Alexandra was so surprised she couldn’t speak for a few moments. Penelope was so entrenched in her part as a French grande dame, she would hardly admit she wasn’t French. Now she was talking about being homesick, and wanting to go for a walk with the nanny. Somewhere, Alexandra imagined, hell had frozen over. Or, she thought, remembering what Jack had told her, perhaps she wanted to talk about her love life? This thought was even less likely than a sudden cold snap in hell!
Milou was on his best behaviour and followed the two Englishwomen meekly. Penelope didn’t speak as they walked down the path through a neglected but still pretty walled garden that would have produced vegetables for the chateau at one time but now held only a few roses covering the walls and beds of salvias, rosemary and lavender.
‘You must be delighted that Lucinda has come back from Argentina,’ said Alexandra when she could stand the silence no longer. They had left the garden and taken one of the paths that led into the wood.
Penelope nodded. ‘Yes and no. It is lovely for me to have her, but I don’t think she understands the children, having been away from them for so long.’
‘Oh?’ Alexandra concentrated on sounding non-committal.
‘She loves her own children, of course, but she doesn’t pay attention to la p’tite.’
‘Stéphie?’
Penelope nodded. ‘Lucinda is an only child and doesn’t understand jealousy. Not that Stéphie is ever jealous, but it’s hard for her to see her siblings – even if technically they are not her siblings – being given attention and gifts when she is not.’
‘I have tried to make sure she doesn’t feel left out,’ said Alexandra. Although I’m an only child too, she thought but didn’t say.
‘Yes! And I am truly grateful. You’ve worked very hard for the children and I do appreciate it.’ They walked on in silence for a bit longer. ‘You know, I had a sister who had a godmother who used to give her lavish presents. I understood that this godmother was special to my sister but it was hard. The pretty dresses from Harrods, the special Easter egg, wonderful crayons – I remember once I couldn’t bear it and burst into tears. I was so ashamed.’
‘That’s dreadful!’ Alexandra was stricken on her behalf.
‘My mother couldn’t do anything about it. It was a fact of my life. But I hate to think that little Stéphie might be feeling like I felt.’
‘Well, I gave her an antique doll’s stove that really works with little pots and pans that she loves. David and Jack are both aware of her possibly being left out too.’ Alexandra took a breath, hoping Penelope would be reassured by this, and went on, ‘But I feel the person who is suffering most is Félicité. She loves her sister, and she knows she must feel left out. The other day, when Lucinda took them shopping, Félicité bought Stéphie a dress. She must have been given the money by her mother, but I was so pleased with her thoughtfulness.’
‘I’m glad to hear that, too,’ said Penelope. ‘Lucinda didn’t tell me. We don’t always communicate very well.’
There was another quite long silence as they walked through the woods. Alexandra was enchanted by the changing colours but she was waiting for Penelope to carry on. She could tell she had more to say.
‘I have lived in France for a very long time. In many ways I am French,’ Penelope said.
‘Can I ask why you came to France?’
‘I had come here before the war, with a friend’s family. We had a wonderful holiday. I knew it would be quite different after the war, but my parents had gone to live near my brother and I wanted a complete change of scene. And I thought it would be good for Lucinda to become bilingual, and spread her wings a bit after spending the war at boarding school in England.’ She laughed. ‘She’d read so many stories about English boarding schools – too many possibly – that my parents had given her, she was convinced she wanted to go too.’
‘It must have been hard, going to a country where you knew no one. I at least had the children for company when I came here.’
‘It was hard, although having Lucinda helped. A neighbour – a friend of Hortense – took me under her wing. She had a daughter the same age as Lucinda and introduced me to her friends. It was through her that I met my second husband – you’ll know that I lost him too …’ She fell silent for a moment, and Alexandra heard the echo of grief. ‘That’s also how Lucinda met Antoine. Rosemarie was an Anglophile, which is partly why she was so kind, but she made sure I learnt French as quickly as possible. I felt her loss when she moved to Paris.’
The story sounded convincing, and yet Alexandra knew there was more. She was tense, wondering if Penelope would continue to be confiding or revert to being the starchy grande dame Alexandra had first met.
They had walked through the edge of the wood and come across a path that led back to the chateau.
‘You may be wondering why I’m talking to you, instead of Hortense, whom I’ve known for nearly twenty years. I’m wondering why myself.’ She smiled. ‘But Hortense has always known me as an upright pillar of the community. I could never reveal to her that I wasn’t always upright or a pillar.’
Alexandra laughed at Penelope’s little joke but inside she braced herself. This was about Jack; she was sure of it. Could she tell Penelope that she knew something of her story? Then she realised that she couldn’t.
‘You’re too young to know what love is but when you do fall in love you will feel that your love is the only thing that matters. Nothing else is important. You will be wrong – as I was wrong – but you will feel that just the same.’
Alexandra did feel she knew what love was but certainly wasn’t going to confide in Penelope about her feelings for Antoine. She was going to suppress them completely. She was determined that no one should know about them – least of all Antoine.
‘It is likely that, like most people, you will come to a place in your life when you have a choice. You can choose the safe, comfortable route that will give you security and possibly happiness. Or you can choose passion and risk losing everything you have built up for years.’ Penelope seemed to hold her breath for ages until she slowly exhaled.
Alexandra waited as long as she could. ‘Which is the right choice?’
‘I wish I knew, chérie. I am middle-aged but I’m not sure I shall ever have the necessary wisdom to decide between head and heart.’
Alexandra cleared her throat. She was suffering a similar dilemma: her head said, leave the chateau, forget all about Antoine; and her heart said, stay as long as she possibly could. She was very surprised to find herself in the same situation as Penelope.
