His eyes open and he looks at me in surprise, then he drags himself upright and I know we can’t put it off any longer. He sits on the step and shakes his hair out, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. ‘Call me if you need anything. If you get stuck, ring me and I’ll help. I promise I’ll answer my phone.’
‘I’m sure I’ll be fine.’
‘I’ll take the trees next Saturday. If you see the plant seller, could you tell him what happened and say I’ll catch him next week?’
Next week when I won’t be here. Just the thought of it makes something in my chest clench.
‘He speaks good English, he’ll understand.’
‘Yeah, sure.’
‘Okay,’ he says like he’s trying to gear himself up, but he stays sitting there, side on now, facing me. ‘I don’t want to go, you know. I didn’t want it to end like this.’
‘It’s four days. It doesn’t make a difference,’ I say, even though it does and I don’t know why.
‘Yeah, it does.’ He sighs. ‘I was going to drive you home, see where you live, where Eulalie lived. See the difference.’
‘It’s a big bloody difference,’ I mutter, hating the idea of him seeing the hell hole I live in. ‘And you weren’t going to do that, you’ve already told me how much fuel your car uses.’
‘Would’ve been worth it for a few extra hours.’
The tears I’ve been trying to hold back burst out. ‘Sorry.’ I flap a hand in front of my face and get up, turning away from him to scrub at my eyes. I wasn’t meant to cry in front of him. I wasn’t meant to cry over him leaving when I’ll be doing the same in a few days.
‘Don’t worry, I get it,’ he says, his voice sounding hoarse and thick. He picks up the paper bag and peeks inside it. ‘I can’t believe you made me a picnic.’
‘Someone’s gotta feed you, may as well do it for as long as possible.’
‘Thank you.’
I shake my head, still trying to wipe away tears.
He takes the bag and goes down the steps to put it in the car, and I know I have to follow him. We’re going to stand here putting it off all day at this rate.
I swallow hard and force myself to speak without crying. ‘You should go. You’re going to be trying to find your hotel in London in the dark at this rate.’
‘Yeah, I know. I just…’ He sighs.
I kick at the gravel because I’ll cry again if I look at him.
‘Will you be okay here on your own?’
‘Yeah,’ I say, even though the idea is terrifying and I don’t know why. Coming home after the market tomorrow, alone. No one to cook tea for. No one to steal uncooked cake batter while I’m working. ‘Just don’t know how I’ll manage to sleep without you snoring next to me like a hippo with a cold.’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘We both know I’d have moved rooms ages ago if you didn’t want me there. And I don’t snore.’
He does, but it’s kind of adorable. The bed is going to feel so empty without him, and not in a good way.
‘Keep the gate locked on the moat bridge so no one can drive in, okay? And don’t answer the door to any strangers, and call the police if you see anything or anyone suspicious lurking around, and call me if you get worried about anything. Anything at all. I’ll always answer my phone to you.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’
He laughs and pokes his tongue out at me. ‘You’ve just made me a packed lunch. You have no legs to stand on when it comes to being overprotective.’
I can’t help smiling at him, but I know it’s tinged with sadness because I have no idea when I’m going to see him again.
‘I should…’ He points at the car.
I nod.
He opens his arms and when I step closer, bends down and slides his arms around my waist, lifting me up. I loop mine around his neck and squeeze him as tight as I possibly can, just holding on, enjoying his closeness and the way his body is pressed against mine, the smell of his aftershave all around me, feeling safe in his grip even though my feet are off the floor.
He doesn’t let go when he stands me back down, just holds on impossibly tighter, his hands splayed across my back, burying his face in my hair.
I’d give up cake not to have to let him go.
It’s one of the best feelings in the world when I go to pull away and Jules clings on tighter. I squeeze him again and hide my face in his neck, wondering if there’s a world record for hugging and if we’re anywhere close to beating it. Maybe this is the answer – just cling on to him and not let go. He’d have to stay then. So would I.
