Secrets From the Past

  He nodded. ‘Tommy worshipped your mother. He only had eyes for her. It was that grand love affair. Always was. But he didn’t have a sex life with her, because of her osteoporosis. He was handsome, charming, virile. He was only thirty-nine, Serena. He was also the most daring and fearless war photographer in the world. Famous, a celebrity, much admired. Women threw themselves at him. And so—’

  ‘He slept with Val,’ I said softly, interrupting the flow of his story.

  ‘Yes, he did,’ Harry answered, his voice as low as mine had been.

  ‘You said the word briefly, before. Was it a one-night stand?’ I asked.

  ‘More like a two-week stand. And then it was over. He couldn’t continue it, he told me, because of his love for Elizabeth. He was riddled with guilt, contrite. He’d never strayed before, and it troubled him that he had been unfaithful with Val.’

  ‘But she was pregnant with me. Am I right?’

  ‘She was, yes.’

  There was a long silence.

  Finally I broke it when I said, ‘So Val Clifford was my mother.’

  ‘She gave birth to you, Serena. Elizabeth was your mother,’ Harry corrected me. ‘From the day you were born.’

  ‘So Val wasn’t actually a surrogate?’ I gave him a piercing look.

  ‘Not really, not in the sense you mean.’

  ‘Didn’t Val want me?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course she did, but she had a problem. Remember this was thirty years ago, and she was afraid of being a single mother. Single mothers weren’t that common in those days. And were even disapproved of. Basically, she thought she couldn’t cut it. Also, she didn’t know how she could have you and continue her work. War photography was her great passion. She realized she would find it hard to give that up. In general she was nervous, insecure, worried, doubted her ability to bring up a child properly.’

  ‘Did she want to abort me, Harry?’

  ‘Absolutely not! And your father didn’t either. They’d both seen too much death and destruction as war photographers. They wouldn’t take a life, so there was never any discussion about an abortion. The mere idea was abhorrent to them.’

  ‘So what happened ultimately?’ I sat back, anxious to know the rest.

  ‘He and I discussed it. And then Val became part of the discussion about the situation. Tommy said he had to tell Elizabeth the truth, and also explain that Val was pregnant with his child. He felt compelled to do this because of the importance of his relationship with Elizabeth. He wanted to remain married to her. There was no question of a divorce. He liked Val, but it was his wife he loved.’

  ‘And you encouraged that, and Dad told her. Am I correct?’ I asked, and for the first time I relaxed, reached out, touched Harry’s hand. ‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘I’m okay about this.’ And I really was.

  Harry looked relieved, and explained, ‘He and I flew to Nice, and he told Elizabeth everything, asked her to forgive him. Later, he said that your mother was wonderful. She completely understood the situation, how it had come about. Elizabeth was a worldly woman, and she realized that your father’s predicament was untenable, and all because of her illness.’

  ‘Yes, Mom would’ve been understanding. She was a very sophisticated woman, and so very intelligent. I bet Dad asked her if she wanted the baby?’

  Harry shook his head, a half-smile on his lips. ‘Trust you to get it all. You’re too much at times, Serena, too bright for your own good.’ He drank the last of his wine, and said, ‘And you’re correct. Tommy did ask Elizabeth if she wanted the baby, and apparently she was thrilled at the idea. If Val agreed to it, that apparently was her only stipulation.’

  ‘And Val did agree. And so all’s well that ends well.’

  Glancing at his watch, Harry said, ‘I think we have to go to the restaurant, Serena. Otherwise we might not have a table. It’s getting late.’

  ‘I’ve lots of questions, Harry, but I suppose we’d better leave.’

  ‘You’re right. And that’s the story … you know the rest, honey.’

  ‘Not all of it.’ I stood up, reached for my handbag. ‘Just one question now, Harry, before we go. Okay?’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘When Val contacted you recently, what favour did she want from you?’

  ‘She wanted me to be the executor of her will.’

  ‘Oh,’ was all I said, yet again totally surprised.

  ‘And I agreed.’ He took hold of my arm and led me to the door. ‘The rest over dinner at Harry’s Bar.’

