Secrets from the Past

‘I missed a call from Cara earlier today. Apparently she found some of Dad’s pictures, and some of Mom she was really taken with, that I might want to use in my book,’ I confided.

‘Yes, they are great,’ Jessica said without turning around, placing underwear and small items in a chest of drawers. ‘We’ve been looking at Dad’s collections in his studio, and there’s a treasure trove there. We’ve left everything the way it is, since you’re the best judge, Serena. We want you to review everything.’

‘I will when I come to Nice.’

Straightening, Jessica turned around. ‘For Dad’s memorial dinner on April twenty-second, I know that. But can’t you come before then?’

I detected something in her voice, a flicker of concern behind her eyes, and wondered if everything was all right. Had Cara become depressed again? She had been very low since her fiancé had died. I was about to voice this thought, and changed my mind. I said, ‘I’ll get there as soon as I can, Jess, I promise.’

‘How’s the book coming along?’ she asked, closing the drawer.

‘I’m pleased with most of it. There’s just one chapter that needs work,’ I answered, and rose. ‘I’m going to make coffee. Do you want something to eat? Are you hungry?’

‘Not really, but I’d love some coffee, Pidge.’ She threw me a smile before going back to the carry-on and the last of her unpacking. ‘I’ll meet you in Mom’s den in a few minutes.’

‘Okay.’ I didn’t bother to correct her. She still referred to it as our mother’s den, sometimes even called it Mom’s sitting room, and it had been both. It was now my office, but even I associated it totally with our mother. It was the room in the apartment where I spent the most time.

‘I’d forgotten all about this album!’ my sister exclaimed ten minutes later, when I walked into my office carrying the tray holding coffee and cups and saucers.

‘Leaf through it, Jessica, it’s great! I can’t believe the way we all look,’ I answered, and placed the tray on the coffee table. Glancing at her, I added, ‘Even Dad was impressed with us that night of your gala. He took great pictures.’

Jessica was already turning the pages, staring at all the photographs and laughing out loud at times, exclaiming about some of the images of herself and Cara and me.

I poured coffee for us both and sat down in a chair opposite her. ‘That’s a lovely picture story Dad did, the way he took shots of you at every stage of the remodelling of the auction house. And you look great. We all do. Especially Mom.’

‘That’s true. Why were you interested in this particular album?’ she asked, finally closing the album, putting it back on the coffee table.

‘I was actually searching for the 1999 one,’ I explained. ‘Because I want to know what we were all doing then. You see, I need more information for that one chapter that needs rewriting. Do you remember anything much about that year?’

Jessica took the cup of coffee I was offering, and sat back on the sofa. ‘I certainly do. Aside from it being my first year in business, I got a divorce from Roger. Cara finished building her second large greenhouse. Dad was off in Kosovo – somewhere in the Balkans, anyway, covering a war. And you and Mom were not too happy with each other.’

Her last statement startled me and I sat up straighter, stared at her. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ I shook my head. ‘Mom and I weren’t quarrelling.’

‘That’s true, you weren’t, but she wasn’t too happy with you, Serena. Have you forgotten how angry she was with you?’

I was speechless for a moment, but my mind raced. After a long moment, I said, ‘Mom was never angry with me, ever, Jess. You must be mixing me up with Cara.’

‘No, I’m not. Mom was definitely angry with you in 1999. I know because I witnessed it. Do you want me to tell you about it?’

I could only nod.

SIX (#ulink_93e272c1-c88a-5afc-a887-fb9abe696db3)

Jessica’s announcement had taken me aback. I was certain she was mistaken, filled with disbelief as I sat waiting for her to explain her statement more fully.

After quietly scrutinizing me for a few seconds, she said softly, ‘I didn’t mean to upset you, Pidge.’

‘I know that, Jess. I’m not upset.’

‘But, darling, you look … stricken.’

‘Do I?’ I frowned. ‘Well, I’m not, I’m floored, because I have no recollection of this incident. I don’t remember Mom being angry with me, nor was I with her. Not ever. It was Cara she had disagreements with, or have you forgotten that?’

‘No, I haven’t, and you’re absolutely right. Mom and Cara often did have little upsets from time to time. But I honestly think you’ve simply forgotten the incident because—’

‘I’ve a very good memory. And you know that,’ I cut in. ‘A photographic memory, Dad called it.’

