Page 95 of One Last Thing
Françoise laughs as we witness Nico battle a string of seaweed that’s wrapped around his wrist before he throws it at Megan, who ducks under the water to escape it.
‘Nico is so confident when you come,’ she notes, her eyes fixed on the two of them. ‘He’s become quite shy, but he relaxes when your family arrive.’
‘I wonder why,’ I say, and the two of us share a knowing smile. ‘It’s lovely. Megan’s the same.’ Françoise raises her eyebrows in surprise, so I feel the need to embellish. ‘She’s . . . closed off now. Especially to me.’
‘That’s only natural.’
‘Yes, I know, but it’s different with Megan. I know this sounds strange, but I don’t think shelikesme much anymore.’ I shift in my seat. ‘She’s so close with her father. Her and Henry have such a special bond. Were you ever close with your dad?’
‘No,’ she says bluntly. ‘He wasn’t a very pleasant man. Often, I forgive my sister for things she’s done because I know she’s troubled and it all comes from him.’ She pauses, observing Nico playing in the water. ‘I only hope she grows up soon and gives that boy the home he deserves.’
‘Nico has you.’
She sighs. ‘I don’t think that’s enough. Still. It’s something.’ Reaching for her glass of wine, she looks over at me. ‘What about you? Are you close to your parents?’
‘Yes. As parents go, they’ve always been very relaxed and disorganised.’ I chuckle to myself as I think about how useless my parents are at anything domestic. ‘They’re chaotic and loving. Henry’s family are . . . different. But Henry, he is so adoring of Megan. He’s not good at expressing anything, but he lets her know that she is his world.’
‘You feel left out?’ Françoise attempts to determine.
‘No! Sometimes. But I wouldn’t want it to change,’ I explain badly. ‘Megan gets so worked up about tiny things. She worries about everything. Her work ethic is astonishing. I barely see her, she’s in so many teams and societies and all sorts at school. If I ever try to talk about any of it or show any concern, she snaps at me as though I think she can’t handle it. When I try to get her to have some fun, she tells me off for not taking her hobbies seriously.’ I sigh heavily, resting my hands in my lap. ‘But Henry has a way with her. She’s able to tell him things. I never say the right thing, but he handles her beautifully. I think it’s important that she knows he’s alwayson her side. I think that’s important to any teenager.’ I hesitate, before adding quietly, ‘Any grown-up, too.’
Françoise studies me. ‘She knows you’re on her side, too.’
‘She thinks we’re onoppositesides.’
‘A girl needs her mum as much as she needs her dad.’
I watch Megan wade through the water. ‘You’d think.’
The waiter comes over to ask if we’d like another drink and Françoise asks if he can bring over the cocktail menu. When I laugh at her request, she grins at me and says, ‘When we talk about real things like this, we need to have fun with the drinks at least.’
I tell her she has a point, before apologising for leading us into such a deep conversation and she leans over to pat my hand and say that all the best conversations are the deep ones. I make a joke about the seriousness of the topic when we’re in the middle of a beach bar with a DJ in the background and she responds by saying she thinks it’s the perfect setting because if things get too serious, we can always get up and dance, and we laugh together, both of us knowing that I may well do that but she never would.
When the waiter returns with the menu, I tell Françoise that now might be a good time for me to pop back to the chateau quickly because I can tell we’re (splendidly) settling in here for the rest of the afternoon and I have not only forgotten my purse, but also the sun cream, both of which I put out on the side earlier, yet still forgot to bring. She says she can cover both, but I insist on returning because I can check in on Henry at the same time. It’s only a five-minute taxi to the chateau, I’ll tell the driver to wait for me outside while I run in, and I’ll be back in no time. I remark that I doubt Megan and Nico will even notice I’m gone. Those two only have eyes for each other today.
True to my word, I ask the taxi driver to wait when we pull up to the chateau, jumping out and hurrying up the stairs so I don’t leave Françoise waiting too long alone at the beach.
‘Henry?’ I say, coming into Room Seventeen.
I’m greeted with silence. The bed is made, the stuffy room empty. I call out his name a little louder, walking to the bathroom and knocking on the door. It opens as I rap my knuckles on it and I find there’s no one in there.
‘Where on earth are you?’ I ask the empty room, before grabbing my purse and sun cream and sliding them into my bag before I forget.
Thinking he may have felt better and gone for a swim or taken his book somewhere, I decide to check the pool, but before I head downstairs, I go to open the balcony doors, needing to let some air in this room.
As I open the doors and glance out at the view, I notice two people on the path of the vineyard below. It takes me a moment to realise that one of them is Henry. Pleased to have cracked the case of where he’d got to, I step out onto the balcony. He’s with Mathieu, the two of them talking. I’m about to call out Henry’s name when I watch Henry close the gap between them. Mathieu cups Henry’s cheek in his hand and they kiss tenderly. It’s a familiar kiss, a meaningful one. This is not the first.
It is as though the floor of the balcony gives way beneath my feet.
I hear myself gasp for air and stumble backwards a little, reaching out to balance myself on the balcony door. They draw back only to kiss once again and then part with conspiratorial smiles, before they continue to walk through the vines side by side, innocently talking and laughing like two old friends.
Slamming my back against the door as I cling to it to keep myself upright, I let out a whimper as the truth descends on me. The betrayal, the lies, so many lies, the humiliation, my idiocy, the heartbreak, oh god, the heartbreak. Henry and I have not been perfect, god knows we may not have been frenziedly happy in recent years, but we had a foundation that we’d committed to, an underlying love that I thought we shared and respected. This family,myfamily, is based on fabrication. Where do we go from here? How long has this been going on? How do we come back from this? Will he want to come back from this? DoIwant to come back from this? How could he make me feel so foolish?
I suddenly realise that I do not know this person.
My whole world tilts.
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