Escape to the French Farmhouse

by Jo Thomas

  ‘Wait!’ I say. He seems overwhelmed by the situation. Stephanie’s face is taut with worry. I don’t think she could bear to be rejected again. ‘JB! Wait!’

  As he turns, in all the barking and chaos, I don’t hear the van pull up.

  ‘Hey!’ Fabien is there. He slings an arm around JB’s shoulders and JB stops, supported now. He looks down at Ralph, who sits obediently, his tongue lolling out. Fabien bends to shake his paw. Tomas sees Fabien, stops crying and wriggles to be put down. As soon as his feet touch the ground, he runs over to him.

  ‘So, I see JB found you! Sorry, I just had to make a delivery, but wanted to check he got here okay. He’d walked here already today but he couldn’t see Stephanie and wondered if he had the right place. So I brought him back.’

  Tomas launches himself at Fabien’s legs and hugs them, nearly toppling their owner.

  ‘Hey!’ he says, and lifts Tomas up. Stephanie walks towards them. Fabien kisses him on both cheeks. Rhi, Lou and I don’t move. My heart is leaping. Fabien is here! He made this happen!

  The wind around us is picking up, the mistral, the wind of change letting us know she’s never far away.

  JB watches Fabien with Tomas. Then Fabien looks at Stephanie, as if asking if it’s okay to introduce JB to her child. Stephanie nods, wide-eyed and worried. He turns to JB, still holding Tomas. ‘JB, Tomas,’ he says, and holds Tomas’s little hand towards his father. JB gazes at him with a mix of bewilderment and awe. He looks at Stephanie with the same expression. Then Tomas reaches for him and JB doesn’t move away. Tomas reaches for the peak of his cap and pulls it towards him, JB with it, and we all smile. JB takes off his baseball cap, revealing his face. I watch Stephanie, who doesn’t take her eyes off the pair. Tomas has the cap and is waving it around, then JB puts it on his son’s head. Tomas whips it off and throws it to the ground, laughing. JB picks it up, puts it on his head again, and Tomas whips it off, throwing it to the ground again, laughing even louder. Father and son may just have said hello.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say to Fabien. I’m in the kitchen preparing dinner, ragout sauce with pasta, that I’ll serve with a big green salad and baguettes. I sip the glass of rosé Fabien has poured for me.

  ‘It was my pleasure,’ he says, as we watch JB and Stephanie playing with Tomas from the kitchen window.

  ‘He’s already asked if he can come back tomorrow,’ I tell Fabien. ‘He told Stephanie he was sorry about the day she came to the house. He was just shocked. Not sure how to explain to his parents. They are quite elderly. He didn’t want to upset them. But he’d thought about nothing else since she left him and really wanted to meet Tomas.’

  ‘Good. I’m glad. She deserves some luck,’ he says, turning his back to the window and leaning against the work surface. I can feel him watching me. My hands are shaking as I season the sauce with sprinkles of sea salt and a grind of pepper. Heat rushes up my neck and into my cheeks. He’s still watching me as I carry the pot to the oven. There are so many unspoken words hanging in the air. I feel so distracted that I nearly drop the pot but Fabien steps in and steadies it. I can smell his aftershave, which reminds me of the lavender fields and pine trees, of being here, of home. I can feel him next to me and think my legs might give way. Fabien is here. When I need him, he’s always here. And right now I want nothing more than to give in to all the feelings that are consuming my body and mind. I turn slowly towards him and look into his green eyes. I look at his lips. He’s so much younger than I am, a voice says in my head. Why would he be interested in me? The nagging doubts swirl in my mind.

  We look at each other, holding the big terracotta pot between us, wondering where this is going and searching each other’s face for answers.

  ‘Any more wine?’ says Lou, coming into the kitchen. I take the heavy pot from Fabien and slide it into the oven.

  ‘Of course,’ says Fabien, his usual charming self.

  ‘You’ll make someone a great husband one day,’ says Lou. ‘If only I were ten years younger!’ I blush.

  ‘And that you hadn’t sworn off men for life!’ I tease her.

  ‘I think Fabien could convince me there’s a second chance out there for me!’

