by T A Williams
As Faye held up her glass, she studied it. Lying at the bottom was what looked like a Maraschino cherry, covered by a chestnut brown liquid, with a couple of ice cubes bobbing at the top. When the time came to taste it, her immediate reaction was to heartily agree with Eddie’s assessment that he had made it strong. Whatever else was in there, there was a healthy, or more probably unhealthy, shot of some kind of powerful spirit, and it almost burned her lips. She mustered a smile and set the glass down, determined to make this one last.
In deference to Eddie’s hip and Miss Beech’s age, they all sat down on the sofas and Miss Beech expertly got them talking. It was mostly in English for Miss Beech’s sake, but she clearly understood a good deal of what Dominique said in French and the conversation flowed. In particular, she managed to draw Gavin into the conversation by asking him about this year’s lavender crop.
As he answered her questions, Faye could see him visibly start to relax a bit more and she felt sure this social outing would be very good for helping him to overcome the depression that had been plaguing him. She had, by now, worked out that what she had initially interpreted as grumpiness was the sadness brought about by the deaths of first his father, and then his brother in the accident. Hopefully this meant that he was starting to get back to normal at long last.
Faye joined in the lavender conversation herself at one point. ‘I’ve got a lady called Désirée Desherbes in my English class. I gather her father’s firm are big in lavender. Do you work with them?’
Gavin nodded. ‘Yes, they buy all our lavender and roses. I’ve known Oscar Desherbes since I was a little boy. My father and he were good friends.’
‘She tells me they have a holiday home here and they used to come every summer.’
‘Yes. Gavin knows Désirée all right,’ Dominique chimed in with a grin on her face. ‘She and he used to have a bit of a thing when we were all youngsters. Isn’t that right, Gavin?’
He actually blushed. ‘That was a heck of a long time ago, Dominique. We were both still at school.’ He glanced across at Faye. ‘A bit of a holiday romance. It didn’t last. I think you’ll find she’s quite good at English. She spends a lot of time travelling round on business for the company, as far as I know.’
‘Yes, well, she’s definitely one of the best in the top class.’
Faye sat next to Gavin at dinner, opposite Dominique, and they chatted about all manner of things from farming to Miss Beech’s biography and to Faye’s English lessons. A bit later on, taking advantage of the relaxed environment, Faye deemed the time right to ask him for a favour.
‘In our English course, we’re role-playing conversations between foreign tourists and local winemakers. In a few weeks’ time, once they’ve got their confidence up, would you maybe be prepared to come along one evening to play the part of a particularly demanding customer? I’d really like them to see what it’s like when they’re faced with a native speaker. Would you be prepared to do that? Please …’
As she had intended, in the present company, he couldn’t really say no and she was delighted to hear him agree. ‘Of course I’ll do it, but I’ve got a favour to ask of you in return.’ He gave her a smile. ‘Although it’s already started, please could you squeeze Dominique into your course? She really needs to do some English too.’ He looked across the table. ‘Right, Dominique?’
Dominique nodded. ‘Right. I’ve been putting it off and putting it off, but I really need to do something about my English.’
Faye was delighted. ‘Terrific! And of course I can find a place for Dominique.’
It was a very pleasant evening and a predictably excellent meal. Claudette’s starter was a serving of foie gras, presented on a bed of caramelized pears, accompanied by warm toast in a basket. Also on the plate were quails’ eggs and a selection of green and black olives. The dish was served with a glass of ice-cold Sauternes wine: rich, sweet, and golden. The lamb that followed was as good as ever, and the accompanying Meursault excellent. By the time they reached the tarte tatin, Faye was feeling absolutely full, but awed to have been on the receiving end of such a feast.
Finally, as the clock struck eleven, an hour later than her norm, Miss Beech rose to her feet and bade them all goodnight. Gavin and Dominique stood up, thanked Miss Beech profusely, and took their leave at the same time. Faye stood at the top of the steps and watched the pair of them head off along the drive and reflected, once again, upon what a good couple they made. She returned to the dining room where Eddie was now left on his own.
He stood up gingerly and came across to her side.
