A Year at the French Farmhouse(71)

‘Oh. Why?’

‘Ah, it is nothing. We used to date, many years ago. And she, I think she maybe like me still.’

‘Oh.’ Lily made a face. The last thing she wanted to do was to upset Chloé.

‘It iz OK, she will not ’ate you for speaking wiv me though!’ he said, with a grin. ‘She is juste… it is – how you say? – a bit uncomfortable, awkwardable.’

‘Awkward?’

‘Yes. That is it. We are friends, I think.’

‘OK.’ Lily took a sip from her glass, feeling slightly uneasy. But then if Chloé was an ex of Frédérique’s it was always going to be a bit odd for her to see him on a date. Or something that looked like a date.

She took a deep drink from her glass and wiped her hand over the back of her mouth, only to look up at a pair of amused eyes. ‘What?’ she said.

‘It iz nothing,’ he said. ‘You like the wine, huh?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘Just nervous. It’s difficult, being somewhere new. With new people. Being… I suppose being alone for the first time in ages.’

‘But, Lily,’ he said, taking her hand, ‘you do not ’ave to be alone.’





Two hours later, when they left, Chloé was still there, sipping after-meal coffees with her friends. She looked up as Lily passed, giving her a small, polite wave. But when her eyes rested on Frédérique, Lily saw her expression change and her mouth form a hard, straight line.





24





‘Just breathe,’ he said, nodding his head. ‘Like at the class.’

‘Fuck off,’ she said. ‘You breathe.’

‘OK, OK,’ he said looking over her at the midwife and making a ‘help me’ face.

‘Hubby’s right,’ said the midwife. ‘You need to…’

She trailed off as she caught Lily’s eye. ‘Let me just give you a quick check,’ she said, snapping on a glove. ‘Maybe we’re ready to push…’





Lily was just slipping the first pansy plant from its plastic pot when she heard a shout behind her. ‘Working hard, I see?’

She turned to see Sam, who’d pulled up quietly in her car and wound the window down. In the back of her Fiesta, Lily could see Derek and Claudine both slumped over, asleep in their car seats.

‘Oh, hi!’ she said, slipping the plant back in for a second and wiping the soil from her fingers. ‘Just trying to brighten up the front a bit.’

‘I assume this means the interior is fully renovated?’

‘Of course!’ Lily joked. ‘I’m not trying to avoid doing the hard work at all!’

Sam laughed. ‘We’re just off for the obligatory “get them out of the house they’re driving me mad” excursion,’ she said. ‘Thought I’d pop by to see whether your house is still standing while they’re snoozing.’

‘Thanks.’ Lily grinned. ‘Actually, I’ve had the wall fixed. And slapped some paint on the rest, like you said.’

‘Oh, brilliant. I’d pop in and see, but I daren’t leave these two or they’ll be screaming,’ Sam said. ‘But I’ll stop by next week for a tour if you’re around?’

‘Definitely.’

When Sam had driven off, Lily continued with her planters, enjoying the afternoon sun and making the most of the easy, rhythmic work. She’d actually planned on making a start on the kitchen today – she’d taken delivery of a second-hand dresser this morning and had earmarked the afternoon for cleaning it up and giving it a lick of paint.

But to her surprise, she’d woken up with a hangover. Laying in her makeshift bed, head throbbing, she’d thought back to the evening before. She hadn’t been drunk, but realised that she’d probably put away half a bottle of red. Perhaps that was all it took in your forties?

Either way, the idea of inhaling paint fumes didn’t appeal. Instead, she’d driven to the local supermarket and picked up the pansies, along with a few essentials. It was a reason to get out in the garden, and something she could cope with despite feeling less than on form.

She thought back to the night before. Frédérique had been a gentleman – insisting he paid for the drinks and nibbles, ferrying her back home and making no attempt to come in for coffee. They’d got on well, despite the odd language hiccup, and she’d been surprised how much they had in common. He loved drawing – ‘it iz an ’obby’ he’d said, and was so interested when she told him about her work in graphic design.

She’d told him, too, about her idea to run relaxation retreats, once her renovations were finished, and he’d loved the idea. ‘But it will be such a success for you!’ he’d exclaimed. ‘I can feel it, uh?’

In fact, the only downside of the evening – other than the slightly strange encounter with Chloé – had been the fact that she wasn’t sure whether she was on a date at all for most of it.

Luckily, though, that had also been cleared up. Just as he was about to leave, Frédérique had given her a hug then, pulling back, held his gaze on her face. Instinctively, she’d tilted her lips up to meet his and he’d kissed her softly – with enough intensity and tongue to leave her in no doubt that they’d made a leap out of the friend zone.