by Lj McEvoy
‘Oh no that changed a few of years back and I know a young marriage can work sometimes,’ Lauren replied enthusiastically. ‘I like to think that if Peter and I had really tried maybe we too could’ve worked it out, but…’ her voice languished a little, then she looked across to Veronique with a faltering grin, ‘I’ll never get the chance to find out now.’ Quickly shaking her head she looked around the small café shrugging her shoulders, ‘C’est la vie.’
Veronique could easily read that that was the end of the subject, there was an awkward silence for a minute then hoping to lighten the subject perhaps she decided to let Lauren into a little family secret, ‘David decided he needed to get married, you know, thought he was doing the manly thing by standing by his pregnant girlfriend.’
Lauren turned sharply back to her making Veronique think that maybe she had said the wrong thing but then Lauren held her hand up to her mouth to smother her giggles, ‘Oops!’ she lightly replied.
‘Oops is right!’ Veronique said, both women side-glanced each other then burst into laughter almost telepathically thinking of David doing the manly thing.
They were lingering over the remains of their coffee, ‘Ahh so what if I’m late,’ Veronique stated, ‘lets have another coffee, shall we? And you can tell me exactly what is in all those shopping bags because I know from the shop names they’re definitely not groceries and not cheap clothing either.’
Lauren agreed and thoroughly enjoyed showing off her new wardrobe and delving into a new country called Light-hearted Gossip with her new friend.
Veronique was delighted she could revisit the place.
Chapter 15
Throughout the next few weeks, the bond between the two families became stronger. Lauren, Emma and Keith were guests at the Corvasieur family table with the Sunday invitation now being changed to every Saturday because of the children’s school hours and Gabrielle admitting to Lauren that Sunday was usually reserved for an afternoon dinner. ‘An extremely long and important family occasion in France, you know!’ she stated pretending to be snooty.
Lauren felt she had stepped into someone’s private dream world when she got to see Jean-Pierre’s art studio with the magical colours and crafts contained in that small cellar room.
‘You are honoured!’ Gabrielle informed her, ‘I am not even allowed to go down and clean that room.’
‘It is a bit on the untidy side Jean-Pierre, why don’t you let her down to clean it,’ as Lauren stared at the old, empty paint tubs and hardened brushes, to name but a few of the items strewn about the place.
‘What! But I’ll never be able to find anything.’
In awe, she looked around wondering how the hell he could find anything anyhow. Watching as Jean-Pierre proudly exhibited his latest works and what he called his ‘treasures,’ a collection of paintings and sketches showing the growing imagination and talent of his three sons throughout the years. Lauren could see that he was a man who truly loved his gift and undeniably proud of the fact that his sons inherited the same. Uninhibited by the thoughts of commercial success or fame, it was his form of expression, his dreams and perhaps a small bit of solace from the day to day toil of ordinary life.
When Joel and Veronique announced the news of their new arrival due in May, the family and friends celebrated with a lot of champagne. Veronique complained she was feeling left out already because she was unable to drink even a small bit of alcohol. ‘Will it be worse as I get bigger? Expectant mothers complain all the time in the hospital.’
Lauren carefully watched David’s reaction, glad to see his delight and broad smile but then he turned and caught her watching him. His dark brooding eyes told a different story he couldn’t hide his turmoil from her, she experienced it and saw it in her own eyes too many times since Peter’s death. It was a late night for them both as they shared their feelings and thoughts back in Lauren’s home.
Emma and Keith got the shocking experience of seeing a foal being born, the amount of questions Lauren got afterwards made her half regret letting them see it.
‘Were we born like that?’ Emma was in a wide-eyed daze. Keith was still trailing his jaw along the ground as they returned to the farmhouse.
Deciding to make a joke of it Lauren could only think of one reply, ‘no not exactly, you weren’t born in a barn there’s hospitals for us poor women.’
Emma snapped out of her stupefied trance, ‘you know what I mean Mammy! Stop messing.’
