Best Maid Plans

by Klaire, Jody

  The lane split into two and I drove up through the countryside, finding a spot next to a beautiful old abbey. France was full of hidden treasures and sublime views. I loved it. I loved the country and, despite wanting to throttle her, I loved Berne. I loved her the only way I knew how and, by the sound of it, that wasn’t enough.

  I pulled out my mobile. Berne would blow a gasket if she found out I’d called Doug, yes, but I didn’t care. He was a good man, a part of me, and I needed some kind of advice.

  “Hey, babe,” he chimed in his cheery tone.

  I closed my eyes and slumped back into the seat. It felt so good to hear his accent, to hear someone speaking English.

  “Hey, do you have a minute?” My voice had a whiny edge and I tried to swallow back my tears.

  “For you, always.” I heard a door close and creaking. I could see him on his leather sofa at the back of the house. He’d have his father’s slinky Doberman, Jeffery, next to him, snoozing on the floor. I could smell Doug’s aftershave through the memories it provoked. “You sound upset. Your mother call?”

  I ran my hand over the baking hot wheel. I should have parked in the shade. “No, I’ve not heard from her or Catherine for a while.” Not since I’d deleted Catherine’s stinking email. Some big sister she’d turned out to be.

  “Is it work, I know the locals can get a bit intense?” He creaked again. I knew why, he was picking up his stress ball from the coffee table and would throw it up and catch it. I knew every little habit of his. Did he believe I could make a living out here, that someone would want to hire me?

  “No, it’s not that.” I chewed on my lip. I could hear the rain in the background, Jeffery’s doggy whimpers in his sleep. I even missed the rain now.

  “Pip, I haven’t heard you sound this unsure since we met. You were so confident when I left, what’s changed?”

  I’d been a wreck when Doug met me. I’d managed to function but not with any real conviction. He’d been so kind and caring, so patient. How had I forgotten how much he did for me? “She wants me to be someone I’m not... I think... or I do... I’m confused.”

  “More fool her.” His irritation made me smile. “Pip, I made you feel that way before we split up. Look where it got me.”

  I sighed. “Actually, getting a girl called Brandy pregnant did that.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, not my finest moment but then you were off with Frenchie.”

  I sucked in a breath. I hated that I’d done that to him, no matter what he’d done with Brandy. I should have been honest with him. It wouldn’t have changed me loving Berne but I’d have preferred being up front with him.

  “She insinuated that I was either closeted or having an affair with her friend.” I was pretty sure that’s what Berne had meant. Hadn’t she?

  He grunted. “Well maybe she’s just not enough for you.”

  “Helpful.” I wasn’t going there with him. Berne was enough. How could she think she wasn’t? “Maybe I’m doing something wrong?”

  “I had no complaints.” I heard him stretch out and the methodical thunk, thunk, of him catching the stress ball. “Maybe she’s forgotten how much you’re worth?”

  “I thought she was happy.” It wasn’t like Berne hadn’t pursued me, like she’d kept her distance when I’d arrived in Ajoux with Doug. She’d made it clear she still wanted me... until I’d split up with Doug, then she’d turned up with Vivienne. Was I missing something? “I thought she treasured being with me.”

  “Really?” He snorted. “Because you sound like you feel a million quid.”

  He had a point. Considering I was supposed to be with the love of my life, I wasn’t feeling very sure. Maybe I was hormonal? “What do you think I should do?”

  He laughed. “Are you asking my advice on women?”

  “You know me. Your opinion counts. What would you say to one of the guys?” I closed my eyes. The heat was making my neck itch. Good thing I had suncream... somewhere. I sat up and rifled through the door. No, not there. I stretched across, opening the glove compartment which clattered down spilling tapes all over the seat.

  “I’d say she sounds like she’s forcing you to prove you’re on her side of the wicket.” He did sound like he was talking to one of his friends.

  “Rebecca says she doesn’t care. She loves me as I am.” I located the suncream, shoving the tapes in as best I could.

  “Pip, you’re not gay.”

