Hand On Heart: Sequel to Head Over Heels

by Downing, Sara

  ‘Alex, I’m sorry, that was unforgiveable of me,’ Mark said, as Alex continued to storm on ahead of him. But he could see her slowing down, her shoulders beginning to droop as she came to a halt. He turned her around to find her sobbing, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  ‘I can’t forget him, Mark, don’t ask me to. But I love you, you’re my husband, and you’re mad for taking us all on, I know.’ Here she managed a little giggle between the sobs.

  ‘I love you, Alex, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Can we forget that just happened and get back to our lovely honeymoon?’

  ‘I hope so,’ she replied, taking his hand and looking up into his eyes, her own still brimming with tears. ‘I really hope so.’

  August 2015

  ‘Oh God, Mark, they’re behind us!’ Alex shrieked. They had just driven past a pair of Gendarmes on motorbikes, at speed. The bikes were nicely tucked away in a side turning, completely invisible until they were right in front of them. But by then they were still going faster than they should be, with no time at all to slow down. They had this off to a tee, the French motorway police; both bikes were revved up and ready for action, poised to chase after any poor, unsuspecting Brit – especially one in a top-end four-by-four – who dared to flout the laws of the road. A friend of Mark’s had warned him that the French motorway police were tougher than ever now, especially with the English, but speed came so easily in a country like this, where the motorways were eerily quiet and you could actually put your foot down and go. Mile upon mile stretched ahead, with so little traffic, surely it wasn’t exactly dangerous to be driving slightly over the speed limit, was it? It was hardly the M25 during the rush-hour. But you try telling that to those fearsome looking Gendarme behind us, Alex thought to herself. They were unlikely to take any nonsense from anyone.

  ‘Oh shit, they’re chasing us. Pull over, Mark!’

  The trouble was, it was impossible to slow down quickly when you were going that fast. It felt like an age until they finally came to a halt. Mark turned off the engine and wound down the window, waiting to hear what fate had in store for them. Alex had a sudden urge to empty her bladder, and wondered quite how she would hang onto it, especially if these guys were as scary close up as they looked from afar. The children were silent in the two rear rows of the car, and Archie had even taken off his headphones.

  ‘Mum?’ he asked, sounding anxious.

  ‘It’s OK, love, Mark was just going a little too fast. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.’

  ‘Mummy, what’s going to happen, are those policemen going to put Daddy in prison?’ Rosie asked.

  ‘Nooooo, don’t be silly!’ She tried to sound bright and breezy, but the Gendarmes were still sauntering towards them, taking all the time in the world. Clearly it was part of the double act, to get you shaking in your shoes before they even spoke to you. At this rate she would need more than just a wee. She wished they’d hurry up and get this over with.

  ‘Is it going to be like ‘Police, Camera, Action,’ Daddy?’ Bertie blurted out. ‘Where they film you doing really bad stuff and then put it on TV? Will they blank out your face like they always do with the baddies? And put beeps in if you say a naughty word?’

  ‘Quiet, darling, there’s a good boy. Let Daddy talk to the nice men,’ Alex said, then added: ‘And Daddy’s not a baddy.’

  ‘I hope they realise it was you driving, darling,’ she tried to joke with Mark, seeing the Gendarmes begin to approach her side of the car. ‘I’ve got no steering wheel, how could it be me?’ Nerves mad her giggle inappropriately.

  The Gendarmes weren’t stupid though; more like highly trained psychopaths, out to terrorise otherwise law abiding citizens. Mark smiled up at them optimistically as they finally came alongside his window. ‘Bonjour Messieurs,’ Mark began, thinking that being pleasant to them might help.

  Never had a pair of sterner faces been seen. No ‘Good Cop, Bad Cop’ routine here, then, both looked scary, Alex thought, both Bad Cop. One of them, the younger of the two, was undeniably handsome, and on any other occasion, when you weren’t just about to be nicked for speeding, most definitely quite sexy in that uniform. But now wasn’t the time or the place to stop and admire a fine example of Gallic manhood. She smiled too, a nervously wide Cheshire Cat smile, largely to disguise the fact that she was terrified. And about to wet herself.

  The children were sitting in stunned silence, looking on worriedly as Mark was asked to get out of the car.

