A Year at the French Farmhouse(87)

‘Right, I think we’re all set!’ she said brightly at 9.58 a.m.

At 9.59 a.m., there was a knock on the door.

‘Don’t worry. It’s probably post or something,’ Lily said. She’d ordered a few things online recently and had begun to welcome the morning knock from a postie with a parcel. It was kind of like receiving a present – albeit one you’d paid for.

But it wasn’t the postie.

‘Bonjour, mon coeur!’ Frédérique appeared on the doorstep with an enormous bunch of flowers. ‘You are looking so very beautiful this morning, eh?’ He was smartly dressed in black jeans and a white shirt, his hair glistening with gel.

‘Oh, Frédérique,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, we’re just going…’

He stepped into the house, and held out the flowers for her to take. ‘They’re beautiful,’ she said, giving them an obligatory sniff. They were freshly cut white lilies, scattered with another pink flower she didn’t recognise. ‘You really shouldn’t have.’

‘I don’t understand,’ he said, his brow furrowing. ‘You want that I don’t bring you flowers? Per’aps you have le hay fever?’

‘Oh, no. I was… it’s just an expression,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I love them. Thank you.’

‘Ah, but you are welcome, my love.’ He looked at her affectionately.

Ty wandered through with his bag, his face visibly dropping when he saw who the visitor was.

‘And it is the son!’ Frédérique exclaimed. ‘He, er, il s’en va… leaves, oui?’

‘Yeah, don’t worry,’ grunted Tyler. ‘I’m off.’

‘Mais non, I am ’ere not because you are leaving! I am not trying to – how you say – make love to your mother. But to ’elp ’er,’ Frédérique said. ‘She need transport back from the airport and I can drive, non?’

‘Oh, it’s so kind of you,’ said Lily, setting the flowers down on the side and hoping the plastic reservoir of water at the base of the cut stems would be enough to stop them dying while they were out. ‘But honestly I’m fine…’

‘Mais non, what kind of man would I be if I let my lover travel alone?’ Frédérique said, smiling fondly and not really getting the hint. ‘And I fink too, that Tyler ’e will be ’appy to know that ’is mother is safe, oui? Not on a train alone? It is no place for a beautiful lady.’

‘Honestly, I’m perfectly capable of taking a train,’ Lily interrupted, slightly affronted.

Tyler’s neck had reddened at the use of the word ‘lover’ but he stayed silent.

‘Oh, mais oui! Of course! But it is far nicer to sit in a car, eh? To ’ave – how you say – door-to-door service! Today I am not your lover. Think of me as your chauffeur! I am sure your son will be ’appy for this.’

He looked at Tyler, who seemed preoccupied with the zip on his bag and said nothing.

Undeterred, Frédérique turned back to Lily with a smile. ‘So I follow you in the car, yes? And zen I can bring you ’ome after? I take the day off my work to ’elp.’

There wasn’t really much to be said.

On route to the airport, Frédérique drove so closely to the back of the Nissan that every time Lily glanced in the rear-view mirror their eyes locked. Or at least, it felt as if they did.

She tried to concentrate on her son but it was hard to ignore the green eyes boring into her from the reflective surface.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Frédérique… well, he’s being nice. But I had hoped it would just be us…’

‘It’s OK.’

‘It’s not though, is it?’ she said. ‘Look, I know Frédérique has said some… well, some things that sound like we’re serious; but honestly, we’ve only actually been out once or twice. I mean, I like him. But it probably won’t go anywhere really.’ She nearly added it was just a bit of fun, but realised Tyler might find this just as horrifying. ‘It’s the language, I think. We’re not… we’re not lovers, not like that. I think… I’m pretty sure it’s a translation thing.’

Tyler visibly paled. ‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘Really.’

She briefly lifted her hand from the steering wheel and lay it on his. He was grown up now, but still very much her child. She’d read that even when people were well into adulthood, their parents splitting could stir up all kinds of emotions. She couldn’t put her life on hold to spare him, but at the same time she hated the fact that something she was doing was making him so miserable.

It certainly wasn’t how she’d have planned to introduce Frédérique to Tyler. If they’d still been seeing each other when Ty next came, she might have suggested a drink or a meal. Something gradual, subtle.

Frédérique didn’t have any children. Perhaps if he had, he’d have realised that barging into their time together right now hadn’t been the right call. That seeing her son off was something she’d rather do alone.

Perhaps he could have picked her up from the station if he’d wanted. But following them all the way to the airport felt a bit intrusive. It would have been nice to say goodbye to Ty without an audience. But Frédérique just didn’t realise how tricky the situation was for her – her separation from Ben so new, Tyler unused to his mother dating. It wasn’t Frédérique’s fault that he had made things more difficult than they would have been otherwise.