Читать книгу Love Is the Answer - Tracy Madden - Страница 10

With her arms folded, head on an angle, Bea stood back and surveyed her latest canvas. ‘So tell me how you feel?’ she asked, her attention still on the artwork.

‘Mother,’ I said with mock seriousness, my eyes averted, investigating a small table filled with a mecca of paints, sketch pads, picture frames and paper weights. ‘That’s so unlike you. Tell me how you feel. You’ve either been taking a course in psychology, or watching far too much midday television.’ I gave her a look.

In turn, she flashed me the briefest of glances over her shoulder. Narrowing her eyes, she indicated the canvas, her bangles jangling. ‘More vermillion up here don’t you think.’ She turned back to me.

I had used sarcasm to hide my wild ride of emotions. I picked up a tube of midnight blue paint, closely examining it. Bea leant across and removed it from my fingers. Arms folded, she looked at me for an answer.

I shrugged. ‘I feel numb one moment, and the next I’m overcome with emotions I didn’t know I had. By Davis’s email earlier it looks like the settlement is all but done. I have to sign a couple of documents and that’s it.’ I cut my hands through the air. ‘We’re over.’ And there was that odd feeling again, one of nothingness. We might as well have been discussing a stranger.

Typical of Bea, she swiped her hands together as if dusting them off. ‘Well, that’s that then.’ I was unsure if she meant my marriage or the painting. She leant against the bench. ‘Actually, when I asked how you felt, I was referring to the house you’ve been talking about. I think I have an idea how you feel about the other. What’s your gut feeling here? Is this a house you really want?’ She wiped her vermillion stained hands on an old hand towel.

‘Yes I do. I think… no… I know it’s a life I want. I’ve surprised even myself. From the moment I walked through that gate, I felt an immediate connection to it. I really can’t tell you what happened… I walked in there and said this is it.’

There was no denying the feeling of peace, like a floaty gossamer cloak that had settled over me. I looked at my mother. ‘Bea it’s hard to explain. It was as if I belonged. Everything that had happened in my life, had led me to that point.’

She sighed. ‘I understand, that can happen in life, with people and places.’ She smiled wistfully and I knew her thoughts were of Papa. And then her blue eyes continued to regard me. ‘Peach you always had that pleaser gene that I was worried about. You did things because you thought you should, rather than follow your heart. You’ve done it all your life and I saw you do it time and time again with Davis. However, this time it seems as if you are following your heart.’

I shrugged and gave a small smile, feeling she was right. ‘Not to mention the phenomenal price. I can’t get my head around it.’

‘You must do whatever makes your heart sing,’ she said, flopping onto a cushion strewed, cream calico day bed, next to the loudly snoring Josephine, Bea’s latest in a long succession of pugs. Poor Josephine still snored loudly, even though she’d had an operation on her nasal passages, such is the problem with flat faced dogs.

For a person that used vibrant colour every day in her paintings, Bea’s colour palette for her home was whites and creams, even down here in her studio. She said it allowed her a tranquil blank canvas with which to showcase her spectacular artwork.

I put both of my hands up. ‘Hang on, it’s not that easy.’ I perched myself on a stool opposite her and folded my arms across my chest.

Reclining, Bea raised her eyebrows in question, and shrugged her shoulders. She was never one to think too hard about anything. She went with how she felt, although there was no doubt in my mind my mother was a very strong woman.

I explained further. ‘It might be a phenomenal purchase price, but I do have to consider the extensive renovations, then furnishing it, plus bringing that huge garden back to its former glory. I am going to need decent money to do it justice. That’s really my problem here. I would prefer to keep some of my interests invested to keep them working for me.’ I shrugged.

We both sat quiet, contemplative, and then I continued. ‘But Bea you should see it.’ And my voice warmed to the idea once again. ‘There’s something so wonderful about it. The garden reminds me of Enid Blyton’s Magic Far Away Tree. It has dreamlike qualities like an enchanted forest. I did know Mr Carmody was a landscape architect, although I can’t remember giving it much thought. He has left a wonderful legacy behind. That place is crying out to be filled with people. I’ve been giving thought to a few ideas, but the one that keeps coming to mind is a luxurious inner city B&B.’

I began to visualise, describing it to Bea as I went. ‘Imagine coming up that drive, and seeing the house for the first time; a mix of contemporary and antique furniture, and fabulous, luxurious comfort; peace and quiet guaranteed, but only minutes from the cafe precinct and city centre,’ my voice began to race, ‘stunning gardens with beautifully maintained flowerbeds; a kitchen garden; breakfast on the terrace with views of the river; and relaxation by the pool.’ And then I came back to reality. ‘However, I’ll have to do my figures. It might be one big dream. As I said earlier, this is going to cost serious money.’ Thoughtfully, I tapped my fingertips on my top lip.

