TouchofaDom (13 page)

“Let me get this straight,” Adele said, after looking
through the slim folder. “According to all this agency could discover, my
father lived in Nice for three years. That just confirms what I suspected and
you confirmed in the records of
Velours Noir
. He moved to Cannes and
bought a flat. Two years after that, he disappears without a trace but leaves
behind a wife.”

“That’s a bit iffy,” Branko said. “They found no trace of a
marriage or a divorce.”

“So he left Mother and set up house with a fancy woman and
gave her his name.” She sounded most put out. Understandable. “Then
disappeared. Sounds most peculiar, to put it mildly.”

“He could have died outside France. Maybe married this woman
overseas.”

“To use an expression Helen said the other day, he’s a piece
of work.”

“What next?” It had to be her choice, even if it made no
sense to him.

“I’m torn. Part of me wants to go raging up to this woman
and ask her what the blazes she was doing with my father. On the other hand if
she’s been a widow for fifteen years, it’s a bit late. Maybe I should just let
it go.” She paused. “I wonder if
Maman
knew about her, but never told
me.” She shook her head. “I think she’d have told me, if she knew. On the other
hand, she was always so emphatic about not talking about him and not wanting me
to know anything, so perhaps she did know all along but kept it to herself.”
She let out a great sigh and looked at him across the kitchen table.

Maybe he should have waited until they left the house to
show her the file but she’d wanted to know so much. “You can never really know
what someone is thinking or knows. She might have been trying to protect you.”

“You know, it wasn’t just us he abandoned, but his family
too. I often wondered if he was in jail but seems he really did leave his old
life behind and make a new one. And now he’s gone and I’ll never know why he
left.”

She reached across the table. “Let’s go and have dinner and
just let me be happy being with you, Branko.” Sounded perfect to him.

It was ideal up at
Le Nid d’Aigle
. The evening was
cool but pleasant in the sheltered garden, the tourists had left, most of them
at least, and only two other groups were eating in the evening. He looked at
her as she cut a square of pizza and spiked it with her fork. She looked up and
smiled as she met his eyes. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

Was she joking? No, she was serious. “Adele, I wanted to
help. So did Luc. I wish we’d found what you hoped for but we did the best we
could.”

“Branko you did miles above what was reasonable. You’ve been
a fantastic friend and Luc, well, few employers would have done what he did.”

The “friend” rather stung. “I hoped I was more than a
‘friend’.” Now he sounded piqued.

“Branko. I don’t let just anyone spank me, fuck me and
bugger me, so please, rest assured, you are a lot more than a ‘friend’.”

“How about your Dominant and your lover?” Might as well go
for broke. But if she said no…

“Only if I can be your submissive.”

“Maybe I should take you back to my place right now and have
you prove your submission.”

“That,” she replied, “is a wonderful idea but…” What the
hell was that “but” about? “Let me tell you what I really want to do.” Her
eyes, deep blue and earnest, met his. “I want to go into Cannes, it’s not that
far. I drove in with Helen when you and Monsieur Prioux were away. I want to
see where this woman lives. After all if it was my father’s property and he’s
dead, it should, by rights, be mine.”

“You’re going to throw some poor old woman out of her
house?”

“I don’t think so. Not unless it’s some enormous palatial
place that he had while Mother and I lived in three rooms, but I would at least
like to lay claim to it. Maitre Poulain could do that for me, couldn’t he?”

Didn’t sound unreasonable. “We can ask.”

“So, let’s finish this pizza. It’s too good to waste and
then, please, Branko, drive me there. It’s not late.”

* * * * *

It hadn’t been late when they left Eze but it was dark by
the time they drove along the
Croisette
in Cannes. “Thanks for humoring
me,” Adele said, resting her hand on Branko’s knee. “I needed to come and see
for myself.”

“Just ‘see’?”

“At first. If it’s some massive place worth millions of
euros…”

“You’ll claim it as your due as his daughter, so we can open
a kinky club there and have our own private dungeon that only you and I can
use.”

