by Klaire, Jody
She chuckled, pointing to the ceiling. “There is more, oui?”
There was?
Rebecca and I exchanged a glance and ran up the stairs. We turned to the left only to see it was a spacious mezzanine level with offices overlooking the workshop below.
“I’d say Berne deserves a massage,” she mumbled.
“I concur.” I checked out the rooms, Berne and I had a walk-in wardrobe, Babs and Rebecca the same. We both had en-suites anyway but now we had guest bedrooms too.
Rebecca leaned in. “We got married, Pip,” she whispered.
I nodded, looking down at the rings on my finger: the one Berne had presented in the wedding and the one that had been her grandmother’s—the one I’d always worn.
“We have houses and jobs,” she mumbled.
We did. We had them in two different countries too.
“I’m double barrelled again,” she said, a sob filling her voice.
I patted her on the back.
“Yup.” I chewed on my lip. “Not quite sure how we managed that.”
She shook her head. “Me neither.”
“Come, have some tea, my love,” Babs purred from the hall landing.
Rebecca winked at me, went to Babs, hoisted her up off her feet and into her arms. “I’ve got a better idea,” she said in a tone far too impolite to hear.
Babs giggled as she was carried off.
I turned to Berne who leaned against the wall, love, affection and hunger in her eyes. “Don’t suppose you soundproofed?”
She chuckled. “Perhaps, we do this when they are on honeymoon, oui?”
I went to her, slid my arms around her neck and sank into a kiss. “You sold your apartment, didn’t you?”
She nodded.
“This is how you hurt your back again?” I rubbed over the area, hoping my touch would soothe her.
“Perhaps, but it is worth it to see the smile on your face.” She kissed me, love pouring through her eyes, her smile.
I pulled her by the waistband, backing up into our room. Her smile turned to a sultry one. I breathed in the sight of her in the moonlight. Then I placed a finger to her lips.
“Wait there.”
She cocked her eyebrow.
I went to the shutters and closed them.
She chuckled.
I turned. “Hopefully you know how to get me out of this because I’m quite sure Caroline sewed me into it.”
Berne slid her arms around my waist, nuzzling into my neck. She planted a soft kiss on my shoulder. “I will work by feel, oui?”
Her tone sent a shudder up and down my spine. “Every adventurer needs her guide, right?”
Chapter 58
Winter had billowed in on “Le vent,” bringing heavy snow and a bitter chill to Ajoux-sur-Rhône. I trudged into the house, feeling like a human ice lolly.
Renovating Hearts saw us all working together: Doug ran the company allowing Babs to concentrate on architecture and design, Stephanie project managed—all while pitching in with the plastering and rendering; Rebecca was our technology and promotional whizz; Berne was in charge of education and stone masonry—so she had her own team to save her back; Fabrice was our plasterer, Gwen our decorator, and me? Somehow I was head of furniture design and carpentry. Somewhere in my head, I knew it was supposed to be work but I loved it. Who knew hard work could be fun?
I’d driven up in the company Land Rover, feeling that Winston should stay tucked up in a nice cosy garage. We’d been busy on a project outside Marseilles and would be starting on Stephanie and Doug’s house soon. It would be their first project together as Mr and Mrs Fletcher... Well, at least professionally.
I wandered into the workshop, frowning. It was quiet. Rebecca and Babs were in Monaco but I could have sworn Berne had said she’d be home. Ah well, maybe she was at her parents’ house.
I shook the snow off my jacket and wiggled my toes in my boots. Maybe I could thaw out in a nice hot bath? I was aching from head to toe and I was pretty sure my knees could creak louder than Winston.
“Berne?” I called upstairs, spotting her jacket on the hook. The fire in the living room had been lit. I switched up the thermostat on the wall. She must be home so where was she? “Berne?”
“Oui.” I jumped as her voice sounded behind me. She caught my hips and chuckled into my ear. “Pardon, Pepe, I was in the office.”
“Okay?” I turned and snuggled in. She was nice and warm. Warm was good.
“Oui, I had to finish the design to send mais...” She sighed. “I take a while to find out how to do this.” She shrugged, laying a stupor-inducing kiss on me then sauntered off into the kitchen.
“We could really use Rebecca, huh?” I asked. Rebecca was our technology person and she’d started studying for her architects degree. She had as much energy as Babs.
“Oui, I call, she talks me through it.” She took out a tub from the fridge, pulled off the lid and placed it in the microwave. “I save some for you.”
