Jane has more secrets to impart.

Part 22 of 25 — Reconciliation

I called Jane’s mobile — it went to voicemail. I started crying again when I heard her voice.

“Jane, I’m so sorry for the way I reacted and I’m sorry for not trusting you. What you told me just left me dazed; it was all such a shock. Please come home, I love you and I… I… need you and I… I… miss you so much.”

I dropped the phone and dissolved into tears again. I walked over and collapsed onto the settee.

I must have fallen into a very deep sleep because I awoke several hours later to feel arms around me. I slowly looked up into those wonderful eyes and just flung my arms around her neck and kissed her for all I was worth. Then I dissolved into tears again. She just held me as I sobbed my heart out.

“You, missy, are the most infuriating creature I’ve ever known.” She kissed me to take the sting out of her words.

“I… I was so worried,” I said, still crying. “I imagined all sorts of things. I just couldn’t work out how you could possibly afford all this; the car, the house, the clothes, the train tickets. I was so worried that…. that….”

“You were worried that we’d been living it up on the proceeds of organised crime,” she interrupted.

“Y…yes.” I sniffled.

“You silly girl, why didn’t you ask?”

“I couldn’t bear to lose you and didn’t want to upset you.”

“I suppose I ought to take a lot of the blame for the way you felt. I meant to tell you earlier but it never seemed the right time. I’ve had girlfriends in the past. When I was at university, one girl tried to take me for a ride, and got very bitchy when it didn’t go her way. When I first joined the police, you had to declare information about your finances. My boss at the time couldn’t handle the fact that I had more money than he would probably see in his lifetime. When I parted from my last girlfriend, it was very messy. I decided to keep quiet about it until I had to tell you, although I’ve been trying to work it out since before your birthday. It sounds as though yesterday was as much a shock for you as it was for me. If you add into the equation all those new hormones coursing around your body, it’s no wonder that things got quite mixed up.”

I felt safe again; I was firmly held in Jane’s arms and I never wanted to let go. I had to ask; “Where did you stay last night?”

“Oh-oh; jealous, are we?”

I’m sure that the expression on my face betrayed my insecurity.

“Don’t worry,” she laughed, “I stayed at the hotel opposite GSD’s Head Office; just the one night, so as to give you time to come to terms with my little secret. Well, I hoped it was just one night. Much as I hated the idea, I was prepared to walk away if you were really angry with me. I was very relieved when I picked up your message.”

I snuggled in close; that felt so good. Then I burst into tears again. All the tension had built up and I shivered even while clinging tightly to Jane.

“You know I’d never hurt you, don’t you?” She said.

I nodded, still snivelling. “Maybe I’m still insecure; perhaps I’m still a victim of my past and find it difficult to trust anyone. I just can’t understand why everything you do seems to put me first.”

“You know why, don’t you? I’ve told you often enough.”

I nodded again and smiled through my tears.

She cuddled me tighter. I was inches away from her face.

When we eventually broke the kiss — about two hours later, by the feel of it — she said,

“Come on, get ready; smart but casual — and your eyes are red and puffy.”

“Pardon?”

“Sort yourself out; we’re going out for lunch.”

It took a while but I managed to not look too much like death warmed up. “Where are we going?”

“That’s for me to know and you to be surprised.” She looked smug, took out her mobile, and selected a number from her phonebook. When it picked up, she said, “It’s Jane; we’re on our way — a little later than expected; we’ll see you at one o’clock or thereabouts.”

When we were on the road, I asked again. “Where are we going?”

She just smiled.

I thought this was going to be a repeat of my birthday surprise weekend and therefore I wouldn’t find out until we arrived. I just settled down and enjoyed the ride, especially as the love of my life was again just inches away from me.

We crossed the motorway and headed out into the country. The route seemed familiar and I quickly worked out where our Sunday lunch would be.

We drove up to the farmhouse and stepped out of the car. The frenetic barking that I’d heard on my last visit told me that the dogs hadn’t lost their hearing. Shirley opened the door.

“Welcome to you both, and its great to meet you at last, Jane. Come inside and meet the family.”

I turned to Jane with a questioning look.

“All arranged last week when I found out that everyone visits for half-term week. I hadn’t planned on yesterday’s little upset, though.”

Shirley led us into the living room and introduced everyone. In addition to her husband Alex there were their son and daughters, together with their respective partners and families.

