by Lucy Coleman
By the time we’re ready to begin packing up I can see that Ronan is feeling much more comfortable. Yvette did a good job and her narrative flowed really well. I hope the play back confirms that it worked.
We don’t hang around long as Solange has this afternoon off and Ronan offers to give me a lift back. I wish I had anticipated that and popped to the supermarket to get something interesting for lunch.
‘How about we grab some things to eat and find somewhere quiet to have a picnic?’ I suggest instead, as we drive away from the palace.
‘That sounds like a great idea. Do we need to call into your place to pick anything up?’
I shake my head. ‘No. We’ll manage. A rustic lunch will be fun.’ I muse as he raises his eyebrows.
‘Bread, cheese, water and a little fruit. Simple.’
In fact, we end up with a carrier bag full of treats and Ronan finds the perfect place, less than twenty minutes’ drive away.
‘This is very pretty,’ I remark, swinging open the passenger door. Leaning back in, I grab my jumper and tie it around my waist. Ronan is rummaging around in the boot and hands me an old waterproof tartan blanket. I half hope the next thing in his hand will be a comfy sun chair, but no such luck.
Walking over to the grassy bank, I pile everything on the floor in a heap and then begin spreading it out, slipping off my shoes to sit cross-legged. Ronan places the bag next to me and I begin to lay out our feast. My mouth waters as the aroma of the meltingly soft, ripened Brie I’m unwrapping mingles with the saltiness of sliced, dry-cured ham.
‘Can you pass my backpack?’ I call out to him and he returns, shutting the boot and joining me on the rug, easing off his shoes with a satisfying little groan.
When I notice his odd socks, I can’t help laughing.
‘What?’ Ronan asks.
‘That’s some combo you have going on there,’ I declare. One has a black and white stripe, the other is a cobalt blue.
He grins back at me as I finish off emptying the contents of the lunch bag. I watch as he cracks open a bottle of water to wash off a couple of apples.
‘This could be a little messy to eat, but doesn’t it smell divine?’
Ronan looks at me and his eyes travel over my face, making me break into a nervous smile. ‘You look lovely and relaxed. It’s good to see,’ he says softly.
I look away, feeling a little self-conscious suddenly, and begin ripping half of the enormous baguette into chunks, stacking them up into a pile.
‘A feast fit for a king,’ he adds.
We sit facing each other as we tuck in, hungrily. It’s messy, tearing the chunks of bread apart with our fingers and scooping up the soft cheese, but fun. Chewing in silence, I scan around to take in the gentle babbling of the small brook at the bottom of the grassy bank we have found.
In the background an intermittent stream of cars flashes by but, in between, all we can hear are the birds busily chasing each other as they fly in and out of the branches overhead. The spring madness has begun in earnest and after the long winter there is much to do as they prepare their nests.
‘This is a gorgeous little spot. Only in France could you pull up alongside quite a busy road and experience a little piece of heaven.’
Ronan looks across at me, pausing for a second before he bites into an apple.
‘Simple pleasures,’ he agrees.
I watch as he savours the piece of fruit, then leans forward to grab some ham. He can feel my eyes on him, and he shrugs his shoulders.
‘Sorry, I know I probably look like I haven’t eaten for a week, but I’m starving. That was quite a morning and I will admit I was feeling the pressure, but I think I’ve sussed out the camera now. I’ll pop back to Elliot’s and pick up the spare battery a bit later. Any more updates about Mia?’
Holding my hand in front of my mouth as I finish savouring the delights of the creamy cheese, I shake my head. ‘Not really. It’s a case of rest and letting the drugs do their work until she’s well enough to recuperate at home. It sounds like the worst is behind her, but Elliot says she’s very weak. He doesn’t know when he can fly back, and I reassured him that we’re managing.’
Ronan nods, wiping his fingers as he glances across at me.