  Out of the window JB and Stephanie are laughing as they begin to relax in each other’s company, with Tomas’s help. Tomas is showing JB his rocking horse and how Ralph and he play chase together. Oh, and he’s moved on to his frog impression! Stephanie is about to burst with pride and happiness. This is her second chance! Fabien made it happen. It’s what he does, gives broken things new life. But, will there be one for me? I think of Ollie, his new life, his baby. Did he ever love me?

  Fabien is holding the bottle and tops up my glass. ‘You made this happen, Del,’ he says, pointing to JB and Stephanie. ‘You brought this little family back together.’

  ‘You did! You were there for them this afternoon.’

  ‘None of us would be here if not for you. You are a very special lady and a beautiful one at that. You just have to realize it yourself,’ says Fabien. ‘Love yourself, and let yourself be loved.’

  ‘Come on, let’s join the others,’ I say, leading him outside, batting off his words.

  As the sun sets over the valley that evening and dusk turns to night, Stephanie and Tomas are tucked up in the gypsy caravan. Fabien has taken JB back to the bus stop in town and he has promised to return tomorrow. I hope he does. Rhi hasn’t looked at her camera link with the salon all day, and Lou has removed the nail polish that got ruined when we planted the lavender. I can’t stop thinking about Fabien’s words. Did he mean them, or was he just being nice? I’m exhausted and head straight to bed.

  Outside the dark sky is scattered with stars. The cicadas are chirping and I can’t sleep. I think again of Ollie and his new life. And Fabien’s words: ‘Love yourself, and let yourself be loved.’ Despite the heat of the night, I shiver.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  The following week slips into a pattern: Stephanie and I work, and JB visits in the afternoons. They seem to be getting closer.

  ‘I think it’s time we went home,’ says Rhi.

  I’m cleaning down the old wooden work surface in the kitchen. ‘Why?’ I say.

  ‘Well, we only came to try to persuade you to come home. And now we know you’re not going anywhere, we should probably go back to our own lives.’ Rhi doesn’t seem too happy at the prospect and neither does Lou. But they’re right. They can’t stay here just keeping an eye on me for ever. This is my life and my home now. And I’m happy here, with or without my friends, just me, Ralph and my lavender. I’ll still have Stephanie and Tomas: they’re not going anywhere.

  ‘You’re happy here. We can see that. This is your home. You have everything,’ she says. Nearly everything, I think. I’m glad Fabien and I are speaking again, friends at least. And that’s what’s important. I don’t want anything to spoil that. I’m not here to find a partner. I’m here to be me, on my own. I’ve had love in my life, and it’s been taken away: Mum and Ollie. I trusted Ollie. I forgave him when he said, ‘It was just a one-off.’ I stayed with him then because we’d loved each other. And he was clearly in touch with that woman all the time we were out here, no doubt when he was in the car on his phone. It was all a sham. Being friends with Fabien is just about as good as it gets. It’s enough. I don’t want to make things awkward. This is my home. I’m lucky to have good friends, I think. The sort of friends who would put their lives on hold to come here to see if I’m okay and stay until they know I am. And I am. I have a new life and it’s great.

  I hug Rhi, then finish clearing up the kitchen from the morning’s bakes. Stephanie has walked into town to deliver them to Henri. She’ll meet JB off the bus, and they’ll walk back here. He’s even helped to plant and water the new lavender Serge has sold me. He’s becoming almost a permanent fixture around here, looking for work so he can help support his family. They’ve even been to visit his parents with Tomas. And every night, as the sun sets in the purple sky and the
cicadas chirp, we eat outside together, breathing in the smell of the newly planted lavender field.

  ‘When are you planning on leaving?’ I ask.

  ‘Well, as soon as we can book flights, really,’ Rhi says. ‘We can’t just stay on, living off you. You have your own life now.’

  ‘I wish you could.’

  ‘I know, but some of us aren’t as brave as you are.’

  ‘I wish I was,’ says Lou, joining us in the kitchen.

  ‘But you are! Look at what you’ve been through, Lou. You lost your husband and made a life for yourself. You invested your money wisely and are comfortably off.’

  ‘Well, I exist, more like,’ she says flatly.

  ‘And you, Rhi, you’ve brought up two children on your own and built a business.’

