‘Did you bring them with you? The ashes,’ Josette asked, a distinct tremble in her voice.
Carla nodded. ‘They’re upstairs in my case.’ Was Josette about to cry at the thought of her dead sister’s ashes being upstairs?
‘Oh dear – Amelia swore it would be over her dead body before she and I were ever in the same house again. Semble avoir raison,’ and Josette made a choking noise.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,’ Carla said before realising Josette wasn’t crying, she was trying to hold back a laugh.
‘I’m not upset. I just can’t get over the irony of it after all these years.’ Josette finished the wine in her glass before standing up. ‘Come on, let’s go and show you the villa. I’ll think about the ashes problem later.’
Twenty minutes later, Josette unlocked the villa’s front door and Carla followed her into the spacious hallway with its terracotta tiled floor and pale yellow walls.
‘We had the whole of the ground floor retiled about fifteen years ago,’ Josette said. ‘The kitchen and the salle de bains were upgraded about five years ago. Tenants were allowed to decorate according to their personal tastes but no structural alterations. The family who have just moved out were here for three years.’ And this is the first time I’ve set foot in the place for forty years, Josette said in her head, saying out loud instead, ‘It will be interesting to see the changes.’
Carla looked at her, surprised. ‘You didn’t see them when they were done?’
‘The letting agency has always handled everything. Amelia was in England and I was never here. It was easier.’ Josette shrugged. ‘Since I’ve been back I’ve been in the garden a couple of times to talk to Joel but never in the house.’
The kitchen, to the left of the front door, was huge, with a large oak plank table that could easily seat twelve placed in the centre, granite work surfaces sat on top of pale distressed units and the open shelves matched the units below. A large green La Cornue stove stood against one wall and a huge American-style fridge was by the window.
‘The kitchen, I sort of remember, was a mismatch of dressers and cupboards and was smaller. And darker,’ Carla said.
Josette nodded. ‘It was. And the meals that came out of it were a bit unmatched too. It’s lovely now.’
The sitting room that led to the terrace at the rear of the house had two comfortable looking red leather settees and an insert log fire.
‘I didn’t realise the villa was let furnished,’ Carla said.
‘The agency suggested we put enough furniture in to qualify it as a furnished rental,’ Josette said. ‘Apparently, it’s easier to get people out of furnished accommodation if it all goes sour than unfurnished. Only two of the bedrooms have beds and we didn’t provide terrace or conservatory furniture, so it all looks rather bare now.’
Carla opened a door in the left-hand corner of the sitting room and walked into a narrow corridor that led to two empty rooms with a bathroom between them. ‘I can’t get over how big it is,’ she said. ‘How many rooms upstairs?’
‘Now, there are three bedrooms, all en suite, and a smaller room used as a study.’
‘The house has a lovely feel to it,’ Carla said, as they climbed the uncarpeted wooden staircase. ‘I wish I could find something half as nice to buy back home. Which was your bedroom? Did you share with Mum?’ she asked as they walked into the first room they came to.
The unexpected question took Josette by surprise. ‘We shared this front bedroom until we were, oh, about nineteen, I suppose. Then Amelia moved into the back bedroom until she got married,’ Josette answered, opening the French doors and stepping out onto the small balcony.
‘I love how you can see the sea and right along the bord de mer from up here,’ Carla said, joining her outside. ‘The grandparents must have rattled around in here after you both left.’
Josette shrugged. ‘They basically closed off the rooms they didn’t use and lived downstairs for years.’
‘So how much does the place rent for these days?’ Carla asked.
‘Around €2,300 a month for a yearly lease. If we rented it out as a holiday let, we’d get that per week in the season. More in August,’ Josette said. She shrugged. ‘Too much hard work.’ She turned to go back inside. Despite the bedroom being altered to accommodate the en suite, the view from the balcony was the same and memories were flooding into her head. Unwanted painful memories she didn’t need.