  Like everyone else, Harry had his faults, but many more qualities, one of which was his graciousness. He was nice to people, whoever they were. This never varied, and it was natural, endeared him to everyone.

  The moment we walked into Harry’s Bar we were instantly greeted with great affection by Arrigo Cipriani, the owner, and then by some of the head waiters. I had booked the table in his name, so his favourite spot in a corner at the back of the room was waiting for us.

  Once we were seated at the table, Bellinis began to arrive along with his favourite small rounds of toast, breadsticks, butter and sparkling water.

  ‘You’re like the king here,’ I said, picking up my Bellini, holding it towards him.

  He touched his glass to mine. ‘Tommy always used to kid me about that, and once tried to persuade me that the restaurant had been named after me. But I knew that this wasn’t true, since it has been called Harry’s Bar since Hemingway’s day. Anyway, they’re all very nice, and this is one of my favourite places in the world.’

  ‘I know. You came here a lot with Dad and Mom, didn’t you?’

  He nodded. ‘Many a great evening was spent here, the three of us laughing our heads off and enjoying life. Or the four of us, if I had a girlfriend in tow.’ He took a sip of his drink, went on, ‘Can I explain why Val Clifford asked me to be executor of her will?’

  ‘Yes, I want to know.’ I leaned closer to him.

  ‘As you are already aware, she did marry Jacques Pelliter several years after you were born. He died some years ago, and she never remarried. And she never had any more children, because of her career as a war photographer. At least, I believe that’s what played a major part in her decision not to have other children. And so she made you her sole heir. I have a copy of her will.’

  ‘Oh my God!’ I exclaimed, and immediately fell silent, totally stunned by his announcement.

  ‘I can see you’re surprised, Serena, but it sort of makes sense really. She did carry you for nine months, did give birth to you, and she and your mother were first cousins – she was your Great Aunt Dora’s daughter, as you know. And Dora was your grandmother’s twin sister, so you’re truly family. Who else could be her heir?’

  ‘My sisters? As well as me?’ I suggested, a brow lifting.

  ‘She also thought of that possibility, and said she was leaving everything to you because, like her, you were a war photographer, as well as the child she had carried.’

  I looked at him, and made a slight grimace, but said nothing. I was still stunned about Val’s bequest.

  There was a small silence, and then, turning to me, he said, ‘She’s left you her studio, the possessions in it, and all rights to her photographic archive.’

  ‘Oh.’ I sat there, biting my lip, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by this information. ‘It’s generous of her,’ I finally replied, not knowing what else to say. Moving on, I gave Harry a small smile. ‘Listen, I want to ask you a few questions. Is that all right with you?’

  ‘Of course. What do you want to know?’

  ‘How was my birth certificate faked?’ When he didn’t respond immediately, I continued. ‘It must have been faked, Harry, because Elizabeth is named as my mother, when she didn’t actually give birth to me. Val did that. Cara told Jessica and me that birth certificates could be faked, as well as other documents.’

  ‘She would say that,’ he muttered, and then reached out, squeezed my hand. ‘Val gave birth to you at Jardin des Fleurs. Dr Felix
Legrange and the nurse, Annette Bertrand, were present at the time. The next day you were in Elizabeth’s arms, and Tommy and I took Val back to the Negresco Hotel, where she had a suite. She stayed a couple of days, resting, and then went to Paris, where she lived at that time. Doctor Lagrange filled out the required form, and that information he supplied went on your official birth certificate.’

  ‘Just as I suspected,’ I murmured. ‘I knew the doctor must have been in on it.’

  Harry looked taken aback at my comment, and said swiftly, ‘Nobody was “in” on anything, as you call it. Doctor Legrange knew how desperately your mother wanted another child, and he helped to facilitate it. The birth was uncomplicated, very easy. Val left. Your mother took over. Everyone was happy, and neither the doctor nor the nurse took any money at all.’