We had a great lunch and everyone was very complimentary about me, and about Jane and me. And of course all the women had to admire my engagement ring. We talked long into the evening.

Jane had volunteered me to read bedtime stories to the children. “She’s a natural.”

I didn’t realise that my face could become so red, so quickly.

We spent a while exchanging contact details and Jane mentioned that we hoped to be moving house in the near future. Of course, everyone wanted to know details so I left Jane to it while I read the bedtime stories.

“Thank you for a lovely day,” I said to Jane as I kissed her when we’d returned home.

“My pleasure,” she replied, “but Jenny darling?”

“Yes?”

“Trust me; and I’ve lots to tell you yet. I’m not telling you all at once as I don’t think you could take it all in.”

I hung my head, ashamed that I’d let her down. I started crying but she put a finger under my chin and lifted it. She smiled at me and bent her head. My arms went around her neck and we kissed. Slowly at first, gently, tenderly; the kiss built to a toe-curling crescendo that led to other things…

I thought that all was now right with my world, but I hadn’t allowed for the fact that Fate has plenty of large wrenches, regularly practices her throwing skills and is very good at landing them where they’ll do the most harm.

November 2004

November rushed by. Blink and you’d probably have missed it. Jane had let Masefield House, so was living at Coleridge House with me, not that I was complaining at all. She’d been working away from home for most of the month and I felt that I was due some of her attention. Apart from signing the contracts for Wroxall Gardens, I’d seen hardly anything of her and I considered that she was due a significant amount of leave. Sandi Bennett and her husband wanted to move as soon as possible so we arranged completion of the purchase of Wroxall Gardens for Friday 10th December. Because she was living at Coleridge House with me, Jane and I didn’t have to move straight away and we could decorate and furnish at leisure. Jane, meanwhile, would store her less valuable possessions in one of the garages at our new home.

Jane had already let slip that her birthday was Saturday 4th December. I had been taken aback when I’d discovered that she was twenty-nine years of age — nearly six years older than I was.

I planned a little surprise and told her to book holiday from December 1st to the 10th as I had organised a little birthday treat for her. It would also take in the completion date for Wroxall Gardens. I arranged a last-minute mini-holiday for us; we would do some Christmas shopping, see the sights and maybe acquire some designer clothes if our budget stretched that far.

Of course, I eventually had to tell her that I’d booked the train to Paris and also reserved a hotel room. She had previously told me that ‘we travel only First Class’, so that’s what we did; I just hoped that my credit card would stand the strain. Of course, I could now be dead if I hadn’t met Jane, so I didn’t begrudge a penny of the cost. I’d been able to save some of the money that Jane paid me for her share of the food and utilities and this went a long way to defraying the cost of the travel and hotel. I felt that I would gladly pay for almost anything that she could want, just so that I could keep her in my life.

December 2004

Our taxi delivered us to Winchester. Eurostar was a direct high-speed service from London Waterloo station to Paris Gare du Nord so transfer was easy, and I was relieved when my new passport received the minimum of scrutiny. Announcements on the train to France were in French and English and I was able to practice my school French on Jane and the staff.

We arrived in Paris mid-afternoon and took a taxi from the railway station to the hotel. I booked us in and Jane greeted the concierge.

 « Bonjour monsieur, avez-vous une suite au lieu de cette chambre, s’il vous plaá®t?  »

I looked at her in amazement. “Jane; this is my treat, but I can’t afford a suite; I can just about afford this room.”

“We don’t stay in ordinary hotel rooms,” she offered.

“Oh — but I can’t afford…”

“Only the best for my girl.” She laughed, extracting her credit card from her bag; I punched her lightly on the arm. “We’ll just upgrade a bit.”

A bit? This is like the Harley Court Hotel, only bigger

“If we’re staying here for a week, we’re not going to live in a broom cupboard.”

I gulped, and then vainly tried to follow the conversation as Jane and the concierge exchanged some rapid French.

I stood with my mouth open. “I know that you and your mother are French but that was amazing.”

“I spent much of my childhood in France. When here, I sometimes stay with my Aunt Sophie, my mother’s sister-in-law — and my mother is French, as I told you,” she said.

Hmm, that explains a lot

~ O ~

We had a wonderful time; we found a bistro where we had dinner. We liked it so much - it was friendly and welcoming — that we visited most evenings for our meal. On the first evening, we sat and looked over the menu. A couple of ancient-looking Parisian gentlemen obviously heard us speaking English and started muttering about ‘Touristes Anglaise’.

