Spilt Wine

57. Where There's a Will...

After they had fine-tuned the work order, David had signed it, and Aristide had left, Catherine picked up David's hand and said quietly, "We were going to talk about what's spinning in that head. Come! To the couch. Let Doctor Katy examine your troubled mind."

He lay back next to the corner of the couch, and she stretched out, her back across his midriff with her shoulders nestled into the soft cushion. They looked silently at each other.

Finally, Catherine said very softly, as she stroked his chest, "So what is troubling you — what's going on?"

"I'm not sure... I've so much noise in my head... So many conflicting messages, images of climbing, free, alone, unfettered. On a mountain arête, searching, sensing the route that leads onward, higher. Reaching the summit and finding immense pleasure in the moment but then finding no one there but me." He sighed.

"I've climbed solo most of my life, even before I saw my first mountain. I've done things on my own — in my own way. I've always loved my freedom to come and go, to move with my will, with my impulses, to follow my whims. They've always been good to me... Alone, I've always enjoyed my solitude and my self-sufficiency. Maybe I've simply convinced myself I'm happy being free because I've never found anyone to share my life with."

There was a long pause, then he said, "I'm afraid, I'm..." he looked away, then back into her eyes, "I love you," he said, his eyes watering.

"I don't see that as a problem at all," she said, as she sat to lick a tear as it rolled onto his lip. "I've known that for a long time."

"Yes, I suppose you must have — I'm not at all good at hiding my emotions, am I? — I just don't know how to express them in words."

"Often words aren't needed, David. Our spirits speak quite eloquently when we allow them to... Allowing them to is the thing."

"So why is loving you a problem for me? Why do I —?"

The phone rang. They kissed, and Catherine said, "You stay there, I'll get it. Keep that thought, I'll be right back."

Across the speaker came Grattien's voice telling her analysis easily showed the signatures on the transfer papers to be forgeries, crude forgeries. "The cadastral records are now being restored. You'll soon own the vineyards in Chambertin again."

"That's certainly a relief. I'm now back to half ownership of the domaine."

"Half?"

"Yes, Philippe inherits Francine's share as her widower. Pierre had no wife, no children. We don't even know if he had a will — yes he did — of course, he did. Why didn't I think of this earlier?" She snuggled her bum into David's front as he came up behind and wrapped her in his arms. "Being a lawyer, Pierre had insisted his brother and sister make wills. Both Francine and Pierre had given copies of their wills to Louis, naming him as their executor. They're upstairs in the vault with the other papers."

"You should look at those," Grattien said. "They will assist you in deciding what to do with the ashes. They are still at the crematorium in Paris waiting for your further instructions."

"Another thing I had forgotten about."

"I am being buzzed on the other line. I will see you with croissants and train tickets in the morning."

"I have the combination written down somewhere," Catherine said as she led David up the stairs. "Hidden where nobody would find it, probably not even me."

A few minutes later, as she was bending over and searching the back of a low cedar chest, he nuzzled up behind her, put one hand around her waist and the other across her chest to cup her left breast.

She sat up in bed nearly an hour later. "I know where it is." She hopped up and crossed the room to an armchair in the corner, then rolled it onto its side and read the three numbers off an oak slat on the bottom.

At the back of the small safe was a bundle in black ribbon. They sat on the bed as she untied it. "Which should I look at first?" She looked up at him and giggled. "Put that thing down. Didn't we just finish playing with it."

He looked down. "I guess it's on autopilot. You're such a gorgeous creature, it can't help saluting you."

She broke the seal on the envelope and pulled out Louis' will. "I knew this, he had told me everything of his would be left to me."

"Now Pierre," she said as she opened the next envelope and scanned through the simple testament. "Divided equally between Francine and Louis is the gist of it, a very simple will."

Catherine opened the third envelope and pulled out two separately folded pages, one imprinted Dernières Volontés, the other handwritten Tres Important. She looked up and into David's eyes. "This is interesting, I would think she wanted Louis to read this one first."

She unfolded the page and read, her eyes welling with tears, her hand beginning to tremble. "That fucking evil monster, that —"

"What is it?"

There was silence as Catherine sat staring at the page shaking in her hand. She slowly handed it to David then lay back on the bed and wept, the convulsive sobs shaking her whole body.

David read the short handwritten note, then quietly said, "I've heard of suicide notes... This is a murder note."

Francine had calmly explained that Philippe was a violent man, and that he often abused her verbally, emotionally and physically. She completed the note with, If I am found dead in mysterious circumstance, Philippe will have acted upon his frequent threat. Have my death very closely examined.

David moved across the bed to Catherine, pulled the duvet over them and they cuddled, his hand cradling the back of her head.