There are tears running down my face when we eventually pull back. I turn away to wipe them but it’s pointless because the sound of the car door shutting behind him makes my eyes fill up again.
I give up trying to hide it. He knows I’m crying by now.
‘Jules, listen…’ I say when I turn around, hating the sight of him in his car. He doesn’t belong in a car, he belongs up to his elbows in mud in the orchard. ‘Thanks for all the things you’ve done, all the things you’ve fixed and helping me with French and getting Kat and Theo together…’ I trail off because it suddenly seems impossible to thank him for everything he’s done. He hasn’t stopped working since he got here. Nothing would’ve been the same without him. Nothing would’ve worked without him.
‘You have nothing to thank me for. Thanks for all the cooking and…’ He looks down and swallows hard. ‘You’re the first person I’ve ever not had to hide with, and there are no words I can say to tell you how much that means.’
‘Jules…’
He shakes his head. ‘It’s been the best summer of my life. If I could stop it ending, I would.’
I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak. He starts the engine and I stand back. ‘Text me when you get there safely, all right?’
He looks up and grins at me. ‘Yes, Mum.’
‘It’s a long drive, don’t tell me not to worry about you.’
He smiles as he starts reversing. ‘I’ll see you soon, all right?’
My eyes fill up again as I watch him backing up across the bridge over the moat. It’s the first time since I got here that his car has been missing from the courtyard and it looks ridiculously empty. Too empty.
I shake myself and trudge up the steps, stopping at the top and watching him reverse to the very end of our own personal runway. He’s about to turn out on to the road when he stops.
I wave, although he’s too far away for me to tell if he can see me. I can hear the car engine running but he doesn’t move. Maybe he’s waiting for something to pass on the road. He stays still for a few minutes, enough time that I’m starting to wonder if I should walk out and check he’s okay, but if he sees me coming, he’ll wait and then we’ll have to go through another goodbye, and…
The car moves in the wrong direction as he starts back down the driveway towards me. What’s he doing?
I stay at the top of the steps until he pulls into the same space he just pulled out of, watching fondly as he gets out of the car, picks up his bag of lunch, and slams the door behind him.
‘What’d you forget?’ I ask as he comes up the steps, his key fob beeping as he locks the car up over his shoulder.
‘I forgot that I don’t want to go.’
‘What?’
He stands in front of me and reaches out to give my hand a squeeze. ‘I don’t want to go. I don’t want to be back there. I don’t want to leave here. I want to do the market with you tomorrow.’
Goosebumps break out across my entire body at the look in his eyes, intense blue, bright with burning conviction. ‘What about the photoshoot?’
‘Fuck the photoshoot.’
‘Jules…’
‘Will you give me a hug before I have a breakdown here?’
He doesn’t need to tell me twice. I pull him down and wrap my arms around him so his head rests on my shoulder, carding a hand through his hair again until I fe
el him start to relax.
‘What’s going on?’ I ask gently after we’ve been silent for a few long minutes.
He shakes his head against my shoulder and I squeeze him tighter. I don’t mind how long we stand there hugging in silence.
‘I got the voicemails,’ Jules says eventually, muffled into my shoulder.
‘What?’
‘All the voicemails and emails and texts and missed phone calls from Kinzi and my bosses at Masters. I got them. And I ignored them because I wanted an excuse to miss the shoot.’ He pulls away and runs a hand through his hair. ‘And I got to the end of that driveway and I couldn’t fucking breathe. It was like a vice clamped around my chest the further I got into the distance, and I just thought, why do I need an excuse? I don’t want to go, end of story.’
‘But it’s the biggest shoot of your career. Your face is going to be in tube stations, Jules.’
He shakes his head. ‘I don’t want my face in tube stations. I don’t want people examining my abs on their commute to work every day. I want to stay here and eat camembert and drink Calvados with you, and not worry if I put on a millimetre of fat. I don’t want to keep pretending to be twenty-seven. I’ve got grey hairs in my beard, for God’s sake, they know I’m not twenty-seven.’
