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The Butler(20)

Author:Danielle Steel

“So, what are you going to do now?” she asked him. “Go back to London?”

“Not yet. Don’t be so eager to get rid of me.” He smiled at her. “I’m in no hurry to go back. I’ve listed my details and qualifications with the best domestic agency there, and they say that there is very little demand for formal butlers now, very few houses that require one, or families that can afford them. I want to spend some time with you here.” There was a kind look in his eyes, and she sat up a little straighter, with a slightly acerbic glance at her son.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Joachim. I have a full life, and you must too. It’s not good to remain idle for long.”

“I could be your butler for a while.” He laughed at the thought. “You need one. I enjoy spending time with you, Mama.” His mother was reaching an age when he wanted to spend precious time with her. She had no health problems, but that could change in an instant, as he had seen with his long-term employers. He didn’t want to miss an opportunity to be with her and regret it later. She was the only relative he had, other than his long-absent brother, and he was now her only child.

“I’m grateful that you want to be here. But you’ll get bored hanging around while I’m at work, and I’m working on a big project right now.” He knew that she sometimes stayed at the office even later than her co-workers and brought work home on weekends.

“I’ve been thinking that a temporary job in Paris might be fun, just for a few months. I’ve never worked in France, only in England.” He had legal residence in England and the necessary work papers, and his French passport allowed him to work anywhere in the European Union, so he had many options.

“They don’t have big houses that are fully staffed in France anymore, not like they do in England,” she said. They were rapidly disappearing in England too, but he knew that she was right, and grand homes and large formal staffs had been gone in France for a long time, and with socialist governments and punitive taxes for the rich, no one liked to show wealth in France. A butler was a flashing red light to the tax authorities and shone a spotlight on a way of life that indicated big money.

“I thought I’d leave my name with an agency here, for qualified domestics, and see what turns up. It would only be temporary, until you get tired of me.”

“You know I never will,” she said gently, and patted his hand. He was a good son, and always had been. She had been lucky with him. Javier was her heartbreak.

After dinner that night, they talked about what he’d seen in Argentina. It brought back memories for her, both good and bad, and she thought about them late into the night as she lay in bed, and then drifted off to sleep peacefully. She didn’t want to be a burden on her son, but she was glad that Joachim would be staying for a while. He was tucked away in her guest room sound asleep.

* * *

When Olivia got to Paris, she moved into the apartment she had rented for four weeks. It was on the top floor of a well-kept building on the quai Voltaire and was as modern and well decorated as the photographs had indicated. She had paid in advance. The guardian had the keys for her and showed her around. It had a big, spacious living room, sliding glass windows, a terrace, a single bedroom, bath, and modern kitchen. It was obviously owned as an investment to rent, so it lacked a warm personal touch. But it was wonderfully located, with a beautiful view of the river, with the barges and tourist boats drifting by, and a good view of the buildings on the Right Bank. It was perfectly adequate for a short-term rental, but she had a hunger to stay longer. The idea had been gnawing at her. She could even study French, not having the language might turn out to be a handicap, and she loved the idea of staying for six months or a year. She had no anchor anywhere now, no job, no family, no man in her life. Her relationships had never been long-term ones, or very successful. She had an aversion to getting too attached to anyone. For all of her adult life, and especially the last ten years, all her energy and passion had gone into her work, which hadn’t saved her magazine in the end. For the first time in her life, she had no obligations and no reason to be anywhere, and thanks to what her mother had left her, she could afford to take a year off. Sooner or later, she would need another job, for her head as well as her bank account, but she was in no hurry, and had no acute need at the moment, as long as she was reasonable and somewhat careful about what she spent.

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