‘Feel like joining me in a nightcap?’
Mainly as a result of having barely sipped at her hurricane-strength Manhattan, Faye hadn’t actually drunk very much, so, when she saw the label on the bottle he was holding, she agreed. ‘Yes, please, but not a big one.’ Together they walked across to the fireplace and settled down, Eddie opting for the wheelchair.
He produced two huge balloon glasses and slopped a good shot of the very old cognac into them. As he did so, he pointed out the significance of the date on the bottle. ‘1934: the year Anabelle was born. I bought her this a couple of years ago.’ He gave Faye a grin. ‘It wasn’t cheap and I thought she might like to keep it as a souvenir or an investment, but she cracked it open there and then and insisted we both have some. But now, with these new pills she’s on, she no longer drinks the hard stuff, so she’s told me to bring it out on high days and holidays.’
Faye took a sip and sighed appreciatively. Yes, she thought to herself, you can keep all the Manhattans in the world. This stuff is pure nectar. She pushed her nose into the glass and breathed deeply.
‘Like it?’
‘Eddie, it’s amazing. Thank you so much.’
‘You’re very welcome.’ Eddie stretched back in the wheelchair, cradling the glass in his cupped hands.
Faye took another mouthful of cognac and let it trickle slowly down her throat. ‘Eddie, could I ask you a personal question?’ She was quick to qualify what she had said. ‘Not for the book, I promise. Just for me.’ He nodded so she took her courage in both hands. ‘Did you ever marry, Eddie?’
‘No, never. I’ve had a number of relationships over the years, but none really serious that lasted.’
‘So, you’ve never fallen in love?’
He looked up at her, the pale blue eyes twinkling. ‘Oh, I’ve fallen in love all right, Faye.’
She hesitated once more, sensing that her next question was the big one. ‘And would I be right in thinking that the person you fell in love with is somebody who lives here in this chateau?’ There was silence and she waited a few seconds before daring to look up from her glass. He was looking straight at her with a wry smile on his lips.
‘You would be right, Faye. Almost exactly fifty-two years ago. I can remember what she was wearing, what I was doing, and I can even remember the pair of blue jays sitting on the roof of her house at the time.’
‘And it’s lasted all these years?’
He shuffled uncomfortably in the wheelchair before taking another drop of cognac. ‘It hasn’t been easy, Faye.’ His voice was little more than a whisper and Faye had to lean forward to catch his words. ‘Without realizing it, she’s broken my heart more times than I can tell you, but the heart’s a resilient muscle. It never stopped me from loving her.’
‘Even when she married, what, three times?’
‘Even so. Your Mr Shakespeare knew a thing or two about love. He hit the nail on the head when he wrote, “The course of true love never did run smooth”. No fool, Shakespeare.’ He was staring into the depths of the empty fireplace, as if unaware of Faye’s presence. She kept her voice as low as his.
‘And what about her, Eddie? Does she know how you feel? Do you know how she feels?’ She had to wait a long time for an answer.
‘Maybe, maybe not. Who knows? But it doesn’t matter. It won’t change the way I feel about her.’ He turned towards Faye until their eyes met. His expression was more serious
now. ‘Not for the book, okay? You promised.’
Faye nodded. ‘It’s a promise. Definitely not for the book. Thanks, Eddie, I sort of thought I knew the answer already.’
Just then, the door was pushed open and Marlon came trotting into the room, closely followed by Claudette. The dog made a beeline for Faye and, before she could stop him, had put his front paws on her lap and was standing up, trying to lick her face. She leant away, swallowed the last of the cognac in her glass, and set it down on a little table before pushing him back down again. Then she stood up and subjected him to what was intended to be a stern look. ‘You don’t do that to a girl wearing her best frock, Marlon. You should be ashamed of yourself.’
He didn’t look in the least bit ashamed, but he did look as if he would like a walk. Faye turned to Eddie. ‘I think I’ll take our friend here out for a walk. Thanks so much for a wonderful evening and a lovely chat.’
‘Any time, Faye. Any time.’
