New Beginnings, Madeleine

The restaurant was just perfect,like everything that Jean-Claude took care of. It was warm and welcoming and their table was in an alcove so they could chatter and laugh without disturbing anyone.

Madeleine glanced round the table. As always her heart leapt as she caught Jean-Claude's eye. Young Ricky was gazing at him with adoration and laughing with delight at Jean-Claude's tales.

Here round this table were the people she loved with all her heart. Her dear children Amelia and Paul, their families and her dearly loved Jean-Claude. She never thought she would be rewarded in later life with such love.

She had been blessed with natural beauty, and thanks to her grandmother Estelle she had learned from a young age to be groomed and chic and had given all her energy to her studies. Maths and Latin had been her passion. There were no surprises there, either you were right or wrong, there was a logic which gave harmony to her mind. She developed a passion for Finance and had a rare instinct.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Anne, her son's mother-in-law who was sitting on her right,

'Madeleine, we can never thank you enough. This is so wonderful for us to be together. You are so generous and Jean-Claude  has such a gift for communicating, we have never seen Ricky so animated, and now the sanctuary and coming here like this on a plane, we are so happy.' Anne stopped and wiped a tear from her eye.

Madeleine patted her hand,

'The pleasure is all mine chère Anne. I have always wanted a family and now 'voilà '. The same goes for Jean-Claude. '

The waiter passed and filled their glasses and the two women raised them smiling and their eyes locked, deep warm smiles spreading across their faces.

Generosity is often misunderstood, Madeleine's father used to tell her. You must be discerning and discrete. Not everyone understands it.  For a long time Madeleine had struggled with this, both husbands taking advantage of her but she had now learned to be generous in many ways and knew she had helped many people who would never know she was the one to thank for their good fortune. the word her grandmother used was 'grace', 'You have grace Madeleine and everything comes from your heart.'

Paul was standing up as if to make an announcement. She saw Greta caress her stomach and turned to Anne, they grasped hands under the table.

New Beginnings, Jean-Claude

 Jean-Claude looked around the table at all the happy warm faces, chattering and  calling across to each other to join in each others' conversations. 

 Twelve year old Ricky was sitting next to him, his hand on his arm and one finger tracing the scar. He still couldn't believe he'd told Ricky how he got the scar. It was a tale he had always kept to himself. He'd been laying pipes in Mexico and one of the girls had invited him for a swim in the nearby river.  She had jumped in first and he was enjoying the view of her sensuous moves in the water when there was a shout from one of the men.

'Crocodile! Get out!.

Without hesitating Jean-Claude grabbed a liana and swung into the water where the girl was frozen in horror..
 What he did next was legendary in the village and he was treated as a hero for the rest of his stay.  He still felt a bit embarrassed about it though. After all the really heroic adventures he'd  had the crocodile fight was probably the most ridiculous.

Jean-Claude had just made Ricky laugh by telling him how he had learned to speak a language called Dong. He had been working in China and was enthralled at how two of his workers would sing together while they worked. Jean-Claude had picked up quite a bit of the language and as he sang gently in Dong, Ricky closed his eyes and tapped out the rhythm.

Next to Ricky was his older sister Polly talking animatedly in perfect French to the handsome young man on her right. This was Alexandre. His mother was Amelie, Madeleine's daughter by her second husband Philippe. Amelie was here with her husband Florian because Madeleine had invited them to come from London where they had been for New Year's eve. 

  Then there was Paul, Madeleine's son from Francis her first husband, and his adorable wife Greta. Then Greta's dear kind sister Joyce and husband Martin. Next to Madeleine was Anne, Joyce and Greta's mother and then their father Malcolm. They all looked so happy to be together. He had never dared hope he would find a family like this. Part of him never believed such kind uncomplicated people existed.

Jean-Claude looked across at Madeleine and as he caught her eye he winked at her, causing a blush to spread up from her neck. He loved watching the effect he had on her. He raised his glass  and winked again. She giggled and he saw the amazing young girl she must have been. Oh how he wished he'd known her then, but he felt so grateful to know her now.

