A Year at the French Farmhouse(85)

She was just pondering this when a voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘Bonjour!’ it cried loudly.

She looked up, across the road was Frédérique – dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and linen trousers. A slight purple stain at the corner of his mouth revealing he’d had a couple of glasses of red over lunch. He was grinning widely.

She lifted her hand to wave at him before walking on, but he waited for a car to pass then strode determinedly towards them.

Merde.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Frédérique. In fact, she’d been checking her phone for text messages like a lovelorn teenager since their date. It was seeing him with Ty – not knowing how to introduce him and not wanting to upset either of them in doing so. Plus, she’d told him specifically that she didn’t want the pair of them to meet, not yet.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I know you say it’s too soon for us to meet, but I cannot resist to stop and say hello when I see you walking.’

‘It’s OK,’ she said, embarrassed that he was revealing she’d asked him to stay away. ‘Um… This is Ty – my son. Ty… this is my friend, Frédérique.’ She made wild eye contact with Frédérique in the hope that he’d pick up on the fact that she wasn’t ready to come out as anything more.

‘Ah, we are friend, yes!’ Frédérique replied with an elaborate wink, before leaning forward and kissing her proprietorially on the mouth. ‘Very good friends, eh!’

Was he actually doing this on purpose?

‘Enchanté,’ he said, reaching a hand out to Ty, who studiously ignored it. ‘But wait, this cannot be your son. He is a man. You are not old enough to ’ave a child who is grown. Maybe he is a lover, eh? Maybe I should be jealous?’

The humour didn’t land well with either of them. ‘Oh, thank you,’ she said, blushing. ‘But… we’d better…’

‘She’s forty-four,’ said Ty, sullenly. ‘She had me when she was twenty-six.’

‘Mais oui, but she look so young!’ Frédérique continued, not really sensing the tone. ‘She is beautiful, your mother, non? You must be very proud!’

‘Um.’ Ty seemed lost for words.

‘Anyway, we’d better…’ Lily said again, pushing past him slightly and grabbing the sleeve of Ty’s shirt to keep him at her side. ‘We’re… well, I’ll call you – OK?’

‘Oui, for our next date, per’aps?’ Frédérique called after her. ‘The last one, it was perfect. I cannot wait.’

She felt her shoulders stiffen. But resisted the urge to turn and glower at him. It would only make things worse.

They walked to the car silently then slipped in.

‘So who was that?’ Ty said, his tone flat.

‘Frédérique? Well, he’s… he’s a friend, I suppose. A new friend.’

‘A friend you’re dating?’

‘Well, yes. Sorry. Someone I’ve been on a date with. But a friend, too.’

‘Right.’

‘Which is OK, Ty. I mean, I’m single now, right?’ she said, giving him a worried sideways glance.

‘Yep,’ he said, shortly.

She didn’t push him. It was always going to be difficult for him to think of his mum as someone who could go on dates. Especially as he was clearly clinging to some sort of hope for her and Ben.

What had Frédérique been playing at? After her message explaining the situation, to plant a kiss on her mouth, and mention dating in front of Ty – it was as if he was forcing her hand. But surely Frédérique wasn’t like that? Perhaps it was the wine, she told herself. Wine at lunch was never a good idea. Or maybe his lack of subtlety had been a language issue?

As the drive continued in silence she wondered whether she ought to tell Ty that she and Frédérique hadn’t slept together yet. But after constructing the words in her head in several different ways, she concluded that any mention of – or even allusion to – sex was not going to help matters much.

‘I wondered if you might help me this afternoon,’ she said instead, trying to sound bright and cheerful. ‘I’ve found a second-hand car on LeBonCoin and thought maybe you could come and see it with me.’

‘Yep, no problem.’

There was a few minutes’ silence, then she tried again. ‘You know, Ty, I’ll always love your dad.’

He was silent.

‘And Frédérique and I… well, we only went for a meal. It was nothing… really.’

‘It’s OK, it’s none of my business.’

‘Well, it kind of is your business though. And I don’t want you to feel… well, you know.’

‘So,’ he said, ‘what kind of car is it?’





29





‘Don’t forget these,’ Lily said, handing Ty some underwear she’d washed for him.

‘Thanks, Mum.’ He stuffed them into his bag where she suspected they’d be mixing with dirty socks and other sweaty garments and would need another good wash once he unpacked them – probably in a month or so’s time. But it was the thought that counted.