Reclining in resplendent comfort, Bea draped an arm over the back of the chair. ‘Do you know anything at all about running a B&B darling?’

‘Nope, but I intend to learn. After all, I do know about running a business, and at the end of the day, it’s another business. Plus Mum…’ there was that Mum word I used whenever I was stressed or needed comfort. I roamed over to the French doors and looked out to the back garden. ‘Plus I have to work out what to do with my life.’ Neither of us said anything for a few moments, and then with my eyes still on the garden, I continued. ‘I really thought I would have been a mum by now.’

Shrugging, I turned and looked at Bea. She looked thoughtful. I watched her face. Rising from the chaise, she beckoned. ‘Come with me.’

Taking a green tasselled key from the drawer of a small French dresser, she unlocked the large storeroom next to her studio. Pushing the door open, her hand reached for the light switch as she gestured me in front of her.

‘What…?’ I was taken aback, my eyes blinking in disbelief. And then with mouth agape, I stared. It was an Aladdin’s Cave crammed full of French antiques. My eyes lit up as they scanned the tightly packed room, making out a Louis XV style console, half a dozen ornate mirrors, two commodes, a sideboard, a pair of wing back chairs, and what appeared to be a Napoleonic chandelier.

With a flourish of her hand, Bea gestured. ‘Some things of your father’s he thought you may want some day. Each of these treasured pieces he selected for you on my last trip to France.’ Her hand smoothed over the worn patina of an armoire, her face now alive with memories. ‘When I came home after… after that sad time…’ I knew she was referring to my father’s death, ‘… I mentioned that there were some antique pieces of his being shipped, for whenever you wanted them. And then when you moved into the warehouse I asked again. Remember?’

I did remember Bea asking, and I distinctly remembered Davis taking me aside, firmly stating that we didn’t want anything old, only new shiny modern stuff for us.

I glanced around once more. I had thought this room was full of art supplies and old canvases. My eyes settled on a console where atop it sat a pair of gilded candle holders, highly decorated and forming branches of flowers, next to them a clock in marble, gold and bronze.

‘Oh,’ I gasped. ‘Look at this gilding.’ My hand smoothed over the gold work on the clock.

‘I believe that’s called ormolu,’ Bea explained.

‘Oh,’ I repeated, too overwhelmed to talk.

Bea began to move the console forward and I obligingly helped. Wedged in behind were a pair of cast iron urns covered in an off white coating, showing a few rusty marks of the time. However, behind them was the piece I loved the most. A roll-top desk. Lovingly, I ran my hands over it. ‘Oh Mum, look.’

‘If I remember correctly that piece is circa 1780 Paris. It still has its original marble top.’

‘Mmmm,’ I answered, busy rolling up the top to reveal a large writing pad and eight smaller drawers inside. ‘Oh my goodness.’

‘Will this help?’ Bea asked.

I looked around the room. ‘What, for Mr Carmody’s house? Mum it would be magnificent… perfect… what can I say?’

‘Well I daresay your papa would be very pleased.’ And Bea’s face showed it. ‘Finally he has done something right.’

*

We adjourned upstairs to the living room, where I nestled into the corner of one of the cream damask sofas. Placing my feet upon a plump cushion, I enjoyed the fading sunlight sparkling through a giant crepe myrtle tree outside the front door. Every March, Bea would fill our home at Kangaroo Point with huge vases of the heliotrope coloured crepe myrtle blooms cut from the trees in our garden there.

I glanced around Bea’s living room. Filled with romantic talismans - painted crosses, wooden hearts, keys strung on the end of rosary beads, the words armour embroidered on one of the cushions – it was the perfect Bea room.

The quiet was punctuated by the squeals of children playing in neighbouring yards. I liked the sound of it. Across from me, Bea, her eyes alive with excitement, spoke more of Papa than she had in my entire life. Or maybe it was just that I was ready to hear.

‘Your papa had a law degree when he first started out working with the best auctioneers in Lille and Paris. At 24, he became the youngest dealer in Chinoiserie for the European Biennale. His first shop was in Chartres and was opened solely on weekends catering to the Parisians who would make sabbaticals to their stately country homes. Weekdays, he spent passionately scouring antique markets and sourcing irreplaceable pieces from some of France’s most expensive private homes.’ She smiled. ‘He was passionate, intelligent and hardworking. You’re much like him Peach. Perhaps you have more of him, than me.’

I smiled at her. ‘But what of the chateau?’

‘Yes, the chateau and your grandmother, Helene, the doyenne of the family.’ Her voice still held an edge of dislike, even after all of this time. ‘When your grandfather passed away, your papa’s older brother Philippe inherited the chateau.’

