Chapters

Matthew felt at home in France in a way he never truly had before. Perhaps it was the warmth, the acceptance he had found from everyone. Once the introductions had been made, he had been ushered to his room by Francis, who had insisted on giving him a full tour of the house.

He had been fascinated by it all, listening to his father as he listed each room and the history of it. Hearing the exuberance and nostalgia in Francis' voice giving life to the house brought a faint smile to Matthew's face. However their relationship developed, the house itself was beautiful, and if nothing else he would not regret coming here.

Francis seemed to notice his son's distraction, and stopped talking.

"Matthieu? I am sorry, would you like me to stop? You must be tired, non?"

Matthew shook his head. "Oh, no, sorry. I mean, yes, I am a bit tired, but please don't stop." He looked around at the small corridor they were standing in. "It's very beautiful. I, uh, I like it. Very much."

Francis beamed. "That is wonderful to hear, mon petit. But you are tired. We will stop for now. You go and rest, and I will come for you when it is time for dinner, oui"?

"Ok. Thank you." Matthew considered calling him 'dad', but decided against it.

Francis led him back to his room, leaving him to unpack, saying that he would be outside if he wanted him.

Matthew unpacked quickly, placing his clothes in the ornate wooden wardrobe and chest of drawers. The room itself was quite simple, with a bed, wardrobe, chest of drawers and small bedside table. The dresser had a large basin and pitcher set in a large bowl, presumably for washing his face. And shaving, but, he mused, he wasn't quite old enough for that to be needed yet. Still, it was a nice gesture, and just another quirk that added to the feeling of being included, wanted.

Finished with unpacking, he paced over to the small window and opened it. pushing the shutters to the side, he leant out, breathing in the warm summer air. His gaze drifted to the garden, and he blinked in surprise.

A girl stood on the grass, barefoot. She had long black hair tied back in loose bunches with red ribbons, and wore a pretty blue skater dress that flowed out around her knees. She caught his gaze and waved up at him.

"Hello! You must be the new cousin, oui? I'm Michelle!" she called up to him.

Matthew flushed and retreated slightly. Michelle laughed. "Are you shy?" she giggled. "Wait a minute then."

She ran towards the house. After a minute, Matthew heard her footsteps coming towards him. She stopped outside his room, breathless, then straightened up. She stuck her hand out.

"Michelle. Francis told me you don't speak French, so I should speak English. Don't worry, I'll translate for Grandmamma and Grandpapa, they refuse to speak it. Well, they might take an exception with you, but its quicker if I translate. Hi."

Matthew shook her hand, a little shocked at the flurry of words. Michelle didn't seem to mind, however, and continued gabbling.

"So I guess Francis didn't tell you about me, huh? Doesn't matter, he knew I'd be here anyway. He asked me to keep an eye on you cause I'm your age – you're seventeen, right, same as me?- so he thought should show you around and stuff. He's already given you a tour of the house, so do you want to go and see the gardens? It's beautiful right around now."

Matthew's eyes lit up. "Um, yes please. And I'm Matthew."

Michelle blushed gracefully. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm gabbling again, aren't I? Grandmamma is always telling me to stop. Just tell me if I need to slow down, alright?"

"No, it's ok. I'm used to it." Matthew stopped himself from saying anything further, but Michelle tilted her head questioningly. He relented.

"My broth-er, cousin, Alfred. He's a bit like you. I don't mean that badly! Uh, he just, talks quickly. But he's very loud. And arrogant. So not very much like you." He stammered, blushing faintly. Michelle giggled again.

"It must be nice, huh?"

Matthew raised an eyebrow questioningly. "What?" he asked.

"Having a brother, silly. You can say that, no-one will mind. There's so many cousins and relatives here anyway that no-one really cares who's related to who. Pretty much everyone knows about you anyway, so they won't judge you" Michelle answered.

"Oh." Matthew wasn't sure how to react to that. On one hand, he was sort of glad that he wouldn't have to explain his situation over and over, but part of him still wanted to keep it secret. In the end, he supposed that Michelle was right. They were all family, so it didn't really matter. He did wonder one thing, though.

"So, uh, how are we…?" he trailed off. Michelle caught his drift though.

