You accuse me of deserting Hélène. I would never have done that had she not cut me out of her life. She did not reply to my letters, or if she did, I didn’t receive them… or the one you mention from Pierre, for that matter. That I find strange… where did they go? To someone else? You say I caused her misery, but you must know that would be the furthest thing from my mind. I fell in love with her the moment I saw her and I love her still. That will never change.

As she is now married, any further contact will be impossible… for both of us.

Yours sincerely

Rupert Chalfont

‘Do you believe him?’ Annette said, looking up. ‘About not receiving the letters?’

‘It’s possible,’ said Pierre, ‘but it doesn’t explain why he didn’t write to her either… at least until he told her he was married.’

‘I shan’t write to him again,’ Annette said, offering the letter back to Pierre. When he shook his head, she put it into her pocket.

‘I don’t think he’s expecting you to,’ Pierre was saying. ‘But he did say one thing we didn’t expect.’

‘What was that?’

‘He said,’ answered Pierre, ‘that his wife is dead. He doesn’t say how, but don’t you see? That means he could marry again… and Hélène is free.’

‘Maybe.’ Annette looked doubtful. ‘But I think it’s probably too late, don’t you?’

‘I don’t know,’ answered Pierre. ‘I don’t understand what women think about these things. Might Hélène forgive him, do you think? Does she still love him despite everything?’

Annette shook her head. ‘I don’t know either, but she swore the other day that she would never, never marry.’

‘Because she couldn’t marry Rupert, or because the whole idea of marriage is repugnant to her?’

Annette shrugged. ‘Either or both. But we don’t know that Rupert would want to marry her now anyway.’

‘Don’t we?’ Pierre looked at her quizzically. ‘I think we do. I know you will find it hard to forgive him for what you believe he has done, but set that against Hélène’s happiness. If he suddenly came back to France looking for her and free to marry her, how do you think she would react? Would she fall into his arms or would she show him the door… or somewhere in between?’

‘I don’t know,’ admitted Annette.

‘Nor do I, though I guess probably something in between, but don’t you think there’s been enough interference in their lives? Don’t you think we should give him a chance to make his peace with her if he wants to? I know you’ll find it hard to forgive him, but we can be pretty sure it isn’t entirely his fault. We can’t play God, you know.’

‘There isn’t a God,’ stated Annette flatly.

‘Maybe, maybe not, but either way it isn’t up to us to make other people’s decisions for them. If I were Rupert I’d never forgive anyone who knew that the woman he says he still loves was free to marry him and didn’t tell him so.’ He looked at Annette, his eyes holding hers. ‘If it were you and me, wouldn’t you want to know? If you thought I was married and lost to you, wouldn’t you want to discover that I was free after all?’