Back downstairs, Josette opened one of the French doors that overlooked the garden and stood on the terrace looking at the pool and garden and taking a few deep breaths, trying to banish the upsetting emotions flooding through her.
‘Keeping a garden looking this good in the constant heat must be difficult. Your Joel does a great job,’ Carla said thoughtfully, wandering out to look around. ‘How long has the house been in the family?’
‘A hundred years or so. Your great-great-grandfather had it built between the wars.’
‘So it’s always belonged to the family. Shame selling it will mean I’m the last generation,’ Carla said, bending to sniff one of the white rambling roses over the pool house. The ground to the rear of the pool house had been left wild and as well as the roses there were daisies and sunflowers all growing haphazardly and providing nectar for the large number of bees who were buzzing around.
‘If you’ve seen enough I’ll lock up,’ Josette turned away, ignoring the clear message behind Carla’s words. ‘I’ll see you by the front door in five minutes.’
Leaving Carla in the garden, Josette closed the French door and locked it securely before walking slowly back through the house to the kitchen. Carla was right. The villa these days did have a good feeling to it, downstairs at least, almost a welcoming one, even to her. The bad feelings, though subdued, were still lurking in the air upstairs.
Locking the door behind her, Josette went slowly down the front entrance curved steps. Waiting for Carla to join her, she absently picked a few dead leaves off the geraniums. If Carla was serious about being involved and helping her, maybe she shouldn’t insist on selling. Unlike Amelia, Carla would surely agree to the rent money being available, not left in the bank, so she would finally have an income from the place, which would make her life a lot easier. But could she bear to be more closely involved with the villa again?
Hearing Carla’s footsteps coming round the side of the house, Josette straightened up and smiled.
‘All locked up,’ she said.
‘I’ve just had a thought,’ Carla said. ‘Two actually. The first is – how do you feel about scattering Mum amongst the wild bit with the roses and daisies around the pool house? I know she wasn’t much of a gardener, but it’s really pretty around there. D’you think she’d be happy to be back in the garden of the house she grew up in?’
Josette looked at her, lost for words. Never mind whether Amelia would be happy or not, she, Josette, would have to give some serious thought to having her twin sister scattered in the garden of the villa where both their lives had been irreparably shattered. Would Amelia really want to be scattered here? She thought not. But how would she explain that to Carla without a sound reason? There was no way she could tell her the truth.
‘I think we need to close the main gates while the villa is empty,’ Josette said instead, opening the door of a boxed-in panel on the inside of the pillar at the entrance and pressing a button.
Standing on the pavement watching the electric gates swing together and clang shut, Josette knew Carla was waiting for her to say what she thought about the idea of scattering Amelia behind the pool house. But it wasn’t until they were walking along the ramparts and nearly back at the cottage that Josette spoke. And then she didn’t mention the ashes.
‘If you still want to keep the villa and rent it out, we will,’ Josette said. ‘But you can’t do an Amelia and leave it all to me. You will have to come over regularly. The rent money will have to be divided equally between us both and the maintenance account. No
more ridiculous banning access to it.’ When Carla didn’t answer, Josette glanced at her. ‘Continuing to rent the villa out was what you wanted. Or have you changed your mind and want to sell it now?’
Carla shook her head. ‘No, I don’t want to sell, but I do want to talk to you before we decide what to do. You go on back to the cottage. I’m going to buy one of the roasted chickens from the shop in the market, a baguette and a bottle of wine. Tonight we’re going to have a family discussion about my second thought.’ Carla turned and walked rapidly away in the direction of the market.
While Josette waited back at the cottage, putting some plates to warm, and knives, forks and wine glasses on the table in the courtyard, the phrase ‘family discussion’ played on her mind. It was many years since she’d taken part in any family discussion.
And just how could she discourage Carla from scattering Amelia’s ashes around the pool house or in any part of Villa Mimosa’s garden? She was still trying to think of a reason for saying no to that particular suggestion when Carla arrived back with the food. Within minutes, they were both tucking into the delicious meal.