I smiled and said, “Bonsoir messieurs.” and Jane rattled off a stream of fluent French. Within a few minutes, they were practicing their English, we were conversing like old friends, and we all soon started making the contents of a couple of carafes of very good red wine disappear.

~ O ~

The next day we visited some of the well-known and less-well-known landmarks and I was constantly amazed by Jane’s familiarity with the city. On Friday she surprised me by saying that she had somewhere special in mind for lunch and dinner.

We again breakfasted on rolls, croissants and coffee. Mmm, French coffee! We took a taxi to Sacré-CÅ“ur and climbed the steps to the church. After doing the tourist thing, we walked back down and took in the marvellous view of Montmartre, which was spread out before us. At the bottom of the steps, Jane took my hand and, smiling, led me down a couple of tree-lined boulevards. We were just about to walk past an imposing house set back from the road, behind well-kept gardens, when Jane guided me in through the gates. I hissed, “What are you doing?”

She simply smiled and said, “We’re visiting my aunt.”

I’d known Jane for about eight months and every day seemed to be a learning experience. I never knew what she would do next.

The door was answered by a man in a dark suit, black tie and highly polished black shoes. He appeared to be in his mid to late fifties and had grey hair and spectacles. His face lit up when he saw Jane, and he flung the door open wide. I didn’t see the look that Jane gave him.

 « Ma… Mademoiselle Jacqueline, bienvenue! Entrez s’il vous plaá®t.  »

Jacqueline?

 « Bonjour, Albert, merci beaucoup. Je vous présent ma fiancée Jennifer Smith  »

 « Bienvenue, mademoiselle Jennifer  »

He preceded us into the house, where I stopped for a moment to look around. Paintings, sculptures and other works of art were dotted about in an entrance hall that would not have disgraced an art gallery. It reminded me very much of the Guildhall of an English city. I eventually tore my attention away as Jane led me into a sumptuous drawing room.

“Jane; how lovely to see you again! And this must be your intended. My! You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?”

“She is that,” Jane said, laughingly, and put her arm around me possessively. “Tante Sophie, permettez moi de tu présent Jennifer Ellen Smith. Jenny, may I present my aunt, La Comtesse Sophie Marie-Christine Saint-Gerard.”

I gulped.

Countess ? Should I curtsey?

Before I could decide, Sophie said, “Tut, tut! You know I don’t go in for all that aristocratic nonsense; I’m just your Aunt Sophie. Now, come and sit down and let’s catch up. Albert will bring refreshments.”

I was still trying to get my head around La Comtesse.

 « Je manque les cafétérias Françaises.  » After a sip of her coffee, Jane laughed, and then confessed, “Sorry, I forget that Jenny’s French is not yet up to speed. Tante Sophie and I always converse in French whenever I visit; when in France, I find myself thinking in French, even though I’ve lived in England for so long.”

Yet?

“I miss French coffee shops; no one makes coffee like the French and the Italians. That’s why I drink tea in England.” Then she said, “As you know, I haven’t seen Maman et Beau-pá¨re since I went to university, so I don’t know how they are.”

“So you didn’t hear about your step-father?”

“No,” Jane said in a measured tone, “What about him?”

Sophie explained, and Jane was visibly shaken by the news.

 « Quoi ? Beau-pá¨re est mort ? Dieu merci ! Mais Maman; elle est toute seule ?  »

“Yes; your mother is all alone. Now that your step-father has died, I think that she wants to heal the rift between you.”

“Rift? It’s a damned great chasm, and the bastard drove me away, not the other way around. She just seemed to do as she was told. Love can indeed be very blind.”

I listened with mounting horror. My world seemed to be crashing down around me.

Jane asked, “Does Maman have any idea where I am and what I’m doing?”

“She knows that we keep in touch; I am fairly sure that she doesn’t know where you live and anything about your work. I just told her that you should find each other yourselves — if you want to do so. I am prepared to act as an intermediary, but only if I think she is making a move towards reconciliation. As you know, she was very bossy, and was most upset with me when she found out that my darling á‰lise and I were planning to live together.”

 « Oá¹ est á‰lise ?  »

“á‰lise is shopping; she said that she would give us space to talk.”

“That is so thoughtful. I know that relations between mother and I will be strained, but she shouldn’t be alone, especially at Christmas and New Year. Is she planning to visit you, do you know?”