  I splodged out the sticky cream. I put Doug on speaker phone with my free hand and placed my phone on the speedometer. It was in the centre of the dash. I loved that quirk about Minis. “You don’t think I am?”

  The thunk, thunking of the ball continued. “You are and you’re not. You’ve never been a label. You loved me, didn’t you?”

  “You know I did and still do.” I smiled. He probably needed that reassurance. My love for Berne bore no reflection on him.

  “And you never wanted labels with me. I was blind to think you did, so why would Berne try and do that?” He sighed. “Surely she saw how much it made you lonely.”

  Wow, he’d realised how I felt? He’d thought about it? I had been lonely. I’d left him to be myself and I couldn’t go back to following expectations.

  “Tell her, babe. Tell her that trying to change you won’t work. Tell her you’re amazing as you are.” He thunked a few times and Jeffery whimpered in his sleep. “Yeah, tell her that she needs to treat you like the lady you are.”

  He sounded so impressed with himself. I loved the numbskull, I really did.

  “What if she thinks otherwise?” Berne could be bored of me, annoyed by me. Doug had strayed and he’d adored me. What if she decided she wanted a proper gay woman who she could impress her friends with?

  “Since we’ve split up, we’ve talked more frankly than we ever did as a couple. If I’d known how good it was to know you, to really know you inside, I’d have married you when I first thought about it.” His defence filled me with a steadiness I hadn’t felt since he’d gone home. He was so calm about everything.

  “Do you think maybe it’s that I’m better as a friend?”

  Doug grunted his disagreement. “I love you as you are. She’s lucky to have you. If she stuffs up, I’d take you back in a heartbeat.”

  I smiled. “Thank you.”

  Sniffing filled the speaker. Jeffery had woken and was investigating. Any second there’d be grunting as the huge Doberman clambered up to lie alongside Doug. It would be where I was lying normally and I’d be pinned in place by the most affectionate, wimpy guard dog ever. “Hi, Jeffery.”

  “Do you think you want to just be a friend to her, Pip?” Doug asked, his tone careful.

  “No, but maybe I give off that impression?” I sighed, deep in thought.

  Splodge.

  The suncream dripped from my palm onto my thigh. Would help if I rubbed it in. So might giving Berne a clear message that I didn’t want to be her friend. I wanted a lot more.

  “See, I knew you’d figure it out.” He sounded so proud of me that I felt tears bubble up again.

  “You’re not bad, Fletcher,” I whispered, hearing the hoarseness in my voice.

  He laughed. “Is that all Jeff and I get?”

  I smiled. “I love you, you pompous ass.”

  He creaked again and I heard a disgruntled grumble as Jeffery protested. “I love you too, babe. Go beat some sense into the Frenchie.”

  I glanced at the time and nodded. “I will.”

  Winston started first time as though he was on board and I took a deep breath, flicked the top back on the suncream, and wiped my face with my t-shirt. If I showed up and was the ultimate professional; if I stopped worrying about what I shouldn’t say and just talked like I wanted to; then Berne would either like it or not. Either way, I’d be open and me which is what I wanted.

  If she loved me, she’d go with it... I hoped.

  I pulled out onto the bumpy pothole ridden road, hoping Winston’s suspension would hold up. I didn�
�t have the money for groceries let alone a new suspension coil.

  I sighed.

  “Fake it till you make it,” was the phrase, wasn’t it—I wound down the window for air—because that tactic had really worked with Doug, hadn’t it?

  Chapter 8

  Rebecca watched Berne pace to and fro outside the huge farmhouse. Stephanie had found a beautiful spot high in the hills but Rebecca could still see the tell-tale twinkle of the sea on the horizon. Didn’t help make her feel tranquil. She was trying to keep her temper in check. She couldn’t cope with seeing Pip upset but it wasn’t her place. Not her relationship.

  She yanked down her baseball hat, shielding her eyes from the stifling glare of the sun. Why couldn’t they have waited in her Land Rover? Her Land Rover with air conditioning.