Carla picked up her glass of wine with a sigh and drank. ‘Food tastes so different over here, no idea why though.’ Putting the glass back down she said, ‘So, family discussion time.’
‘Not had one of those for a long time,’ Josette admitted. ‘Besides, now I’ve agreed not to sell Villa Mimosa surely the only things we need to discuss are the new arrangements – and finding new tenants, of course.’
‘I’m really pleased you’ve come round to the idea of us keeping the villa in the family, Tante Josette, but,’ Carla glanced at her, ‘do you know the English expression “light-bulb moment”?’
When Josette nodded, Carla said, ‘You know my life is currently in a bit of a state and I’ve already had to make some life-changing decisions. I’ve looked at so many houses recently and haven’t seen even one that I could consider living in. The moment I walked into the villa I loved it and knew I could live in it happily. That’s when my light-bulb moment happened. I’m going to move to France – and I’d like to live in the Villa Mimosa.’
Josette stared at her. ‘But it’s too big for one person.’
‘Eventually I’d like to run the villa as chambre d’hôte. Or a British-style B&B. I love cooking and that kitchen is calling out to me. So, what d’you think?’ Carla fingered her glass nervously. ‘I can either rent your half from you or buy you out. There should be enough money from Mum’s house to do that. Either way, you’d be assured of an income. And the villa would remain in the family. Which feels important to me,’ Carla added quietly.
Josette held out her empty glass. ‘I need to think – and for that I need another drink please.’
14
The discussion between Carla and Josette was lively and went on all evening. Once she’d got her breath back after Carla had talked about her plans, Josette started to pull them apart. ‘You’ve been to France for three brief visits and now you want to move here. You’re looking at things through a daydreaming haze. The sun might shine every day down here, but life still throws the bad stuff around. One of your biggest problems will be your French – it’s rubbish.’
‘I’ll take lessons. Using it every day, it will improve.’
‘As for running a chambre d’hôte. You don’t have any catering experience, do you? I thought not,’ Josette said when Carla shook her head.
‘No, but I have run a family home for years and I love cooking. If I start small, just offer bed and continental breakfasts for a couple of people at a time, I know I’ll manage.’
Josette sighed and shook her head. ‘I’m not convinced it’s the right thing for you to do. You must talk things through with someone at home.’
‘I hope you’re not suggesting I talk to David. He’s the last person I want advice from.’
‘No, of course I’m not suggesting David,’ Josette said. ‘But how is Maddy going to feel about you moving to a different country? And Ed when he returns?’
‘Of course I’ll talk to the children, but they’re living their own lives now and I’m determined to grab the chance to live the rest of mine the way I want to.’
It was late when Josette finally took a deep breath. ‘I hope I don’t come to regret this, but okay. We’ll talk to the notaire about it, but I’m not selling you my half share, in case it all goes wrong for you. You can pay a small rent, like a normal tenant, for the first year and if your B&B is successful then we can talk about it.’
‘Thank you,’ Carla said. ‘I do know it won’t be easy, but I haven’t felt this excited about anything in years.’ She stood up and started to carry the empty plates into the kitchen. ‘If I can have the keys I’ll go back tomorrow and start making some plans. It’s all right if I spruce the place up a bit, isn’t it?’
‘Mais oui,’ Josette said.
As she got ready for bed in Josette’s guest room, Carla hummed happily to herself. Back in France for less than twelve hours and she was buzzing with excitement at the thought of the future. David, when she told him her plans was sure to play the superior male and tell her she was out of her mind – both moving to France and running a guest house. Ed and Maddy would hopefully be supportive of her. Ed, she knew, would tell her to do whatever made her happy and she knew that living in the villa would.
It was only as she switched off the bedside light that she realised in all the excitement Josette hadn’t answered her question about scattering Amelia’s ashes in the garden. She’d have to ask her again tomorrow.