  ‘Mummyyyyyy, I don’t want Daddy to go to prison. I want to go on holiday!’ Rosie shrieked. ‘If Daddy goes to prison, who’s going to drive us to the holiday?’

  ‘Daddy’s not going to prison, love. Don’t worry, the men just need to take some details, then Daddy will probably have to pay some money, and then we will be able to carry on. Don’t worry, we’re still going on holiday, sweetheart.’ She turned round and tried to give the children a reassuring smile, even if inside, her guts were dissolving into mush.

  Mark’s command of the French language was sufficiently good for him to understand that he was to receive an on-the-spot fine. Bastards, he thought to himself. Wouldn’t mind betting a lot of this gets pocketed for beer money, before it even makes it back to the station. Then he reprimanded himself for daring to think that these fine, upstanding upholders of the law could possibly be corrupt. He’d been a lawyer for far too long – it made you suspicious of everyone.

  As the older Gendarme began to write out the ticket, there was a whoosh and a rush of air which almost knocked the three men off their feet. Mark caught sight of the rear of the passing car as it sped out of sight, an Audi R8, going like a bat out of hell. Now he’s the sort of driver these guys ought to be after, he thought to himself. That’s proper dangerous driving, that is.

  Clearly the Gendarmes were on the same wavelength. With a quick glance at one another, they gave Mark a Gallic shrug of the shoulders and one emitted a noise which sounded a bit like ‘Bof.’ Then they were gone, back to their bikes and off up the AutoRoute in pursuit of someone who really deserved to be pulled in and reprimanded.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Mark said, returning to the car and his family. ‘Did you see that? Don’t reckon their chances of catching him up, do you? But thank you Mr Audi R8, whoever you are, for just saving me a hundred euros.’ He breathed out loudly, the tension visibly lifting from his shoulders.

  ‘Phew,’ Alex said. ‘That was close. Yeah, you’re right, never seen the French police miss an opportunity to book a Brit. They must have really wanted the other guy.’

  ‘No Daddy,’ piped up Millie in an imperious voice, ‘they just wanted to drive their motorbikes really, really fast. It’s what men do.’

  They all collapsed into giggles, and at that point Archie deemed it safe to put his headphones back on. Family crisis over, he could return to his music.

  ‘Come on, let’s get out of here before they decide to come back,’ said Alex. ‘Although not so fast this time, yeah?’

  A few hours later they pulled into a service station and decamped for refreshments.

  ‘Mark, come and have a look at this,’ Archie called, tapping on his stepfather’s arm as he was standing in a queue. ‘Look, on the TV screen over there. Isn’t that the car we saw?’

  Mark followed him over for a closer look. A news channel was running the day’s stories, and Mark paid closer attention to the French subtitles rolling along the bottom when he spotted what looked like the speeding R8 in the picture.

  ‘A British man has been arrested for driving the fastest ever on a French road,’ read the scrolling caption, which Mark translated for Archie. ‘The high performance car was travelling so fast that it broke the radar gun, and the four Gendarmes involved in the man’s arrest were unable to ascertain just how far in excess of the 260 kilometres per hour the man was driving, as this is the maximum that the speed guns can measure.

  ‘It took four officers seven kilometres to catch up with the speeding driver, who is a busine
ssman from London. The vehicle has since been impounded and the man’s driving licence was confiscated. He faces the likelihood of a ban from driving on all French roads and a heavy fine.’

  ‘That’s him, that’s the guy who pulled us over!’ Alex shrieked, coming up behind her husband and son. There he was, beaming his handsome smile from the big screen, his teeth so white they almost glinted in the glare of the camera. Clearly their two Gendarmes had been amongst the four men who apprehended the speeding driver.

  ‘Well, good job they left us alone then and went off to catch him,’ Mark said. ‘Catching us lot wouldn’t have got them onto the national news channel now, would it?’

  ‘Ha, you’re right there,’ Alex laughed. ‘At least we’ll have a tale to tell the others later, won’t we?’

  ‘Yeah, better get back on the road,’ replied Mark. ‘Or we’re going to miss this bash.’