He’s pacing in front of the door and I reach out and grab his hand. ‘What about all the other jobs it will lead to? What about your car payments and your dad’s care home fees?’
‘The only reason my father can’t pay his own fees is because he drank away every bit of money he had and still does. I can’t stop him and I never could. The nurses there can’t stop him. Why should he be my responsibility if he won’t help himself?’
I get the feeling he’s talking to himself more than to me.
‘The best thing I could do with the car is drive it off a cliff. But seeing as I won’t be zipping up and down the country to jobs, I can use what it usually eats in bloody diesel to pay it off.’
‘What about…’ I struggle with what to say. This plan seems so flawed, and yet, there’s energy bubbling inside me because he’s brave enough to do this. ‘Are you going to get in trouble? I mean, they’re not going to sue you for breach of contract or anything, are they?’
He shakes his head. ‘Kinzi will kill me, but she’s got an agency full of gorgeous young guys who will fall over themselves for this job. She’ll have twenty other models for my bosses to choose from before lunchtime. I’m easily replaceable.’
‘No, you’re not.’
He grins at me. ‘See? This is why I can’t leave. You’re the only person who’s made me feel worth anything in years. I don’t care if we’ve only got four days. No amount of money is worth more.’
Tears fill my eyes again. Jules is strong and unshakeable. If even he can’t leave, how the hell am I going to manage it on Tuesday? ‘What about…’ I start again. This is all so ridiculous. He can’t just give up his entire career on a whim. ‘Will you get other jobs?’
‘Not in modelling. Kinzi will blacklist me.’
‘Then what are you going to do?’
He beckons me towards him with a finger and walks back down the steps. I follow him across the courtyard to the corner of the house, where he drops an arm around my shoulders and uses his other arm to point into the distance. ‘See that patch of land? That’s an allotment. Whoever gardened here before has already dug it into raised beds with paths between them, there are spikes in the ground to hold fleece in winter, and fences up to keep the deer out. That’s our land. I have an allotment in my back garden. In Glasgow, I don’t even have a garden. I can grow whatever I like here and I bet I’ll find someone willing to take the finished produce off my hands, like the plant seller with the chestnut trees.’
‘You can’t live on fifty euros.’
‘You can if you sell more to more people. Le Château de Châtaignier is famous around here. People still remember Eulalie and her husband. They know this place. The villagers used to come here, we know that from the photos. Look at the amount of people who came to talk to us last week because of the sign I put up. People will buy fruit and veg because of our name, because of whatever legacy Eulalie left in this village that I don’t quite understand yet.’
‘But growing stuff is… Seasonal? Crazy? Surely you’re not the only farmer trying to sell fruit and veg around here? Look at all those guys in the market. They might seem nice but it must be a competitive business.’
‘We’ll manage.’
‘Jules… It can’t be “we”. I have a job. I can’t leave it on a whim. No, it doesn’t make me excited or scared but it pays the bills. I’ve been without a job because of my own stupidity before and it was the worst time of my life. I can’t risk that again.’
‘I know.’ He squeezes my shoulders. ‘And that’s your decision, and I can’t influence it. Although I could say you hate your job, and you hate your flat, and I could mention that you love baking and this could be an opportunity to do it for real, and I could mention Eulalie and how much she wanted you to come here…’
‘But you wouldn’t because that would be wrong, right?’
‘Yeah, definitely. I’d never do a thing like that.’
I elbow him in the ribs.
‘I know I’m insane, all right? But this isn’t just a whim. I’ve been thinking about it since the moment I laid eyes on the place. The growing season is longer here and the climate is better. It’s viable.’ He turns us around and points back up the driveway. ‘And I also know that leaving somewhere shouldn’t be this hard. I’m not saying I think Eulalie’s right about the magical walls, but since I got here, I’ve been feeling like I’m supposed to be here. That’s something I’ve never felt before, and maybe the fact that leaving was so difficult is… something’s… way of telling me I shouldn’t.’