Jean-_Claude had spent forty years travelling to exotic locations, laying pipes, at least that's how he saw it.  The people in the places he worked  saw him more as a life-saver, a brilliant engineer linking them to the rest of the world.  In the evenings the local girls would pass him notes, thrilled that such a handsome stranger had appeared.  The men were always in awe of his expertise and eager to learn all they could.
All his memories of the women he'd met were sweet. Aromas of spice and frangipan, exotic scents and ointments, but he had never met anyone who had made him want to stay, and he'd never met anyone he wanted to take back to his beloved France.

Then he had met her, in the most unlikely place, at the dentist in Paris.  Just after his sixtieth birthday he'd gone to Paris to catch up with an old friend, Olivier a pilot who had accompanied him around the remotest parts of China.  While staying with him Jean-Claude had  broken a tooth  chewing on a bit of nougat.  Olivier had taken him to his dentist and as soon as they entered the waiting room he'd seen her. He felt like he had found all the women he'd ever loved in one person. 

He felt the gentle passion and devotion of the women of the East, the sultriness of the dark-eyed beauties of South America, the sweet warm perfumes of Africa, the pragmatism of Mittel Europe. All the women he had ever dreamed of were there in her.

. She was with two tired-looking men.  She looked up at Olivier and Jean-Claude as they entered the room and it felt as though a streak of electricity passed around the room. Madeleine had stood up and faced them like a cowboy from a Western facing an adversary.  Then she had looked straight at Jean-Claude..

'These are my two ex husbands, Philippe and Francis.  I am here to pay for their teeth to be made perfect for my daughter's wedding. I am very fond of both of them, but they are useless with money and young women.'

Then she had sat down and smiled broadly at Jean-Claude.

Jean-Claude and Olivier had both thrown back their heads and laughed loudly. It was her way of telling him she was free. They had hardly been apart since then.

There was a scraping of chairs and Paul stood up.

'It is wonderful to be together today and we have to thank Jean-Claude and his friend Olivier for making it possible.'

There was a lot of cheering and  glasses raised.

' It is especially wonderful because Greta and I have some news that we would like to share with you.'
He glanced towards Greta and she subconsciously caressed her stomach.

Madeleine and Anne gasped and clutched each other, tears in their eyes,  Polly ran round the table and hugged her auntie. Joyce and Amelie beamed  at each other across the table.
Paul cleared his throat loudly.

'Hey I haven't said what it is yet? What is it with you women?' He laughed and put his arm round Greta.

The waiter came in with a tray of glasses and a bottle of champagne.

Jean-Claude squeezed Ricky's arm and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

' There's so much love in this room young man, we're both in the very best place.'

New beginnings- Joyce

Joyce quietly let herself out of her sister's house and sat in her car. She couldn't stop grinning. What a wonderful surprise. She still cpuldn't believe that she was part of such a rich, loving, dynamic family. Her handsome French brother-in-law.   His glamorous mother Madeleine and her new husband that reminded her of the Frenchman in a Daphne du Maurier novel and the whole entourage of exes and step-children that  had made them all so welcome.

  Joyce's early years had been very quiet and rather lonely. Her parents were both only children and  her grandparents had lived  in New Zealand  working as teachers. They'd come back for their retirement years and were delighted to get to know their granddaughters and help look after Greta.

When Joyce was born her mother had suffered from what is now openly referred to as Post-natal depression but in those days  women were told to just get on with things and not make a fuss. Joyce's mum, Anne  had opened up to Joyce when she was expecting Polly. She had told her that without her father Malcolm, she couldn't imagine how lonely she would have been.  It had taken her some years to fnd the courage to have Greta.

 Doctors understood Poat-natal depression more now. It was nothing to be ashamed of anymore.  There were lots of ways to deal with it. Joyce's mother was full of advice on how to recognize the signs and how to help.

