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“All right. Thanks, Iris.”
Iris closed her eyes a moment. The need to calm herself was overpowering. She took some deep breaths, then made her way to the bathroom and splashed water on her face. As she patted it dry with a towel, she caught sight of herself in the mirror above the sink. It seemed as though she was looking at a stranger. She felt a weird sense of displacement. Who was she, this woman staring back at her?
The thought that she needed to tell Gabriel this latest news drove her downstairs. Lunch had been cleared away and there was no sign of either Gabriel or Joseph. Stifling a sigh, she made her way to the walled garden. Gabriel had been avoiding her since she confronted him about the letter she’d found, but he wasn’t going to be able to avoid her now.
He was sitting on the bench, his elbows on his knees, staring into space. She felt a sudden irritation; yes, Charlie’s death had been a tragedy,but surely he should be able to take comfort from the fact that if it hadn’t been for him, Charlie would have died alone?
“It suits you,” she said, looking for a gentle way in before she hit him with the news that Laure hadn’t seen Pierre.
For a moment, he looked confused, then remembered he was wearing the bottle green polo shirt she’d bought for him in London the previous day.
“Thanks,” he said, giving her a smile, and for a moment, he looked like his old, pre-Charlie self. “It was nice of you to buy me and Laure presents.”
“It made me feel less guilty about buying so much for myself,” she joked, because she’d come back laden with bags. “Talking of Laure, she just called.”
He shifted along the bench to make room for her. “How did it go? Did she tell you?”
“Pierre wasn’t at the flat.”
He turned to her, a frown furrowing his brow. “What do you mean? She was meeting him there, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, at one o’clock.”
“And he wasn’t there?”
“That’s what Laure said. She was crying so much she couldn’t really tell me anything. She’s on her way back.”
Gabriel rubbed his chin. “But if she’s already on her way back, how long did she wait? Maybe Pierre went out and was held up or something.”
“If he was, he would have phoned to let her know. And it didn’t sound as if he had. I hate to say it, but I think he got cold feet about telling her the truth. I’m just so angry with him. Laure doesn’t deserve this.”
Gabriel cursed under his breath, then stood up. “Right, I’m going to phone him. And I’m going to keep on phoning him until he picks up.”
“Good luck with that,” Iris said. But he’d already gone.
Iris sat, mentally preparing herself for the fallout from Pierre’s no-show. She felt sorry for Laure; she had thought to have the upper hand by turning up with no luggage, a sign to Pierre that she wasn’t going to forgive him easily. But there had been no audience for her small act of defiance. She would come back empty-handed, and more brokenhearted than before.
“Are you okay?” Joseph’s voice broke into her thoughts.
She looked up, shading her eyes against the sun.
“Yes, fine, I’m just worried about Laure. Pierre didn’t turn up, so she’s on her way back.”
“You mean she went all the way to Paris for nothing? Why didn’t he turn up? Did she say?” He raised his hands, palms toward her. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”
She hid her surprise at how much he knew. Laure had obviously been confiding in him. “I don’t think she heard from him at all. No explanation, no apology, nothing.”
“That’s harsh. Poor Laure. She must be pretty upset.”
But when Iris collected her later at the station, Laure was not as down as she’d expected.
“I got chatting to someone on the train,” she explained, pushing her sunglasses onto the top of her head. “The man sitting opposite me saw I was upset and I found myself pouring out my heart to him. He said that for Pierre to make me go all the way to Paris, then not do me the courtesy of turning up means that he’s not serious about getting our relationship back on track. I think he’s right.”
“So where do you think Pierre was?” Iris asked, grateful to the stranger for getting Laure to a better place.
“I have no idea. I thought he might be at Claire’s so I tried calling her, but she didn’t pick up. I thought of going around to her apartment, but Pierre has humiliated me enough. I need to move on, accept that my marriage is over.” She turned her eyes on Iris. “How did I get him sowrong, Iris? How did I get Pierre so wrong? I never thought he would do anything like this in a million years.”
“Gabriel’s trying to phone him,” Iris said, switching on the ignition.
