A Year at the French Farmhouse(10)

‘I can see that,’ Lily said, tucking her own sandy-blonde hair behind her ear and feeling rather guilty that she was showered and freshly washed. ‘I’m sorry if I made it seem… well, that urgent.’

‘Chrissakes, Lily! I thought I was going to have to rescue you from burglars, or, I don’t know, put out a house fire. You said, your message – I thought you were crying. But you seem fine!’ Emily said, stepping into the hall with an eye-roll.

‘I’ve calmed down.’

‘So nothing’s on fire?’

‘Nothing’s on fire.’

‘And I could have taken ten minutes to get dressed?’

‘You could have taken an hour. Sorry. I should have been a bit clearer on the phone.’ Lily grimaced apologetically.

‘So what on earth is this emergency? And what exactly do you need rescuing from?’ Emily said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. ‘I thought I was meant to be the dramatic one!’

‘Shh, keep your voice down!’ Lily said, glancing furtively over her shoulder.

‘Why the shushing? I thought you said Ben was out?’

‘Yes, he’s out. It’s just, Ty’s still here. Asleep, I think, but you never know. And I’m just not… I don’t want anyone to know about this yet.’

‘Now I am intrigued. What on earth have you done, Lily Butterworth? Surely it can’t be that bad?’ Emily said, slipping off her coat, throwing it over the banister and revealing that she had indeed come out in chequered pyjama bottoms and a creased T-shirt that read ‘sweet dreams, sweetie pie’.

Lily grinned. ‘Nice outfit,’ she said. She placed a quick hand on her friend’s shoulder. ‘But thank you,’ she added. ‘I mean, you seriously came through for me.’

‘You mean I overdid it, as usual.’

‘Well, maybe. But it was my fault.’

They smiled at each other for a moment, then Emily shook her head. ‘You only get to cry wolf a couple of times, you know, before people don’t bother to turn up any more,’ she said.

‘I know.’

‘One more fake emergency, and that’ll be it. Wolves everywhere. No sheep left to be found.’

‘Oh, there’s still an emergency,’ Lily said, making a face. ‘Just not a “the call is coming from inside the house” type of emergency. More of… a well, I suppose you could call it a situation.’

‘A situation?’ Emily said, ears suddenly pricked. ‘Tell me more!’

‘Try not to sound too enthusiastic about it.’

‘Ooh, have you done something bad, Lily?’

‘It depends how you define bad, I suppose,’ she said, walking through into the living room where her laptop flickered on the sofa. She passed it to Emily silently and watched as her friend’s eyes quickly scanned the text of the email.

‘Bloody hell, Lily. Is this for real?’ Emily sank onto the sofa, her humour draining from her briefly.

‘Yep,’ Lily replied, sitting next to her. ‘Told you it was a situation.’

‘This is almost dashing-over-in-pyjamas worthy.’

‘I know.’

‘How much wine did you actually have?’

‘Well, almost a bottle, but that’s not the point.’

‘You know, most people get involved in a bit of harmless antisocial behaviour when they’re on the lash. Maybe get arrested or something. Or sleep with a stranger. Or, I don’t know, have a screaming row and throw their partner’s stuff out on the lawn,’ her friend told her, amusement turning up the corners of her mouth despite her serious expression.

‘Yep. All preferable to this, I’d say.’

‘Certainly cheaper.’

‘Yup.’

‘And who looks at properties on eBay anyway? Whenever I buy something on there, I forget to check the measurements and it ends up a complete disaster. But a house!’

‘I know.’

‘One you haven’t even seen?’

‘I know.’

‘In France?’

‘Shh! I know!’ Lily said. ‘What I don’t know is what on earth I’m going to do about it.’ Seeing Emily had cheered her up, as it usually did. But the anxiety she’d been flooded with this morning raced through her again as she looked at the text on the screen.

For once it had been a relief that Ben had booked up a game of tennis for Saturday morning. Usually she’d be disappointed they couldn’t spend a lazy morning together. But today she’d practically packed his sports bag for him.

‘Are you sure it’s OK?’ he’d said. ‘Sorry, I forgot to put it on the calendar. I mean, I don’t feel that great, so if you want me to change it…’

‘No, don’t be silly, it’ll do you good!’ she’d said, patting his back and ushering him to the front door. ‘Oh look, here are your keys!’

‘I’ll be half an hour early at this poin—’

‘Bye then!’ she’d trilled, shutting the front door before rushing to the phone to ring Emily.

‘Surely it’s not binding? I mean, clicking a button on eBay?’ Emily said now. ‘You could say your kid did it, or your dog or something. It must happen all the time.’