When I reached him, he took my mouth in a heated kiss, and with a flick of his fingers, the towels dropped to the floor. One light push and I was on the bed, Alain hovering above me.
‘Will you be murmuring endearments in French again?’ I enquired.
‘Do I do that?’
‘You do. And let me tell you, for a girl from Birmingham, it’s very sexy.’
‘Alors, ma chérie.’ I shivered with pleasure as he nuzzled my neck. ‘Mon petit chou-fleur.’ He moved to the pulse in my throat. ‘Ma jolie artichaut.’
‘Did you just call me a cauliflower? And maybe even an artichoke?’
‘You said it turns you on when I speak French. You didn’t specify what kind of French.’
I laughed and slapped at him. ‘Do it properly, or I won’t play.’
And he did. So I did.
This was one way of learning French that I had no objection to.
* * *
We sat outside in the cooling evening breeze with a lazy pizza and salad.
‘Can you stay over?’
‘Not tonight. You know, the first of the Thomson party are arriving tomorrow and I need everything to be in order. And I don’t trust Gloria. I... I feel like I need to keep an eye on Rupert.’
He nodded his understanding. ‘You should take every Sunday off. I know your hours are fluid, but it’s not unreasonable to have one day a week to yourself. There’s so much we can do together. Châteaux, all that sightseeing stuff. It’s busy at this time of year, but it would all be good to put on your website.’
I smiled at his tactic of appealing to my business goals as a way of getting some downtime with me, but it wasn’t as simple as that. ‘Sounds great, but making plans like that at the moment...’
He rolled his eyes. ‘You’re back to worrying about Gloria.’
‘Yeah. It’s unsettling enough moving to a new country and starting a new job and a new relationship without it all turning upside-down just a few weeks in.’
‘I can’t believe he’d give it all up for her.’
‘She’s his wife. He chose to marry her, to spend his life with her. In the long run, that might mean more to him than bricks and mortar.’
‘La Cour des Roses is more than bricks and mortar. It’s what defines Rupert, almost.’
‘I know. But maybe Gloria means more to him.’
Alain curled his lip. ‘If she finds a better option, she’ll be off again, and then where will he be?’
‘But that’s his decision to make.’
‘What will you do if Gloria stays?’
I would have the rug swept out from under me. No job. Nowhere to live. The thoughts I’d managed to push to the back of my mind ever since I’d spoken to Rupert that morning poured out in a torrent.
‘I’d have no salary, Alain. We have no tenants in Birmingham. My business is making progress, but it’s not live yet, and there won’t be any income for a while.’ I sighed. ‘I’m wondering whether I should put it on hold for now. There’s no point in getting people on board for something that might never happen.’
His expression was one of shock. ‘Are you... Are you saying you might go back to England if Gloria stays?’
‘I’m saying I don’t know.’
He looked at me for a long time. ‘But I only just found you.’ A frown. ‘I thought you had savings?’
‘I do, but my grandmother left me the money, and I really hadn’t wanted to use it for something like this.’
‘May I ask why?’
‘Because she didn’t leave me it to squander on a flat I’m not even living in!’
‘Are you sure about that?’ He looked at me in a considered way. ‘Tell me about your grandmother.’
I smiled and remembered Gran: reading to me sitting on her lap; striding through mud in wellies ahead of us all; bringing me a hot water bottle and talking me through my first heartbreak. ‘My dad’s mum. I loved her to bits, and the feeling was mutual. She was unfailingly encouraging – never put me down or laughed at my ideas, even if it was something daft like wanting to be a model or a surgeon. She would just listen quietly and give a considered opinion.’ My voice hitched. ‘She told me all she wanted was for me to be healthy and happy; that money was all very well, but it was nothing compared to those things. She wanted me to find a nice man who would care for me. Thank God she never met Nathan. But I think she would have liked you.’
Alain squeezed my hand. ‘How old were you when she died?’