I narrowed my eyes in disbelief. ‘I didn’t know there was an older brother.’

‘Yes, but when your papa was in his late thirties, Philippe, along with his wife and young son, were killed in a car accident. Of course, as was the done thing, your papa went home to run the family chateau, although he never gave up his involvement and love of antiques.’

‘Did he want to return to the chateau?’

‘Hmmm… I’m not sure that he had a choice, however from what I understand it was not entirely bad, as he had been coming and going for many years and seeing someone in the next town. Plus I believe his mother thought it was time he settled down.’

I narrowed my eyes. ‘Helene didn’t like you, did she?’

‘No, not at all. It was awful for me at the time, but I understand now.’

‘How so?’

‘Well she was a widow, and then her oldest son, daughter-in-law and grandchild tragically die. The younger son, she thinks will settle down at the chateau with a woman she likes… instead I turn up. A young inexperienced, flighty foreigner. In hindsight, she was right about me.’

I raised my eyebrows in a questioning look.

‘Well I didn’t stay, did I? And I was as bored out in the country as I had been in Tasmania. At that age, I really wasn’t interested in some old chateau. Of course I loved Alexandre.’ She glanced down at her hands. ‘Very, very much.’

‘But what about Dad, you loved him as well, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, but differently. Of course I loved Johnny, in fact I still do, but more like a favourite sibling. It’s not hard to love someone who is a genuinely good guy and loves you. He adored you girls and we had a good life. And let’s face it, Johnny is a great character, quite a larrikin, everyone loves him. The difference was, I was in love with Alexandre. Always was and always will be. From the moment we met, we could not deny the powerful force between us. For many years, I regretted leaving France so quickly and not giving him a second chance. However as I got older, I realised that although he loved me, he was always going to be a charmer with the women.’ She clucked her tongue. ‘Typical of so many Frenchmen. They are so charismatic and so terribly seductive.’ Bea played with her hair in a girlish way and pulled her legs up underneath herself. ‘They get into your blood and you can think of nothing else. The thing about them is that they genuinely love beautiful women. Almost worship them, in fact.’

My tone was droll. ‘I’m not sure that’s an excuse. Don’t all men?’ I drummed my fingers on the arm of the chair.

‘Yes and no. If you asked all men they would say they did, but men like your papa make it an art form. They let you know that they appreciate the beauty, they cherish it, and it makes them who they are. Their masculinity makes you all the more feminine. There is a magnetism about them. The way they speak of beautiful women, you feel it is an honour they have picked you. And you understand that they just can’t help themselves but enjoy the beauty of others.’

My voice held a certain edge, my recent past rising up to haunt me. ‘I’m not sure I understand. Surely it’s not something you can forgive?’

‘I tell you, with maturity, I would forgive Alexandre everything. And I did. He was, and is, the love of my life.’

I realised we were speaking of something else. ‘I’m not sure I could ever forgive Davis,’ I said quietly, absentmindedly playing with a silk tassel on a cream and gold brocade cushion.

Bea shrugged. ‘Who knows? The thing is, sex is a much more powerful thing for a woman than a man. Men can be spasmodic. For a woman, it is deep and meaningful. Anyway, I think the way you are right now, if that’s what Davis wanted, you would forgive him in a heartbeat.’

Giving my head a shake, I looked at her, screwing my nose up. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because it shows. But you know…’ and she paused, her eyes narrowing, while she carefully chose her words. ‘I know you loved Davis, but I’m not sure he is the love of your life. I think you are still to find him.’

I shrugged, unsure if she was right.

‘I know you don’t believe me right now, but I want to ask you something.’ She paused briefly. ‘Can you tell me he bought the best out in you?’

‘He certainly did in the business. We made a fantastic team,’ I said proudly, as much for myself as for her. I needed to remember that not everything had been bad, that there were times when we were phenomenal together.

‘That’s a little different. That’s called being a good boss or a good business partner. But what about who you are Peach, the real you, your dreams and what you want out of life. Did he enhance those things for you? Have you lived the life you wanted?’

Touché, she and I both knew I had not. I sat back. ‘Did Papa for you?’ I asked boldly.

‘Absolutely! When I was with him, my paintings were never better. He made me feel I could live the way I wanted, and be the best me. I didn’t have to pretend to be something I wasn’t. I was fulfilled. I was a better me. More me… if that makes sense.’

There was a part of me that understood what she was saying, but there was a huge part of me that wondered how she could have loved him so much, when he could never be faithful to her.

It appeared as if she read my mind. ‘Relationships are very private things, Peach. People work out what works best for them. It may seem odd to others, but that’s how it goes. I always knew I was the love of his life. He married no other. However, I had made choices, and had to stick with them. And mind you, I was never sorry for those choices.’ She smiled and I knew she meant Lou and me. She continued. ‘He respected that, and always looked after me very well. You too for that matter.’