  Twenty-One – Friends

  August 2015

  The day dawned bright and sunny – yet again. Evie was going to miss this weather, the constant, never-ending continuum of one warm, sunny and settled day after another. She dreaded the end of summer, and the feeling that always came over her at this time of the year that the season was nearly over. In France late August still felt like midsummer, but back home, the mornings would be dewy and the evenings chilly, and the daylight hours fast shortening. Most likely all the holiday clothes would gradually be relegated to the back of the wardrobe, and the autumnal jumpers and jeans would start to come out, little by little. She reflected gloomily that they had less than two weeks left before the girls had to go back to school, and the thought of the impending routine of term-time was not an appealing one. Plus she would really miss the girls; they had all had a fantastic time here.

  Immy had done incredibly well in her GCSE results, as predicted. She’d managed to get online for long enough, the day before, to access the information, and she was over the moon. Evie and James were so proud of her. They had let her go wild on social media for an hour or two, until the Wi-Fi gave up on her, to share the news with her friends and find out how they had done, too.

  Evie couldn’t feel despondent for too long about summer coming to an end – she shouldn’t, after the way the holiday had gone. She had arrived feeling less than confident that her marriage would ever regain the status that it had prior to James’ affair, but would be going home in the knowledge that there was hope for the future. She knew for sure that she still loved James and wanted to be with him. She was in a good place in her head, and that coupled with the fact that she was excited about properly starting out on her writing career, meant she had a lot to look forward to this autumn. It might be the end of summer, but it was a time for new beginnings all round, she thought.

  Despite Immy’s exciting news the day before, the girls, too, were suffering from end-of-holiday-itis, moping around the chateau full of doom and gloom. She thought they would be in a hurry to get back to the technological trappings of modern life, but both had enjoyed this holiday more than they dared let on.

  ‘We’ve still got today, so make the most of it,’ she said to them, trying to be cheerful, as they headed out to the pool to top up their tans for the last time. ‘Dad’s got us a nice restaurant booked for tonight, we’ll have a great day.’

  ‘Grrr,’ groaned Ana, who couldn’t be bothered to string a sentence together at that particular moment.

  ‘Don’t want to go home, Mum. S’been a great holiday,’ Immy said wistfully.

  Evie thought it had been a while since her eldest daughter had sounded quite so enthusiastic about something. Anything. She knew it had more than a little to do with the lovely Pascal, and the sweet and innocent (she hoped) holiday romance that had been blossoming between the two of them.

  ‘Pascal’s coming out with us all tonight, isn’t he? You can see him for the last time, exchange numbers and all that?’

  ‘Yeah… But don’t say ‘last’, Mum,’ she said gloomily. Evie remembered that lovely feeling, the first flush of young love. There was nothing more exquisite, but nothing more painful, either.

  ‘Grace, I need to let you into a secret,’ James said, cornering her in the kitchen. He whispered into her ear.

  ‘Oh, James!’ she exclaimed after he’d explained what was happening. He needed Evie out of the way for a couple of hours, he said, so could Grace take her into town for a coffee and a browse? He needed all the others to stay behind, he’d fill them in on the situation when she’d left.

  ‘Of course I can, that’s no problem. Good luck with it all,’ she said, brightly, as she went off to find Evie. This was going to be tricky; Evie had just applied her sun cream and looked to be lining herself up for a few uninterrupted hours of sunbathing.

  Grace was adamant that Evie had to come with her, pleading that she needed to see as much of her friend as she could, as the few days before school started back would be busy, and they wouldn’t have much of a chance to catch up. Fortunately Evie gave into Grace’s nagging without too much fuss.

  ‘What are you wearing tonight?’ Grace asked Evie in the car.

  ‘Well, I thought that maxi dress I bought in London, I haven’t worn it yet and it’s a bit special, but seeing as tonight’s the last night, I might as well go for it.’

  ‘Perfect,’ Grace thought to herself. The star of the show was going to look a million dollars. She always did, anyway, but Grace knew Evie would hate to be inappropriately dressed for an occasion.

  The pair of them pootled around town for the requisite two hours, just as James had asked. There wasn’t a lot to see, but by the time they’d had a coffee in one place, ice cream in another, and a pre-lunch appetiser in a third, they were done and Grace texted James to tell him they were on their way home.

