Poppy's Place in the Sun

by Lorraine Wilson

  “What did he want?”

  When I look up Leo’s dark eyes are inscrutable and shuttered, like they were the first day we met.

  “He wanted to get back together with me,” I reply coolly.

  “And you said?”

  “I told him to fuck off,” I stare at Leo hard. “I told him I already had a boyfriend. At least I think I already have a boyfriend. Do I Leo?”

  “Of course.” Leo’s stony face softens and his eyes are readable again.

  I only just manage to stop myself from asking Leo whether he loves me or not as I’m still pissed off with Pete and the paparazzi and whoever let the donkeys out this morning and I’m capable of adding “because if you don’t love me you can fuck off too” to Leo.

  And I might be mad angry but I’m not mad insane. Now is not the time to let words fly, filter-free, out of my mouth.

  Leo moves closer and pulls me into a hug. Then he kisses me so passionately I have to shut up and some of the pent-up tension leaves my body.

  “Come to the meal. Everyone is asking where you are.” Leo holds me, stroking my back.

  “What about the paparazzi?”

  Leo smiles. “The local hunters got their guns out and let loose a few rounds in the woods then walked menacingly towards the reporters talking about hunting accidents. It was actually quite funny how quickly they fled for their cars.”

  “And Joanna?”

  “She’s staying at the chateau with my parents for a few days. We’ve been discussing what to do and I think she’s decided to give an exclusive interview to one paper to get the others off her back.”

  “So she’s not going to leave?” I exhale loudly.

  “No. No one’s going anywhere. Except us, now, to the Marquee for something to eat.” Leo takes my hand and we interlink our fingers.

  Us.

  I exhale again, properly for the first time all day.

  “Then I’ve got a surprise for you later on. We’re finally going to have that talk.”

  Leo’s back is to me so he doesn’t see my face. Why does that phrase still turn me cold?

  Because he could easily be planning to say:

  ‘I am your boyfriend but just for now because come the Autumn I’m moving back to Paris.’

  Or

  ‘I am your boyfriend, but I was thinking we could have on open relationship.’

  I tell myself to shut up and follow Leo out of the house. As if either of those phrases even sound like something he’d say. I’ll have something to eat and drink first and then worry about Leo’s surprise “talk” later.

  Later comes all too soon.

  “Where are we going? I’m shattered,” I complain.

  I let Leo lead me to the car but I’m still feeling a bit grumbly. After a day like today or I want to do is cuddle. Pete turning up on my doorstep has jarred me. Why was I ever with him? Next to Leo now I can say I was never in love with Pete, not even remotely. He was just “good enough” which doesn’t reflect well on me. Although in my defence I didn’t know there was love out there. Pete deserves the chance to find someone who will love him in the way that I love Leo.

  Although frankly I can’t compare the two of them in that way. Leo is sexy and smart and kind. Leo makes my insides do cartwheels and also makes me feel like I’m beautiful and sexy and smart. I love Leo, I love him.

  I love him with an intensity that scares me rigid. Looking into Leo’s eyes there is a connection there to make me feel like I’ve just woken up after a long period of sleepwalking.

  Like I’ve never been awake before now.

  I just wish I could know for sure he loves me too.

  “So why did we have to leave the dogs behind?” I asked climbing into the passenger seat of Leo’s jeep.

  “You’ll understand when you get there. The dogs will be fine. Maxi will dog sit and Joanna said she’s going to pop down and check on them if the coast is clear. If not she’ll ring Sophie and Sophie will pop in to check.”

  “Okay.” I feel a bit bad now for making a fuss when Leo has gone to so much trouble. “Sorry, I’m a bit overtired. It’s been such a long day.”

  Leo slides a hand onto my leg, his thumb running up the outside of my thigh and his fingers trail up inside of my leg. The fabric of my dress is thin Indian cotton and I feel the caress everywhere.

  I shiver.

  “Are you cold?” He asks solicitously as he pulls out onto the main village road heading not left towards Mirepoix but right towards Carcassonne.