‘Twenty-two. It was awful, Alain. She just withered away from cancer. I remember her lying there, so thin and frail, saying she would rather have had a quick heart attack and be done with it.’ A tear rolled down my face. ‘A couple of weeks before she died, she told me she was leaving me a little money for a rainy day.’
‘Do you think she would class this as a rainy day?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘What would she have said about you coming to France?’
‘She would have told me to go for it.’
‘And if you could ask her whether she would rather you went home with your tail between your legs, job hunting and living with your parents like a twenty-year-old, or persevered with your dreams by using some of the money she left you, what do you think she would say to that?’
‘I... I think she would want me to use it.’
Alain’s face was still tense. I liked it so much better when he was relaxed, his lips curved, the smile lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes. He stood and ran his hands across my back, finding the knots and kneading gently at them with his thumbs, then smoothing over the sore spots. ‘Don’t go, Emmy. If Gloria gets her way? Don’t go.’
* * *
‘Did you have a good afternoon off?’ Rupert asked me the next morning as he scrubbed burnt eggs from a pan at the sink. That worried me. Rupert never burned eggs.
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘Then you should do it more often. It’s put a bit of colour in your cheeks.’ He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
‘That would be the cycling.’
‘Cycling? Are you into that kind of thing?’
‘Not since I was ten,’ I admitted. ‘But I enjoyed it. Are you okay?’
‘Hmmph.’ He lowered his voice. ‘My back’s getting worse. That sofa is not comfortable, Emmy.’
‘I know. But I’m proud of you.’
He looked away.
‘Rupert, I know you’ve had bigger things to worry about, but you do know the first of the Thomsons are arriving tonight?’
He nodded. ‘We’ve covered everything we can, Emmy.’
‘What’s all this whispering, you two?’ Gloria came over, having driven Marcus and James away with her expertise on the possibilities for retail therapy in the area.
‘Nothing important.’ Rupert scuttled outside to feed leftovers to the birds.
‘Take a lot of time off, do you, Emmy?’
I took a deep breath. ‘Firstly, Gloria, my hours are fluid. Nobody complains when I’m washing dishes at midnight or doing laundry at weekends, so the occasional late start is hardly an issue. Secondly, and more importantly, you are not my employer. I take orders from Rupert, not you.’
‘Not for much longer. If you haven’t noticed, I’m back.’
‘Yes, you are. And if you ask me, you’re also counting your chickens. Excuse me. I have work to do.’
But Gloria didn’t take the hint. ‘I see you altered the lounge.’
‘Yes. It was unwelcoming. Nobody ever went in it.’
‘And you think a few cushions and throws will make a difference?’
‘They already have. Several people have actually set foot in there this week.’ This was true, and I couldn’t be more pleased. ‘I have further plans, but it’ll do for now.’
‘Why on earth have you got decorators in at this time of year?’ She gestured at the van out in the courtyard.
‘There was some damage. It wouldn’t wait, and we had a few days’ leeway.’ I certain
ly didn’t want to get into the Thomson booking with her at this stage.
‘Hmm. Enjoy your evening at your boring accountant’s, did you?’
‘Yes, I did. Very much. Thank you.’
Gloria lounged against the patio doors, watching me up to my elbows in the sink with eggy skillets and grill pans.
‘Feel free to muck in any time, Gloria, if you’re at a loose end,’ I snapped before I could stop myself.
‘You’re paid. I’m not,’ she said. ‘I’m not here to work. I’m here to spend time with my husband. I don’t see how scrubbing pans will assist a reconciliation, do you?’
Luckily, she flounced off before I could open my mouth.
As I went around the outside of the house to my room to fetch my bag for going into town, I found Ryan dragging his stuff from the boot of his estate car.
‘Hi. Is the wicked witch still...?’
‘Yes. She is still, I’m afraid.’
Alain’s blue hatchback pulled into the courtyard, making me frown.
He climbed out. ‘Emmy. You left your mobile last night.’
‘Did I? I hadn’t even noticed!’ I took it from him. ‘I think I’m going senile with everything that’s going on around here. Thanks.’
