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“He shouldn’t bother. Pierre has made his choice and now I need to make mine. And I choose to make a new life for myself.”
In France or in England? Iris wanted to ask.
23
It was one of those times when Gabriel regretted the old phones you could slam down hard to show your annoyance with someone.
On Pierre’s side, it didn’t really matter; he would know from Gabriel’s voice how angry he was. It was Gabriel who needed a physical manifestation for the frustration he felt. He settled for throwing his phone onto the armchair.
Pierre was acting so out of character that Gabriel feared his friend was having a total breakdown. He wouldn’t have thought him capable of such hurtful behavior, especially toward Laure. He had always idolized her. Gabriel could only suppose, in the same way that he felt guilty toward Iris for having lied to her, Pierre felt such guilt toward Laure that he wasn’t able to face her. Gabriel sighed. The only thing he could do, in the face of Pierre’s refusal to engage with him, was revert to his original plan and go to Paris. He would go on Monday; there wasn’t any point going tomorrow because Pierre might have left Paris for the weekend. Besides, Hugh and Esme were coming for lunch.
At least the need to contact Pierre had given him an excuse to leavethe garden and get away from Joseph. Earlier, when Iris had left the lunch table so suddenly—he thought it was because he’d come back without the shopping until Joseph mentioned a dizzy spell—he’d seized the opportunity to find out if Joseph had worked on the St. Cuthbert’s contract before he’d left Jarmans.
“Hugh mentioned that you worked for Jarmans before coming here,” he’d said, helping himself to a slice of the onion tart that Iris had made.
Joseph had reached for his glass and taken a drink, a giveaway delaying tactic, Gabriel decided.
“That’s right.”
“Were you with them a long time?”
“About three years.”
“You must have worked on some interesting projects.”
“I did.”
It had been like drawing blood from a stone. But it hadn’t deterred him from pushing further.
“When I first decided to do something with the walled garden, I looked at Jarmans’s website,” he’d said, aware of the lie he was telling. “But when I saw that one of their current contracts was landscaping the gardens of a public school, I guessed that my project was probably too small for them to consider.”
“You’d be surprised. Some of our contracts were for quite small projects.”
“You’re from the Winchester area.” Gabriel had made it sound as if it was something he’d only just realized. “The public school mentioned on their website—I think it was called St. Cuthbert’s—is in Winchester. Was that one of the projects you worked on?”
“No. My last job with them was for a private individual.”
“Right.” He’d had to swallow his disappointment. If Joseph had worked at St. Cuthbert’s, Gabriel might have mentioned Charlie. But even if he had, the chances of Joseph knowing him would have been slim. There must be hundreds of students at a place like St. Cuthbert’sand as a landscape gardener working in the grounds, Joseph would have had little contact with them.
Pushing thoughts of Joseph aside, he retrieved his phone from the armchair and called Pierre one last time. It went through to voicemail and with a sigh of irritation, Gabriel cut the call without leaving a message.
24
“Did you notice how hyped up Laure was tonight?” Iris asked, once Laure had gone to bed. “Almost feverish.”
“It’s understandable,” Gabriel said, carrying their empty wineglasses to the sink and running water into them. “She’s angry.”
When Iris didn’t say anything, he turned to her. “What’s up?”
“You’ll think it’s nothing.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“It’s just that when Laure came back, she wasn’t wearing the same clothes that she was wearing when she left this morning.”
He gave a wry smile. “Not something I would notice. But maybe she changed when she got to the apartment.”
“That’s what I thought. But when I complimented her on the dress, she told me she’d bought it while she was in Paris. And the cardigan. Even her sandals were new.”