  Carcassonne. Bastille day.

  “I’m an idiot,” I exclaim. “With everything that’s been going on today I completely forgot about Bastille Day. Are we going to the fireworks?”

  “Yes, I thought you’d like it. Luckily they don’t start until 10:30 p.m. and I know a good place we can watch from, up in the vineyards close to the lycée Agricole where we won’t have to get caught up in all the crowds.”

  I know that the firework display at Carcassonne for Bastille Day is the second largest display outside of Paris. It’s been known to attracts up to as many as 400,000 people. I got so caught up organising the village inspection that the date went clean out of my mind.

  “Are you sure we’ll find somewhere to park?”

  “Yes, we can park off-road on one of the vineyard tracks with the Jeep and I’ve got a blanket in the back.” Leo’s thumb doesn’t let up its intimate caress and while the road is clear I’m sure this counts as driving without due care and attention, or whatever the equivalent French law is. I can’t quite bring myself to stop him though.

  “That sounds … lovely.” I gasp as he rests his fingers on the bunched-up fabric between my legs. “You know what you’re doing is really very lovely too but perhaps you should focus on driving?”

  My protest is somewhat reluctant. After a stressful day I could do with a little release.

  “I thought we could have that talk.” Leo’s tone is casual, but my heart instantly beats faster. I’ve been too scared to ask Leo how he feels about us and where he sees it going. I’ve been enjoying being in the moment, too scared that to voice anything might prick the balloon. I’ve been bobbing along, letting it carry me so I’ve been floating and enjoying the sensation far too much to endanger it.

  “I thought we did talk, earlier in the kitchen,” I say, trying to ignore my racing pulse. “Anyway I distinctly remember you telling me that talking is over rated.”

  “That was when I wanted you to shut up and kiss me,” Leo admits laughing. “Tonight I’d like to talk. At first anyway.”

  “Hmm.” I think about all the ways I like to be able to distract him. When the firework display starts it’ll be too noisy to talk anyway and…

  When Leo is determined to do something there’s no stopping him. Who knows maybe I’ll even like what he has to say.

  Huh. A small snort escapes my lips.

  “Did you say something? Leo asks.

  “No. So you think everything went okay today then?”

  “Yes, definitely. You did a great job.” Leo’s tone is warm.

  “I did hardly anything.” I protest.

  Leo shakes his head. “It would never have got off the ground without you. You have impressed a lot of people.”

  I let his words sink in and try to accept the compliment instead of deflecting it.

  Leo pulls the jeep off the road onto a dirt track leading around the edge of a vineyard. We passed a lot of cars parked off the edge of the road but there is no one up this rutted path.

  When we get out of the car Leo gets a blanket, puts it on the ground and pats space next to him.

  I check my watch. 10 p.m. Crap, there is still time to talk.

  “So, what do you want to talk about then?” I ask quickly, determined to get it over with, like ripping off a plaster.

  Leo cradles my face with his hands and then rubs his thumb over my lower lip.

  “Relax,” he whispers.

  “So you’re definitely not … breaking up with me
then?” I ask, my voice small and my jaw clenched tight.

  “You think I’d bring you all the way up here to break up with you?” Leo asks, incredulous.

  “Well I can’t see you doing it by text like Pete did. You’re far too nice.” I mumble.

  Leo’s expression softens.

  “I don’t want to break up with you. I wanted to talk to you so that there is no … misunderstanding.” He pauses. “Things weren’t great for me when we first met and I said some things I really shouldn’t have.”

  “I understand why.”

  Then Leo takes my hand and interlinks our fingers. “But it occurred to me that there are things I assume you know but maybe you don’t.”

  “Um. Like what?” I ask, still a little anxious.

  “Firstly. Like the fact that I bought into Angeline’s practice a while ago. It didn’t occur to me you might think I still wanted to buy Les Coquelicots from you, but I thought it was time I made it plain. Okay, I had it pointed out to me that I ought to make it plain instead of assuming you could mind read.”

