Page 7 of Don't Believe A Word

Clearly not thrilled David said, ‘Does it mean I have to sit throughanotherperformance ofBeauty and the Beastin order to bring you home again?I’ve already seen it a hundred times.’

‘He hasn’t,’ Rosie told Cristy, ‘because it hasn’t been open that long. Oh, I know!’ she suddenly cried excitedly, ‘Anna can take me and bring Sadie. Sadie hasn’t seen it yet and she said she wants to. I’ll go and find Anna.’

As she raced off to find her sister, Cristy closed the door and laughed at the way David was thanking God for his narrow escape.

‘Speaking of Sadie Winters,’ he said, going to the small bar he kept on a trolley next to the fireplace, ‘how have you left it with her? Does the story interest you?’

‘Yes, it does,’ Cristy admitted, sinking down on the sofa. ‘Have you read the pages she brought to me today?’

‘I have,’ he replied, handing her a Scotch. ‘I found the resonance, perhaps I should say possibility, of truth in the story … unsettling?’

Cristy nodded as he sat down with her. ‘Made more so by the use of real names. Anyway, I’d certainly like to read more – presuming there is more – but if Lottie’s computers have gone … Why would she only have printed out a few pages? Why print out any at all?’

‘I’ve no idea about that, but if you’re not able to leave tomorrow maybe you could meet Mia Winters. She’s an … interesting character.’

‘How so?’

He tilted his head as he thought. ‘I’d say she’s … mercurial. The minute you think you’ve pinned her to something you realize she “left the room” a while ago. Lottie was far easier to deal with; straight-talking, a woman of her word, and of the world; a real dynamo, especially when it came to fundraisers, sailing and tennis. She certainly liked to win; in fact she was on the court when she died.’

‘Heart attack?’

He nodded. ‘Quite sudden and very shocking given she wasonly mid-sixties. Mia took it hard; Sadie did too. Lottie was the life-force in that house – and if anyone knew how to throw a party it was her.’

Starting to feel sorry that she’d never meet her, Cristy said, ‘I’m not sure if Sadie will want me to speak to Mia. She hasn’t told her about the pages she found yet.’

‘Mmm, I guess that doesn’t surprise me. She’s very protective of her aunt, and obviously nervous of what she might discover the further into this she goes, but it’ll be hard getting to the truth if you can’t question Mia. On the other hand, even if you do, like I said, she’s a hard one to pin down.’

Cristy sipped her Scotch as she thought. ‘It’s early days,’ she said, ‘and Sadie’s going to carry on looking for more pages that might connect with the ones we have so far. Apparently there are dozens and dozens of boxes full of ideas for short stories, chapters from some, the ends or beginnings of others, even complete ones apparently.’

They sat quietly for a while, each with their own thoughts, hers mostly still with Sadie and her aunts, until their drinks were finished and it really was time to go downstairs.

‘Incidentally,’ she said, as they reached the door. ‘Where is Juliette staying?’

David’s brows rose in surprise, as if he hadn’t even considered his ex-partner’s needs, although he clearly had, because he said, ‘She’s in the second bed in Laurent’s room.’ This kind of made sense since Juliette was Laurent’s mother – Laurent being the youngest of David’s children, aged twelve. ‘The cottages are all taken, bar one,’ he continued, ‘but it seemed a bit mean to put her out there on her own when the rest of the family is going to be here.’

Cristy smiled.Family.‘I’m sure Laurent’s already loving having his mum around,’ she said, ‘and I’m looking forward to meeting her.’

Seeming pleased by that, he said, ‘I think you’ll like her. She’s very …French, in a good way …’

‘Is there a bad way?’

He laughed. ‘She kind of has that coined too, but she’s a good mother to Laurent …’

‘Even though he lives here, with you?’

‘It makes more sense. He’s settled in school, his friends are here and he has family around him. In Paris there’s only Juliette and her aristo-arty set who aren’t really interested in children.’ His eyes narrowed as he regarded her closely. ‘Are you OK with her being here?’ he asked warily.

‘Of course,’ she insisted, though not entirely sure this was true. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

He smiled. ‘No reason I can think of. Now, we’d better go down before Mum sends up a search party.’

*

There were only a few minutes to go before midnight when Cristy looked around the crowded party in search of David. She hadn’t seen him in a while, but there were so many people here. It seemed half the island had come and the volume of chat along with the music was so loud it was almost impossible to hear what anyone was saying.Papillon,as Rosie called the Gaudion estate in honour of her dead mother’s love of butterflies, was apparentlytheplace to be on New Year’s Eve. Cristy briefly reflected on Lexie Gaudion, the great love of David’s life whose terrible and tragic death had been the focus of Cristy’s last podcast series. She wondered if Lexie and David had thrown parties like this, everyone in black tie and evening dresses, glasses brimming with fine wines, champagne on ice ready for midnight and trays of delicious canapés being passed around by uniformed catering staff.

Spotting Cynthia, David’s mother, with her other son, Richard, and his wife, Astrid, Cristy slipped through the throng, clinking glasses with as many strangers as extended family as she went, until she almost stumbled into Richard, laughing as he caught her, and asked if any of them had seen David.

‘He went down to check on the fireworks,’ Cynthia told her, her dear, crumpled face flushed with delight as a waiter refilled her glass with a classic white Bordeaux. ‘Five minutes to go!’ she cheered joyfully.

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