‘It looks like you have a halo,’ he muses. ‘There’s a shaft of sunlight behind me reflecting off the tips of your hair.’ He pulls his phone out of his pocket and before I know it, I’m laughing and he’s snapping away.
He places the phone down on the blanket next to him and turns his attention back to the picnic platters, lowering his eyes.
‘You never said if there was any significant other, missing you while you’re here working.’
When he raises his eyes to meet mine, I can see he’s serious.
‘No. Not even a cat,’ I add, emphatically.
‘But you do go on dates?’
I nod. ‘Of course. I just haven’t met anyone who succeeded in holding my interest for very long,’ I reply truthfully.
‘Oh, so it’s not a conscious decision to remain single forever, then?’ Well, when he has a question he certainly doesn’t hold back.
‘When the right someone comes along, then my sister reliably informs me that it turns your life upside down. One’s priorities change, I guess.’ I watch Ronan’s reaction with interest, as he draws his hand along the light stubble on his chin while he considers that.
‘Yes.’ He pauses for a moment. ‘Life-changing, for sure, once the commitment is made.’
I can see he’s preoccupied by whatever is going on inside his head. There’s undeniable chemistry between us that we’re both trying to keep in check. For me it’s a self-preservation thing. Who wants to be the first to make that move and face possible rejection? I can’t help wondering whether Ronan is treading carefully because he fears it could upset our working relationship, or because he isn’t sure what’s going on between us.
‘Until that happens, I’m a firm believer in setting oneself goals. I have my sights set on diversifying. Presenting is fine, it pays the bills, but it doesn’t satisfy that creative streak within me.’
‘You find this project exciting, not just because you have a connection to this place, then,’ he reflects.
‘Exactly. My mum and sister don’t understand the pull. I can’t help myself, really.’
He toys absent-mindedly with a piece of baguette, then discards it, his eyes scanning my face with genuine interest.
‘I can understand where you are coming from. In my case I think I’m searching for something and I haven’t found whatever it is yet that will make my life fall into place. All I do know is that being here feels right for me, as I’ve distanced myself from the things that were causing me stress. But admitting that makes me feel like a bad son. This lifestyle suits me, but whether I can continue to earn enough to support it is another thing.’
I can empathise with that.
‘We can’t live our lives just to please other people, even if they do have our interests at heart. My sister is expecting her second child and my mum is now despairing of me ever finding someone who will succeed in tying me down.’ I confess.
‘Mothers always worry about their children, no matter how capable they are. They don’t realise that it’s an added pressure, in a way. Not everyone has a clear picture of their future stretching out in front of them and if you’re one of those people then it makes you feel a little lacking sometimes,’ Ronan admits, frowning.
‘I guess it would. I’ve always had a dream and I don’t want to settle for anything in life, unless it really fires me up. So, did you have someone meaningful in your life before you came here? Was the move to get away and start over again?’
It’s a question I’ve been longing to ask but, rather than appear to be a little too eager to find out, I begin clearing up. Ronan helps tip everything back into the carrier bag as he continues.
‘Just my father and his dysfunctional family life. I was seeing someone off and on. But they weren
’t too impressed when I chose to walk away from a well-paid job to come here and it wasn’t a tough goodbye for either of us. We wanted different things out of life and it was time to part company. There’s no point being in a relationship if you end up simply going through the motions. I guess the truth is that loneliness is scary at times and it’s easy to hang in there for the wrong reasons. Besides, who would put up with me long-term?’ He turns to look in my direction, holding my gaze as if inviting me to comment. It’s a playful look, but he’s waiting for a reply.
‘Well, I enjoy your company.’ My pulse suddenly quickens.
A smile creeps over his face as our eyes remain locked.
‘I was rather hoping you’d say that, because I was thinking the same thing about you.’
It’s a relief to hear him say that, but I wish he hadn’t stopped there.
‘You turned out to be quite a surprise, Ronan. I like a man who isn’t afraid to share his innermost thoughts. And I’ve told you things I’ve never spoken about to anyone before. It’s all about trust, isn’t it?’ I so want him to keep talking to me, to explain how he feels.
