Page 144 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt

‘The universe works in magnificent ways, does it not, Bo? Anyway, Beatriz stayed in Paris for five years. Naturally, I took her under my wing. She often visited my house here in Montparnasse. We even used to have a weekly lunch at La Closerie des Lilas, where I used to take her mother.’ He chuckled. ‘Oh, what a blessing! You know, I even took her to Landowski’s atelier. He proudly showed her photographs of our work on theCristoand told her stories about my youth.’

I was desperate to ask my next question. ‘Did... you ever tell her the truth of her parenthood?’

Brouilly looked down and shook his head. ‘What right would I ever have to tell her that Gustavo was not her real father? No, monsieur, no.’

I leant back into the sofa and looked up at the dusty ceiling. I was finding it difficult to keep my emotions in check. The sight of the dying Laurent and the story of his daughter had created an enormous lump in my throat. How anyone could doubt the power of the universe after such an event, I do not know. After a minute, I managed to regain composure. ‘Do you still speak with Beatriz now?’

‘We write to each other every month! I know all about her life, Bo. She has married a good man who treats her well and loves her dearly.’ Brouilly sighed. ‘Tragically, her first child died. But she had a second baby.’

‘What’s the name?’ I asked.

‘Cristina,’ Laurent said quietly. He suddenly seemed troubled. ‘From what Beatriz has told me, she is a very difficult child. Even though she is only seven years old, she treats her mother very poorly.’ Laurent turned to look out of the window, formulating his next sentence. ‘Cristina is ferociously intelligent, but appears to have no sensitivity or empathy when it comes to her fellow human beings. It makes her almost impossible to deal with.’

‘How awful for Beatriz,’ I replied. She’s already been through so much.’

‘Yes.’ Brouilly slowly turned to me. ‘Which brings me to why I asked you here today.’

‘Please, go on,’ I encouraged him.

Brouilly inhaled, and I noted the slight rattle in his chest as he did so. ‘I want to provide my daughter with all the assistance I can, but I am not long for this world, Bo. I will leave her what money I have, but it is not a great deal. I wonder, if...’ His voice cracked once more, and I placed my hand on his. ‘I wonder if you might look in on the family from time to time. There is no one else I can ask, without the risk of exposing the secret of Beatriz’s parenthood, which I most certainly do not wish to do.’

I nodded. ‘Of course, Laurent. Do you wish me to contact Beatriz?’

‘No. It will only cause more questions to be raised. Perhaps you could... observe from afar, and if the family is ever in dire need of help, it would be a tremendous comfort to know that someone could give it.’

‘I understand.’ My mind raced at the gravity of the task Laurent was endowing me with. His family lived in Brazil, and I resided in Switzerland. There would be numerous practicalities to overcome, not to mention the interference it might cause to my own search for Elle. I gazed at Laurent’s pleading eyes. His only crime was loving another too much. I was familiar with the phenomenon. I decided then that I would not let him down. ‘Please rest assured that I will do as you have asked.’

His face radiated warm gratitude. ‘Thank you, Bo. Thank you.’ He patted my hand. ‘Now, I am growing tired, but before I go, is there anythingyouwish to know?’

I took a moment to think. ‘Evelyn,’ I replied. ‘Do you ever hear from her?’

Laurent winced. ‘I’m sorry, Bo. Evelyn died soon after Monsieur Landowski.’

My heart ached. She had been so very kind to me, and in the ferociousness of my quest to locate Elle, I had failed to stay in touch. ‘When I spoke to her fifteen years ago, she mentioned that she hadn’t even met her granddaughter. Tell me, Monsieur Brouilly, was that ever resolved?’

Brouilly shook his head. ‘No. I saw Louis at the funeral. But there was no sign of Giselle or Marina.’

‘Marina,’ I recalled. ‘That was her name. She must be in her twenties now?’

‘Yes. It is a sad story. As you heard from Evelyn, Giselle was a force of nature. The rumours were that she was fuelled by drink. Things went sour in the relationship between her and Louis. One day, she simply took Marina and left her husband behind. He has told me since that he often tried to contact his daughter, but Giselle did a thorough job of brainwashing her against him.’

‘How terrible.’

‘Indeed. But then, according to stories I have heard, Giselle fought viciously with her own daughter, and kicked her out of the house. Since then, apparently...’ Brouilly hesitated.

‘Please, say, Laurent.’

‘I have recently heard tell from Marcel Landowski that Marina frequents the Rue Saint-Denis.’ I stared back blankly at him. Brouilly sighed. ‘Apparently she is selling her body to pay her way.’

I put my hand to my mouth. ‘Oh Laurent.’ I rubbed my temples. ‘I have to do something to help. For Evelyn.’

Brouilly nodded. ‘I would like to think that I would have acted, were I in a position to.’ Laurent inhaled deeply, and flinched when breathing out. He put a hand to his chest. ‘Do you think you could fetch Hélène?’

‘Of course, Laurent.’ I stood up, and he grabbed my hand.

‘You will keep your promise, won’t you? You swear?’

‘On the stars, Laurent.’