"OH! Sorry, I'm being rude again. We aren't actually related. Grandmamma adopted me when I was little. I'm from the Seychelles originally. My parents emigrated here before I was born. They died when I was three, and since mama and grandmamma were close friends, she took me in. So I'm sort of your cousin, but not really" she stated.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry" Matthew answered guiltily.

"N-mm. It's fine" she replied. "I don't really remember them. Besides, grandmamma and everyone are so lovely, and there's everyone else, so it's great here. And now you're here too!" she grinned at him, and Matthew smiled back. She grabbed his hand.

"Now let's go see the garden!" And with that, she dragged him out the room.

The two spent the next few hours going through the grounds of the house. Michelle pointed out the various flowers and trees, each with the corresponding Latin name. when Matthew remarked on it, she grinned and said that she had always loved flowers, and intended to study horticulture when she finished high school. she showed him the orchards, as well as the vineyards, where rows and rows of plants were laid out neatly.

"We do make our own wine, but Grandmamma doesn't let us drink it. It's too strong, she says. We sell it in the local market, tourists love it" she stated offhandedly,

and then took him to the crowning jewel.

A small lake, barely half a mile from the house. Not large, less than a few hundred yards across and perhaps half that wide, but enough. Matthew couldn't help a gasp of appreciation. In the centre, there was even a tiny island, barely large enough for a small tree and some bushes, but still recognisably an island.

"Cool, huh?" Michelle said.

Matthew could only nod in amazement. Just what kind of family is this? he thought. Knowing next to nothing about Francis, he was amazed at everything he had seen so far. If the house itself wasn't enough, the garden and now this showed him that this was very different from everything he was used to. He blinked back a tear, turning away so Michelle couldn't see him.

"Matthew?" Michelle rubbed a comforting hand on his back. Turning to face the lake, she spoke softly.

"It's a lot to take in, isn't it? I don't remember much of my parents, or where we lived before, but I remember that this was not it. When I came here for the first time, I thought it must be a castle, and I was a princess. Now, I realise that this really isn't so different from any other house, but when you are not brought up in it, it seems very different. Its all a bit much, yes?"

Matthew turned to face her, his face caught between a smile and crying. He laughed shakily.

"Yeah, that's it all right." He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

Michelle smiled. "We really aren't rich, if that's what you think. This is all old money. Grandpapa got the house on sale from the previous owner, and it took years to restore it. He and Grandmamma bought it when they were very young, our age I think, so it isn't a family home. The grounds came with it only because the man who owned it didn't want to look after it any more, so he sold it to Grandpapa. Then when they had children it became a sort of family project, and it took years to make it like it is now. The island I think was always like that. We can swim to it if you want!" she beamed, making Matthew laugh.

"Eh, no, it's ok. Maybe later." He looked at her. "But thank you. That does make me feel better" he said.

Michelle shot him a sly glance. "What, were you thinking we were all aged aristocrats lying on pots of gold and hoarding our money from centuries ago, and you were the commoner thrust into being the heir of an unknown fortune?"

Matthew blushed. "Well, no, I- eh, what? Heir?" His face took on a slightly horrified look.

Michelle raised an eyebrow. "Of course! Francis is Grandmamma and Grandpapa's only son, and you are his, so you are the heir after him. All the cousins are their nephews and nieces, and then great-nephews and nieces, so they aren't the first in line. You are. You and me. But I'm not their child, so it doesn't count."

Matthew took a step back in shock. It was one thing to find out that he had an entire family that he didn't know about, but to inherit it all! That would take a lot of getting used to. Suddenly a lot of things slotted into place. That was why Francis had contacted him now, out of the blue. Giving him time to meet his family, his grandmother, before she passed away. If not, he would have had a far bigger shock getting a letter, or even worse, a phone call, from some French lawyer saying that by the way, here is your father, who you haven't met and didn't know about, who has now inherited a family chateau and can you fly over, the funeral is on Tuesday and the will is to be read shortly after?

"Matthew? Are you all right? I'm sorry, should I not have told you? I thought Francis had said, I'm so sorry." Michelle twisted her hands in worry, her bare feet curling into the sand.

He shook his head. "No, it's ok. That's just a bit of a shock. But if Fra- eh, dad, is their son, then I'm not the heir. Not for a long time, at least" he mused.

Michelle blinked. "I suppose." She looked confused. "Do you not want it?" she asked worriedly.