Chapter Eleven
Next morning Faye was up early and took Marlon out for a quick walk before the heat of the day. She spotted a tractor far away in the distance, but otherwise was quite alone. By now this had become quite normal for her, although at first the lack of noise and company after the bustle of London had been strange. In fact, she was gradually realizing that all was not totally silent here either. Apart from the noises from the sheep in the field, she could also clearly distinguish a number of different bird calls by now.
Obelix had taught her to recognize the whistle of a buzzard, the unusual hoo-hoo-hoo call of the beautiful, if elusive, hoopoe, and the lovely, tuneful song of the little robin. If she listened very carefully, there was the rumble of an occasional train along the branch line in the valley and, of course, there were numerous rustling noises in the undergrowth that weren’t as welcome. But, overall, the result was very soothing and she found herself spending more and more time debating whether she should really consider looking for a little place somewhere in the area where she could settle, once her contract with Miss Beech had finished.
When it came to the question of what to do if she did opt to stay on here, she was coming round to thinking that she might be able to find some more teaching work, which would help pay the bills while letting her concentrate on writing her next book. Her only regret, over the past weeks that she had been here, was that she hadn’t had any opportunity to write her own stuff. With the big payout she would receive at the end of her contract, plus a bit of teaching work, she felt pretty sure she could quite feasibly fund herself for a number of years if she was careful. She kept on turning it over in her head.
***
A very posh silver limousine arrived from Switzerland on Sunday afternoon to take Eddie off for his operation. They all bade him farewell and wished him a speedy recovery, and Faye couldn’t miss the fact that Miss Beech was quite emotional to see him go.
In the course of their chats together over the next few days, Faye came close to bringing up the subject of what feelings Miss Beech might or might not harbour towards Eddie, but each time she chickened out. The actress was her employer, after all, and if she wanted to talk about Eddie and how she felt about him, it was up to her. Certainly, when the news came through in the week that the operation had been successfully performed and then Eddie himself phoned to speak to Miss Beech, Faye immediately saw that she perked up remarkably.
During the days that followed, Faye didn’t see Gavin. Presumably now that the lavender harvest was over, he was occupied somewhere else on the farm. She did, however, see Dominique. It was shortly before lunchtime and Faye had just come out of the boulangerie with her regular loaf of bread. Faye was untying Marlon’s lead from the ring on the wall when she spotted Dominique pushing Elise’s buggy along the street under the shade of the trees.
‘Hi, Dominique. Hello, Elise, are you going to buy some bread?’
The little girl nodded and answered, and this time Faye didn’t need the services of her mum as interpreter. ‘Bread.’ The French word was “pain” and she pronounced it with the typical Provençal twang, “peng”, sounding just like her mother.
‘That’s right, mon petit amour, Faye’s been buying bread as well.’ Dominique beamed at both of them. ‘Hi, Faye. Elise is learning more and more words. Every day she gets more fluent. Anyway, are you sure it’s all right for me to join the English class?’
‘Absolutely. Next lesson’s on Tuesday at eight or nine, depending on your level. I should give you an interview first, to work that out.’
Dominique laughed and shook her head. ‘Don’t waste your time. Just put me in the bottom class. I know my place.’
‘Well, if you’re sure. Anyway, we can always bump you up to the higher level if it turns out you’re just being modest.’
‘Trust me, this isn’t modesty. It’s the sad truth. I’m rubbish at languages.’
‘We’ll see. All right, come at eight o’clock on Tuesday.’
‘Great. So, tell me, Faye, how did you get so good at French, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘I did French at university and I’ve been teaching it. Then I was going out with a Frenchman for a few years back in London, but that finished a few months ago.’
‘And you and he spoke French together?’ Faye nodded and Dominique smiled. ‘Ah, so that’s what it was.’
‘These men have their uses.’ Faye grinned back at her, delighted to find she could now talk about Didier without her hackles coming up.
‘And since then, no men on the horizon? Surely there must be; you’re very pretty.’