  ‘Almost done – safe to come back,’ he replied.

  There were several unfamiliar cars and a couple of vans on the drive as they pulled up.

  ‘What’s going on here, then?’ Evie sounded suspicious. Grace was bursting with excitement.

  The pair of them walked around to the rear of the chateau, which was a hive of activity. Evie’s jaw fell open in surprise when she saw what was happening. James came rushing over to her, grabbing her hand and pulling her to him.

  One side of the terrace was being turned into a French street café, complete with Bistro-style tables and chairs, tablecloths and candles. There were even street lamps, just like the ones that lit up the banks of the Seine. A group of men were busy erecting a red awning and putting up a Café de la Paix sign above. Two of these men were dressed as waiters, in black waistcoats and bow ties, with long, white aprons.

  Over the far side of the pool was the bar, which looked as though it had been lifted straight from a café; a long wooden counter with half a dozen stools in front of it and a packed drinks cabinet and fridges behind. On the counter, champagne glasses were stacked upside down to form a pyramid. A smartly dressed bartender was unpacking bottles into the fridge.

  A marquee had sprung up on the lawn, bearing the sign ‘Chez Joséphine’ over the entrance, and Henri was busy directing the caterers, who were carrying huge platters of food towards the tables inside. The entrance was decorated with bunting bearing the Tricolour and propped up by the door were a couple of wine bottle-shaped chalk boards, bearing details of today’s menu. Tom and Immy were stringing up fairy lights, while Ana helped Lily and Jack unpack paper plates and crockery. They all looked over at Evie and grinned.

  ‘Oh…my…God!’ Evie exclaimed. ‘James, what have you been up to?’ She was overwhelmed, couldn’t take it all in. ‘You did all this, without me knowing? How on earth…?’

  ‘Darling, it’s all for you. Well, you and the eighty-odd guests who will be arriving in an hour or so.’

  ‘Oh my God, I don’t know what to say, James, it’s amazing. You’re amazing. How on earth did you all keep this secret? Who’s coming? How did they all manage to keep it secret too?’

  ‘Well, Grace and Tom didn’t know till
this morning. Henri did, of course. It was all arranged with him before we came over. Coincidentally he knows Alex’s friend Hugo, the wine guy. They used to work together. He’s been brilliant, helping me buy stuff in, all the booze and that, and keeping it in his barn for me. It took a bit of wheeler-dealering, but we got there in the end. Our friends are all coming, everyone from home, Alex, Mark and the kids, of course, Hugo and Eloise, our parents, everyone who loves us, basically. And there’ll be a few surprises too.’

  Evie really didn’t know what to say. Clearly those who had had to make travel plans had known for a while now – but she’d seen Alex just before they left and she hadn’t breathed a word. Evie would never have guessed that everyone was hiding a big secret like this. But poor Tom and Grace, being kept in the dark until today. And the girls, too, presumably? She supposed James had to do that, it would have been so easy to let something slip otherwise, with them all under the same roof for the past fortnight. She smiled to herself at the thought of little Lily and Jack having to keep a secret like that. It wouldn’t have made it past the first ten minutes, bless them.

  ‘Oh, it looks like the band is just arriving,’ James said. ‘Pascal sorted that out, they’re all friends of his.’ Another group of men were busy setting up a small stage and sound system.

  ‘Pascal too? You knew him before the holiday?’

  ‘Yeah, well I didn’t know him, but Henri volunteered him to help before we came out here. I just didn’t count on him falling for our eldest daughter!’

  Evie laughed. ‘This is all amazing, James, I don’t know what to say.’ Then she turned serious: ‘Really though, the holiday alone was enough, I mean, look at us two, we’re back on track again, aren’t we? We’ve all had an amazing time, it’s been the best holiday ever. And now this, too! James, it’s brilliant, thank you.’

  ‘Well I wanted to do something to prove to you that I’m serious about our future, Evie. It’s to say sorry, and thank you, and I love you and happy anniversary, all wrapped up into one big party.’ It was their seventeenth wedding anniversary in just over a week’s time. ‘And to say thank you to all the friends who have stood by us, too, of course.’ Tom and Grace were walking across to them.