But it was a question out of left field, and it clearly took the big man by surprise. “How did you find out about that? There’s not many people know.”
Enzo just shrugged. “It’s my job. The way I understand it, you barely spoke for nearly twenty years.”
Much of Guy’s joviality left his face. “Yes.” He was lost for a moment in his own thoughts. “It was a woman, of course.”
“Elisabeth?”
He nodded and half-smiled. A touch of sadness in it. “Yes.”
“What happened?”
“We met her at the same time. While we were still working as apprentices for the brothers Blanc. And I guess we both fell for her that very first day. But it was Marc who asked her out first. God knows where he found the courage, because he was a shy boy in those days. I was the one who knew how to chat up the girls. But he beat me to it, and I could have kicked his skinny ass.” He pushed his hands deep in his pockets and bent his head into the wind to set them walking south along the ridge. Enzo followed, straining to catch his words above the whine of the wind.
“They went out a few times, and then she seemed to lose interest. At least, that’s how I saw it. It wasn’t a regular copain, copine thing. I knew she had knocked him back on a couple of dates, so I asked her out. And she said yes. I didn’t see any point in telling Marc. I mean, he never discussed her with me anyway. I started seeing her quite regularly. She told me she wasn’t seeing Marc anymore, but I think they still went out from time to time.”
He took a deep breath and stopped, turning to face Enzo, and the wind caught his beret and whipped it away on its edge. Guy flailed at it with a futile hand in an attempt to catch it. But it was gone, and what was left of his hair stood almost straight up, waving in the current of air like a sea anemone. “Damn!” Then he grinned unexpectedly. “Probably Marc’s ghost getting his own back.”
And whatever animosity there had been between them at one time, Enzo could see that Guy still had genuine fondness in the memory of his brother. “So what happened?”
“He was out one night, playing petanque at the boulodrome. He loved that, you know. And he was good at it. Used to gamble half his wages on his ability to drop those balls right on the jack.” He shook a smiling head at the memory. “Anyway, I knew he wouldn’t be back for some hours and persuaded Elisabeth to come to the Lion d’Or. I figured I could smuggle her in through the back door. And the only way I was going to have sex with her was by providing some privacy and a bed.” He ran a hand back across his head in a vain attempt to tame his hair. “Anyway, Marc had a bad night at the boules, and he came home early. Found us in bed.” He pulled in his mouth, lips pressed together in regret. “And that was it.”
“That was what?”
“The end of our relationship. Me and Marc, I mean. He went crazy. Wouldn’t talk to me, refused to share a room with me. Managed to make all the other apprentices see me as some kind of traitor. Did everything he could to make an idiot of me in the kitchen. So I quit. Fuck it! I was never cut out for it anyway. And I fell straight into the first course that would take me.” He laughed. “Accountancy! I’d never have seen that coming in a million years. But you know what? Turned out I was good at it. A head for figures I never knew I had.”
“And Elisabeth?”
“Oh, I kept seeing her. And when she finished her training we got a little apartment together. She was earning, I had a summer job. We had a little money, and it was bliss. At first. Eating for next to nothing in all those cheap little bistros, walking together in the park, making love whenever we felt like it. Sleeping all day when she was on the night-shift. I thought I had discovered heaven on earth.”
“But?”
His smile was tinged with sadness. “Yes. There’s always a but, isn’t there? In this case, the but was that it didn’t last. By the time I was going into my second year in college, it was over. Whatever the magic was, we’d used it all up. Spent it. Gone. Just like Elisabeth. And all I was left with was a brother who thought I’d betrayed him. A brother who wouldn’t talk to me for… yes, you’re right… nearly twenty years.”
They started walking again, the ridge dipping ahead of them, carrying them down toward the southern treeline and the old ruined buron.
“I went to Paris when I finished my studies and learned a few years later that he and Elisabeth had got together again. Of course I was never invited to the wedding. The only contact we had was when our folks were killed in a car accident and we had to settle the issue of inheritance.
“Marc wanted to continue to run the auberge as a hotel and try to make his name with the restaurant. I didn’t see why not. So the lawyers put together a deal whereby he paid me rental on my half of the property, and I let him get on with it. I tried to speak to him at that time, but he still wouldn’t have it. And so my lawyer spoke to his lawyer, and his accountant spoke to me.” He sighed. “Sad, really.”
“What brought about the change?”
“Marc did. Quite out of the blue. I’d been following his progress at a distance. The early critiques of the restaurant. The first Michelin star. The second. He was becoming a star himself. You know, it’s funny Enzo, there was a time when chefs were servants employed by the wealthy, or hired by restauranteurs or hoteliers. Now the top chefs are celebrities in their own right and the people who once employed them bow and scrape at their feet.” He laughed. “I love the irony in that.”
They clambered over some rocks, then, and across a wet stretch of bogland that sucked at their feet.
“Anyway, I got a call from him one day. I couldn’t believe it when I heard his voice on the phone. I could hear other voices in the background, like there was some kind of party going on, and he might have had too much to drink. He’d just heard that day that he was getting his third star. It still wasn’t public knowledge. It made me think of the day the Blanc brothers got theirs, and even the apprentices got to drink champagne. He said he needed more than a silent partner now. He needed someone who would know how to run a three-star business. And if I was prepared to put the past behind us, then so was he.”
Enzo searched his face as they came to a halt by the tumbledown buron. “And how did you feel about that?”
“I was rotting in Paris, Enzo. Gazing into a grey future. I jumped at the chance. And, you know, it made sense. In this business you don’t employ outsiders. They’ll steal from you. Marc needed someone. I was family. So we buried the hatchet and built the multi-million-euro Fraysse empire together. A brand that has survived everything.” He cast solemn blue eyes in the direction of the buron. “Even if Marc didn’t.”
“And you and Elisabeth?”
Guy threw him a quick look. “What about us?”
“Well, wasn’t it a little bit difficult, given your history?”
Guy just shook his head sadly. “What we had, way back, was special, I think. Intense. But the light that burns twice as bright burns half as long, Enzo. We were burnt out so long before I came back to Saint-Pierre that we were like strangers, really. And in many ways still are. We might run the business together, but our private lives, such as they are, never cross.”
Chapter Eighteen
A fourteenth century monument historique, Chateau de Puymule sat up on a rocky mound above a tiny collection of mediaeval houses in a bend on the road about two kilometres below Saint-Pierre. The turreted roofs at each corner of this tall, square stone edifice gave it a Disneyesque appearance that was not quite real. Trees and rock gardens climbed the slopes all around it behind high iron railings. A path wound up from the gate to an arched entrance beneath a square tower with a steeply pointed roof.
When Enzo pulled up on the road below, the light was failing. It was not yet dark enough to trigger the floodlights that would illuminate it against a black sky once night had fallen, but it was the kind of twilight that robbed the world of clarity and created uncertainty in the shadows.
There were no lights in any of the houses, and only the distant sound of a barking dog and the smell of woodsmoke in the air gave any indication that there was life nearby.
Enzo checked his watch. He had overestimated how long it would take him to get here, so he was a little