  I laugh.

  “Secondly, I want you to know I am really glad that you own the poppy house, Poppy. It suits you. My sister would have loved what you’ve done to it. She’d also want the house to be full of life, not a shrine to ghosts.”

  “Oh.” I squeeze his hand.

  “Most of all she would have liked you Poppy.” Leo turns to me and in the dim light I can make out the earnestness in his expression. “I can almost hear her telling me not to make a mess of this, to tell you how I feel. To tell you that I love you Poppy.”

  I feel almost winded with relief.

  “I love you too Leo.” I say as soon as I feel able to talk. It feels good to admit the truth, a truth I’ve been so scared of admitting to myself, never mind to Leo.

  Then we are kissing, hungry for each other, both relieved and passionate.

  Happy to be lost in our intimate connection, our little world of two plus pets.

  We must have been kissing for longer than I realised because the sudden explosion of fireworks makes me jump. We get our feet and stand, hand-in-hand, watching the best firework display I’ve ever seen explode into light and colour above the medieval city skyline.

  I am reminded again of the Disney castle with fireworks exploding above. This feels like my very own fairytale. The one with the drop-dead gorgeous vet and the girl who moves to another country looking for her own happy ever after. Supported by a cast of motley animals including cheeky Chihuahuas, a yappy Yorkie, my beautiful blind dog Barney and Maxi the magnificent. Not to forget the delinquent donkeys and some grumpy goats.

  Happy doesn’t come close to describing how I’m feeling right now. I’ve got the dream house in the south of France, some lovely new friends, a sense of community, the glorious landscape that makes my artist’s soul sing and the sunshine my body craves for.

  Most of all I’ve got the man. The man who makes my heart fizz like a Catherine wheel.

  I came to the south of France thinking that it couldn’t possibly live up to my expectations, assuming that I’d be homesick for England from time to time. I expected to be settling down with a compatible partner because love, the type described in romance novels and pop songs, didn’t really exist.

  Instead I’ve been surprised by joy, falling headlong in love with both the country and with the man – my hero, Leo.

  I was sleepwalking through life, expecting little so I couldn’t be disappointed. I’ve been woken with a kiss in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle.

  I finally believe.

  Leo’s hands make interesting forays up beneath my dress and my pulse quickens as the scent of cordite fills the air. The sky is rent with explosions of sound yet it barely registers as we kiss and touch and I both lose and find myself in Leo in the most joyous way possible.

  Pretty soon we’re making fireworks all of our own.

  Epilogue

  “You weren’t put on this earth to get lost in the weeds. Be the tall Poppy you were born to be.”

  Dawn Russell.

  “So, is it ready to inspect?” I’m practically bouncing on the spot and Peanut and Treacle have picked up on my excitement and are literally bouncing up and down like a couple of furry yo-yos. Pickwick woofs excitedly and Barney sticks one ear up as high as it can go, which is the extent that they can join in with the jumping up and down, not being canine acrobats like the Chihuahuas.

  Maxi cocks his head to one side, watching Leo rather than me, and looks mildly interested, which is the equivalent of a Peanut somersault.

  “Yes, we can go over now.” Leo smiles, one that reaches his eyes.

  He is so different nowadays to the man I met the first day I moved in. It’s as though the wind has blown the storm clouds away and let the real Leo shine through. He has still got a lot on his plate and is naturally concerned about his father but at least he talks to me about things now and I know that not feeling alone has made a big difference to him.

  We walk towards the chateau. The September sunshine is glorious. The sunflower fields are still in full bloom and Saint-Quentin-sue-Aude is still in full on summer mode, there is no hint of autumn here yet. My body soaks up the rays of sun and I swear that it sighs happily. After a whole summer of being here in the south of France I feel better than I ever have. The months of sunshine have seeped into my bones and my joints, my skin glows with a healthy golden tan and I swear I feel the sunshine in my step and in my heart. With regular walking and twice-daily yoga I find I am feeling better, health-wise, than I have in years.