“I love you.” My stomach rumbled in agreement.
She flashed me a charming smile.
My phone rang and I pulled it out, staring down at the screen. Rebecca had told us we needed smartphones for the business. Especially as it was expanding so fast. Problem was, the phone was smarter than me, and I couldn’t figure out how to answer it. I pressed the green bit. Nope.
“Swoosh it,” Berne said, performing some kind of hand ballet.
“Swoosh?” I asked, following her gesture.
“Pippa?” Doug’s picture turned into a bigger one and his voice made me jump.
Oh, I’d answered. Yay for hand ballet.
“Pippa?”
Oh, right. Speak. “Hey, how’s Steph—”
“In labour, at the hospital.” He sucked in his breath. He sounded like he’d been jogging. “She’s having a baby... Our baby...”
I yanked my coat off the hook, nodding to Berne. She poured the heated food into the flask, grabbed bottles of water and slid on her jacket and shoes.
“Where are you? Do we need to schedule a plane?” It had been a running joke where they’d be when the baby arrived... and I sounded very professional. In reality, I’d call Stephanie’s office and Dede would do it, between doing her nails and collecting seashells.
“We’re in Monaco,” he wheezed. “Meeting Rebecca and Babs.” He puffed. “Pippa, I think I’m going to faint.”
“Breathe through it,” I said, getting into the passenger seat of the car.
Berne started the engine—she’d been seeing an osteopath who really helped her back, she could drive again. It was good to see her drive—She squeezed my knee. “Where?”
“Monaco,” I mouthed to her.
She shot me a smug grin and hummed La Marseillaise.
“I can hear you,” Doug muttered. “The baby will have my genes too, you know.”
Berne sang louder.
He shuddered out a breath. “Could you call Erique for me...? Could you call my parents... Could you...?” He puffed again. I was quite sure he may well pass out.
I smiled. “Doug, sit down if you’re standing and sip some water. I’ll call Dede, she’ll be more than happy to use her phone.” And, she’d know how to use it. “Breathe, Stephanie is tougher than she appears.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. She is ordering them around in there... In French.” He sighed. “Couldn’t understand a word, thankfully.”
I grinned. “So go hold her hand.”
“I’m scared.” He sounded so much like a little boy.
“Don’t be. Just think rugby team.” It had been a running theme. I only hoped the baby wasn’t the size of a prop forward for Stephanie.
Doug chuckled and hung up.
I texted Rebecca to let her know just in case... Oops... And Berne’s entire family, along with Gwen and Fabrice. I stared at it. Ah well. It saved calling them.
“Alors, France once again moves ahead, oui?” Berne winked at me, sneaky smile on her face.
“
Don’t think Doug will let that happen for long. For the next baby, he’ll have her under house arrest on British shores.” I smiled. I’d never seen Doug so happy. Stephanie pulsed with joy. The baby was going to be loved, I knew that much.
“The battle still rages, oui?” She said and squeezed my knee again.
“Too right.” I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. I took the lid off my flask. My stomach growled in response. “Battling is half the fun.”
“In that case, I have something for you.” She pulled out a box from her trouser pocket, eyes on the road.
I grinned, yay, presents.
“It is traditional, oui?” She smiled and I opened the box. Inside was another ring. Three jewels and it: Blue, white, and a red one. It looked suspiciously like French flag.
I smiled and slid it on. It looked very nice along with my other rings. “I suppose I’d better stump up too, huh?”
I’d run in the rain from her, letting her catch me. I was glad she felt it needed celebrating too. I unzipped my jacket to give her a flash of her old French rugby top and pulled out my own box.
Berne pulled us over and laughed as she pulled out the little carving of her kayaking down the Ardèche.
“Oak?” She asked with a chuckle.
“Fine English oak too.” I winked at her. “Thought it might jog your memory that I haven’t been taken canoeing for too long.”
She leaned in and brushed her lips to mine. “Every adventurer needs a guide, non?”
“Oui,” I whispered. “Sounds like a plan.”
About the author
Jody has been everything from a serving police officer to working in kitchens before finding her home in writing. She can often be found chuckling to herself at her own jokes; being pounced by her golden retriever Fergus; eating cake or chocolate or preferably both, and sometimes, when Fergus hasn’t run off with her keyboard, she writes stuff.
Best Maid Plans is Jody’s first book independently published but you can find her other published works online or in most book stores (you’ll just need to order them in.)
Website: jodyklaire.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/jodyklaireauthor
Twitter: @jodyklaire