A Sudden Change of Heart. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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both okay, Gran,’ Laura protested.
‘I’m going to pop along to Claire’s room, I want to see how she’s feeling.’
‘Yes, Gran,’ Laura said and went into the bathroom.
Megan knocked on the door of Claire’s room and when there was no answer she went in. From the bathroom she could hear the sound of water running in the shower. Turning, she caught sight of herself in the mirror hanging on the wall above the antique French chest.
Pausing for a moment, Megan smoothed her hand over her dark chestnut hair and then straightened the collar of her pale blue shirt. Leaning closer, she stared at herself. How white her face was. But that was no surprise. Claire’s misadventure had upset her greatly, even though she had not let the girls see this. Laura had not yet given her the details of the accident, but obviously they had been in a precarious situation. And Laura had put herself at risk because she had run to Claire’s rescue. The wide part of the river was dangerous, and the outcome might have been very different. Megan shivered and goose bumps flew up her arms as she realized how terrible the consequences might have been. Little Mervyn…he hadn’t been so lucky when he had fallen into the lake…
She walked across the floor, stood gazing out of the window for a moment, waiting for Claire to emerge. At sixty-seven, Megan Morgan Valiant was a beautiful woman. Tall and slender, she held herself erect, and in her carriage and deportment she was very much the great Broadway musical star. Although the colour of her rich chestnut hair needed help from her hairdresser these days, it was, nevertheless, thick and luxuriant; her face was relatively free of wrinkles and had remained youthful. Her eyes were her most arresting feature. They were a deep vivid blue, large and set wide apart. Her granddaughter had inherited them, as well as her height and colouring. Lithe and full of energy, Megan was a woman who had remained young in spirit. Her career in the theatre was somewhat curtailed these days, through choice, but her popularity as a star had never waned.
‘Oh, it’s you, Grandma Megan,’ Claire said, sounding surprised as she stepped into the bedroom wrapped in a towel. ‘I’m feeling better after my shower. And warmer.’
Megan nodded. ‘But perhaps we should go and see the doctor in Kent –’
‘No, no, I don’t need a doctor,’ Claire interrupted. ‘I’m fine, honestly I am.’
‘What happened? Why did you venture into the river when you can’t swim, Claire dear?’
‘I didn’t. I fell in. I was picking flowers and slipped. I rolled down the bank. And I somehow got swept into the middle, into the deep part of the river.’
‘There’s some sort of strange current there,’ Megan explained. ‘And it is very dangerous. We’ve been aware of it for years. You’re very lucky Laura was with you.’
‘Oh but she wasn’t! I was alone. She must’ve heard me shouting for help. She dived in, but at first she couldn’t get me out of the water. My foot was caught in a roll of wire netting. She had to cut my sneaker off.’
‘My God, it’s worse than I thought! You were very lucky indeed!’
‘Yes, I was. I’d better go and dry my hair.’ Swinging around, Claire headed back into the bathroom. As she did the towel slipped down at one side, revealing part of her body.
‘Claire, whatever happened to your back?’ Megan exclaimed, staring at the yellow bruises under her shoulder blade.
‘I must have hurt myself when I fell into the river,’ Claire muttered, pulling the towel around herself swiftly.
‘Claire, those are old bruises,’ Megan answered, her voice gentle but concerned.
‘I fell off my bicycle in Central Park,’ Claire replied, and disappeared into the bathroom.
A few minutes later Megan found her husband in the dining room, where he was breakfasting on boiled eggs, thin buttered toast and his famous miner’s tea, which was very strong and sweet.
‘I heard all about it,’ Owen said as Megan hurried into the room. ‘Fenice told me, and from what she said they’re both all right, aren’t they, Megan?’
She nodded. ‘They are, but it could have been fatal for Claire,’ she replied, and then went on to explain what had happened to her.
‘Laura’s a plucky one, and strong for her age,’ Owen exclaimed. ‘And thank God she had the presence of mind to jump in and help Claire, rather than running back here for me or Tom. You say Claire’s foot got caught in a roll of wire netting. God knows how that came to be in the river. I’ll talk to Tom later, and he can lift it out.’ Owen gave Megan a pointed look and added, ‘But I’m afraid I’m going to insist Claire learns to swim. Laura and I will give her lessons in the swimming pool.’
‘That’s a good idea…’ Megan paused, leaned back in her chair and looked off into the distance.
Owen, watching her closely, said slowly, ‘I know, I know, my darling, this mishap has brought back bad memories for you…you’ve been thinking of poor little Mervyn.’
‘Yes, I have,’ Megan answered, her voice as quiet as his. Sitting up straighter, finding a smile, Megan went on, ‘I think I’ll have a cup of tea. I need it after all this.’ As she spoke she reached for the teapot and poured herself a cup.
Owen said, ‘I’m glad I helped Laura to become an athlete. It’s served her well, and will in the future.’
‘Laura’s always been brave, Owen, even when she was a small child. And quick thinking, as well.’
‘She idolizes Claire,’ Owen remarked, thinking out loud. ‘She’ll always rush to her rescue whatever the circumstances.’
‘I know.’ Megan sighed and looked across at Owen.
‘What is it?’ he asked, frowning. ‘You look troubled.’
‘Claire’s back is covered with old bruises.’
‘What?’ He sounded startled.
‘I saw them when she came out of the shower. She said she’d fallen off her bicycle in the park,’ Megan explained. ‘But you don’t believe her?’ ‘I don’t know whether I do or not.’
‘I’ve always thought the Bensons were a bit odd,’ Owen said, bringing his hand up to his generous mouth. He rubbed it thoughtfully, his dark eyes narrowing. ‘She could have fallen, you know.’
‘Yes…’ Megan was silent, but eventually she said, ‘I hope you and I live a long time, Owen, so that we can look after Laura and Claire, be there for them.’
Reaching out, he put his hand over hers and smiled at her lovingly. ‘So do I. But remember this…those two will always be there for each other.’
Winter
1996
Whenever she was in Paris on business and had an hour or two to spare, Laura Valiant inevitably headed for the Musée d’Orsay in the seventh arrondissement on the Left Bank.
Today was such a day. The moment her lunch with two prominent art-dealers from the Galerie Theoni was over, she thanked them, promised to be in touch about the Matisse, and said her goodbyes.
Leaving the Relais Plaza, she crossed the lobby of the Plaza Athénée Hotel and stepped out onto the avenue Montaigne.
There were no cabs on the rank in front of the hotel and none in sight, so she decided to walk. It was a cold