‘Perhaps you haven’t forgotten. Maybe you’ve blocked it out instead. Because you didn’t – don’t – want to remember something as distressing as a quarrel with our mother.’

She held me with her eyes, and I knew she wasn’t being difficult or arbitrary, only wished to help me. She had always been kind, loving – in a way much more than Cara had; Cara was extremely self-involved. Unless there was a crisis. Then Cara was the best at coping.

After a moment, somewhat reluctantly, I murmured, ‘Maybe you’re right. I must have blocked it out. And we’re going back a long time. To 1999.’

Jessica now said in that same kind, warm voice, ‘You know, you were very special to Mom and Dad, Serena, and being born eight years after us, you were a much-wanted baby. And therefore you were Mom’s little princess, a bit pampered and cosseted by her. And as you grew older, Dad treated you like the son he’d never had … that was a unique relationship.’

This was said without any rancour or jealousy. I knew she was just being truthful, matter of fact.

‘More like a pal,’ I remarked, ‘and I was a bit of a tomboy. But Mom cosseted all of us, Jess, not only me. That was her nature, she was devoted to Dad, you and Cara. And to Granny and Aunt Dora. That was the way she was, she was like …’ My voice trailed off, and I shook my head, at a loss.

Finally I explained, ‘I know this might sound odd, because Mom was so beautiful, but she was like an earth mother. That was the wonderful quality she had, the way she gave her love. She was the most giving person I’ve ever known.’

‘I agree with you,’ Jessica answered, and leaned forward. ‘We’ve been lucky, having had such great parents, Pidge. I’m very aware you had a tranquil relationship with our mother. But I also do know a situation developed between you and Mom that day.’

I remained silent, angry with myself for not being able to remember this incident. I felt like a fool. Maybe my sister was right, I’d blocked it out, obviously because I couldn’t bear to have anything mar my memories of my relationship with Mom. We had been so close. ‘Two peas in a pod,’ Dad used to call us.

As if reading my mind, Jessica said, ‘I’d like to tell you about that particular day, so that you understand. I don’t want your happy memories of Mom to be overshadowed. So can I?’

‘Yes,’ I answered. ‘Go ahead.’

Jessica did not speak, sat staring at me. It struck me that there was a flicker of apprehension in her eyes.

‘Go on, tell me, Jess. If you recall an incident between Mom and me, then obviously it happened. I know you wouldn’t make something up, you silly thing!’

‘Of course I wouldn’t!’ she exclaimed, horrified at the thought. ‘I’ve always told you the truth, and Cara too. Although sometimes, in the past, she hasn’t been honest with us, has she?’

‘She’s never lied, but she has omitted to tell us things. But she doesn’t do that now. Or does she?’

‘No, she doesn’t. Quite the opposite,’ Jessica responded and laughed. She took a deep breath, and began. ‘The incident took place at the end of September in 1999, the year you’re so curious about. We’d spent most of the year in Nice, with Dad and Harry coming and going from battle zones. Do you remember that?’

‘Yes, I do. Granny and Aunt Dora were travelling in Europe, and came for a visit. Dad and Harry went to Kosovo. The war had finally ended in June. They went back at the beginning of September to photograph the aftermath of the war. You were in the middle of your divorce. Cara was building her orchid business, finishing the second large greenhouse. And I was photographing her activities for Dad, doing a picture story. Like the one he’d shot of you the year before.’

‘You know a lot,’ my sister exclaimed, sounding pleased. ‘Anything else?’

‘I did speak to Dad on the phone, and it was a Saturday, I just remembered. I told him the shoot with Cara was going well. And that’s about it. Oh, wait, there was one other thing. I did say that I wanted to come with him and Harry the next time they covered a war.’

Jessica nodded. ‘That was it. Your comment to Dad. You hung up, and Mom asked you what you’d meant about covering a war. You told her that you had definitely made your mind up to become a war photographer, and wanted to work with Dad and Harry. To be on the front lines with them. She sort of went crazy, and she was really angry. She said she wouldn’t permit it. That she had worried about Dad’s safety all of their married life; that she wasn’t going to go through hell again, worrying about her youngest daughter getting killed.’

I had paid attention to every word Jessica had just uttered, and I really did not recall this outburst. Finally, I said, ‘I just don’t remember that conversation.’