"It's just a lot to take in, that's all" Matthew replied.

"Ok. Do you want to go back? It's getting late, it's probably nearly dinner time anyway" she said. Matthew nodded. "Yeah, dad said he would come and find me."

Michelle giggled. "We better go then! Francis gets het up way to easily. Lets go!" she declared.

They made their way back to the house. Luckily, Francis came out onto the terrace just as they emerged from the trees.

"Oh, Mattieu! You had me worried! I went up to your room and you were gone! Where were you?" he asked worriedly.

"It's ok, uncle Francis. He was with me the whole time. I took him around the garden and the lake" Michelle answered.

"Oh." Francis blinked in surprise. He and Michelle had a rather strained relationship. As much as he liked the girl, treating her as his daughter (sister would be too strange, with the more than twenty year age difference) only reminded him of the son he had abandoned. Instead, he tended to either avoid her, or, when he did remember her, showered her with gifts, much to his mother's consternation.

"Well, in any case, dinner will be served soon. Michelle, to the house, please" he said.

Michelle hurried forward, leaving Matthew and Francis standing together. There was a moment of awkward silence until Francis asked quietly "so what did you think of the gardens, Matthieu?"

The blond looked up at his father and smiled. "I, uh, it's really great. And huge. But its cool. Michelle was saying she wants to study horticulture and take care of it all." His face fell slightly, and he coughed in nervousness.

"She, uh, she also said something else. About, um, us. As a family, I mean."

Francis looked down at Matthew in trepidation. "Oh?"

Matthew swallowed. "She said this will all go to you. When, uh, well, after, uh…." His voice trailed off. Francis sighed.

"Oui. I am the sole inheritor of the estate when maman and pére are gone, that is true. And as my son, you will be my heir. Whether you choose to accept it is up to you, of course" he said, with a light laugh of nerves.

Matthew looked away and frowned. "What about Michelle?" he whispered. Francis' face twisted. "I have…made provisions for her, you would say. Of course, if you want, I can change that."

"No! eh, no, it's alright. I just thought, since she was here first, and everything."

In truth, Matthew felt highly conflicted about the whole topic. On the one hand, who wouldn't want to find out that they have rich relatives likely to bequeath a fortune to them? But this was Matthew. His gentle, kind personality and way of deflecting fights would not allow him to simply accept such a thing. If he had been brought up amongst the family, knowing who he was, he would no doubt have had no problem with this, expect it even, but he hadn't. The thought of inheriting everything made him feel, rather than safe and secure, suddenly lost and adrift.

The reality of his situation came quite suddenly crashing down, and he felt himself blinking back tears. Francis rushed to his side, scared.

"Matthieu? Matthieu? Mon dieu, what is wrong? I am sorry, this is too much for you all at once. I will talk to Michelle about this, you can be sure."

Matthew shook his head. "No, please, its fine. It's just a lot to take in, that's all. Please, can we just go inside?"

Francis nodded. "Of course, mon Cherie. Come, this way." He put his arm around Matthew's shoulder and led him towards the house.

Once dinner was over, the adults retired to their room or the lounge. Matthew briefly debated going to the games room which Michelle had shown him during the tour, but decided against it. From what he had seen, it had the usual snooker table and darts board, as well as a few newer additions of some games consoles and a flat-screen tv, which Michelle had told him his grandfather usually kept on the sports channel. He decided to leave it to another day. It would all be in French, anyway, so he wouldn't be able to understand any of it, and it would take far too long to change the language on any of the games.

Instead, he stood looking out of the window, admiring the night sky. It was full of stars, so much more than he would see at home. If nothing else, that would have been worth it alone for the trip, he mused.

His phone chimed with a text. It was from Carlos, the teen Matthew had met on the plane.

Hey, this is Carlos. Wanna meet up sometime tomorrow? I got the whole day free, so any time is fine by me.

Matthew read it and smiled. Yes, that would be nice. I'll have to ask my father, but would sometime after 11 o'clock be alright? he replied, and sat back to wait for the reply. It came a moment later.

C: Sounds cool to me. So what do you think of France so far?

M: It's nice. The garden here is huge, and my family seem very nice. I have an adopted cousin my age called Michelle, who showed me around. And the sky is amazing. I've never seen so many stars!

