Vince May - Presumed Dead

Alice came to him and taking both his hands in hers, looked up into his dark eyes and said warmly, ‘You are the kindest person I have ever met, thank you.’

They smiled at each other for a moment, then Philippe broke away saying, ‘I expect you would like a nice long soak in the bath. I will run it for you.’ With that, he went along the passage and into the bathroom.

Alice heard the water splashing into the bath and was just taking her jacket and fleece off, wondering what she was going to do for clothes when Philippe came back into her room with a pink toweling bathrobe. ‘Here you are,’ he said, handing her the robe. ‘I have put some clean towels in the bathroom and while you are having your bath, I will put some more of Louisa’s things out for you.’

‘Thank you,’ she said again. ‘I know how hard this must be for you. I’m very grateful.’

Philippe looked sad for a moment, then brightened and asked. ‘How about some dinner after your bath? You must be starving.’

‘Mmm, I could eat a horse!’

‘I don’t have a horse,’ he said seriously, ‘but I make a great spaghetti bolognese, if that would do.’

She laughed. ‘That’ll do fine.’

‘I’ll wait until I hear you get out of the bath before I start it, then you can take as long as you want.’

‘Okay,’ she said, ‘see you later, and thank you again.’

Alice sank down into the steaming bath water and started thinking about Ross again. The one thing she just couldn’t get her head around was the fact that he’d actually tried to kill her! Maybe I’m in denial, she thought, but I just can’t believe he would do such a thing! She went back over the years of their life together for the fiftieth time in the past two days, trying to find a reason.

She remembered how she’d been supremely happy during the first few months of their marriage, except in one important respect. As soon as she’d discovered she was pregnant, Ross had refused to share her bed on the basis that any marital activity, as he put it, might harm the unborn child. She’d found it very difficult to be angry with him because his motives had been so pure and noble, and she’d thought he was making such a supreme sacrifice. She’d been bitterly disappointed though, after such an active and exhilarating start to their married life. Every time she raised the subject, he’d promised that once the child was born, things would return to normal.

After Charles was born though, and the doctor had given her the all-clear, she’d gone to Ross, only to be disappointed again. Finally, she’d confronted him, and had been shocked when he’d broken down and wept. He’d told her it was the worry of not having any money that was preoccupying him, and that if only he didn’t have so many financial worries, he’d be a different man, the man she wanted him to be.

Although they’d never discussed it, she’d always assumed that he had a steady income from some source or other. He’d always seemed to have plenty of money. When he cried in front of her, confessing he was virtually bankrupt and up to his ears in debt, her heart had gone out to him. The following day, she’d cabled her lawyer in the States and made him a gift of half of her stocks and bonds, which had immediately given him a personal income of over a million pounds a year.

He’d been grateful and happy with that initially, and even made the occasional effort to visit her room, but it wasn’t the same as Monte. He started spending more and more time away. Before long his debts had mounted again and he’d come to her for more. She’d lost count of the number of times since then that she’d bailed him out of trouble with various gambling houses.

In the end, she’d been forced to accept that he just wasn’t interested in her physically. At first that made her question her own sexuality. Then it made her angry. Then she’d just been sad. But she’d stuck at her marriage and been faithful and giving, trying to make the best of it. In fact, she’d thought things had started looking up recently.

Just before the school holidays, Charles had asked if he could have two of his friends to stay, because their parents were abroad. The three young teenagers had arrived down from Eton like a whirlwind, and just as she’d been wondering how on earth she was going to cope on her own, Ross had cancelled all his gambling trips and stepped in.

He’d spent nearly the whole summer with them at the farm, swimming with the boys, carrying them around on his shoulders, wrestling with them and generally fooling about. They’d adored him, and he’d often taken them off for joyrides in his car or for flights in one of his planes from the private airstrip behind the house. And at night, he’d been more attentive towards her too, on quite a few occasions.

It had been a wonderful summer and she could see no reason why now, just as things were starting to come right, that he should dump her out of his plane like a sack of trash.

Alice stayed in the bath until the water was nearly cold, soothing her aching bones and soaking her cuts and bruises. Eventually, she let the water out then stood up and turned the shower on to wash her hair. She went back into her bedroom wearing the bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head like a turban to find that Philippe had been as good as his word. On the bed were four separate piles of clothing. There were knickers and bras, T-shirts and blouses, jeans and trousers and some summer dresses.

On the dressing table, she found a hairbrush and comb, a hair dryer and some basic items of makeup and hair care. The makeup and hair things were all brand new. Tears came to her eyes as she looked at all he’d done for her. She was deeply touched.

After she’d dried her hair and tied it back in a loose ponytail, she tried to patch up her face a little with some makeup, then went through the clothes for something to wear. She was nervous of wearing Louisa’s clothes, conscious that although Philippe had given them to her, it might upset him, but she really didn’t have any choice. Most of the things looked like they would fit her okay, thought the trousers and jeans were too long and the bras were two cup sizes too small. I guess Louisa must have been taller and thinner than me, she thought.

In the end, she chose one of the simple summer frocks and wore it with clean knickers but her own bra. Although she hated putting something back on that she’d already worn for three days, it was better than going without because she certainly did not want to appear improperly dressed in front of Philippe.

When she finally came out of her bedroom and padded barefoot through the house, she found him in the kitchen stirring a saucepan of bubbling bolognese sauce. He’d obviously showered, shaved and changed because his hair was clean and nicely combed back and he was wearing a white open neck shirt with navy blue slacks. The white shirt showed his deep suntan off to perfection and was protected from the volcanic bolognese sauce by a blue and white striped chef’s apron. Alice thought he looked very attractive.

Cool evening air streamed in through an open window and mixed with the wonderful aroma of onions and garlic. A small table with a red and white check cloth was laid for two with a single candle, a bottle of red wine and a basket of sliced French stick. A portable CD machine played Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. Philippe didn’t hear her come in.

Alice stood watching him for a few moments, drinking in the scene, then said, ‘Mmm, that smells good.’

He stopped stirring the saucepan and came slowly towards her. ‘You look wonderful,’ he breathed, then, taking her hands he asked ‘How are your cuts and grazes?’

‘Much better thank you, all nice and clean. I think the best thing is to let the air get to them now.’