‘We have a lot in common, Lexie, and I think we’re both cautious people by nature. Or maybe it’s because of our life experiences, who knows? I see that as a good thing because it rarely pays to rush into something. But getting into a proper relationship is a major upheaval. Your plans sound—’
He begins to reach out with his hand, when suddenly my phone kicks into life and I curse under my breath. Ronan immediately draws back, grabbing the carrier bag and easing himself up on his knees as I answer the call.
‘Hey, Maisie,’ I reply brightly as that familiar little voice fills my ear. The timing couldn’t have been worse but it’s not her fault. ‘How are you, my darling girl? What are you doing home from school at this time of day?’
‘Mummy picked me up early as I had to go to the dentist. It’s raining and we got wet and now I don’t feel very well, Auntie Lexie.’
She sounds upset, rather than ill, and I can hear Shellie in the background telling her she will be fine.
‘You settle down on the sofa and I’ll go and fetch your onesie from upstairs,’ Shellie adds.
‘That’s what I do when I don’t feel very well. I snuggle up on the sofa and watch a film, or something. Resting usually helps and before you know it, you’re feeling much better,’ I encourage her.
Maisie sniffs, sounding dejected.
‘Ollie broke up with me today.’ Her voice is low, almost a whisper.
‘Broke up?’
‘Katie gave him some sweets and she asked him to be her boyfriend. But he was my boyfriend, Auntie Lexie.’
Her voice sounds fractured, as if she’s struggling to hold back a flood of tears. That welling-up feeling that takes one’s breath away. I don’t quite know what to say to her.
‘Have you told Mummy?’
‘No. Every time I try, I get this horrible pain… in my chest… and I can’t… speak.’ Her words come out haltingly. I screw up my eyes, wishing I could just wrap my arms around her.
‘Oh, my darling girl. What exactly happened?’
Another sniff. ‘He said he was breaking up with me because Katie was nicer to him.’
‘What did you say to that?’
‘I started crying and he said I was a baby.’
Ah, my heart is literally in pieces now as I hear the pain coming through so very clearly in her words.
‘Maisie, you aren’t a baby at all and it’s fine to cry when you’re feeling upset. One day, when you’re all grown up, you will meet someone very special and he will be a keeper. Like your daddy. But until then boyfriends will come and go.’
‘But I like Ollie, Auntie Lexie. He can run really fast and he’s funny.’
‘I’m sure he’s amazing, darling. But you are even more amazing, believe me. For now, though, I think it’s best if you just have lots of friends and lots of fun. But know that friends come and go. That’s not a bad thing, but a good thing. A new friend could introduce you to a new hobby, for instance.’
‘Have you made any new friends in France, Auntie Lexie?’ Her voice at least sounds even, now.
‘Yes, I have. Lots of new friends. And I’ve learnt so many new things and that has made me feel very happy. When I get home, I’m going to have so much to tell you and one day I know you’ll want to visit Versailles too, when you hear all about it.’
There’s a slight pause. ‘It wasn’t very nice when Ollie made fun of me,’ she says. It sends a little stab of pain to my heart.
‘I know and it was very wrong of him, Maisie. When someone is hurting, the kind thing to do is to try to make them feel better. That way, we feel good about ourselves, too. Make sure you remember what I said, Maisie – you are one amazing girl. You are strong, you are clever, and you can do anything you want to do and I’m so proud of you. Now, put a big smile on your face and think about what film you are going to watch to cheer you up.’
I have a lump in my throat the size of a golf ball as Shellie returns to the room.
‘Here you go, Maisie. Let’s get you out of that school uniform and make you more comfortable. Say goodbye to Auntie Lexie.’
I can imagine the doleful look on that angelic little face.
‘I miss you,’ Maisie croaks into the phone.