“We ought to let Helen and Luc use it too.”

She knew about Helen after that first evening but… “Luc?” he
asked.

“Oh please, Branko! I’ve looked at his library, he’s as bent
as a corkscrew.” That was one way of putting it. “Besides, Helen told me a lot
about him.”

“You and Helen have become very tight.” What else had she
told Adele?

“We had a good time over the weekend, talked, drove around
the hills, and all the way to Antibes and back. I like her.”

That might make for some interesting encounters one of these
fine days.

Meanwhile, with an address to find, he needed to concentrate
on his Garmin.

Rue Georges Clemenceau
was easy enough to find.
Parking wasn’t quite as simple but he found an illegal spot and it would have
to do.

“What now?” he asked Adele.

She shook her head. “Hell if I know. Better go and look, I
suppose.” He let her lead. He’d be her backup if she needed it. 189
bis
wasn’t so hard to find, it was a flat over a shoe repair shop. Not exactly
glamorous quarters, the long-absent Jules Royer had lived modestly.

Adele hesitated several minutes and just as Branko expected
her to turn around and say she wanted to go back, she stepped up to the door
and pressed the buzzer marked “Royer”.

“Hello?” A female voice spoke through the intercom.

“Madame Juliette Royer?” Adele asked.

“Yes.”

“Apologies for bothering you but I’ve some papers from
Maitre Poulain in Nice. May I come up?”

“What does he want? I’ve never heard of him.”

“Just a formality. There’s been a claim of ownership against
this property and I’m contacting everyone to confirm identity of the legal
owners.”

Adele had balls, no two ways about it. Lied well too.

“What do you need from me?”

“Just identification so we can confirm for the property
records.”

“Sounds most odd.”

The woman on the other side of the intercom was dead right.

“It’ll only take a couple of minutes. Please. You’re my last
call. If I get this done I can go home and it’s getting late.”

Adele won her over. The door lock buzzed and she went in.

Branko followed.

They were halfway up the first flight of stairs when he
caught up with her. “Adele,” he said, catching her by the elbow, “are you sure
about this? You don’t know what’s waiting up there.”

She stopped and shook her head. “Let me go, Branko, I need
to know. It’s bothered me all my life. If my father is dead, abandoned someone
else or had another family, I have to know.”

He so wanted to protect her from possible hurt and heartache
but recognized her need. “Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you.”

She moved down a step and kissed him. “Thank you for
understanding.” He didn’t really but recognized need when he saw it and Adele
needed to climb those stairs and face whatever and whoever awaited.

And he’d be right behind in case she needed him.

When they reached the second landing, a tall, gray-haired
woman stood before a closed door. So, she’d come to meet them. Was she
suspicious, cautious or just unwilling to let them inside her home?

“So,” she said. “You wish to confirm my identity. Here’s my
carte
d’identite
.” She held out the small plastic rectangle. “I am Juliette
Royer. Does that satisfy your
notaire
? Although why anyone needs to
verify I own my own property is beyond me.”

Adele walked across the landing toward her and, as she
reached the light from the landing window, the woman gasped. Shock wasn’t too
strong for the look on her face. “Pauline?” she asked, her voice tight and
harsh. She shook her head. “Forgive me, of course not. Look at this,” she said,
holding out her
carte d’identite.
“Verify I am who I am and perhaps I
can get back to cooking my dinner.”

“Pauline?” Adele repeated, ignoring the
carte
in the
woman’s hand and stepping forward so they both stood in the light. “You knew my
mother? Pauline Royer?”

The older woman grabbed the doorframe to steady herself.
Eyes wide, she was as pale as bleached rice when Branko stepped forward.

Alert to the all-around confusion and emotion, he came
close, looking from Adele to the older woman and meeting her blue eyes that
were wide with shock.

“How did you know my mother?” Adele demanded. “Was it
because of my father?”

“Your father…” the older woman whispered. She looked ready
to fall and Adele’s clenched fist suggested she was about to pummel her to get
an answer.

