Calabasas Confidential Ch. 01
Keywords: Confidential, Ch., 01, Calabasas,
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I had left my aunt's estate at about 10:00 AM, having seen neither hide nor hair of my aunt or Angelique. I had a quick breakfast then showered, dressed, and called for a cab. I arrived at her house just around 11:00 AM, anxious to meet with this beautiful and enigmatic woman.
As the cab pulled up to the house, I noticed that the front yard was festooned with a variety of flowers, which ran along the periphery of the lawn bordering the street. To the right stood a splendid-looking rock garden and several small pieces of statuary, including a winged Cupid that stood in the center of the garden. The entire yard had a meticulous look to it, and the heady fragrance of the flowers put me in a wonderful mood.
I arranged with the driver to pick me up in a few hours and made my way up the stone walk. I had chosen to wear only a blouse and a pair of cutoffs as the weather was terribly hot and humid, but regretted this choice when Charlotte answered the door in a formal, dark blue, business suit, looking every bit like a CEO preparing to address a meeting of stockholders.
"Bon jour, Holly!" she said kissing me on both cheeks. "Entre donc! Entre donc!"
She led me into a room immediately off the hallway to the right, which was more or less a sitting room that possessed a very lived-in quality to it. The décor was simple but elegant: a green, upholstered, antique couch; two similarly styled sofas, but in burgundy; two end tables and a coffee table all with pink, marble tops designed in Italianate fashion, and, in one corner next to the room's large bay window, a magnificent grand piano with a pile of sheet music resting on the stool next to it. There was a four-tiered, lawyer's bookcase that sat against the wall directly behind the piano, which was full of law books and other various legal tomes. Some books on music had somehow found their way onto the top shelf. Despite the heat outside, the room was perfectly cool and pleasant.
"The trees," she explained. "They cover the whole house. That's why it's always so nice here in the summer."
Motioning for me to sit down, she excused herself and went into the kitchen. Moments later she came back with a tray of croissants and other assorted pastries and two large glasses of ice tea.
"Thank you," I said, as she handed me the glass of tea. "You have a lovely home."
"Merci. I think it is. It belonged to my parents and it was left to me after they died. Some people think because I'm an Anjou that I have a lot of money, but it's not true. Everything in this house, except for the furniture in this room, I earned myself from practicing law."
"I noticed the law books in your bookcase," I said.
"And the music books! That's my true love—the piano!" She laughed gaily as she glanced at the instrument across the room. "I have the analytical mind of a lawyer and the sensitivity of a musician, so my father used to tell me. Do you play?"
"I play guitar a little. But I'm not all that good," I admitted.
"I'm not that good either," she confessed, "that's why I took up law."
Her manner was so easy and relaxed that I immediately felt at home in her presence.
"So, how is everyone back at the chateau?" she asked.
"I wish I could say they were fine, but they're not."
"Oh?" she replied, searching my face. "Why is that?"
"Well, I don't have to tell you that Angelique hates my guts. Last night she finally admitted it."
"You confronted her?"
"I had to. She hadn't spoken to my aunt or me in several days. I wanted to know why."
"And what did she tell you?"
"She told me that she regards me as her enemy, and that I should go to Hell."
Charlotte's face grew dark. "She said that to you?"
"Yes."
"Because you defeated her in the test?"
I nodded. "Because I didn't help her to win."
My gracious host's smile quickly turned into a frown. "Help her to win? Espèce d'imbécile! This girl is beyond arrogant!"
"She's not the same person," I said, my eyes downcast. "She hates everybody now. She hates Lenore for naming me her successor. She hates her mother for supporting Lenore. And she hates me...most of all."
"She hates you because you are the true leader, not her. Lenore is a very wise woman. She chose you because she believes in her heart that you are the right person to lead the Sisterhood after she resigns. I had dinner with her a few days ago and she told me as much. From what I know of you, I have to agree with her assessment."
"I never wanted this honor. I don't really have any desire to be a leader."
"That's why it must be you," she said, putting her hand on my shoulder. "As sad as this may sound, with the exception of your aunt Phoebe and a handful of others, Lenore really can't trust anyone within the Sisterhood. There's too much divisiveness; too many cliques jockeying for power; and one very angry and disillusioned girl who sees her chances for achieving power diminishing day by day because of you."
