Clarisse arrived at the beach house after a three-hour drive from the palace. A small staff accompanied her: the chauffeur, a cook, a housekeeper, and Olivia. There were separate servants' quarters, so Clarisse would have the house to herself.
As she stepped inside for the first time in nearly 25 years, a flood of memories hit her – happier times when the children were small and they had spent their summer vacations here. She stepped over folded sheets that had been removed from the furniture, and began exploring the house.
It had withstood the elements over the years, thanks to a diligent caretaker. All it really needed was some updating of fabric, curtains, bedding, and a fresh coat of paint. Clarisse relaxed, it wouldn't take much at all to make this a hideaway for the soon-to-be-married couple. She opened the French doors to the patio, with its view that had always taken her breath away, and today was no exception. The water lapped up against the dock where two small boats were tied up. The sound of the birds and the smell of the sea air instantly made Clarisse smile and forget all that worried her. She leaned on the railing, the sun on her face warming her entire body. It had been the right decision to come here.
-
After an early supper meal, Clarisse dismissed the staff to let them go explore the seaside town for the evening. Dressed casually, in pants and a light jacket, with a glass of wine in hand, she again went to sit on the patio and watch the sun go down across the bay. Finishing her glass, she decided to take a short walk on the beach. How long since she had felt sand between her toes, she wondered?
It was good, she decided, this whole holiday idea. She didn't even mind being here by herself. She was as relaxed and content as she had been for as long as she could remember. No longer needing to worry about Mia, the girl had proved herself more than capable, and Pierre finally deciding to settle down with Charlotte, there was enough closure to allow Clarisse time for herself.
That's when she realized all was not as well as she had been trying to convince herself. Time for herself meant time alone. Time to read, walk on the beach, time to plant flowers, time to, do what, exactly? To be alone and dwell on the fact that she was alone? She sat on a piece of driftwood and looked out over the bay. "Joseph, where are you now when I need you?"
Eventually, the former Queen of Genovia walked back to the house, the salt water of the ocean mingling with the salt water of her tears. She walked oblivious to the man less than 100 meters from her, who had been standing on the bluff behind her, watching her.