'You won't be on your own Joyce, you've got me and Greta. It's going to be wonderful.'
Polly had been the same sirt of baby as her auntie Greta.  Placid and easy, with a passionate streak and a wicked sense of humour. Polly adored her auntie Greta and they sometimes seemed like sisteers themselves.

Joyce thought of the day when Greta was born. It seemed that as she gazed at the three of them peering into her cot and she greatly approved of her  family. She beamed her way through childhood, filling the house with laughter and  song. Joyce would come home from school and Greta would hurl herself at her sister, flinging her arms around her neck and covering her with kisses. The loneliness deep inside Joyce started to be replaced with other feelings. A fierce love and desire to protect her little sister, she vowed to be her guardian angel.

Joyce switched on her car radio. One of her favourite songs by Pink was playing. She drove home  joining in and singing at the top of her voice. She felt like celebrating.
When she got home she was delighted to see that Martin was already there. She entered her house calling out his name and he quickly appeared to envelop her in one of his bear hugs.

'Ricky's done wonders at school today. He's done a painting of Jean-Claude being attacked by a crocodile. He really sees him as a super hero. Polly's in her room, would you like a cup of tea.?'

Joyce sank gratefully onto a kitchen chair. Polly and Ricky came in and kissed her. They both looked very excited about something.
She put her arms round her two children and breathed in their lovely clean smell of apple and lime shampoo.
 Polly at twenty-five was the same age that she'd been when she had had her. Times have changed though, Joyce thought,  and none of Polly's friends seemed to want to get married or have children.  Joyce ruffled Ricky's hair and he turned to grin at her. He was nearly fourteen and growing fast.
 Joyce had had trouble conceiving and waited twelve years to have another baby. She'd known before the doctors that Ricky was different. He didn't look her in the eye and she couldn't engagé with him like she had with Polly. When the doctor had called her and Martin into their office and told them, Martin had calmly taken her hand and looked straight at the doctor.

'We'll give the little fellow the best life we can.'

Joyce had broken into tears. The doctor was about to say something to console her but then he saw the look if immense gratitude and love that she had given Martin and sat down again.

'We'll help you as best we can and there are a lot of excellent Pyschologists and schools that will be looking after you. Ricky will be fine.'

Martin handed her the tea and a slice of Christmas cake.

'We've just had a phone call from Jean-Claude. He and Madeleine are coming her next weekend and we're all going out for a party. I can't get over how kind they all are.'

Polly clapped her hands and Ricky grinned at his sister.

Joyce looked at her family, faces aglow.  It often seemed that it was Greta who was her guardian angel. She'd take Polly to the sales to buy new dresses for the party. There was going to be a very special celebration.

New Beginnings, Paul

Sometimes Paul felt as though he was part of his camera, as though he had always lived his life looking through a lens and maybe any minute a voice would yell out saying 'Cut!! Sorry got to do it all again.' 

His mother liked to jokethat since he was a baby  he formed his little hands into a square whenever she looked into his cot , to put her in focus and concentrate on her features. 

He had always been able to pick out a seemingly insignificant detail in his surroundings, like a quirky chimney on a roof, a little bird with a worm in its beak pausing before a nest, a ray of sunshine throwing a shadow across a table and lighting up the sunbeams.

 His teachers had noticed this ability straight away and encouraged him to study at the Academie des Beaux Arts in Paris.

His phone lit up. It was his mother.Madeleine.   Ever since his sister Amelie had shown her how to use Facetime  she rang him every day.

'Oh Cheri, you look so tired. You haven't shaved today non? '

Paul smiled at his mother.'

 ' You instead maman, are radiant. I like your hair like that.'

His mother tucked a small strand of her glossy auburn hair behind one ear and turned her head making her dangly silver earrings catch the light.

'Thank you Paul. I had it cut especially to show off the earrings that you and dear Greta sent me for Christmas. '

She paused to take a sip from a glass of champagne.