Ryan came over to shake hands with him. ‘Gloria tends to have that effect on people. Morning, Alain. How was your trip?’
They chatted for a few minutes, while a growing sense of unease crept over me. I hadn’t thought about my ex-lover and my current lover being on such friendly terms before – or how that would make me feel. I had no regrets about my fling with Ryan... but Alain didn’t know about it, and the whole thing made me a little antsy. When Alain set off back to work, I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
Madame Dupont arrived as Rupert and I were about to leave for Pierre-la-Fontaine. She must have spotted Gloria’s car in the courtyard, because she looked at me askance when she walked in, and made no bones about how she felt. Greeting Gloria with a minimum of politeness, she wished her a pleasant stay, then crooked her finger, beckoning me to follow her upstairs.
In the first room she found empty, she shut the door and rounded on me, her wiry little body stiff with outrage.
‘What is that terrible woman doing here? She isn’t staying, is she? Rupert won’t permit her to come back, will he?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted.
‘Mon Dieu!’ She sank down on the edge of the bed. Gloria’s reappearance seemed to have the same unfortunate effect on everyone.
I battled through a fairly appalling French version of Gloria’s arrival on Saturday, then took her hand and gently squeezed. ‘Don’t worry, Madame Dupont. Rupert isn’t stupid.’
‘Ha! He is stupid when it comes to that woman!’
14
Jonathan seemed to be of the same opinion as Madame Dupont when we met him at the café. The market had been hard going: Rupert was distracted and we were hampered by the dog. We’d never brought her with us before, but I assumed he hadn’t wanted to leave her at La Cour des Roses with a wicked animal hater.
Bob was with Jonathan, and when she’d greeted them both, Jonathan held her close to his leg, fondling her head and ears whenever she nudged at his hand. We sat out on the terrace with her, lucky enough to grab a table under the awning, and my mind wandered back to Ryan and Alain. Would Alain be upset if he knew about Ryan? Should I tell him? I wished he’d known from the start, so I didn’t have to worry about it or make a decision.
The café owner brought the dog a bowl of water along with our coffees, and I shook myself out of it.
When Rupert told them about Gloria’s return, Jonathan didn’t mince his words. ‘I can’t believe she came back! Of all the cheek! She just waltzed in and expects you to take her back?’ His onslaught turned into a coughing fit.
‘In a nutshell.’
‘And will you?’ It was obvious from Jonathan’s tone of voice that he hoped for better from his friend.
‘Don’t know yet.’
Bob studied Rupert in his understated way. ‘And what does she think of this beauty?’ He indicated the dog.
Rupert’s expression was downcast. ‘She hates her.’
The dog gave a pitiful whine and pushed closer into Jonathan’s hand.
I decided it was best to change the subject. ‘Bob, did you take those photos of La Cour des Roses that Rupert sent me when I was updating his website?’
Rupert laughed. ‘He did indeed. I tried myself, but then Bob brought Jonathan round for a beer and I thought what the hell am I playing at? I’m friends with a freelance photographer. Might as well get the job done properly. Bob wouldn’t charge me for them, silly sod. Said he’d drunk me out of house and home over the years and intended to continue doing so.’
Bob grinned. No wonder he appeared to be wearing the same jeans he must’ve been wearing twenty years ago. The only thing new and shiny about him was his motorbike.
‘Do you take other photos, besides those for Ellie and Philippe?’
‘I do some landscape photography. I have a website, but I can’t say I sell much from it. Sometimes I take a stall in market towns in the summer, selling mounted photos to tourists.’
‘Hmm.’
‘And there it goes again,’ Rupert muttered. ‘I can hear the whirring when your brain takes off on a spin cycle, Emmy. What are you thinking?’
‘How to fix the Silver Fox’s criticism of dreary pictures on the walls. Why not get Bob to do you some framed photos for the hall and lounge, instead of those boring prints?’ I turned to Bob. ‘We’d pay, of course.’
Bob raised an eyebrow at Rupert. ‘Spending your money freely, isn’t she?’