Faye shook her head. ‘No, there’s nobody at the moment, unless you count Marlon the Labrador. And that’s the way I want it.’ She shook her head decisively. ‘I’m very happy on my own.’ As she spoke, she reflected that as far as Didier was concerned, she could honestly say she was thinking about him less and less. ‘But I haven’t got that much time anyway, what with the book and the teaching.’ She decided to change the subject. ‘So, what’s happening at the farm these days?’
‘Oh, the usual. Gavin’s been busy with the vines and soon it’ll be time for the grape harvest. I’m already beginning to get things ready for the annual Fête du Vin that takes place in October. This year it’s going to be in our big barn again. We haven’t done it for a couple of years and it’ll be fun to host it again. You’ll have to come along. There’ll be dancing, loads of food and, of course, wine.’
‘That sounds brilliant, and I’m very happy to help out with anything if I’m needed. Just say the word. By the way, Miss Beech was only telling me the other day to remind you and Elise you’re very welcome to come up and use the pool. The water’s a fantastic temperature at the moment: not too warm, not too cold.’
‘That’s really kind.’ Dominique bent down towards the buggy. ‘Elise, chérie, would you like to go swimming one of these days?’ The little girl gave a happy squeak and Dominique looked up at Faye. ‘Although we’re only an hour from the coast, we rarely go down there – it gets so crowded in August. Now, let’s see, what day are we today? It’s Friday, isn’t it? We’re going to be tied up tomorrow and most of Sunday, but how about Monday? What’s a good time for you?’
‘Any time in the afternoon. Say, three o’clock? And then you can come up to my flat for a cup of tea afterwards. And bring Gavin with you if you can persuade him to stop working for a couple of hours.’
‘I’ll try, but you know how he is. Anyway, that sounds great. Thank you so much. We’ll see you then. Elise, say thank you to Faye.’
‘Merci, Faye.’ This, too, was perfectly understandable and Faye gave her a big smile.
Faye and Marlon walked back up to the chateau and just as they got there, a silver ambulance with Swiss plates purred up the drive behind them. Unsurprisingly, Marlon decided to subject it to a volley of barking and Faye had to crouch down and clutch him in her arms to calm him. ‘It’s all right, Marlon, it’s Eddie.’ The dog reluctantly agreed to stop barking, but sat there growling at the
two uniformed orderlies who rather apprehensively climbed out of the cab and came round to open the rear doors. They rolled out a bed and on it was Eddie. Seeing Faye, he raised his hand in greeting.
‘Hi, Faye, good to see you. And I couldn’t miss the welcome from Marlon.’ As he recognized who was in the bed, Marlon transformed instantaneously from guard dog to devoted fan. The growls turned to whines, and his tail beat so hard against Faye’s thigh, she had to move out of the way. She stood up, still hanging onto the dog’s lead in case he decided to climb up there with Eddie.
‘Hi, Eddie. How’re you feeling?’
‘Glad to be home. How’re you? How’s the book going?’
Faye assured him that everything was fine and then left the ambulance men to deliver him safely back to Miss Beech. Faye felt sure it would be an emotional reunion and she didn’t want to get in the way. She went round to the courtyard and up to her flat, letting Marlon come upstairs with her. He headed straight for the water bowl on the kitchen floor and drank long and deeply. Faye made herself a sandwich with the wonderful fresh bread and then settled down at the computer for a few hours, while the dog collapsed onto the tiled floor at her feet and was soon dreaming happily of bunny rabbits and prawns.
Her next appointment with Miss Beech was set for half past three, but Faye wondered if Eddie’s return might mean that this would be delayed or cancelled. It didn’t matter either way. She had got more than enough material for the moment and was moving on rapidly through the Sixties, the heyday of the actress’s career, when the list of her co-stars read like a Who’s Who of Hollywood greats. When mid-afternoon came, she closed her laptop and stood up.
She glanced down at the dog at her feet and noticed something white beside his head. On closer inspection this turned out to be a bra, presumably purloined from her laundry basket. How and when he had stolen it without her noticing was a mystery and attested to just how engrossed she had been in her work. With a bit of biscuit bribery, she persuaded the dog to relinquish his prize and she returned it to her bedroom.