' Now, what I want to tell you is that Jean Claude 's friend Olivier the one with a private plane  is coming to Birmingham  to an exhibition and there is room for the two of us. We would like to come and see you this weekend and take you all out for a wonderful meal. Jean-Claude will book somewhere really nice. And  please ask everyone to come. I have already mentioned it to Anne and Malcolm. Jean -Claude sends his love to Ricky. They have a real entente,  did you see the way they are together.?'

A pretty blonde girl  appeared in front of Paul's mother and topped up the glass of champagne.

'Thank you Morgan. This is my son isn't he handsome?'

Morgan raised her eyes shyly to the i phone screen and smiled.
Paul nodded his acknowledgement.

'But where are you maman?  I am at work and must finish a shoot before this evening.'

'I'm having a pedicure. By the way which nail varnish do you prefer?'

She held up two bottles of brightly coloured varnish.

Paul grinned.' Oh the hot pink, it goes with your blouse. I am sorry but I must go,

'Thank Jean-Claude I am sure everyone will be delighted to come. It will be a great start to the New Year.'

As Paul walked back to the studio he let out a chuckle. At seventy, with two children from two husbands,  hardly anyone would guess that his mother was a renowned Financial Genius. She had doubled the fortunes of her first two husbands, which they had soon frittered away.  They still adored her and were always asking her for advice. Both the husbands had much younger wives now and other children but she had managed to keep everyone together in harmony. She had an instinctive knowledge of how to keep people happy. After two  marriages  his mother had at last found the ideal man for her. Jean-Claude was some sort of engineer who had won all sorts of awards for his international expertise. No-one was sure what he had done with his life, but he spoke six languages, some quite obscure and had a scar on the underside of his arm.  Now in his early seventies, he was a cross between Robert Redford and Indiana Jones ,  he was still a formidable figure and was completely devoted to his mother Madeleine. He also had a heart of gold.  He had never had a family of his own and was delighted to have found one at last.

Paul looked at his phone. He was still thinking about the text that Greta had sent. Something very important to tell you this evening I love you G X.'
She must want to tell him personally otherwise she would have rung. He knew how upset she was about their  little cat Timmy but she wouldn't have wanted to distress him about that at work. What could it be?

He loved his work. He loved seeing his vision of the life going on around him ransformed, bringing out the beauty of details that often only he had observed. 

For a long time he had worked with fashion and photographed some of the most beautiful women in the world.

 He had been doing this when he met Greta. He had been filming a fly-on-the-wall documentary of the fashion world. He had walked into the make-up studio and there she was.  

She looked so tiny next to the tall willowy blonde models in the room. Her elfin features were framed by a neat glossy bob. She was perched on the stool with her make-up brushes poised, studying the model's face in front of her with the intensity of Cèzanne looking at the St.Victoire. He had tried to attract her attention with witty remarks and comments, circling round her with his camera lens framing the scene. He had stopped and looked right at her. It was like a thunderbolt going through him, making him hold his breath and gasp with the intensity of the feeling. He who had seen such universal beauty now saw what he had been searching for, all there in the eyes of this woman.

 Hidden there under her silky fringe and looking back at him was the eternal fire of passion. For the first time in years he put his camera down. There was no lens between them, no filter, just the two of them looking at each other. He had found her.  She was The One.

Paul  walked into the studio where all the staff and camera team were still working.

'I think that's enough for today. I'd like to get home early to avoid the fog. So thanks everyone and we'll re-schedule this evening.'

On the drive home Paul thought of letting Greta know and then decided to surprise her.
Thanks to his mother guidance and encouragement he had always worked hard and looked after his finances. At nearly fifty he felt that he was ready for a change. He wanted to spend more time with Greta.

 His sister-in-law Joyce had got him interested in animal sanctuaries. 

He had a new book coming out in the Spring. It was all about a seal sanctuary in Cornwall that he and Greta had visited. 

Greta had been on a course to learn how to make-up people with facial disfigurements  near the sanctuary and the two of them had spent a happy Summer there.

