Three Weeks in Paris. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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      Very softly, Alexa said, ‘Tom was married very young, Mother, to his childhood sweetheart, Juliette. They grew up together, and their parents were friends. They had a little girl, Marie-Laure, and seemingly, from what he told me, they were an idyllic couple…the poster couple, I guess. Very beautiful, very happy together. And then something bad happened…’

      Alexa paused, drew a deep breath, and continued, ‘In July of 1985 they went to Athens. On vacation. But Tom also had to see a client from Paris, who owned a summer house there. Towards the end of the vacation, Tom arranged a final meeting with his client before he took his family back to Paris. That morning he told Juliette he would meet her and Marie-Laure for lunch at their favourite café, but Tom was delayed and got there a bit late. It was chaotic when he walked into the square where the café was located. Police cars and ambulances were converging in the centre, and the human carnage was horrendous. People were dead and dying, there was blood and body parts everywhere, as if a massacre had taken place. The police told Tom that a bomb had exploded only minutes before his arrival, more than likely a terrorist’s bomb that had been planted on one of those big tour buses, this particular one filled with Americans from the hotel in the square. About sixty people were on the bus, and they all died.

      ‘As the bus was leaving the square it suddenly blew up, right in front of the café where Juliette and Marie-Laure were waiting for Tom. The impact of the blast was enormous. People sitting at the various cafés around the square were blown right out of their chairs. Many were killed or injured…’ Alexa stopped, and it was a moment before she could continue.

      After taking several deep breaths, she went on: Tom couldn’t find Juliette and Marie-Laure, and as you can imagine he was worried and frightened, frantic as he searched for them. He did find them eventually, under the rubble in the back of the café…the ceiling had collapsed on them. They were both dead.’ Alexandra blinked, and her voice was so low it was almost inaudible as she finished, ‘Don’t you see, he’s never recovered from that…that…nightmare.’

      Diane was staring at Alexandra in horror and tears had gathered in her light blue eyes. ‘How horrendous, what a terrible, terrible tragedy to happen to them, to him,’ she murmured, and then looking across at her daughter, she saw that Alexa’s face was stark, taut, drained of all colour.

      Rising, she went and sat next to her on the sofa, put her arm around her and held her close. ‘Oh darling, you’re still in love with him…’

      ‘Am I? I’m not sure, Mother, but he does occupy a large part of me, that’s true. He’s there, inside, and he always will be, I think. But I’m smart enough to know I have no future with Tom. He’ll never marry me, or anybody else, for that matter. Nor will he have a permanent relationship, because he can’t. You see, he just can’t forget them.’

      ‘Or he won’t let himself forget,’ Diane suggested softly.

      ‘Perhaps that’s true. Perhaps he thinks that if he forgets them he’d be riddled with guilt for the rest of his life and wouldn’t be able to handle it. You brought me up to be sensible, practical, and I believe I am those things. And after we broke up, I knew I had to get on with my life…I knew I couldn’t moon around yearning for Tom. I understood there was no future in that.’

      Diane nodded. ‘You were right, and I think you’ve managed to get on with your professional life extremely well. I’m proud, of you, Alexa, you didn’t let your personal problems get in the way of your career. All I can say is bravo.’

      ‘You once told me years ago that I must never negate my talent by not using it, by wasting it, and I listened to you, Mom. I also knew I had to earn a living, I wasn’t going to let you and Dad support me, especially after you’d sent me to such expensive schools, Anya’s in particular.’

      Diane nodded. ‘Just as a matter of interest, how old is he? Tom, I mean.’

      ‘He’s forty-two, Mom.’

      Diane nodded, searched her daughter’s face intently and wondered, ‘Do you love Jack Wilton a little bit at least?’

      ‘Yes, I do love him, in a certain way.’

      ‘Not the way you love Tom?’ Diane ventured.

      ‘No.’

      ‘You could make a life with Jack, though?’

      Alexandra nodded. ‘I think so. Jack’s got a lot going for himself. He’s very attractive and charming, and we get on well. We’re compatible, he makes me laugh, and we understand each other, understand where we’re both coming from, which is sometimes the same place. We admire each other’s talents, and respect each other.’ She half-smiled at her mother. ‘He loves me, you know. He wants to marry me.’

      ‘Would you marry him?’ Diane asked quietly, hoping for an answer in the affirmative.

      Alexa leaned against her mother, and a deep sigh escaped her. Unexpectedly, tears spilled out of her eyes. Then she swiftly straightened, flicked the tears away with her fingertips. ‘I thought I could, Mom, I really did. But now I don’t know. Ever since that invitation arrived yesterday, I’ve been in a turmoil.’

      ‘You won’t be able to resist seeing Tom if you go to Paris, is that what you’re telling me?’

      ‘I guess I am.’

      ‘But you’re stronger than that…you’ve always been strong, even when you were a little girl.’

      Alexa was silent.

      After a short while, Diane said slowly, carefully, ‘Here’s what your loving and very devoted sounding board thinks. You have to forget Tom, as you know you should. You must put him out of your mind once and for all. He’s not for you, Alexa, or anybody else, in my opinion. What happened to his wife and child was unbearable, very, very tragic, and so heart-rending. But it was years ago. Sixteen years ago, to be precise. And if he’s not over it by now–’

      ‘He wasn’t over it three years ago, but I don’t know about now–’

      ‘–then he never will be,’ Diane continued in a very firm voice. ‘Your life is here in New York, not in Paris. For the most part, your work is here, and you know you can make a wonderful life with Jack. And that’s what you should do…’ Diane stopped, tightened her embrace, and said against her daughter’s glossy dark hair, ‘There are all kinds of love, you know. Degrees of love. And sometimes the great love of one’s life is not meant to last…perhaps that’s how it becomes the great love…by ending.’ Diane sighed, but after a moment she went on, ‘I know it’s hard to give someone up. But, in fact, Tom Conners gave you up, Alexa. Not vice versa, so why torture yourself. My advice to you is not to go to Paris. That way you won’t be tempted to see Tom, and open up all those wounds.’

      ‘I guess you’re right, Mom. You usually are. But Anya’s going to be really upset if I don’t go to the party.’

      ‘I’m sure she will be.’ There was a slight pause, and then Diane exclaimed, ‘There is an alternative! You and Jack could go to Paris together. Obviously, you couldn’t go looking for Tom if you were there with another man.’

      Want to bet? Alexandra thought, but said, ‘The invitation doesn’t include a guest. Only my name is written on it. And I’m sure Anya’s only invited former pupils and her family.’

      ‘But she wouldn’t СКАЧАТЬ