‘But,’ I went on, ‘I was wondering if you’d be willing to provide some for free – one for each bedroom and gîte.’
‘And why would he do that?’ Rupert demanded to know.
‘We could tuck his business card in the corner of each. We get a professional regional photo in each room, and Bob gets to show off his wares to a targeted audience without lifting a finger.’ I turned to Bob. ‘You could leave a portfolio in the guest lounge, too, with a price list in the back. Holidaymakers falling in love with the region might want to purchase a memento.’
Bob exchanged a look with Rupert. ‘Is she always this bossy?’
‘Always,’ Rupert said with a resigned expression, making everyone laugh – although Jonathan’s turned into a cough again.
‘Where has that cough come from?’ I asked him.
‘Had it a couple of days,’ Jonathan mumbled. ‘Nothing to worry about. It’ll go.’
Bob gave me an encouraging smile and jerked a thumb at Jonathan, who had been looking fit to bust throughout the change of subject. ‘Perhaps we can discuss landscapes between us, and leave those two to battle it out over Gloria’s merits or otherwise.’
Ten minutes later, Rupert looked a little shaken. No doubt Jonathan had given him some not-so-tactful advice regarding Gloria. He stood, ready to go.
‘Emmy, there’s a Scottish couple with a holiday home a couple of miles from me,’ Bob said as I finished my coffee. ‘I bump into them sometimes in the next village. I told them about your agency and they said they’d love to try it. They’re not getting enough business through the one they use.’
‘That sounds promising. Do I need to contact them?’
‘They’re going to Scotland for a couple of weeks, but they’ll let me know when they get back.’
‘Thanks. Oh!’ I delved into one of the bags for the bunch of leaflets I’d collected from the printer. ‘Could you give them one of these when you see them?’
‘Give me a few. You never know.’
‘Can you still come round later this week?’ Jonathan asked me. ‘Or have you got too much on?’
‘You mean would I rather scrub every inch of your bathroom and toilet with a toothbrush or would I rather spend quality time with Gloria?’
Jonathan smiled. ‘Does tomorrow suit?’
As we he
aded back down to the main square, Rupert kept glancing around in a furtive manner.
‘What are you looking for?’ I asked him, trying not to trip over Gloria as she wound between our legs, sniffing at the sausages in the bags, undeterred by Rupert’s admonishments.
‘Nothing, Emmy. Nothing at all... Oh, now, look there.’ He lifted a hand in greeting and went over to the café by the fountain.
‘Monsieur le Maire! Vous allez bien?’ he asked, greeting a man, forty-something and definitely on the handsome side, vacating a table. ‘Emmy, I’d like you to meet the mayor of Pierre-la-Fontaine, Patrice Renaud. Patrice, this is Emmy Jamieson, my manager.’
‘Enchanté. How do you like your new home and our town?’
All this in French, of course.
I took a deep breath and did my best. ‘I love Pierre-la-Fontaine and La Cour des Roses, thank you.’
‘I hope Monsieur Hunter is not making you work too hard?’
I smiled, lifting my bags to illustrate. ‘Monsieur Hunter has no choice, but that means business is good.’
‘Emmy has plans to set up her own business,’ Rupert chipped in, much to my annoyance.
‘Oh? What kind of business?’
Oh dear. My French wasn’t up to that kind of discussion. But Rupert came to my rescue, giving a brief outline that I could follow, even if I couldn’t have said it myself.
‘I would be happy to see you succeed in something that brings visitors and business to the town,’ Monsieur Renaud declared. ‘If you need any help or information about how to proceed, please let me know. I spend half my life in there.’ He jerked a thumb at the town hall behind us. ‘Do you know Alain Granger, the accountant?’
Rupert smothered a smirk.
‘Yes, I do.’
‘That’s good. He will look after you with all the forms you need. I have a couple of gîtes on the outskirts of town myself. Perhaps when you are properly set up, you could get in touch?’
I smiled. ‘Of course. It’s nice to meet you.’
‘You, too.’
‘What was all that about?’ I demanded of Rupert as we went to the car.
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