  ‘Because Mom was a famous movie star, and—’

  ‘That was not the reason!’ he cut in peremptorily, in a tone that was sharp for him. ‘They did what they did because your mother was a nice woman – sweet, caring, kind to everyone she knew. Also, Doctor Legrange was a smart man, and he was very well aware that Val was unequipped emotionally to be a full-time mother. He recognized that her career as a war photographer came first, and also truly understood that Elizabeth and Tommy would give you a much better life than she could. A happy and secure life. And they did.’

  I gazed at him, slightly chagrined and somewhat chastened, and murmured, ‘Sorry, Harry, I shouldn’t have said that. And you’re right, they were wonderful parents.’

  ‘And then some,’ he exclaimed. ‘Never forget that you were the much-longed-for baby, and cherished.’

  ‘Cara said exactly that. She told me it was easy for a woman to give birth, but what truly mattered was the care and love a woman gave to the baby after it was born, and forever.’

  ‘Elizabeth Vasson was your mother, and don’t you ever forget that, Serena.’

  ‘I promise I won’t,’ I said. ‘I couldn’t, even if I tried. Elizabeth made me who I am.’

  ‘As did Tommy,’ Harry pointed out, and squeezed my hand again. ‘You were one lucky girl.’

  After this discussion, we ordered dinner. I didn’t much feel like eating, so when Harry said he was starting with shrimp, then would have the specialty of the restaurant, liver veneziana, I said I would have the same.

  On the walk home I suddenly said to Harry, ‘If I hadn’t found those pictures of the very pregnant Val, I would have never known any of this.’

  Harry didn’t answer at first, and then after a few minutes he said, ‘When Val got in touch with me recently, she said I could tell you she’d made you her heir because you were family. And also because you were both in the same profession. Or I could tell you the truth about your actual birth. She said it was up to me. I should do what I thought was the best for you. She didn’t want you to be upset. She said that several times.’

  I was taken aback, and then I asked, ‘And what would you have done, Harry, if I hadn’t found the pictures?’

  Again he was silent, and then he unexpectedly stopped walking in the middle of the Piazza San Marco, and looked at me intently. ‘I’m still not sure, Serena.’ A deep sigh escaped him. ‘I might have told you the truth. On the other hand, Elizabeth and Tommy never did that, and so perhaps I would have honoured their decision, and kept their secret. I honestly thought that it really wasn’t my place, and Val seemed to be against it when we spoke about her will.’

  I put my arms around him and hugged him tightly. ‘It doesn’t matter, honestly. I love you very much, and I know you have my best interests at heart. I have always trusted you, and I still do. And I always will.’

  ‘Thanks for that, Serena. There is just one more thing I want to say. I don’t want you to think badly of Tommy, because he slept with Val. The pressure was always on him, he was stressed, and he did love Elizabeth so very much …’

  ‘How could I ever think badly of Dad? He was the most wonderful man, my magic man, a very special father, not only to me, but to Jessica and Cara as well. And he was a loving and caring husband …’ I paused, and added, ‘I was there you know. Also, I’m thirty years old, a grown-up, Harry. I realize how difficult and frustrating things must have been for him at times, because of Mom’s illness. And thank God she did get much better eventually, because of the new drugs for osteoporosis. And things normalized for them.’

  ‘Yes. They did. And they loved you, and this also helped to sustain them even more. You were a blessing, Serena.’

  FORTY-FIVE

  When I went into the living room the following morning, Harry was already working on his laptop, and drinking a mug of coffee.

  He glanced up, smiled when he saw me, and exclaimed, ‘You look as fresh as a daisy, and very pretty, Serena. How about coffee?’

  ‘That would be nice, and thanks for those compliments. I took your words to heart, about my all-black front-line uniform. I’ve ditched it permanently. White suits me better, don’t you think?’ I said, looking down at my white T-shirt and white jeans.

  ‘It sure does,’ he said and walked into the kitchen.

  I sat down at the table, and a moment later he returned with a mug of coffee for me.

  ‘Thanks. And thanks for last night,’ I said. ‘And for telling me all about Val and Dad and Mom, and my birth. I’m going to explain everything to Jessica and Cara, but I prefer to do it in person when I go to Nice.’

  ‘They should know, Serena,’ he replied. ‘I’m certain they’ll understand just the way you have. They’re both as level-headed as you are, and know that we’re all human beings, with human frailties.’

