A Year at the French Farmhouse(41)

‘As long as you’re sure.’

‘Yes, she literally said the more the merrier.’

‘That was nice of her.’

‘Mind you, eating that poor chicken,’ Lily added, with a grimace. ‘Not sure if I have the stomach for it.’

‘I hate to break this to you, but you’re a carnivore, my love,’ said Emily, ‘you had a chicken sandwich for lunch!’

‘Yes, but that was some random, anonymous chicken,’ said Lily. ‘This is… well, it feels different.’

‘The chickens you usually eat are probably scrawny little mistreated things. At least this one had a proper life…’

‘Yes, but isn’t that worse somehow? She was probably happy. Fantasising about the many years of pecking ahead…’

‘You know that’s irrational, don’t you?’ Emily said. ‘Especially as you, Madame, have chosen la French country life, eh!’ she continued, dropping into a faux French accent. ‘It iz what zey do ’ere.’

‘I’m proud of my irrationality. It’s what makes me mysterious and unpredictable,’ joked Lily.

‘Idiot.’

When Chloé answered the door, somehow managing to look elegant and well-dressed despite wearing ripped jeans and a simple black blouse, the smell that followed her from the kitchen was delicious.

‘Bonjour, welcome!’ she said. ‘It iz almost ready.’

‘Hi, Chloé, this is Emily,’ Lily said as she entered.

‘’ello, Emily,’ Chloé said, with a smile. ‘It iz nice for to meet you.’

‘Yes. You too.’ The pair of them went through the small dance that sometimes happens when people aren’t sure how to greet each other; leaning in for a kiss, but abruptly changing course; sticking out a hand for a shake, then retracting it. In the end, Emily just leaned forward and gave Chloé a hug and they both laughed.

‘See,’ she said. ‘We’re friends already.’

Chloé smiled. ‘Yes, so it seem.’

She showed them through to the dining room, where she’d set the table with a burgundy tablecloth and a porcelain centrepiece, fashioned into the shape of delicate flowers.

‘Oh, it looks beautiful!’ said Lily. ‘You needn’t have gone to any trouble.’

‘It iz no trouble, just dinner, uh? We ’ave to eat, and it iz better together. And if we do it, it is just as well to make it look beautiful, non?’

‘And look, thanks for having me,’ Emily said. ‘It’s really nice of you.’

‘Pah!’ said their host, flicking her fingers as if swatting a fly. ‘It iz nothing.’

They took seats at the table, and Chloé poured them each a tiny glass of purple liquid which turned out to be a kind of blackcurrant alcoholic drink.

‘I weel be with you soon, oui?’ Chloé said, once they were settled. ‘I just go to poke le chick.’

‘Wow,’ said Emily, leaning forward across the table once the door closed. ‘You didn’t tell me she was so…’

‘So what?’ Lily prompted, feeling strangely protective as she noted her friend’s serious expression.

‘Gorgeous? Friendly?’ Emily said.

‘Which is good, right?’ Lily replied, still unable to read Emily’s tone.

‘Which is brilliant. Seriously.’ Emily took a swig of her blackcurrant drink and made a face. ‘Woah, strong! But yeah, it’s brilliant. I’m seriously happy for you. You’ve already found a new friend – and she’s a definite upgrade from the old model.’ She grinned.

‘What?’

‘Yes,’ Emily continued. ‘I used to wonder what you’d do without me… you know, in France I mean. But now… well…’

‘Don’t be daft. You’re irreplaceable and you know it!’ Lily smiled, putting a reassuring hand on Emily’s arm – not sure if she was joking.

‘No,’ said Emily firmly. ‘No, I’m not irreplaceable.’ Then, ‘And it’s good. It’s a good thing,’ she added hastily. ‘Emily 2.0. Version Fran?aise.’

‘You are so…’

But Chloé entered the room, carrying a casserole dish in carefully gloved hands and Lily lost what she was about to say. ‘Wow,’ she said instead. ‘That smells amazing.’

Chloé smiled at them both then, placing down a trestle, set the dish in front of them.

Lily found, if she suppressed any images of the forlorn murdered hen that popped into her mind, she quite enjoyed the casserole, which was very similar to the ones her mum had used to make. ‘Thank you for this,’ she said to Chloé. ‘It’s delicious.’

‘Mmm, yes,’ agreed Emily, forking a large piece of chicken into her mouth. ‘Tasty.’

‘Merci beaucoup,’ said Chloé, pleased.





Two hours later, they were negotiating the winding route towards Broussas.

‘I cannot believe I went for seconds of that mousse,’ said Emily. ‘You should have stopped me. You’re going to have to roll me out of the car at this rate. I almost definitely can’t walk.’

‘You should have stopped me,’ Lily countered. ‘Honestly, if I carry on like this I’m going to have to buy a bigger house.’