  ‘Since I’ve been here, I’ve discovered that the business, like my kids, can manage perfectly well without me. I just feel … well, redundant,’ she says. ‘But, like I say, we’re not all as brave as you, coming out here and building a new life for yourself. I wish I was more like you!’

  ‘Me? I’m lurching from one disaster to another here!’

  ‘No, you do what you think is right at the time. You were right about leaving Ollie and you were right to stay here,’ says Lou.

  ‘And about Stephanie and JB,’ says Rhi.

  ‘You won’t go until you’ve said goodbye to her, will you?’

  They smile and shake their heads.

  ‘What if we had another go at getting the chambre d’hôte business up and running? You could stay longer!’ I’m grabbing at straws.

  ‘Well, I don’t think our decorating skills are up to it. And where would the guests stay if we were taking up the bedrooms?’

  ‘True …’ I nod.

  We gaze at each other sadly, wishing our time together hadn’t come to an end. But we all have to move forward and get on with our own lives.

  ‘What will you do when you get home?’

  ‘Go back to the business, maybe look at expanding and getting another shop. That would keep me busy,’ says Rhi.

  ‘I might book a cruise,’ says Lou. ‘Find myself a wealthy man to keep me in the manner I’d like to become accustomed to.’ We laugh, because if we don’t, we might cry.

  ‘And you?’ asks Rhi.

  ‘I’ll carry on doing the markets, and making the desserts for Henri. And I want to bring back the lavender field so I can make essential oil and soaps.’ Even thinking about being in the field, with the scent of the earth and the lavender, fills my soul with well-being and joy. I’m happy here, content, and that’s not a bad place to be.

  ‘There’s an afternoon flight we can get from Marseille,’ says Lou. The internet connection was obviously, disappointingly, behaving itself for once.

  ‘Best we get packing,’ says Rhi, busying herself as she always does when she’s upset. There’s a real reluctance in the air: none of us wants to say goodbye.

  They go up to their rooms and I listen to them moving around, packing and getting ready to go. This is it. I’m cutting ties with my old life. They’ve been the bridge between my old and new lives. Now the bridge has been drawn up and I’m on one side and they’re on the other, wishing each other love and luck. I look out again on the sunny field as I finish in the kitchen, drying the washing-up and putting it away, then doing what I seem to do when I’m not sure what to do next: I open the old recipe book that Fabien gave me, its musty smell and aged pages bringing me comfort, then settle on what to cook for dinner that night: lamb shanks with lavender, new potatoes and petit pois. I’ll gather my baskets and walk into town to get the ingredients once Rhi and Lou have gone. That should take my mind off things. I focus on trying to translate the recipe.

  Bump, bump, bump.

  It’s Rhi and Lou bringing their cases down the stairs, taking more lumps out of the fragile walls as they go. But I don’t mind. Those marks will act as a reminder of the special time we’ve had while they were here. I won’t rush to paint over them. If at all.

  They leave their cases in the hall and I grab a bottle of rosé for us to enjoy in the garden before their taxi comes to take them to the airport.

  ‘Say goodbye to Fabien for us, won’t you?’ says Lou.

  And I blush.

  Pop! goes the cork, and I let my redness be mistaken for exertion.

  ‘Of course!’ I pour the glorious light pink wine into my mismatched glasses, which I love. Life with Ollie was about everything matching, everything in its place. I like my new life, where nothing matches or has to be in a particular place. We’re all just finding our own.

  ‘To new beginnings,’ I say huskily. We raise our glasses and let the cold wine linger on our tongues before swallowing it, along with any remaining sadness.

  We put our glasses on the table. Rhi checks her phone for the time and is anxious. We’re all lost in our own thoughts. I know she’ll be worrying about getting to the airport on time. She likes to be punctual. Lou will be trying to work out where she can go next, keep moving, planning the next trip. I’m wondering what life will be like when they’ve gone. We listen to the birdsong and the crickets in the grass. It’s so peaceful. I shut my eyes and hold my face to the sun. Suddenly, I’m catapulted out of my trance-like state by someone shouting my name. It’s Stephanie.

  ‘Del! Del!’

  I stand up, knocking over my wine, which spills over my legs. Rhi and Lou jump up too. I run to the front of the house. Ralph is barking and I can’t hear what Stephanie is saying. She’s out of breath from running and trying to talk and to hold back tears all at the same time.