‘Miss you, too, darling girl. Don’t forget to wear that smile and I’ll call you later to see how you’re doing.’
Shellie’s voice looms up again. ‘Let’s watch a little TV, then you can have a nice, relaxing bubble bath. What do you say?’
Maisie doesn’t respond.
‘I’ll call you later when I’m home, I promise, and we can have a long chat.’
‘You’re coming home?’ Maisie’s voice sounds hopeful.
‘Oh, no, I meant my home here in France. But I have lots to tell you, all about how they take little cuttings to make new plants. We could have a go at that when I get back.’
‘Where are you now?’ Maisie asks.
‘I’m having a picnic with a friend.’ I screw up my face, thinking that will pique Shellie’s interest and I daren’t look in Ronan’s direction.
‘I wish I was there, too,’ Maisie replies.
‘One day maybe we can all come here together for a little holiday. Now, get that onesie on and snuggle up. Love you!’
I jump up, slipping the phone into my bag, and Ronan and I scoop up the edges of the blanket, shaking off the crumbs and folding it into four.
‘Sounds like someone’s having a tough time. You’re missed,’ he comments.
‘Yes. My niece Maisie is such a blessing, but it’s tough not seeing her as she’s such a big part of my life.’
‘Sounds like she’s in need of her auntie right now.’ He grins. ‘It must be nice having close family around you, though. Knowing that you make a difference to their lives.’
‘I’m lucky,’ I admit, trying not to sound homesick. ‘But, getting back to business, I’ll make sure you’re paid promptly and I want you to know how grateful I am for what you’re doing to help out.’
He looks a little embarrassed, chewing his lip before turning away to put the blanket in the boot of the car and slamming it shut.
‘I wasn’t, I mean, when I said about affording my lifestyle here it wasn’t a hint. Please don’t think that. I’m not desperate for money, but I am at that point where if I can’t get any further with the third book that I’m working on then I have to make some tough decisions. I’m more than happy to help out until Elliot gets back, because chances are this is the line of work I’ll be looking to get back into. So, it’s good practice for me because it’s either that or taking a job teaching French to foreign businessmen, by the look of it.’
I’m rather shocked he’s that close to giving up on the final book in the series. That would be such a shame.
‘I found one of my grandma’s notebooks that has a little more information in it that might be of interest to you.’
That seems to get his attention.
‘Really?’
‘Yes. I tried to put them in some sort of chronological order, and I glanced over the first page of each one. Do you have time to head back with me and take a quick look?’
‘You bet,’ he says, sounding very keen indeed. ‘But how about we take a little detour, first?’
16
Twists and Turns
Standing on the pavement outside the florist’s shop, we tip our heads back and stare up at the tiny first-floor balcony. Whoever lives there now certainly loves their plants. The balcony is a riot of spring colour with baskets and tubs full of red and yellow tulips.
‘Stay here,’ Ronan says, looking at me rather pointedly. ‘I won’t be a moment.’
I continue to gaze upwards, ignoring the flow of people weaving around me. It’s the address in the back of Grandma’s notebook. Amazingly, it’s less than a five minute walk away from where I’m staying. When I head up to the palace I’m literally following in her footsteps, and the thought of it sends a little quiver of excitement coursing through me. Taking a half-step backwards, I inadvertently bump into a pedestrian. Mumbling an apology in my best French accent, the man gives a courteous reply in return in English. I guess my accent isn’t quite as liltingly French as I’d hoped.
The white and green awning over the shopfront adds to what is a very colourful picture. An abundance of shades of green, pink, purple, yellow, white, pale blue… and that smell. There is a heady mixture of perfumes and earthy notes from the woody bark of cut stems, mingling rather tantalisingly in the tightly packed space. Pots of fragrant spring bulbs, everything from grape hyacinths to crocuses, and buckets full of freesias and irises extend out, taking up half of the pavement. It’s the perfect framing for a magnificent window display, which is burgeoning with a myriad of colours and textures.