“I could ask, but how would you feel?”

“I said that I would never see her again while my stepfather was alive.” Jane turned to me. “I wouldn’t mind us spending Christmas with either my aunt or your family, but I’m not sure about my mother being here. I left home for several reasons, of which my sexuality and my support of Rosalie were but two. I suppose one of us should make the first move to try and reconcile. After all, it was my step-father that I hated the most.”

Her aunt asked, “Does Jennifer know about…”

“She knows about Rosalie and the attack on me,” she said — abruptly, I thought.

“About Christmas; we could all go to the chá¢teau. It would be lovely to have it full of life again; it gets so little use.”

My hand flew to my mouth.

“Aunt Sophie, I think that we are overwhelming Jenny.”

My limited French coped adequately with the word ‘chateau’; a castle - or mansion at least. This was getting bigger by the minute — and I don’t mean just the buildings. I thought I ought to say something. “Jane, what’s happened?”

“My step-father died of a heart attack three months ago; my mother is alone in that big house, although she may have to leave it soon. I suppose I ought to see if she wants to meet; we haven’t spoken for eleven years. Mother re-married when Rosalie and I were young; Papa, Mother’s first husband and my natural father, was killed in a car accident. Mother is Aunt Sophie’s sister-in-law. Beau-pá¨re …my step-father is…was… Lord Henry Wordsworth Claughton Manning; he adopted Rosalie and me — well, he adopted Robert and me. He was upset and angry when Robert became Rosalie; it meant that he would not now have a son and heir. He was infertile, so had to marry a woman who already had a son. That’s how Mother became Lady Hélá¨ne Marie-Christine Manning.”

I knew enough about English aristocracy and I was having some thoughts that I didn’t want to think — but there was no escape.

“If Lord Manning adopted you, then before you changed your name to Jane Dyson, you were…Lady Jane Manning?”

“Actually, I was named Jacqueline Marie-Christine Saint-Gerard at my baptism. After my stepfather adopted me I became Lady Jacqueline Marie-Christine Manning. I changed my name to Jane Marie-Christine Dyson before I went to university. Marie-Christine was our maternal great-great-grandmother; we girls all received her Christian name as our second forename. It’s a sort of family tradition.”

“D…do you have any other secrets?” I asked, timidly.

“No!” She said, sharply. Then she sighed and shrugged. “Well, yes, I do. The thing is, they’re not all my secrets. Anyway, I was going to tell you about my family - that was the reason for bringing you here today. It was unfortunate timing that Daddy Dearest snuffed it.”

“Jacqueline! Sorry, Jane!”

“Well Aunt, even before I came out as a lesbian, he was an evil bastard; he was a selfish brute and only really had time for the person that he thought was a son. When Robert became Rosalie, he nearly tore his hair out. He was royally angry; I wouldn’t have been surprised if he himself arranged for her to be killed. He could see his money and estates going to his brother’s family — and he was not at all happy about it. Rumour had it that Victor Manning was an utter sod and black sheep; had several mistresses and a number of illegitimate children. Then of course….” Her voice tailed off, as though she was going to say something else, but thought better of it.

I went with the first thoughts that I’d been having. “So you’re a real lady? Should I curtsey before I let you have your wicked way with me?”

“Not quite, my love; I was a ‘real lady’ as you so eloquently put it. I’m sure that Daddy Dearest would have looked for a way to rescind the adoption and, if you do curtsey, I’ll slap you — then I’ll have my wicked way!”

I giggled, then said, “No wonder you sound more like an off-duty socialite than an ordinary copper. And I could hear a trace of an accent but couldn’t place it.”

“One can’t always help one’s upbringing. I suppose I could learn to speak with a middle-English accent, but it’s not something I’ve thought about. Does it bother you?”

“What? Knowing that I’m engaged to the stepdaughter of an English Lord? It’s a bit overwhelming but, after all, you’re still my darling Jane. But do you consider me to be working class or something?”

“Stuff that! You’re my fiancée; you don’t get away that easily.”

With that, she grabbed me and enfolded me in her arms. I’d heard of toe-curling kisses — well this one was; it left me breathless. I rested my head on her chest and sighed contentedly. I caught sight of her aunt and saw her smiling.

