Dr. Heyworth took her hand and squeezed it. “She’s fine, Antoinette. Trust me, she has many years left in her.”
At last they reached the folly. Antoinette took a deep breath and pushed open the door. There, sitting on the sofas and chairs around the fire, were Margaret, Reverend Morley, David, and Phaedra.
Antoinette put her hand to her heart. “You’re all right, Margaret!” she sighed, wanting to cry with relief.
“Of course I’m all right,” Margaret retorted from the armchair. “But you’re not. Come and sit down, dear, and let me explain.”
Antoinette stared in bewilderment at David and Phaedra, sitting together on the sofa. David had shaved, but that wasn’t the only thing that made him look different. He was happy. Very, very happy. Reverend Morley stood up at once and offered Antoinette the armchair beside the fire. She sat down gratefully and watched Dr. Heyworth find a chair and pull it up between the sofa and Margaret. Reverend Morley perched on the club fender.
“Yesterday you were dying, Margaret. Now here you are with David and Phaedra. What’s going on?” Antoinette noticed that Phaedra looked smaller than before, her narrow shoulders as thin as coat hangers in her olive-green cardigan. But her face was radiant and her cheeks as pink as crab apples; only her eyes betrayed a certain apprehension. She glanced at Antoinette then hastily looked away.
“Well, frankly, I’m bored of watching my family mope around as if the sun has packed up and gone away. I missed Phaedra, too, and being a selfish woman, I wanted her back as much for myself as for everyone else. Roberta was my partner in crime. She remembered that Phaedra had been house-sitting for a friend and took it upon herself, without any encouragement from me, to go round and ask for a forwarding address. It was very simple. She then called me and gave me the address on rue de Longchamps. Well, we both knew that David can be stubborn. He didn’t think Phaedra would want to see him, so I had to put on an act.”
Antoinette looked horrified. “That was an act?”
“Yes, I didn’t realize quite how good I was. Perhaps I should have been an actress.” She glanced at Reverend Morley. “I’m sorry I put you all through that, but I had no choice. Isn’t it wonderful that I’m so well!”
“So poor David thought you were dying, too?” Antoinette turned to her son, who shrugged carelessly, as if it had been nothing.
“Let’s just say I wasn’t totally convinced. She was a little too energetic for a dying person,” he reassured her.
“But off you went, dutifully, to bring Phaedra back.” Margaret smiled triumphantly. “And that’s exactly what you did. Now, I know this was very underhanded, Antoinette, and you’re probably very cross with me for going behind your back. But I’m old and wise, and I know better than you do what’s good for you. I know you missed Phaedra as much as the rest of us, and you’re never going to do the farm shop on your own. I want to be alive to enjoy those piglets.”
Phaedra risked a glance at Antoinette. She wasn’t sure George’s wife would forgive her. David had promised her she would, explaining that time had allowed Antoinette to gain some perspective and, consequently, a little understanding. Phaedra still hadn’t been certain, however, and David had had to work hard to persuade her to come home with him. Deep down, Antoinette needed her, he had said, even if she hadn’t the vision to see it yet. Now Phaedra looked at her fearfully.
If Antoinette had been asked the day before how she would feel were she suddenly faced with Phaedra, she would have declared that mentally she wasn’t ready to forgive. However, it is one thing to think coldly from one’s head and quite another to think warmly from one’s heart. Now that the two women were together in the same room, Antoinette felt her heart swell with compassion. She stood up and walked over to Phaedra, propelled by an impulse that had little to do with thought. She reached out and drew her up from the sofa. Without hesitation, she enveloped her tightly. “I’m glad you’re home,” she said softly, feeling Phaedra’s childlike frame and the trembling that ran through it. Phaedra’s tears seeped into Antoinette’s shirt. She rested her head on her shoulder and closed her eyes. The two women embraced for a long moment. Antoinette didn’t need to explain, because forgiveness was in her gesture and in the words she whispered for only Phaedra to hear.
“Right, well, I’m glad it’s all worked out,” said Margaret. She narrowed her eyes and registered the tender expression on Dr. Heyworth’s face as he watched Antoinette. “Looks like it’s just you and me now, Reverend,” she added to the vicar, who momentarily looked a little nervous. “I think a call to Harris for some supplies wouldn’t go amiss,” she added, pulling her mobile telephone out of her pocket. “What does everyone want?”