  She’d told Pip it was a present from Doug but it was from the money she’d been given as a severance package from their old employers. Pip’s protest in the boardroom, in defence of her, had changed the company. The director had been retired, Miss Evans—the woman who’d gotten Rebecca fired—had been forced to resign, and Rebecca had been paid off to keep quiet.

  She’d not told Pip because she was using it to pay the bills, to buy food and they needed something more sturdy and reliable than Winston on the winter roads. Doug had agreed to keep her confidence because he’d been itching to help. He was still itching to help. All Pip had to do was call him. She had a feeling why Pip wasn’t and it had nothing to do with being independent.

  Berne checked her watch yet again and Rebecca sighed. “She’ll be here.”

  Berne stopped, glared at her, then resumed pacing.

  “You need to stop thinking she’s running back to England everytime you argue.” If Pippa didn’t show it was because Winston had broken down and she’d text.

  Berne halted, her eyes fierce. “You can guarantee that she is not?”

  Rebecca folded her arms. “Actually yeah, I can. Give her some credit.”

  Berne’s shoulders sagged and she blew out a breath, rubbing at her back. “I lose her once, I could not bear to lose her again.”

  “Then stop trying to confuse the poor girl and maybe you won’t.” She held Berne’s glare without backing down. She wasn’t letting her get away with talking to Pip the way she had, she didn’t care. “What do you want from her?”

  “Pardon?” Berne’s jaw jumped as if she’d vent. They’d been polite, friendly, if not wary toward each other so far. She liked Berne, Berne seemed to like her, and this conversation was really going to test that.

  “You’re acting like you don’t trust her.” She smiled, hoping that Berne would stop shooting daggers at her. “You act as if you don’t even like who she is.”

  “I tell her I worry about Stephanie and Emilie.” Berne folded her arms. “She gets angry and leaves and it is me acting with dislike?”

  Rebecca took a breath. She’d thought Berne wasn’t really listening. “It sounded like you said Stephanie was into her and Pip was hiding like Vivienne.”

  It had sounded odd at the time. Berne was placid, level-headed, stoic, unlike Babs who fired off her feelings—Babs, yeah. Man, she was hot.

  “It was not meant to sound this way.” Berne sighed. “It is a mess with Stephanie and Emilie. I feel responsible. I feel guilty for Stephanie’s pain.” Her arms flexed and Rebecca attempted not to stare at the defined shoulders. The woman was dreamy. Pip certainly knew how to pick them.

  “So you think Stephanie would want to get her own back by stealing Pippa?” Rebecca focused on Berne’s eyes. Intense eyes.

  “Non, I trust Stephanie. She is like family... mais... I am hearing things from Emilie I do not like.” She raised her hand. “Stephanie is younger, she has better things to offer.”

  “You think Pip would leave you for anyone?” Rebecca leaned against the gate post between the roadway and the large stretch of land up to the farmhouse. Berne was crazy if she thought that. “Even you have to see Emilie is a nasty piece of work.”

  Berne frowned. “She does not know you. It is a front.”

  “No it’s jealousy and trying to hurt a woman who cared about her.” Yeah, Berne was dreamy but, boy, the woman could be dense too. “Did she spare a thought for how either Pip or Stephanie felt when she offered for you to go skiing with her?”

  She’d been lucky Rebecca managed to force down her “redhead,” as Pip called it. If anyone had talked to Babs like that, they’d have had a knuckle sandwich.

  “Non,” Berne sighed. “But this anger, it comes from something I do wrong with Pepe, oui?”

  “Are you really worried that Pip wants anyone else?” She shook her head. “Seriously?”

  Berne slunk onto one hip. “I worry she grows lonely, grows bored. You have trouble finding jobs.” She winced and rubbed at her back. “Stephanie has glamour, has flair and there is always Doug who loves her still... They are worries, you have this too, non?”

  Rebecca frowned, pushing off the wall. “What happened?”

  “Pepe was easier to understand... when we were younger. She did not hesitate to live with me, to wear my ring.” She rubbed her back again. “Sometimes, I worry she is not happy.”

  “No, I meant with your back.” Rebecca stalked over and yanked up Berne’s top. She expected to see a bruise or maybe a graze but she shuddered at the huge scar running down Berne’s spine. “What the—”

  “It is nothing.” Berne tried to yank down her top but Rebecca batted her off.