David deciding he needed to lose a few excesses of his non-working life thought it would be a good idea to go jogging with Lauren.
‘It’s about time you started again,’ Claude tried to pinch some fat on David’s midriff when he returned exhausted one Saturday, ‘you’re getting a middle age spread before your time!’
The comment started yet another one of their wrestling matches in the farmyard, it took Gabrielle’s tea towel to stop them and David’s exhaustion admitting that Lauren was fitter than he thought.
‘No my brother,’ Claude was now just as breathless and put his arm around David’s shoulders as they entered the house, ‘you’re getting old. You’re nearly forty now remember, while with me well, thirty three is an excellent age, don’t you think?’
David also kept his promise to call up to Lauren, on his first visit he knew by the anxious look on her face she was hoping he didn’t get the wrong impression from her invite. Deciding to play a trick on her by not opening the sports bag he brought with him, he could see she was eyeing it for some time as she sat upright and stiff on the sofa.
Eventually he moved over to the sofa beside her making sure he was as close as he possibly could, she was beginning to blush, ‘And now its French lessons time,’ he stated seductively as he opened the bag.
‘It’s what?’ Lauren said tonelessly.
David burst out laughing, producing from the bag a bottle of wine, some cheese and bread, ‘exactly what I said. Papa said you were interested in learning everything you possibly can about life in France. So I feel we should start with what the great French humanist Francois Rabelais called the holy trinity of the table.’ Holding up a large chunk of Brebis de Pays de Grasse and eyeing it authoritatively.
‘Nothing tastes as good as this cheese with a hot baguette and a bottle of white Cassis,’ closing his eyes he inhaled the aroma of the cheese and let a picture form in his mind of sheep feeding from the grass and lavender of the arid mountains of Provence. Opening one eye to side-glance Lauren he could see she was grinning at him.
David smiled, ‘Now relax and trust me I know we can be good friends,’ calmly emphasizing the final word.
‘I’ll go and heat up the baguette shall I?’ she asked, half-amazed by his little performance.
Sometimes Lauren left him with his own thoughts listening to music or writing while she worked on her laptop doing research on the internet or reading one of her favourite books. Liking her varied taste in music he teased her immensely when he found Abba and Britney Spears.
‘They’re Emma’s,’ in an attempt to defend herself but her blushes just got more intense.
David continuously brought up some wine, cheese and bread at least once a week introducing her to the delights of combining their wonderful tastes. He enjoyed recommending the different harmonies and contrasts of cheese and wine, a Poivre d’Ane cheese with Coteaux d’Aix rose wine which Lauren loved with its tingly peppery bite or the strong milky taste of a Brebis Frais du Caussedou with a Bergerac wine. The only time she refused was when he produced a Fourme d’Ambert, a cheese with blue mould, it was one of the mildest of blue cheeses but Lauren wouldn’t even smell it.
‘No way, I’d end up getting food poisoning from eating that cheese,’ she insisted.
‘You won’t!’ David was insulted.
‘I will,’ Lauren burst out laughing.
‘Won’t,’ he was getting very defensive.
‘Listen what wine did you bring?’ still giggling as she asked in a hopeless attempt to be diplomatic.
But David felt put out, ‘A Sauternes and a Bellet, both are white,’ he said despondently.
‘Okay, open the Bellet I’ve got some Chevre in the fridge, am I learning?’ attempting to cheer him up.
Although he got a tingle of delight because she got the combination right he just grunted in response to show he still disapproved of her refusal muttering under his breath, ‘Typical crazy Irish woman.’
‘I heard that mister! How many Irish women do you know?’ Lauren shouted from the hallway.
‘Only one,’ he quietly sighed, ‘I think that’s enough for the moment.’
But then there were the times when they talked late into the night sometimes both wanting to have the last word, sometimes Lauren just listened surrendering to the fact she couldn’t get a word in edgeways. Speaking of his problems so freely to Lauren only made David want to tell her more, of his childhood, his dreams and ambitions, successes and failures. As both would curl up on each end of her long sofa, their words bridged the gap between them with Lauren hugging a soft cushion and David needing to express everything he said with his hands and arms.