"But why did she suddenly become psychotic? I don't understand how her personality could have changed so much in such a short time."
Charlotte removed her hand from my shoulder and sighed gently. "The seeds of dissolution were planted in her at a very early age, and your uncle had a lot to do with it. I know because I was there during those days and I saw it myself. Her contempt for men, her insolence toward authority figures, and the hatred she shows toward the whole world is a direct result of the way your uncle treated your aunt Phoebe. She saw your aunt suffer. She witnessed the arguments, the threats... and, of course, the beatings..."
She saw the look of sudden bewilderment on my face and shook her head.
"Oh, yes, Holly, trust me. I know for a fact that he hit his wife...and Angelique too. Pierre always had an affinity for the wine, and he often took out his frustrations on them both. Phoebe taught her daughter to keep all the resentment she had for her father locked up inside her—just as Phoebe did, but Phoebe had coping mechanisms that Angelique did not possess. And your aunt wanted to preserve the illusion of family cohesion at all costs. So Angelique, you might say, became a walking time bomb. And failing this test is the thing that finally set her off. That's because Angelique sees the Sisterhood as a vehicle to get back at those who have hurt her. You are, in effect, responsible for standing in the way of her vengeance. When viewed from this perspective, her psychosis becomes much more understandable...and disturbing."
It took a while for me to absorb the full impact of her words. On the surface, my cousin had always projected a proud and confident demeanor to the world. It was certainly true that she was also arrogant and contemptuous of men, but I had no idea how deep the resentment flowed. My uncle's character, which I had always viewed as beyond reproach until his dalliance was discovered, took on a new and frightening dimension when viewed in the light of Charlotte's exposé. It went a long way toward explaining my cousin's aberrant mind-set.
"I would have never believed my uncle to be so cruel. No wonder Angelique's so screwed up."
"Pierre wasn't much of a man then, but he is even less now," she said, disparagingly.
"What do you mean?"
"He's sinking. Years of guilt and self-loathing have finally caught up with him. He's a shadow of his former self now. His businesses are losing money hand over fist because he can no longer cope with reality."
"How do you know this?"
"Because I'm his lawyer."
"You?"
"Not that I feel any particular obligation to him, but we are related by blood after all. We both carry the Anjou name."
She said this with a sense of pride, as if the name itself were worth preserving even when the person himself was no longer worthy of it.
"But you're a member of the Sisterhood."
"He knows that."
"But doesn't that present a conflict of interest?"
"The truth is, he poses no real threat to us. But more importantly, all his one-time associates are tending to desert him now that his financial problems are slowly becoming public. I'm the only one he can trust, so he's turned to me."
"How badly is he in debt?" I asked.
"If we can't find a way to keep his creditors off his back, he'll lose everything."
Now I understood why my uncle seemed indifferent when my aunt threatened him with a lawsuit. If he became ruined financially, it would not make much difference if she went to the police or not. It would just be so much more wood upon the fire. In his tortured mind he might regard such an action as divine retribution for his past offences against his family—a fait accompli of such sublimity that only the gods could have orchestrated it.
But did he really think he would find inner peace in trying to seek absolution from his daughter? Did he truly believe that he could redeem himself in her eyes for years of abuse? With his world potentially on the verge of crumbling down around him, why reach out to someone who wouldn't think twice about removing the last stone from his teetering financial foundation?
"My uncle paid a visit to my aunt last night," I said.
"I know. I spoke to him this morning," she replied. "I told him not to go but he insisted upon seeing Angelique."
"Why? What does he want from her?"
"He's seeking forgiveness," she replied. "It's a noble but feeble gesture. I would say the chances of her forgiving him are almost nonexistent."
"He told my aunt that he's trying to save her from the Sisterhood."
"Oh, he doesn't think much of our organization, that's for sure. But he won't admit the truth to Phoebe. He's too proud to humble himself like that before her."
I folded my hands and placed them in my lap. "This whole situation is so messed up. I wish I had never come here."
Charlotte placed her hands over mine and leaned in toward me. Her tone of her voice was soft but emphatic.
"You have a decision to make. You can stay and continue your training or you can go home to America.
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Keywords: Confidential, Ch., 01, Calabasas,