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The Woman from Paris(141)

By:Santa Montefiore


“You went to see Beecher?” Margaret was appalled.

David lifted his head out of his hands. “What a sick man he is.”

“In what way is he sick?” Dr. Heyworth asked.

“He’s got a massive wall of photos of Dad, like he was obsessed with him. It’s weird. I think he was jealous of Phaedra because she came between them. You know how close Dad and Julius were. Julius was like his shadow, always one step behind, but always there. Then after Dad died, he tried to have Phaedra for himself, as if he wanted to step into Dad’s shoes. Suddenly, there was the chance, through her, of becoming Dad, with a big fat bank balance and the Frampton Sapphires. It was too good an opportunity to miss. But she rejected him, as any girl of good sense and taste would, so he betrayed her.”

“You mean he sent the DVD on purpose, knowing it would expose Phaedra?” Antoinette exclaimed, looking at Dr. Heyworth. “I’m so naive.”

“There’s nothing wrong in believing the best of everyone. It’s an admirable quality, Antoinette,” said Dr. Heyworth gently.

“I’m not so sure,” she replied, lowering her eyes. “I’ve been much too trusting recently.”

“It doesn’t surprise me at all that that odious man sent the DVD on purpose, and it worked,” said Margaret. “What a weasel.”

“Well, he’s lost everything now, too. I don’t imagine anyone will employ him when they find out what he’s done.”

“He had already lost everything; that’s why he was so ready to bring Phaedra down with him,” said Margaret wisely. “A man commits professional suicide only when he’s got nothing more to lose.”

David shook his head regretfully. “I should have gone after her when she left. What an idiot I am! She was as much to be pitied as you, Mum. Really, I know I shouldn’t say that, and you won’t want to hear it, but I believe it’s true. She loved Dad, and he lied to her, as he lied to you. You both have more in common than you realize.” Antoinette listened but said nothing. She wasn’t ready to be so forgiving.

“I think we all need time to let the dust settle,” Margaret suggested diplomatically. “It’s been a terrible shock, and we all feel bitterly deceived. We can’t control what will happen in the future, and right now, I don’t think we’re ready to project. Que serà, serà, isn’t that what the Spanish say? What will be, will be. We all need something to do. We can’t mope about aimlessly like lost dogs.”

“This folly was my hobby,” said Antoinette mournfully. “But now it’s finished.”

“There’s always plenty to do in the gardens,” Dr. Heyworth suggested.

David rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “What about opening a farm shop?”

The suggestion appeared to come out of nowhere. Margaret and Antoinette looked at him in surprise. “I think that’s an inspired idea,” said Margaret. “I can’t imagine why we didn’t think of it before.”

“Where would we put it?” Antoinette asked.

“In one of the farm buildings. We’ve plenty of barns to choose from,” said David.

“There’s nothing like it anywhere near Fairfield,” Dr. Heyworth added enthusiastically. “It would be very popular.”

“We could have animals,” Antoinette suggested with mounting excitement. “Hens . . . and cows . . .”

“And pigs,” David added, thinking of Phaedra. “Piglets are very cute.”

Margaret narrowed her eyes. Cute wasn’t an English word or one that David would normally use. “I sense someone else’s fingerprints all over this idea,” she said.

“It’s Phaedra’s,” David confessed bashfully.

“It’s a good one,” said Dr. Heyworth. “At least I think so.”

“What else did she suggest?” Margaret asked.

“To open the park to the public.” David imagined that was one step too far for his grandmother, but she put her head on one side as if weighing up the pros and cons.

“It’s not such a bad idea. Fairfield is built to be admired and enjoyed.”

“We could open it during the summer only, for perhaps a couple of weeks or so,” said Antoinette brightly. “It would give Barry and me an incentive to make the gardens as wonderful as possible. There’s a lot more I’d like to do around the lake. I’d like to have ducks, for a start.”

“Ducks, Antoinette? I think you should have geese and swans,” Margaret remarked.

“Don’t swans belong to the queen?” said Dr. Heyworth.