  “Babs never said anything about you hurting yourself.” That was one massive scar. It was a cool one but still made her wince.

  “She cannot know.” Berne turned around. “I fell before you and Pepe come home. I was hurt and I do not like to worry Babs. She depends on me.” She went and sat on the boundary wall. “I am healed, it will only make her worry and fuss.”

  “How long has it been hurting?” Did Berne tell anyone anything? How did Babs not know about it? Berne must have taken a good while to recover. Rebecca sighed. Yeah, and thanks to Vivienne, Berne and Babs had hardly seen each other for years.

  “It does so when I do too much. It is normal. I have medication. It will heal with rest, oui?” She stared at her boots and Rebecca didn’t know whether to throttle her or hug her. “Pepe does not come to me for help anymore.”

  Rebecca walked over and pulled her by the arm.

  Berne yelped.

  “There’s your reason for her not asking for help, she doesn’t want to burden you.” Rebecca shook her head. Why hadn’t Pip said something?

  Berne scowled deeper. “She runs to him for help mais not me.”

  “She hasn’t run anywhere and she doesn’t like being helped.” Rebecca folded her arms. “A bit like you.” Poirot had nothing on Detective Whitely. Yeah. “Do you two ever talk?”

  Berne stared at her feet again. She rubbed her back like it was in agony. “I am afraid to sometimes.”

  “Unless you’re trying to be Pip-less, maybe you should try it.” She took Berne by the shoulders, careful not to jar her. “You need to talk to her like an adult.”

  Which felt odd saying to someone older but hey.

  “I know,” Berne held up her hands. “But I did not mean to upset her. I worry, oui, but I would never make her feel it is her fault.”

  That made more sense, that was the Berne that she knew. Pip needed to talk more. Rebecca set her jaw, that was a job for Whitey.

  “So you need help with anything?” She smiled her best supportive smile. “I can at least help with lifting, just call.”

  Berne’s eyes warmed. “Merci.”

  Spluttering and groaning filled the air as Winston, the hunk of junk he was, rattled up the road toward them. “Ah, there’s Winston announcing that Pip is fashionably late... as always.”

  Berne’s face, her shoulders relaxed, with such evident relief that Rebecca shook her head.

  Pip got out of Winston and Berne wrapped her up in a hug. The relief on Pip’s face as she sunk into a cudd
le only reinforced the fact that talking to the woman you were in love with was hard.

  It was exactly like that with Babs. They didn’t talk about everything. There were areas Babs avoided and Rebecca did much the same. It stopped them bonding—she grinned—well, there was definitely a lot of bonding but not enough talking.

  “I want to fix that,” she told the gatepost beside her. “I want to get it right.” She smiled. “Yeah. Any way you want it, Barbara Henri, you got it.”

  ◆◆◆

  Iwas delighted if not confused by Berne’s warm greeting. Her embrace was welcome and I soaked up her closeness.

  “Weren’t you angry when I stormed out?” I whispered. Had I just imagined her mood?

  “Oui, Pepe, this problem between Stephanie and Emilie, it bothers me mais I should not have taken my frustration out on you.” She squeezed tighter. “I do not wish you to change. I love you. Je t’aime. You make me happy, très, très happy.”

  That gave me a smile right through to my toes. Unless..?

  “You thought I’d left again, didn’t you?” I asked and glanced at Rebecca who was turning pink in the sun.

  Berne sighed and pulled back. Her gaze travelled over each contour of my face. “If I am truthful, oui. It makes no sense, I know this mais, I cannot help it.”

  Why didn’t she trust me? “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Berne shuddered out a breath. “It still worries me.”

  Rumbling filled the air and Stephanie roared up in a Porsche truck. She must have been doing very well with her property business or maybe she was a model on the side?

  “Bonjour,” She’d purred with a dashing grin. No suit today but tight jeans, designer boots and a t-shirt that hugged her contours. She had brand name sunglasses which she slid off to embrace Berne.