 Paul was always brimming with ideas and thinking of new projects. This was just what he needed.

He parked his car next to his sister-in-law Joyce's and let himself in.

New Beginnings - Greta

The last rays of the January sunlight glided across the room. 

 They turned to the fairy on top of the tree like a spotlight. Her wings twinkled and sparkled and Greta looked up and smiled at her as she went to the window to admire the sunset.

Greta had always enjoyed taking down the Christmas decorations. She had a ritual to welcome the Twelfth night full of good luck omens and portents.  This year though she wanted to linger for awhile, she needed to go over the events of the last few weeks. She needed to put her emotions in harmony.

 Greta had wanted to keep the decorations up for a while longer so she could hang on to the happiness that she had felt putting them up with her little cat Timmy. It felt like she needed to keep them longer sort of in his honour.
Paul  had brought up the boxes from the garage before leaving for work that morning and had helped her unwind the lights and carefully packed them away for next year.  Now it already seemed like it was time to move on.
Greta had a ritual for taking down and putting up the decorations. At the end of November she would put on her favourite Christmas Cd or a film, make a cup of tea and warm a mince pie and then start decorating the tree.

 Each decoration had a story behind it.
The angel on the top from their honeymoon, the baubles made by her niece,  Polly, The Provencal figures from her French mother-in-law, Madeleine,the wooden snowmen and hearts from their holiday in Austria.  When she'd finished, Greta would step back and admire her work, she saw it as a sort of happy memory tree that would protect and warm the house through all the dark December days.

Timmy had played with the tinsel while she was wrapping it round the tree.  Tears came to her eyes and there was an ache in her heart. How she longed for those days to return now. She wanted to immerse herself in the cosy comfort of the days leading up to Christmas.
The evenings now seemed too bright, she was being hurtled too briskly into the New Year and she didn't feel ready.

Her phone rang and she saw it was her sister, Joyce.

'Hi Joyce, have you seen the sunset it's beautiful'.

Joyce was her big sister, older by nine years. 

'Yes it's beautiful isn't it? Mind if I come round after work?' Is Paul working?'

Greta felt a surge of warmth towards her sister,

 'I'd love to see you. we'll finish up the mulled wine. Paul's doing a shoot in London and won't be back till late.'

Joyce worked in an Animal rescue centre and now her elder daughter Polly was following in her footsteps. 

Greta had married late and then been told it would b difficult fo her to conceive but she had always enjoyed being a popular auntie. She'd seen how much it took out of her sister, looking after Polly and her little brother Ricky an  autistic little boy and how important it must be to have the right man by your side. Joyce's husband Martin was a great family man, always there for his wife and daughter and helping to look after his son. He did voluntary work in the day centre that Ricky went to,  reading stories and building models. Her parents, Anne and Malcolm, often helped out there too and the people that worked there told them this all helped create a family environment for the children.

 Greta was already well into her thirties when she met Paul  on a Fashion shoot in Paris.

 It was love at first sight. 

He was the photographer and used to being up close and personal with the most beautiful women in the world. She had fallen in love with him the minute they had met in the make-up room where she was adjusting the look of a model. The moment he entered the room she felt as though a fire had been lit inside her, warming her. It was still burning strongly, just the thought of him made her quiver with excitement.  Greta was the make-up artist and it took her a while to realize that Paul's gentle banter was aimed at her as he moved around the room. It was still a source of wonder that he had chosen her.

Paul was from a large extended French family held together by his mother Madeleine and they had gladly welcomed Greta into their warm, comforting clan. Greta and Paul joined them whenever they could for their family get-togethers in Rouens. Anne and Malcolm were always finding excuses to go and visit.  Polly had spent her gap year with them and was very proud of her perfect French accent.

Greta wound some tinsel neatly into a bag and picked up the little Father Christmas that Paul's step sister Amelie had given her one year when they had spent Christmas in France. 

