth, giving her a vital lifeline to hold on to while Olivier sat chatting to his mother, and his sisters bitched about their friends beside the fire in the coldly elegant drawing room. Sharing her stories with Jack enabled her to see the funny side of her situation. She enjoyed hearing him laugh down the line as she imitated Marie-Louise snorting disapproval and Marie-Amalie chastising her for writing books when she should be seeing to her husband’s needs. “It is not right for a woman to work when she has a husband to look after,” she said. “And anyway, who reads them?”
Jack’s laugh was satisfyingly loud. “I do,” he said. “I’ve just finished The Silk Serpent and loved it. Even better than The Caves of Cold Konard. Tell her that!”
“I think you’re my biggest fan.”
“You know I’m your biggest fan! I think you need rescuing, darling.”
“It’ll be over soon, and life will go back to normal.”
“I think you should take a stand. No more in-laws. You didn’t marry them when you married Olivier.”
“You want to bet?”
“Don’t be afraid to speak your mind. At worst you’ll just offend them; at best you’ll offend them so much you won’t ever have to see them again.”
“I love my father-in-law—he makes it bearable.”
“Don’t let them walk all over you, Angelica. You’re far too nice.”
“I’m learning to be nasty.”
“Just keep your boundaries strong. Don’t let them break through. And smile as if you know something they don’t. It always works. A little secretive smile always does the trick!”