A Year at the French Farmhouse(39)

‘Sa langue?’ he said. ‘She ’ave a problem with er mouth, um, her tongue?’

‘No, no,’ Lily said. ‘Her language, she doesn’t speak much French – even less than me.’

‘Oh, I don’t know! I understand you’re talking about negligees and tongues. Do you want me to leave?’ quipped Emily.

‘Emily!’ Lily chastised, feeling her face get hot. She barely knew Claude, and the last thing she wanted to do was to make him feel uncomfortable, or give him the wrong idea.

To her relief, Claude laughed. ‘Ah, she is a joker, yes!’ he said, grinning at Emily. ‘She ’ave the Breetish humour.’

To Lily’s surprise, Emily flushed slightly. ‘J’essaie,’ she said, I try, then glanced at Lily. ‘You’re not the only one who listened in French lessons at school,’ she said.

‘So I see.’

After answering a few questions about what farming life was like in the Limousin – ‘Yes, it is a lot of work’; ‘No, I don’t kill the cows myself’’; ‘Yes, I grow sweetcorn’; ‘Yes, I have three dogs but the little one is my favourite’ – Claude finished his coffee and left, with the promise of coming to help if Lily needed anything else.

‘My word,’ Emily said, when the front door closed. ‘No wonder you’re enjoying the scenery around here.’

‘Emily!’

‘What? The man is bloomin’ gorgeous. And he seems to like you!’

‘Don’t be silly, he’s just being nice. People are… well, the ones I know so far, they seem really lovely. And it was Frédérique who suggested he came. You know, the owner. If anything it’s a favour to him.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I do say so,’ she said, grinning over her lukewarm coffee.

‘Still, those eyes.’

‘I know.’

‘That accent.’

‘Well, you’d be surprised, but lots of people have the same accent around here.’

‘That body…’

‘Em! You didn’t see his body.’

‘No, but I’ve imagined it and believe me, it’s to die for.’

Lily shook her head. ‘God, I’ve missed you, Em.’

‘Glad to hear it. And you too, actually.’ Emily looked suddenly teary.

Lily looked at her friend’s eyes, at the unfamiliar shine of threatened tears. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt something was different about Emily since her arrival. The moment in the car when she’d looked wistful, the slight sadness at the edges of her smile. ‘Are you OK?’ she said.

‘Oh, yes. I just keep tearing up at the moment. Chris reckons it’s peri-menopause, but I’m obviously far too young for that in reality.’

‘Far too young.’ Lily reached out and squeezed Emily’s shoulder. ‘You know, if it’s not… I mean if it’s anything else… if something’s wrong. You know you can…’

‘I know.’ Emily nodded.

There was a silence, but clearly Emily wasn’t about to fill it.

‘Sorry about the lack of furniture by the way,’ Lily said.

‘It’s cool. I like the minimalist look.’

‘Pah! Yes. But it would be nice to sit down occasionally.’

In the end, they spent the next thirty minutes dragging two of the extraordinarily heavy garden chairs in from the newly mowed garden. ‘Let’s leave the table,’ Lily puffed when they were heaving one of them up the single step into the kitchen. ‘I’d rather have to eat on my lap than go to hospital with a hernia.’

‘That sounds like a plan,’ Emily said. ‘But should we drag in a third just in case your boyfriend comes around?’

‘Frédérique?’

‘No,’ Emily said, but raised a quizzical eyebrow at the conclusion Lily had jumped to, ‘although let’s talk more about him later. I was talking about the ridiculously dishy Claude.’

‘Dishy?’

‘I’m trying to expand my vocabulary.’

‘Fair enough. Well, first of all, Claude might be dishy, but he’s really not my type.’

‘Lily, that man is everyone’s type.’

‘Well, he’s easy on the eye, I’ll admit. But seriously not the type of man I usually go for.’

‘Yes, you prefer them slightly more rotund with more of a receding hairline, right?’

‘Ouch!’ Lily said, giving her friend a nudge. ‘That’s a bit mean.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Plus, as far as I’m concerned, I’m not single. Ben and I have been together for over twenty years. You don’t just walk away from a commitment like that.’

‘Um, you kind of have, sweetheart,’ Emily said, plonking the chair down and sliding into it. ‘Fuck, these are uncomfortable.’

‘No, I haven’t,’ Lily said, feeling her throat constrict slightly. She sat down in her own uncomfortable and slightly damp chair. It was heaven to take the weight off her feet, even if it was torture to sit on the hard, metal surface. ‘I know you think I’m mad, but I still think Ben will come round. I just need to show him I’m serious. And maybe show him how great life in France can be…’