  We walk, hand in hand. Barney and Maxi have elected to stay lying on the cool kitchen tiles. So it’s just Peanuts, Treacle and Pickwick trotting at our heels. When we get to the barn on the far side of the chateau it’s very quiet.

  “Aren’t your parents supposed to be meeting us here?” I ask, looking around at the unusually silent courtyard. I know that there won’t be any art in it for a while but the fact that the gallery is finally finished so we can start the creative part of the work is so exciting. Monsieur Dubois is as excited about it as I am which is why I am surprised not to see him. I do hope that he is okay.

  “I’m sure they are around somewhere.” Leo’s face is impassive but I can’t help getting the sense that he’s hiding something.

  The barn is in darkness as we step inside. While I was sort of expecting something like this once I saw how quiet everything was, I’m still surprised to see how very full the barn is with villagers, including both Monsieur and Madame Dubois, thankfully. Adults are bearing balloons and party poppers and some of the village children are holding a banner that says “Thank you, Poppy” in English and is adorned with lots of poppies made from red paper tissue.

  “Surprise,” Leo murmurs in my ear.

  Madame Dubois steps forward, smiling at my expression.

  “We wanted to throw you a party ma cherie, to say thank you for everything you have done for Saint Quentin.”

  Sophie and Angeline also step forward, smiling and embracing me. I feel tears pricking at my eyes. I am surprised by how many of the villagers I know by name. Surprised by how quickly this has come to feel like my village and my community.

  In London my neighbours barely looked at me, here it feels like everybody knows my name.

  “But I haven’t really done anything,” I protest. “I just came up with some ideas.”

  “Pftt.” Madam Dubois raises her steely eyes heavenward. “Tell her Leo.”

  “I think what my mother is getting at is that without you having the ideas and the vision well … in short, without you nothing would have happened this summer. Just look how much you have achieved – getting us into the village guide, finding the Goya prints, your vision for the gallery and the wine tasting tours. And I know you have lots of new ideas too that you haven’t even shared with us yet.”

  “I was saving those for next year.” I grin, pleased that he knows me so well already.

  After talking to lot
s of villagers and thanking the children and their teacher for the banner, admiring their paper flowers, Leo draws me to one side.

  “I told you that the world needs daydreamers and creatives. It looks like Saint Quentin really needed you.” He pulls me closer and whispers in my ear. “But not as much as I did.”

  I turn to look up at him, up into dark eyes full of warmth and love, and wonder how I could ever have found them scary.

  “I think that I’m the lucky one.” I blink back hot tears, still so incredibly grateful that I have landed with such kind people and with one person in particular who not only approves of my idiosyncrasies but loves them too.

  I say “landed,” but really I believe that I was drawn here. From the first time that I saw the Les Coquelicots – my Poppy house – I knew that it was meant to be mine. The name was a sign that this was the place Gran wanted me to put down roots. That here “tall poppies” would be encouraged and nurtured, not necessarily valued by everyone but certainly by the people who count.

  Leo has given me permission to dream, to float up amongst the clouds, knowing that he is standing below, feet planted on the ground tethering me to him. He is my earth, my rock and my anchor.

  I have found my place in the world, somewhere I can flourish and grow. Somewhere I can dare to be different, to change and defy other people’s expectations.

  I have even defied my own expectations.

  We walk hand-in-hand through the bright open spaces of the gallery. The white walls are just waiting to be adorned with colourful canvases and beautiful works of art.

  Like a blank page in my journal, waiting to be painted.

  I smile and squeeze Leo’s hand. Gran would’ve been so proud. I came to the South of France looking for a new life, hoping to feel more connected than I did in London.

  I see Angeline, Sophie and Joanna standing together, laughing. Jacob and Anya preside over the refreshments, beaming and Monsieur and Madame Dubois, well they are as dignified and graceful as the day I met them, but they seem lighter somehow.

  I’m reminded of the ripples, the concentric circles I saw the night Leo gave me the tour of the chateau, and I can see that we are all connected.