  ‘What? What is it? Ralph, quiet!’ And for once Ralph does as he’s told.

  Stephanie bends over, her hands on her knees, and takes a deep breath. Rhi runs out with some water. But Stephanie doesn’t take it and waves it away.

  ‘Is it Tomas? What’s happened?’

  She shakes her head. ‘Not Tomas, he’s fine. He’s with JB at the clearing by the river. I couldn’t carry him.’ And I realize this is probably the first time she’s left JB with Tomas. So if it’s not Tomas, what or who is it? She takes a huge breath. ‘It’s Henri!’

  ‘Henri?’ we all exclaim, and stare at her.

  ‘I think he’s having a heart attack!’

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  When we arrive, out of breath and hot, Fabien is already there. The suitcases have been abandoned by the front door and Ralph has followed, running close behind us down the river path to the clearing.

  ‘JB came for me,’ he says, nodding to JB with Tomas in his arms. ‘The ambulance is on its way.’

  I look at Henri lying on the ground, like a giant oak tree having been felled. His face is ashen. The man I’ve seen at the clearing, with the long beard and hair, and very kind eyes, is kneeling beside him.

  ‘Alain has given him the kiss of life,’ says Fabien. ‘Henri is very lucky he was here.’

  I wonder what Henri was doing in the clearing.

  Stephanie is beside me, tears running down her cheeks, her face racked with worry. Even Ralph seems to sense the seriousness of the situation and lies down beside Henri, as if to keep him warm.

  I crouch and take his hand. ‘Stay with us, Henri. Just hang on in there.’ I’m willing him to hang on until the ambulance arrives. This man has been a lifeline to me since I moved here. And I’m not the only one, by the look on Stephanie’s face.

  When the ambulance arrives Fabien explains who Henri is.

  ‘Do you want to go in the ambulance with him?’ a kind paramedic asks me in French, as I scramble to my feet. He and his colleague move Henri on to the stretcher and into the ambulance.

  ‘Um, well …’ I look at Fabien and then Alain, who has retreated back into the shadows of the big pine tree and the sofa.

  ‘You go,’ says Fabien.

  ‘We can look after things here, take Ralph back,’ says Rhi.

  ‘We’ll cancel the taxi, change our flights. Just until things are sorted,’ says Lou, with wh
at seems almost like relief. But I feel so lucky to have my friends still here, like they belong in this community too.

  I nod to the paramedic and step towards the ambulance.

  ‘No!’ Stephanie says, grabbing my arm. ‘You cannot go!’

  ‘Why not?’ I ask. ‘Someone should be with him.’

  ‘No! You need to cook!’

  ‘Cook?’ I’m puzzled. This isn’t a time for thinking about our evening meal.

  ‘Not for us, for these people.’ She holds out a hand and two more people, in dark clothing with unkempt hair, join Alain by the sofa and he explains what’s happened.

  ‘What do you mean, I need to cook for these people?’ I’m still no wiser.

  ‘Henri!’ she says urgently. ‘He has many people relying on him. He cooks for the bistro, and then everything that is left when he closes he brings here, every evening, and serves it to the people who need it.’ She points to the little hut with the closed hatch. ‘He was here checking for any empty bowls that got left behind after he cleared away last night, like he does every morning. He checks no mess was left behind. You have to help. Without Henri, there is many a time I would have gone without food. Same for many of these people. They are relying on him.’

  I look around the clearing. ‘I can’t cook – at least, not for so many people!’ I may have enjoyed cooking for all of us at the house, but there’s no way I could cook restaurant standard food in the bistro and for the numbers Henri must feed every day. ‘I’m just a home cook!’

  I look at the ambulance and they’re shutting one door, waiting to shut the other. The lights are flashing.

  ‘I thought I heard sirens.’ Cora appears from the other side of the ambulance. ‘I heard it from the garden. I’m having some new tiles laid,’ she says. ‘Anything I can do to help?’

  This is becoming a spectator sport, I think. My hackles start to rise. Henri is a good, kind man who is in real need.

  ‘Who is it? One of the hoboes?’ She looks at Alain, who has possibly saved Henri’s life with his quick thinking and actions.