I nodded. After all, he had paid my school fees for Brisbane’s best private girls’ school, then my university fees. When he passed away I received a nice sum of money. He had been extremely generous. Plus I always knew I could have gone to Provence whenever I wanted, although I just could not do that to Johnny. While I was quietly thinking, Bea stood up and went into her bedroom. Returning a few minutes later, she stood in the doorway. I caught the look on her face.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘I know I haven’t always been the parent you wanted Peach, but I do love you.’

‘For God’s sake Bea, not this again,’ I said, a frustrated edge to my voice.

She let out a breath. ‘When your papa died he left a large amount of money to me. I would never have had all of this.’ She waved her hands around her home. ‘He also left enough money to look after me for the rest of my life. He also left a fairly substantial amount of money to you.’

‘Yes I know. The money you gave us on our wedding day. It irks the hell out of me now, as I realise that it’s being used in the property settlement. Davis bloody-well doesn’t deserve half of it.’

‘Well, to be honest, there was more than the $200,000 I gave you back then.’ She walked over to where I sat, handing me a piece of paper.

It was a bank statement. Mouth opened, I looked back up at Bea. She nodded. I looked back down and scanned the statement. The figure in the closing balance column was just over three million dollars. ‘What’s this?’ I couldn’t grasp it.

‘It’s what Papa left to you. We discussed it and he made me promise not to give it to you until the time was right. I really hesitated on your wedding day. On one hand I felt it was the right thing to do, but on the other I never felt right about Davis. Funny that! Anyway, I’ve had it in an interest bearing deposit account all this time. Next time it matures, which, as luck would have it, is in about 30 days, instead of rolling it over, I can cash it, and deposit it into your account.’

I closed my eyes, attempting to fathom what she was saying. ‘Hang on a minute. Are you telling me, this money is mine? Just like that. Oh by the way, here’s a cool three mil. Meant to give it to you a while ago.’

Bea plopped back down on the couch opposite. ‘I am. You’ll have to trust me with the timing. I know I haven’t always gotten everything…’ I leapt off my chair and ran to her, throwing my arms around her. ‘You got this right Mum. I can’t believe it.’

From the look on her face, I could see she was pleased.

‘I can buy the Carmody property and do what I want with it. This was all meant to be.’ I began to laugh and jumped up, dancing around, flicking my silk skirt around my thighs. ‘Oh my God,’ I shrieked, ‘imagine if you’d given it to me sooner and now I had to divide it up with Davis. Bea you really got this right… really, really right. I can bring Wilbur home.’

‘Peach… one more thing…’

I halted my dancing and spun to look at her, wondering what else there could be.

‘It’s time for you to go to the chateau,’ she said with an air of firmness.

‘Of course, of course.’ I would have promised her anything at that point. I had never visited the chateau, even though I had been close many years earlier. My plan, at the time, had been to enjoy my time with Steve in Paris, and then head to Provence on my own. But when Davis proposed, that idea flew out the window and I returned home with Steve into the arms of my fiancé.

‘We’ll both go directly after my exhibition. I know it would be timely to go now, while you’re in limbo, but I need a few months. I want to show you your father’s house. It’s your history Peach.’

I nodded my head, shrugging at the same time, unused to Bea being so parental. ‘Whatever!’

‘And my advice to you,’ Bea continued on with her unexpected words of wisdom. ‘Is to get those settlement papers with Davis signed pretty quick smart. Then move on the Carmody property after that.’

‘Good advice.’ I leant down to kiss her proffered cheek. As I stood up, I straightened my skirt which had twisted to the side.

‘Look at you Peach, your skirt is swimming on you.’

‘I know, I know, I know!’ I said still dancing around. ‘Yep, try as hard as I might to lose a kilo or two for years and then my skanky assed husband goes off with a blonde tart, to put it politely, and guess what, I’ve lost four kilos. I should market it.’ Bea shook her head at me while I continued with my tirade. ‘You know, a few weeks before I found out about him and… Davis pinched the top of my thigh and said, Ooh got some wobbly bits here. We really should watch that, shouldn’t we. Condescending bastard.’ I threw myself in among the cushions on the lounge.

‘He always was Peach. You just didn’t see it.’

I brushed my hair out of my eyes. ‘Or chose not to.’ From my vantage point I could see straight out the front door and now noticed how late it had gotten. I looked at my watch. ‘Marty is coming by to take me to dinner. Do you want to join us?’

Bea cocked her head to the side and raised her brows. ‘Oh… I see… Marty?’

I waved a hand at her and shook my head. ‘It’s nothing like that.’

‘Really?’

‘Really Bea. He will always be just a friend.’

‘Mmmm.’