“I’ll never forget when she started working onThe Lights of Trafalgar. She had been working in the London theater scene for a year, but nothing huge had panned out yet. And for myself, I learned fast that my hopes of being an actress were no more than pipe dreams. Anyways, she was writing one night, and she was so quiet and serene. Alarmingly so. Usually, she wrote with a very particular environment—radio on low, no TV and certainly no talking. She would mutter lines or thoughts to herself out loud, but that night she was dead silent.”
Isabelle pauses, and I’m not sure if it’s for dramatic effect or if it’s because she’s reliving the memory for herself. “She went at it for hours and then suddenly, just like that, she turned off the light and climbed into her bed. After a minute, I asked her how it went and she said it was a disaster, but it was going to be the play that made her. She had the title stuck in her head for ages, just waiting for the play to come to her. And that night, it did.”
“And the rest was history.”
“That it was.The Lights of Trafalgardidn’t come out right away, of course. She ended up working on it for several years before it was ready to be released to the world.”
“And were you still pursuing acting then?” I ask.
“Not really. The year she started writing it was the same year I decided to give up. Our family had a background in real estate, as I’m sure you know, so soon after that, I started moving in that direction as well.”
“And now you own one of the largest brokerages in London.”
“Yes, I’ve been very lucky. My husband has always been tremendously supportive, and my father helped me with a lot of very valuable connections in the beginning.” She smiles at me then, but it doesn’t reach her ears. It gives me pause, and I end up twisting my fingers together in my lap.
“Did you meet your husband through the theater?”
“Oh no,” she says, brightening back up a bit. “Freddie has worked in banking since I’ve known him and doesn’t have an artistic bone in his body. He tried as best he could, for my sake. He called me his little Bohemian, bringing a great burst of color to his otherwise gray life. He’s a very sweet man.”
“Did Juliette like him?” I decide to ask.
“She did for the most part. She gave him a tough time at first, calling him my shiny ball and accusing him of distracting me. But once she started seeing Paul, she eased up a bit.”
As she mentions Paul, a flash of nerves streaks Isabelle’s face, giving the impression that she feels she’s overstepped. I’m quick to try to put her mind at ease. “That’s understandable. Juliette told me about Paul the other day.”
“Did she? Well, I suppose that makes sense. They did almost end up getting married, after all.”
It’s difficult for me to hide my surprise at hearing that, but I somehow manage it as I simply nod, and Isabelle goes on.
“That was as close as she ever came to settling down. At least back then, anyways. I guess I wouldn’t really know what her love life looked like after that. Unfortunately, we fell out of touch once she left for New York.”
Still reeling from Isabelle’s bombshell revelation, I try to stay focused on the conversation at hand. “It was probably hard to maintain a close relationship with so much physical distance separating you both. Sometimes it’s hard for me to text a friend that lives twenty minutes away, and we can go months without seeing each other.”
Isabelle gives me an obliging grin. “I’d be willing to accept any form of a relationship with my sister at this point, but I know that won’t be possible until she decides to forgive me.”
Forgive her?
In ten minutes, Isabelle has revealed more insight into her dynamics with Juliette than Juliette has in the entire time I’ve been working for her. I want so badly to know more, hoping I could maybe help them in some way, but I don’t dare press any further. Isabelle seems appreciative as she sits up a bit and tries to lighten the mood.
“But, at least through it all, she always played a part in Liam’s life. She’d come see him when she was over here for work and she constantly sent him gifts and letters. He adores her. And he had no clue of the strain between us until he was much, much older. I guess that’s one perk of having roots in the theater. We were able to play the happy family for his sake whenever we needed to.”
I smile even though it’s underlined with sadness. Isabelle’s expression is the same.
“Anyways, never mind our family sagas. Tell me about you, Winnie. Are you having a nice time in London?”
Oh yes. And nearly shagging your son senseless last night has definitely been the highlight.
“I’m having a great time. I’ve never been to Europe before. The only time I was out of the country was to Canada, and my dad and I drove, so this is a big trip for me. Your sister is extremely generous.”
“Yes, I’m happy to report that she’s always been that way. And how long have you been working for her?”
“Five years,” I answer proudly. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”
“And when you’re with Juliette, fun is never in short supply.”
“Absolutely. In fact, maybe I’ll just shoot her a quick text to get a status update and to let her know you’re here so she...”
I don’t even finish my sentence before the apartment door swings open, and in walks Juliette with another woman I’ve never seen before. Juliette goes from smiling to frowning to forced smiling in two seconds flat as she takes in the scene with me and Isabelle.