The next morning, Carla was up early and found Josette in the kitchen making coffee. ‘Shall I go for the croissants while it brews?’ she offered.
‘Thanks. Don’t be surprised to find the town quiet this morning,’ Josette said as Carla opened the front door. ‘May the first is La Fȇte du Travail, when the workers have a day off.’
Carla stopped. ‘Will the boulangerie be open then?’
‘Bien sȗr, for an hour or two this morning.’
Walking through the streets to Josette’s favourite boulangerie and back again, Carla passed several pop-up stalls on street corners selling sprays and small pots of lily of the valley flowers. The smell was wonderful. Impulsively, she stopped and bought a pot for Josette.
To her surprise, when she handed the pot to her, Josette brushed a tear away. ‘Merci Carla,’ and leant and kissed her on the cheek. ‘It’s a long time since anyone gave me May Day muguets.’
‘I’m guessing it’s a tradition associated with today’s fȇte?’
Josette nodded. ‘Everyone buys a spray of muguets for family and loved ones.’
Carla smiled at her aunt. ‘What a lovely tradition.’
After breakfast, Carla set off for the villa. The drive gates were open when she arrived and Joel’s van was parked near the house. The man himself was busy sorting the large terracotta urns on the terrace.
‘Bonjour, Joel,’ Carla said. ‘I’m sorry, je ne parle pas le Français,’ she said slowly and smiled, hoping he would recognise her from their brief introduction the other day. She hoped too he wouldn’t answer her in rapid French. Briefly, she wondered if she should try to tell him about her plans for the villa – no, that was best left until Josette was with her and could explain in French far better than she could.
‘Bonjour,’ Joel said, glancing at her. ‘You are alone? No Josette? I was hoping to speak to her.’
‘No Josette today. I didn’t expect to find you here on a fȇte day,’ Carla said. ‘You speak good English.’
‘A day off from my main job means more time for my own business. I speak English with a couple of clients. Do you speak any French?’
‘A little. Taking lessons is top of my list when I move here.’
‘You move to France?’
‘Yes, I’m going to live here,’ Carla said.
‘What, in the villa?’ Joel said, sighing.
Carla nodded and looked at him questioningly.
&n
bsp; ‘I was hoping Josette would rent me a room for a few weeks before she took on new tenants.’
‘Oh,’ Carla said. ‘I’m sorry. You’re looking to move?’
‘I ‘ave to find another apartment,’ Joel said. ‘My landlord wants to do summer rentals. It’s not always that easy to find something suitable I can afford. Never mind, c’est la vie. Something will turn up – it always does.’ He smiled at her before turning away and carrying on with his work.
Carla walked round to the front door and let herself in. First, she went into the two rooms downstairs, which she thought, to begin with, she’d keep for her private quarters. Plain white walls, terracotta tiles covered the floor and French doors instead of windows opened on to the path that ran down the side of the house. She’d get away with not decorating down here. The bathroom too was all right apart from needing a new shower curtain.
The bedrooms upstairs, though, were a different story. Definitely needed painting, new rugs on the wooden floors and new curtains. The two double beds with pine headboards were fine, but she’d buy new mattresses. A complete new bed for the third bedroom. And lots of bed linen. Dressing tables, wardrobes, bedside tables, lights, lampshades, a comfy chair for each room, trays with crockery and tea-making facilities. The en-suite bathrooms were all good, but towels and bath mats went on the list.
The kitchen was next. Carla bit her lip, thinking of her well equipped kitchen back home, as she surveyed the empty work surfaces and cupboards. At least there was a good cooker and a fridge in situ. She’d just have to get the basics she needed and buy the rest slowly. Setting the villa up was going to take time and would clearly be expensive. It was also unlikely to be ready for any guests before the end of the summer season this year.
Carla took a deep breath. She’d focus on moving to France and having a new life, part of which would entail preparing the villa for guests, but the most important thing would be living life on her own terms.
Villa of Sun and Secrets Page 9