Page 104 of Calling Frank O'Hare

Benoit was good looking, clean shaven and well dressed. Exactly the kind of man Frank would have expected Ellen to have gone for. He was as polished as his nails, if you ignored the haunted look in his eyes. He shook Frank’s hand tentatively. ‘I am so sorry. You must think me a very bad person, but your existence was news to me. She never told me she was married. Or that she had a daughter.’

‘Don’t worry about it, your existence was news to me too,’ said Frank. They were in a bar, a few streets away from his hotel. Gavin had introduced them and left them to talk.

‘She was some woman,’ said Benoit.

‘Yes she was.’ Frank couldn’t argue with that sentiment. There truly was no other woman like Ellen. ‘Did she tell you where she was last year?’

‘No. And I had learned not to ask.’

‘Me too. I don’t think she meant to be the way she was. I guess it was her condition.’

Benoit frowned. ‘Condition?’

‘The bipolar.’

‘Bipolar?’ Benoit muttered something in French that Frank didn’t catch. ‘I was not aware of this. Perhaps you made a mistake?’

‘I…’ Frank saw the confusion playing out on Benoit’s face. The poor guy had been through enough. ‘Yes. Perhaps I did.’

‘Christmas was so miserable without her. When she called to say she was coming home, I was overjoyed. We had two wonderful weeks and then, and then this.’ Benoit began to cry. ‘Apologies. I can’t believe she is gone. But I know it is true. I saw her. I felt her cold skin. Again, I’m sorry. You do not want to hear this.’

‘It’s okay. I understand.’

‘You’re very kind. I don’t think I would be so generous if I were in your shoes.’

Perhaps not, but Benoit wasn’t in Frank’s shoes. Benoit had probably seen the best of Ellen. Frank could have envied that in him, but all he could do was pity him for his suffering. ‘Was she happy with you, Benoit?’

Benoit blew his nose. ‘I think so. Was she happy with you, Frank?’

‘Only at the end.’

Robyn was not at all surprised that her mother had another man on the go, but Frank saw her sneaking a glance at Benoit at the funeral. For his part, Benoit looked astounded when he saw Robyn walking on Frank’s arm. She was so like Ellen, it must have been a shock. He caught Mrs Montague casting an eye over her too. The old woman sat rigid and unyielding throughout the service, completely dry-eyed. Benoit was distraught. The only person to match his emotions was Adrian.

The wake was held in one of the smaller rooms of a grand hotel. Mrs Montague sat by a window looking out to a lake in the grounds, accepting and responding to condolences in perfect French.

The British contingent of mourners huddled around Frank and Robyn.

Adrian proposed a toast. ‘To Lady Lottie. One of a kind. We loved her regardless.’

‘So true,’ said Gavin. ‘Would you excuse me?’ He left the room and a few minutes later, Frank saw him through the window, on his way to the lake.

Frank followed him out. The setting reminded him of the first time he and Gavin had met, the one and only time he’d stayed at the Montagues’ house. It was also the first time Gavin had warned him about Ellen, although Frank hadn’t realised he’d been serious at the time.

Ahead of him, Gavin stopped by the lake. He had his back to Frank and it was only as he got closer, Frank realised he was weeping.

Gavin turned to face him, tears streaming down his face. ‘Ah, the mask has slipped I’m afraid. You’ve rather caught me at a bad time. Would you mind leaving me to it?’

Frank nodded and walked back up to the hotel. Mrs Montague was watching them through the window, her face as impassive as ever.

The next day, Robyn and Adrian flew home. Frank was staying for another day to go over some points from Ellen’s will.

‘Most of her money goes to Benoit. She didn’t think you’d want it,’ said Gavin. ‘She has left the London flat to you though.’

‘She was right, I don’t want it. I don’t want the flat either.’

‘I could arrange a sale. You could put the money away for a rainy day.’

Frank nodded in agreement. He was too tired to fight it. ‘What about Robyn?’

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