á‰lise had returned from her shopping trip and it was obvious, by the way that they embraced, that she and Jane’s aunt were also very much in love. Jane introduced me and I again felt at ease, just as I had when I first met her Aunt Sophie.

The conversation over lunch ranged from Jane’s mother to what we might do for Christmas and New Year. I pointed out that I usually visited my parents. My brother, sister-in-law and the twins might want to join in the festivities - and now my wonderful partner. I couldn’t quite see how we would manage with everyone.

Our new house, although its five bedrooms would accommodate everyone, wouldn’t be decorated and furnished in time. I thought we might be able to work something out, given that there was a decent hotel nearby. Peter’s house was about the same size as ours, but didn’t have enough room for everyone. Again, there was the Harley Court.

Sophie simply said, “We’ll all go to Bourgogne then” as though there was no problem.

I was surprised and started to say, “but…but…”

“Do you want to make arrangements and let me know the details, Jane?”

Jane smiled at me and I decided that she and Aunt Sophie were obviously cast from the same mould; once they made up their minds, there was no point in arguing. Goodness knows what my family would think and say when I told them that they should book flights to France. Did my parents have current passports? I knew that Peter, Geena and the twins had up-to-date documents; they had, after all, been to Florida not that long ago. But would they be able to obtain flights this close to Christmas?

It seemed that these two hadn’t yet finished with surprises, as Jane asked her aunt, “Could Luisa collect us?”

Luisa?

“Of course; I’ll make sure that she’s available.”

Jane gave her aunt the contact details for Coleridge House. We had a lovely lunch, although my appetite was somewhat diminished. We talked for a little while after lunch; Jane and Sophie spent much of the time planning Christmas, while á‰lise and I left them to it and enjoyed a pleasant walk in the gardens. á‰lise was a charming woman and, although I had only limited French and she spoke only a little English, we got on very well, until Albert called us in for afternoon snacks and pre-dinner drinks.

Dinner was a small affair, with just us four women. We discussed Christmas and New Year and I was fairly certain that we could get all the family down to us. They could leave their cars at Wroxall Gardens and we could fly from Southampton. When I asked Jane about booking flights, she said that she would take care of everything and that I should let my parents know so that they could ensure that they had current passports. Then I should just get my parents, Geena, Peter, Rosalind and Geoffrey to our house. I liked the sound of that — our house.

~ O ~

December 4th was, of course, Jane’s birthday and I let her decide the programme for the day — after I‘d given her a couple of birthday presents. I sneaked out of bed and made some tea. Then I took a little parcel from my luggage and prepared my other gift.

Eventually I was ready, and delivered a tray to the bedroom. Jane had taken full advantage of my absence to stretch out on the bed and I took the opportunity to give her a birthday kiss.

“Happy birthday, my darling.”

“Hmm, you look scrumptious. Have you put the sign on the outside of the door? I don’t want to be disturbed while I unwrap my presents.”

I did as I was bid, then returned to the bed, where Jane removed the burgundy-coloured bra I was wearing and.…

Much later she said, “I suppose we’d better re-wrap my gift so that we can get some food; I don’t think it’s a good idea for room service staff to see who I had for breakfast.”

I giggled as I again headed for the bathroom.

~ O ~

As it was my first time in Paris, we visited the most prominent sights and then took the Metro to Chá¢telet where we explored the area, viewed the Há´tel de Ville (City Hall) and the Pompidou Centre.

Jane explained. “The City of Paris’s administration has been located on the site of the Há´tel de Ville since the Middle Ages. The present Há´tel de Ville houses the office of the Mayor of Paris and dates from the late nineteenth century. One day, I’ll try to give you a brief rundown of its chequered history.”

I was fascinated by the whole experience, not only travelling on the Paris Métro but visiting the area in the company of one so knowledgeable and linguistically fluent. In addition, as it was dark by late afternoon, the Há´tel de Ville was floodlit, which really brought the architecture to life.

“Do you fancy a visit to the Pompidou Centre? They’ve an extensive art collection.”

“Yes; could we go tomorrow?”

She nodded. “They open on Sundays and, if it’s a fine day, the panoramic view of Paris from the sixth floor is spectacular.”

So we did. She was right; the view was spectacular.

~ O ~

All too soon, it was time to return to our home in England, but I’ll always treasure the time we spent, and the new friends I made, in Paris. I didn’t know how I felt about the prospect of meeting Jane’s mother; she sounded like a right harridan.

End of part 22