He’s got a point. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m where I’m meant to be. I feel content here. Safe. The only cloud that’s been hanging over my head is knowing I have to leave.
‘All I know is that I would rather struggle and graft and barely get by for years than do something that feels as wrong as pulling out of that driveway did,’ Jules says.
I lean up and hug him again. I should kiss him. I want to kiss him, but how can I kiss him when I leave in four days? ‘I’m glad you came back,’ I say instead.
When we get back to the top of the steps, Jules picks up the picnic bag and shakes it in my direction. ‘Well, I’m going to phone Kinzi and let her fire me, and then I’m going to eat this in the garden with a cup of tea. Care to join me?’
‘I’ll make the tea while you make the phone call.’
He gives me a wide grin and disappears inside the house, and I turn around and look out over the expanse of land spread in front of me. Julian’s car in the courtyard looking like it was meant to be there. The feeling of home and warmth I get from the house, even though it’s draughty from the cracked windows and hot water is still a thing of myth. So much land that holds so much potential to him. I wish I could be as positive as Jules. I wish I could take that kind of risk too.
I wish I was as brave as him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kat squeals in delight when she sees Julian’s car in the courtyard, even though it’s so early that it’s still dark and she’s only come over at this time of day because he was leaving. ‘One down, one to go!’
‘I’m not staying, Kat,’ I say. ‘What he does is up to him. It doesn’t change my plans.’
‘Of course it does. You’re head over heels in love with the man.’
I choke on my own breath. ‘I’m not bloody in love with him.’
‘You haven’t called him a git in over two weeks.’
‘If that’s your criteria for love…’ I should call him a git now to prove my point, but I can’t bring myself to say it. ‘I haven’t ever called Mr Adelais a git but that doesn’t mean I’m about to shack up with him and have his babies. Well, lambs,
in his case.’
‘There’s this theory that when people are in love, they glow. When the pair of you are together, you’re like sodding fireflies with glowsticks and glow-in-the-dark body paint.’
‘Oh, you can talk with your French butter man,’ I say. ‘At least I can understand a word Julian says.’
A sappy look crosses her face. ‘Theo and I are getting there. He met me at the end of my round yesterday and brought me a cup of tea, and he managed to tell me it was tea in perfect English. Of course, I haven’t got a clue what it was because it wasn’t actually tea, but you know, baby steps.’
We start loading up the cart. ‘How did you do it?’ I ask without realising I’m going to ask. ‘Come out here with nothing, I mean?’
‘I just loved the place. I didn’t want to go back. My job was safe and well-paid and it didn’t require much effort, but I realised I’d rather work hard doing something I wanted to do than have easy days doing something I didn’t care about. I worked in one of the big bakery chains that sell the same products in all their stores. You can’t be creative. You just have to cook the same frozen, batch-produced rubbish they ship out to all their shops.’
‘But it was a massive risk.’
She shrugs. ‘Some risks are worth taking. Even if it had gone tits-up, I wouldn’t have lost anything but a job I didn’t like anyway. If I had to go back to England with my tail between my legs, the worst that would’ve happened was finding a new job and moving back in with my parents until I got settled. I know your parents aren’t alive, but…’ She points towards the gardens where Julian’s gathering up tree saplings. ‘You have him. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to let this go tits-up.’
‘Oh, please. He can’t even feed himself, let alone stop this whole thing falling apart.’
‘Then he needs you here to take care of him, doesn’t he?’
I narrow my eyes at her, but she ignores me. ‘If you were going to stay, we could do the market stall between us. Twice a week instead of once, as a proper business arrangement, half the fees between us, half the profits each.’
The Chateau of Happily-Ever-Afters Page 28