A tear fell as she thought of  Timmy playing with it. His little paws quick as silver making the Father Christmas swing to and fro. He'd got tangled in the tinsel and she'd taken a photo of his astonished little face, as it draped over his ears like a halo.
There's no way of knowing what's going to happen from one Christmas to the next, Greta thought as she tucked the Father Christmas away. She couldn't have known, that long ago Christmas that it would have been the last time she would help her grandmother decorate her tree. She couldn't have known ten years ago that it would be the last time she received a Christmas card from her grandfather saying, 'to a special grand daughter.' She couldn't have known this was her last Christmas with Timmy. The man that had come to the door to tell her had looked so stricken that she had found herself asking him in and making them both a strong cup of tea.  They were both in tears when Paul came home. As always, he took the situation in hand. He told the man that it was a dangerous road and there should be warning signs, to try and console him.  They exchanged addresses and then together gently took care of Timmy.
He had been a tiny kitten, just a scrap when Joyce had brought him home from the Animal Rescue. Joyce believed in Cat therapy. A wild abandoned kitten had worked wonders on her son Ricky, bringing him out of his shell in a way that astounded the doctors.

'He's perfect for you Greta.  He even looks like you with his big brown eyes and shiny dark fur. Would you like to give him a home.?

Greta hadn't needed asking twice. Timmy entered their lives and hearts. He used to wake them up in the morning, carefully wrapping his paws around their necks.
He would always be waiting for them by the door and run round the house to express his joy. The vet said he'd never seen anything like him. Lately though he had shown the signs of his years. Greta paused her hand caressing the soft fur of a toy hedgehog that she'd bought in Cornwall, Paul had been taking photos for a documentary about a seal sanctuary and she had been doing a course and then working as a volunteer at the hospital, doing the patients' make-up.

Greta put the last bauble in its box and looked at the darkening sky.  She could see the reflection of the tree in the window. It looked vulnerable without its decorations. She felt a wave of sadness as she thought of all the Christmases past, all the precious treasured memories, each one a symbol of the strength of her family and their capacity to sustain each other as the years go by.

The last bottle of mulled wine held just enough for Joyce.  Greta prepared a tray with mince pies and some cheese straws  her sister's favourites. The doorbell rang and she went to greet her sister and settled her in front of the fire.

'Ooh doesn't it look bare without the decorations? and without little Timmy.' She put her hand over her mouth appalled by her insensitivity.

'Sorry Greta, I didn't mean to mention him. I know exactly how you feel.'

She put her arms round her sister and held her tight. She saw the glass of mulled wine on the tray.

'Is that for me Greta, thank you, where's yours?' She followed Greta's glance to the top of the tree and gasped,

'You've forgotten the angel, she's still on the top, what's she holding in her hand? It looks like a magic wand.'

Greta sat back and looked at her sister.

' You know Joyce I was taking off the decorations and thinking about all the past. All the joys and sorrows and how much you've always helped me. I know I get a bit too introspective sometimes, memories are a two edged sword, we're grateful to have them and they make up or lives it's just...' she trailed off then took a deep breath, 'It's just that.. well I'm so lucky to have such a wonderful sister.'

'Oh go on Greta you'll make me cry, you're a wonderful sister too. I'll never forget the day you were born. I couldn't believe it, my  own personal baby doll.'

Greta grinned and offered Joyce a cheese straw,

'It's been hard for me this Christmas losing Timmy like that. I know you understand Joyce. I hadn't been feeling well all Christmas, and I'd put it down to being so upset, but then I went to the doctor and he told me to do a pregnancy test. The angel is holding the results.'

Joyce's shocked expression almost made Greta laugh but just then she heard Paul's key in the lock.

' Hey Greta, cherie', he rushed to kiss her.' I came home early, you said you'd got something important to tell me.'

The sound of his voice still made Greta weak at the knees and she sat down again to face her sister, but Joyce had left, quietly letting herself out so as to not to intrude in the intimate magic moment that she knew herself so well.


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