Five Quarters of the Orange / Пять четвертинок апельсина

“But now since poor Papa has passed away, we have to ask ourselves whether the informal arrangement you two made between you is entirely fair to the remaining members of the family.”

His tone was casual, but I could see the gleam in his eyes, and I shouted out, suddenly furious.

“What ”informal arrangement‘? I told you, I paid good money – I signed papers…“

Laure put her hand on my arm.

“Yannick didn’t mean to upset you, Mamie.”

“No one’s upset me,” I said stonily.

Yannick ignored that and continued:

“It’s just that some people might think that an agreement such as you made with poor Papa – a sick man desperate for cash – ”

I could see Laure was watching Pistache, and cursed under my breath.

“Besides the unclaimed third that should have belonged to Tante Reine – ”

The fortune under the cellar floor. Ten cases of Bordeaux laid down the year she was born, tiled over and cemented into place against the Germans and what came later, worth a thousand francs or more per bottle today, I daresay, all awaiting collection.

Damn. Cassis could never keep his mouth shut when it was needed. I interrupted harshly.

“That’s being kept for her. I haven’t touched any of it.”

“Of course not, Mamie. All the same…” Yannick grinned unhappily, looking so like my brother that it almost hurt. I glanced briefly again at Pistache, sitting bolt upright in her chair, face expressionless. “All the same, you have to admit that Tante Reine is hardly in any position to claim it now, and don’t you think it would be fairer to all concerned – ”

“All that belongs to Reine,” I said flatly.

“I won’t touch it. And I wouldn’t give it to you if I could. Does that answer your question?”

Laure turned to me then. In her black dress, with the yellow lamplight on her face, I thought she looked quite ill.

“I’m sorry,” she said, with a meaningful glance at Yannick. “This was never meant to be about money. Obviously we wouldn’t expect you to give up your home-or any part of Tante Reine’s inheritance.

If either of us gave the impression…”

I shook my head, bewildered.

“Then what on earth was all that-”

Laure interrupted, her eyes gleaming.

“There was a book…”

“A book?” I repeated.

Yannick nodded.

“Papa told us all about it,” he said. “You showed it to him.”

“A recipe book,” said Laure with strange calmness. “You must have all the recipes by heart already.