C: Yeah, it's pretty sweet. I've got some cool shots if you wanna see.

M: I would love to see some of your work. That would be great. Thank you.

C: No problem, dude. See ya tomorrow, yeah?

M: Yeah.

The two texted for a while, discussing the merits of various cameras and photography options (mainly on Carlos' side, Matthew's knowledge of photography was rudimentary at best). Carlos offered to show him around Paris, which Matthew accepted readily. Once they exchanged goodnight texts, he turned his phone off and resumed staring up at the stars.

His thoughts were broken by a soft knocking on his door. He turned to see Francis standing in the doorway, holding a candle. Does this house not have lights? Matthew couldn't help the thought.

Francis must have caught his look, as he laughed softly. Setting the candle down on the dresser, he walked over to stand next to Matthew.

"A candle is more beautiful on a night like this, oui?"

Matthew looked up at the stars again, then nodded. "I suppose." His voice was distant. Francis frowned, worried.

"What is wrong, mon ami?"

Matthew shook his head to clear his thoughts, then turned to face his father.

"Nothing, I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Everything. It's true what they say, I guess. The stars really are the same wherever you are. But I've never seen them like this before." His gaze drifted back upwards, fascinated with the display.

Francis grinned. "Would you like to see more?"

Matthew blinked. "Don't tell me we have…" Francis nodded. "Oui. Follow me." Matthew's eyes gleamed, and he eagerly followed his father out of the room.

Francis led him through the house until they reached the end of the corridor on the third floor. He opened a small door at the end, revealing a set of stairs.

"At the top" he said. He went up, leaving Matthew to follow him. Once up, a small patio was revealed, with a table and chairs set to one side. That was not what Francis was showing him, however. He led Matthew over to the edge.

A tall telescope stood against the wall, its lens pointing up towards the sky. Matthew couldn't help a small gasp of amazement seeing it. Francis smiled and motioned to it.

"Go ahead. It is fully focussed."

Matthew walked over as if in a trance. Francis showed him how to turn the lens and focuser, the stepped back. He felt a strange flood of emotion watching the pure wonder in his son's face. How many times had he missed this while Matthew was growing up? What else had made him show such childish joy that he hadn't been there to see? He shook his head, determined to ignore such thoughts. It did no good to dwell on the past. Whatever mistakes he had made, he was determined to make the best of it now. He could only hope that Matthew would allow him to.

The boy in question turned around. His eyes were still wide with wonder, the moonlights glinting off his glasses. His mouth was slightly open with amazement. He grinned at the man.

"This is amazing! Thanks for showing me, dad."

He clapped a hand to his mouth, stunned that the word had slipped out. He stared down at his feet, scared to look up at Francis.

After a long moment of silence, he heard Francis swallow hard. "Y-you are very welcome, Mattieu" he said quietly.

Matthew gained the courage to look up. Francis' eyes were full of tears. Seeing his son, he gave a watery smile. He shook his head slightly.

"Well, it is getting very late. You should get to bed, non? Maman would have my skin if she knew how late you are up. We will talk more tomorrow, if you want. We could go into the city, perhaps."

Matthew nodded. "I'd like that. I, uh, arranged to meet someone, though."

"Oh?" Francis sounded surprised.

"Uh, it's just a guy I met on the plane. He said he's doing some photography and he's here to get some photos of the architecture. I said I would ask you before I decided anything, but if its ok I would like to meet him."

Francis smiled. "Oui, of course. Did you say a time?"

"uh, I said after 11. Is that ok?"

Francis nodded. "Oui. I shall do some shopping and you can see Paris. Ah, to be able to see it for the first time!" he looked at Matthew.

"I really am so very glad you ae here, Mattieu. Truly" he said.

Matthew gave his father a tentative smile. "Me too. Thank you."

Francis nodded. "Now, to bed please."

Matthew's mouth quirked in a smile. He followed Francis back to his room. Bidding him good night, Francis took the candle, now almost burnt out, and left for his own room.

Matthew stood in the small room for a while, before turning and walking over the wardrobe. He undressed and changed into his pajamas, then slipped beneath the covers. His mind ran over the events of the day, and he stayed awake for some time, thinking over everything. Eventually, his eyes grew heavy with tiredness. Turning over, he snuggled in to the thick blanket and drifted off to sleep.