A French Affair - Jennifer Bohnet Page 0,63

to be rid of them, but I don’t think she did destroy them.’ Belinda put everything back in the envelope. ‘Ever since I realised they were missing, I’ve been thinking about my mum. She never talked to me about her wedding day. Even when I asked her a direct question – what was her dress like, for instance, or where did they go on honeymoon – she’d brush me off. Called me an old romantic.

‘I remember asking to see their wedding photographs. I mean everyone has photos of their wedding, don’t they? Even if they don’t have an album as such. Mum laughed and told me they were too broke when they got married to afford a photographer and that’s why she didn’t have any photos. When I asked if that didn’t make her sad, she just shrugged and said, who needed photos when she had the person.’

Belinda took a biscuit and carefully dunked it in her wine. ‘Mmm, these are so good. The best nibbles ever.’

‘They’re a bit addictive,’ Fern said, taking one. ‘I don’t make them very often – they tend to lead me to the wine bottle when I have them in the biscuit tin. Too much temptation.’

‘I’ve been thinking too about Mum’s reactions when I was planning my marriage to Peter,’ Belinda said. ‘I bought every bridezilla magazine I could lay my hands on and Mum fell on them every time. She’d go through them muttering, “Who’d wear a dress like that? How much?” and other things like that. When I wanted her advice on wedding etiquette and how to do things, can you guess what she said?’

Fern shook her head.

‘“You don’t want a wedding like mine, darling. We were just two crazy hippies who didn’t make a big deal out of it. Your wedding day though is going to be wonderful.” And it was. Shame the marriage failed to live up to expectations.’ Belinda sighed. ‘The more I talk about it, the more I think they never married. Which raises the obvious question, why not? I remember them as loving parents to me and loving towards each other, until that dreadful day when Mum dragged me away because Dad had had an affair.’

‘Do you have any relatives who might know the truth?’

‘No. Damn, I should have asked Molly while I was over there. She and Mum were quite close. I do remember them having a party on the thirtieth of June every year and claiming it was for their anniversary. Mind, it could have been the anniversary of the day they met or got together, for all I know.’ Belinda helped herself to another biscuit and dunked it. ‘You’re right, these are addictive.’ She glanced at Fern. ‘You remember that waitress, Sandrine? I was wondering whether I’d go and talk to her. She, or probably her parents, would have heard all the gossip after we left. Not sure that I want to bring it all out into the open again.’ She groaned to herself. ‘But I really really want to know the truth about my parents.’

‘We’re talking about the late 1960s here, aren’t we?’ Fern said thoughtfully. ‘What was the name of the village your grandmother lived in?’

‘Saint-Herbot,’ Belinda answered. ‘Why?’

‘I was wondering whether Anouk would have heard anything all those years ago. You said you lived on a smallholding nearby and Huelgoat isn’t a million miles away from Saint-Herbot.’ Fern did some mental calculations. ‘Anouk has lived in Huelgoat since she married sixty-five years ago. And villages in those days thrived on gossip even more than today. She may have heard something but not necessarily known the people involved.’

‘It’s worth asking her, I suppose,’ Belinda said.

‘Come for supper soon and you can ask her yourself,’ Fern said. ‘I’ll introduce you to Scott too.’

‘Thanks. I can always go and see Sandrine afterwards if Anouk doesn’t know anything,’ which Belinda thought was more than likely to be the case. Everyone knew that old people’s memories weren’t always the most reliable.

The cottage door slammed, startling them both, as well as the two dogs, who jumped up, barking simultaneously.

‘Evening, Belinda, Fern,’ Alain said, appearing in the doorway. ‘I won’t disturb you, just going to make a spot of supper. Anyone like anything?’

‘No thanks,’ Fern said, standing up. ‘I must go.’ She turned to Belinda. ‘I’ll see you soon and I’ll also have a quiet word with Anouk.’

‘Thanks. I’ll see you out.’

Standing watching Fern drive away, Belinda realised that she’d never got around to asking her what she should

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