It was their eyes that explained everything. Facing each
other as they were, they couldn’t see it but for him it was like looking into
twin mirrors.

“I think,” he said, as a door across the landing opened at
Adele’s raised voice, “we need to finish this inside.”

Neither of them seemed inclined to move, so he pushed open
the door behind the older woman. “I must insist,” he said. “This doesn’t belong
out here.”

“Who do you think you are, young man?” she began. He ignored
her and bustled them both inside.

“Forgive me,
madame
,” he said, “intruding into your
home like this, but Adele has gone to great lengths to find you.”

“Adele?” Madame Royer said, her voice gravelly with shock.
“You are truly Adele? No wonder you like so like Pauline.”

“How do you know her?” Adele asked again.

The woman shook her head, confusion and worry etched all
over her face. She waved a hand at Adele. “Best you leave now. Or I’ll call the
police, say you forced your way in here.” She glared at Branko but made no
effort to reach for the mobile within reach on the table beside her.

“You wouldn’t do that to your daughter,” Branko said.

“Daughter?” Adele shook her head.

Tactless should be his middle name but there was no way to
do this gently or delicately. “Adele, despite all appearances to the contrary,
this is your father.” It was the only explanation.

Madame Royer sat and looked as if she’d been steamrollered.
Understandable. “Do you mind talking to us?” Branko asked.

For a few moments he thought she’d make good on her threats,
but she nodded. “It’s not me who’d mind,” she said, looking at Adele. “It’s
your mother who will have my carcass.”

“Mother is dead.” It came out rather curtly.

“Pauline, dead.” She wiped a tear from the corner of each
eye. “What happened?”

“Cancer.”

They all went silent.

“So, you came looking for me.” She looked at Branko. “Who
are you?”

“He’s my friend,” Adele said. “He’s been helping me.”

There followed an even longer, protracted silence. It
brought to Branko’s mind his grandmother’s saying about angels passing
overhead. If they were, they had one wild conversation to carry up to heaven.

Madame Royer was the first to speak. “You’d best have a
seat,” she said, “and I think we all need a
fortifiant
.
”

She brought three glasses to the table and filled each with
dark liquid from an unmarked bottle. She passed the first to Adele. “You need
it as much as I do. I never imagined this day would come.”

“You didn’t want to know me?” Adele asked, her voice tight
and harsh.

“It was, is, very complicated,” her father replied. “Perhaps
now you understand why I left you and your mother.”

What now? Adele was in shock, her father still alarmingly
pale and her hand shook as she passed Branko his glass.

Adele sat down and raised her glass. “To the truth.”

“Ask me what you want,” her father said.

“Why did you leave us?”

“Isn’t that obvious? Am I the father you imagined or would
have wanted? When I decided to change, your mother insisted I leave and never
see either of you again. I understood why. She was hurt, confused and felt
deceived. I had deceived her and myself trying to be what I wasn’t. So I went
as far away as I could and still be in France. I made financial provisions for
you and your mother and then I had to start working and preparing for my
change.

“I understand your hurt and anger, Adele. I missed seeing
you grow up but Pauline was adamant and I don’t blame her. Perhaps today we
might have made it work, but back then a family with two mothers would have
shocked and scandalized. I did what your mother wanted.”

“You could have stayed with us, just as you were,” Adele
said.

“And lived a lie? No, I did that for far too long as it
was.”

Another long silence followed. Branko wanted to say
something but honestly couldn’t think what. Better keep quiet.

“Did everyone in your family know?” Adele asked.

“My parents did and my brother. I don’t think my sister was
told, she was so much younger than us. Do you know my parents?” he asked. “Have
you met them?”

She shook her head. “I met my Uncle Alain for the first
time, a few weeks ago. He used to send me birthday presents when I was little.
He said your father had died but your mother is old and frail. I didn’t meet
her.”

“How is Alain?”

“Well. He runs a restaurant in Paris.”

“What did he say about me?”

“Nothing really but he urged me most strongly not to try to
find you.”

“He did, did he? And you ignored him.”