The night before David left for Italy he decided to bring up the subject of what his family thought of their friendship.
‘You know, they probably think we’re lovers, especially when I don’t arrive home until the early hours of the morning,’ scratching his head as he smiled thinking her embarrassment would show again. But he was in for a shock when it didn’t.
‘Well, you’ll just have to correct them. Won’t you?’ Lauren was bluntly serious not wanting gossip spreading throughout the village.
‘Oh,’ was all he could respond.
‘Oh,’ copying him, ‘Would you rather we changed the subject?’
‘I…I didn’t mean to insult you, Lauren please don’t misunderstand me,’ beginning to feel uncomfortable, he didn’t want to lose her friendship.
Noticing his discomfort she decided to make light of the conversation, ‘Who’s getting embarrassed now?’ softly smiling back to him.
He relaxed, ‘I’ll talk to Papa tomorrow, and he’ll soon spread the word to the rest of the family.’
‘And the village?’ she asked showing her true concern.
‘The village!’ he sat up straight now realising what she was worried about, ‘the people in the village will never, and I mean never know events within my family. Don’t worry we have always made sure of that, long before you entered our lives.’ Looking for some reassurance he asked her again, ‘Do you regret inviting me into your home Mon Amie?’
‘Crikey, David! How many times do I have to say no,’ laughing at the thought, ‘I enjoy your company sometimes it gets lonely in the evenings, you know!’
Knowingly he looked at her.
What a stupid thing to say Lauren, she scolded herself regretting that last sentence, ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s okay. It can be easily forgotten that a person can feel alone even when they are surrounded by family and friends,’ he sighed looking around the room.
Lauren laughed silently admitting he was just as blunt as she was sometimes.
‘Why are there no pictures of your husband? There are loads of photos I see Emma, Keith, family and even I presume, old friends but none of Peter I think,’ he got up to walk over to the collection on the piano and on the wall. ‘I saw the wedding photo of you both on the dresser in your bedroom,’ deciding to charmingly add, ‘you were very beautiful by the way.’
But Lauren again didn’t respond in the way he expected, ‘The children also have their favourites in their rooms.’ Briskly rising from the sofa, ‘would you like some tea or are you leaving early tonight?’ attempting to change the subject.
David turned to face her, ‘You want me to leave?’ he could see she was holding something back, the body language was gone stone cold, her shoulders tense but her eyes deceived her once more, the sadness was always there with nothing he could say or do to help her lose it.
‘I didn’t say that!’ she snapped now feeling ill at ease and immediately regretting her sharp response. ‘Do you want something to drink?’ asking him again as she left the room.
He didn’t answer wondering what she was hiding. Maybe I’ll get Jacques to check, thinking it was best not to broach the subject again. Turning to study the photos once more he heard a cracking sound in the kitchen like china hitting the tiles on the floor. On hearing Lauren curse he rushed up to the kitchen to see if all was well. Standing in the doorway, he watched as she cleared up a broken cup, she was giving out to herself, her hands were shaking ‘Shit, shit that was part of a beautiful wedding present.’
‘You haven’t grieved fully for him yet, have you,’ it was a statement rather than a question.
Kneeling on the floor Lauren continued to clear up, ‘how can you grieve for someone who committed suicide. It’s such a selfish act I could never feel regret for the loss,’ putting her hand up to her mouth then shakily covering her eyes, annoyed for finally admitting the cause of Peter’s death so openly.
David’s arms wrapped around her waist lifting her up, holding her close she resisted a little but then he felt her surrender returning the hug. Moving his hands softly and slowly from her waist to her shoulders, he started to gently massage them he felt a softness return like a great weight had lifted. Her head on his chest, they stayed in that position, silent.
