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“Tell me about Vivienne.”
“Vivienne?”
“Yes. You must’ve known her well.”
“I suppose so. To be honest, I wasn’t the best godmother. I never had one, so I had no idea what was expected, except that if anything happened to Kathy and Homer, I was to take her.”
“What was she like?”
Lysette thought about it. “Shy. A little hard to get to know. Bit of a homebody. She was a beautiful girl. You can see that in the pictures.”
Gamache nodded. “Was she nice?”
“I suppose.”
But there was reservation there.
“Go on.”
“No, it’s just that Kath found her difficult at times. I guess most mothers and daughters fight sometimes.”
“Do you mean fight? Or argue?” Gamache asked.
“Argue,” said Cloutier. “You don’t think Kathy actually hit her?”
Gamache raised his hands. “I have no idea what happened in that home. That’s why I’m asking you.”
“They argued. Quite a lot. But just words, nothing more. Like I said, that’s natural, isn’t it? Between mother and daughter. I sure did with my mother.”
Gamache nodded, remembering the foot stomping and dramatics from Annie and Reine-Marie’s narrowed eyes and tightly clamped jaw. Trying not to say something mean that she didn’t really mean.
Though Annie had no such qualms or restraint.
But now Annie and her mother were very close. Annie was a mother herself. He suspected that helped. With another child on the way. A girl.
Like Vivienne—
He brought his mind back to the job at hand.
“In what way did she find Vivienne difficult?”
“I actually don’t think it was Vivienne’s fault.” Lysette dropped her voice. “I think Kath was a little jealous of her.”
“Why?”
“Vivienne and her father were always close. From the moment she was born. Homer adored both his girls, as he called them. But there was a bond between him and Viv. Fathers and daughters, I suppose.”
“Yes,” said Gamache. Annie. Annie. Healthy and happy. And alive. And leaving …
“It was hard on Kathy. She didn’t help herself, though. The more jealous she got, the angrier and more demanding she got. It just pushed Vivienne even further away.”
“And toward her father.”
“Oui.”
A self-fulfilling prophecy, thought Gamache. How often we made our worst fears come true, by behaving as though they already were.
“He took her to soccer practice,” said Cloutier. “Coached her hockey team. When she was a child, he’d read to her at bedtime. Babar. Tintin. I’ve never seen a daughter more loved by a father, or a father more adored. I felt bad for Kathy. To be honest, I was never sure if she was jealous of Vivienne or Homer. But I do know that Vivienne left home as soon as she could.”