  ‘They won’t have any problems about it,’ I said, smiling at him. I took a sip of my coffee, and asked, ‘What would you like to do today?’

  An answer wasn’t forthcoming for a moment, and then he said, ‘You haven’t said a word about Val’s bequest to you, but I thought we ought to go there this morning – go and see it. What do you think?’ He looked at me expectantly, his blue eyes twinkling, and a faint smile crossed his face.

  Once more I was taken by surprise, and I gaped at him. Finally, I said, ‘Do you mean the studio is here? In Venice?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’ Rising, he went into his bedroom, came back a second later, carrying an envelope. He handed it to me and sat down, explaining, ‘Val sent this to me before she went to Tripoli, and told me to give it to you only if I had told you the truth. It’s a letter to you. And here’s the key to her studio. Which is on the Grand Canal, by the way, and not far from the Bauer Palazzo.’ He put the key on the table.

  I was dumbstruck for a moment, filled with amazement, and I just sat there clutching the envelope and continuing to stare at Harry.

  He said, ‘Aren’t you going to open it?’

  ‘Of course,’ I answered. I took out the letter, and began to read:

  Dear Serena:

  I am fully aware that by going to Libya I’m risking my life on the front line, as I always have. Being a war photographer has always been my one great passion, and it has dominated my life. So if you are reading this letter you will know that I didn’t make it, that I died doing what I loved the most.

  I also wanted you to know that I have always loved you, held you dear, in my heart. Giving you to Elizabeth and Tommy was an act of love on my part. It was my way of securing your life, making sure you had everything, and most especially their abiding love. I want you to truly understand that I loved Elizabeth and Tommy, and trusted them implicitly.

  I saw you several times when you were little, and I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. I was so proud of you, and even prouder when you became a war photographer yourself. I like to think you’ve inherited some talent from me as well as from Tommy.

  Take care of yourself always.

  Love,

  Val

  Tears came into my eyes as I was reading the letter. I was touched by it, and my hand trembled slightly as I gave it to Harry without saying a word.

  H
e took it and began to read.

  I wiped the tears from my eyes with my fingertips, went over to the window and looked out at the piazza.

  A moment later Harry was enfolding me in his arms, and holding me close. He didn’t say anything, because there was nothing to say. That this woman had loved me in her own way was undeniable, and I think Harry knew that too, had probably always known it.

  We sat in Florian’s having a coffee and croissants, and cooling off in the air conditioning. Harry and I had walked down to the piazza from the bolthole, and come in here for breakfast, before going to Val’s studio. The heat was intense outside this morning, and I’d even brought a cotton hat with me.

  Harry knew I was still feeling emotional, and he did not mention Val, or Mom and Dad. Instead he started to talk about my grandparents, Dave and Greta Stone.

  ‘They saved my life, you know,’ he announced at one moment.

  ‘No, I didn’t know that,’ I said, looking across the table at him. ‘No one ever told me.’

  ‘I was seven, sad and lonely, a lost little boy, really,’ he began. ‘My father was a serial womanizer of the worst kind – he boasted about it. My mother was an alcoholic because of his boasting. My father had a trust fund, so we weren’t poor. Except when it came to feelings and giving love and attention to their child. Me. My parents were awful.’

  Harry paused to sip his coffee, and looked at me. ‘Tommy and I met at school, and he sort of adopted me, took me under his wing. Once, after he’d come home with me, to our apartment on Eighty-Sixth Street, he had been horrified. It wasn’t messy or neglected. Just cold, seemingly deserted, and a little bit frightening to him, I guess.’

  ‘Harry, what a terrible thing for you! Growing up like that,’ I sympathized. ‘And I bet Dad was appalled, because he was so empathetic.’

  Harry went on, ‘So much so, he started inviting me to his parents’ apartment for dinner. We’d do our homework, and then we’d have lovely food, cooked by your marvellous, generous grandmother. It was heaven for me. At weekends Tommy always included me in their little jaunts, to the movies, sometimes to the theatre, even out to dinner. In the end, I became part of the family, spent all my time with them.’