Closing her eyes she admitted to David she still couldn’t cry for her loss. David kissed the top of her head as he felt a protective emotion rise within him and a need to be there for her as she is a constant for him, an urge for Lauren to open up to him suddenly he wanted to be part of her life more than it is now. Looking down David cupped her face in his hands moving in closer to kiss her. Lauren responded but then she got a feeling someone was watching them quickly she turned to see a small figure standing at the kitchen door.
‘Emma?’ Lauren said softly as the child ran back towards the stairs. Lauren pulled away, ‘Oh Christ, I hope she didn’t hear!’ running after her daughter.
By the time she reached Emma’s bedroom, the door was unusually shut tight; Lauren eased it open popping her head inside, ‘Can I come in?’
‘Yep,’ Emma was back in her bed but sitting upright with her knees held close to her chest. As Lauren sat down on the side of the bed Emma started to speak as if she was in a hurry to get the ordeal over and done with, ‘I’m sorry Mammy but I didn’t know David was with you and then I heard something smash in the kitchen, I just had to check to see if you were alright and…’
‘Hush hush now, slow down. It’s okay,’ Lauren brushed the hair from her daughter’s beautiful soft face placing it behind her ear, ‘were you there for long?’
‘No, I was on the stairs for a minute then when I didn’t hear anything I decided to check if you were okay. You are okay, aren’t you?’ Emma hesitated then added, ‘I mean its okay with you and David, he was going to kiss you, wasn’t he?’ she held her hand up to her mouth bringing her shoulders up to make that familiar shy girl giggle.
‘Only on the cheek, sweetheart,’ Lauren lied ‘he was saying goodnight.’ Relief swept through Lauren now knowing her daughter didn’t hear any part of her confession with David.
‘Aw, come on Mammy you can tell me. After all, we’re girls together aren’t we!’ showing her disappointment she hit the blanket with her hands.
‘Emma now don’t be silly! A relationship with David is the last thing on my mind and I’m sure it’s the same for him. He’s just getting over a divorce, remember. We’re friends and in France…’
‘I know, I know, we kiss each other hello and goodbye when we’re friends. Boring.’ Emma yawned.
‘Don’t be cheeky, madam. Now cuddle up with Pooh and give me a kiss and a hug.’
‘Bon nuit, Maman,’ Emma genuinely yawned.
‘Bon nuit sweetpea, I mean sweetheart,’ Lauren closed over the bedroom door turning to find David sitting on the top stairs.
‘Ca va?’ he stood up
quickly.
‘We need to talk,’ Lauren said as she pointed down the stairs.
Entering the kitchen once more Lauren bent down to finish picking up the broken pieces as David walked over to put on the kettle for some tea.
‘What do I say now? What do I do now? What just happened?’ he questioned himself. Deciding his best option was to make light of the situation, ‘Lately, we’ve been drinking too much tea when we’re together. And you smoke too much, when are you going to give them up?’
‘Well open a bottle of wine or have a beer,’ Lauren sounded serious. Unplugging the kettle he motioned an agreement to her suggestion, getting two bottles of beer from the fridge. He watched her but she wouldn’t look back as she pottered around the kitchen, clearing up. Decidedly he walked over taking her by the arm, ‘let’s go into the sitting room, it’s more comfortable,’ he smiled, ‘to talk, that is.’
Again as with previous times the night lasted way into the early hours of the morning, they both agreed that what nearly happened in the kitchen was a mistake, Lauren was adamant and David tried to sound convinced. But both knew it was too early for any sort of a relationship and a one-night stand was out of the question, Lauren hated them with David just smirking as he admitted he did succumb to one or two in his time.
Lauren finally opened up about Peter’s death. The Inquest she said called it an accidental death for insurance purposes she presumed, but she knew different. The fact that he stopped his car on unprotected railway tracks was suspicious but ignored. The car, it was decided, broke down, ‘nobody even considered the idea that he could have left it when he saw the oncoming train,’ she said sarcastically.
‘My marriage,’ she admitted, ‘was on the rocks, actually it was slowly dying a long time before I discovered that he knowingly permitted the transport and logistics business we jointly owned with my parents to be used for drug trafficking.’