A French Pirouette (11 page)

It was nearly lunchtime before Suzette had completed her material purchases so she hailed a cab to take her to the Marché des Enfants Rouges where she intended to indulge in one of her favourite meals,
cornet végétarien
, prepared by one of the market’s regular stallholders.

Waiting and watching as her favourite
galette
was being cooked and filled she began to exchange her usual banter with the cook. To her surprise while he was friendly enough he didn’t really engage with her like he usually did.

It wasn’t until she sat eating her salad-filled
galette
that she realised why. He hadn’t recognised her. She was wearing her Evie wig. As far as he was concerned she was just a passing customer, not one of his regulars. Suzette smiled to herself. She was beginning to enjoy going incognito. It certainly made a change from being asked for her autograph whenever she was recognised.

Once back in the apartment Suzette placed the materials in the case, along with some candles she’d been unable to resist in the Marché des Enfants Rouge. Then, after pouring herself a glass of wine, she stepped out onto the balcony with a happy sigh. Once she’d become acclimatised again to the hustle and bustle of city life she’d enjoyed herself. She was looking forward though to getting back to Brittany and the peace and quiet that surrounded the auberge.

Tomorrow she’d give the concierge a large stamped envelope and ask him to forward her post to Brittany for the next couple of months. She’d need to swear him to secrecy and make him promise not to give out the address to anyone. A bribe of a larger Christmas bonus than usual should do the trick.

Later that evening as she was finishing her packing ready to leave in the morning, her mobile rang. Suzette answered it without even glancing at the caller ID. She knew instinctively it was Malik.

“You are talking to me then,” he said. “How’s country life?”

“Actually I’ve been in Paris for the past few days,” Suzette said. “I needed to pick some things up.”

“Haven’t changed your mind about hibernating for the summer then?”

“No.”

“I’m back from Geneva late on Monday. Any chance you’ll still be around?”

“Afraid not,” Suzette said. “I’m off early tomorrow. How did it go? Sponsorship deal going ahead?”

“One or two little details to sort but yes, will all be signed by the end of the week.”

“I’m pleased for you,” Suzette said. “Can you say more or is it still hush-hush?”

“Tell you all about it when we next see each other,” Malik said. “Any idea when that’s likely to be?”

“
Non
. At least a couple of weeks,” Suzette said. She heard Malik sigh.

“Rehearsals for
Swan Lake
will start first week in September so you’d better be back by then. You are exercising and at least doing some barre work, aren’t you?”

Suzette heard the anxiety in his voice and crossed her fingers as she said, “Yes, I’m exercising.” No point in telling Malik how painful her ankle was after one session at the barre and a day walking around Paris.

“I’ll phone you next week to see how you are,” Malik said. “Promise me no more ignoring my calls.”

“I promise,” Suzette said. “Just don’t hound me. I really and truly need the time and space to decide what the future holds for me.”

Chapter Eleven

Libby

Libby had to admit having Helen around to lend a hand with the routine auberge chores was a big help. With so many breakfasts to prepare, serve and clear up afterwards though, it was nearly eleven o’clock Sunday morning before Libby was able to begin to relax for the day. She’d promised to show Helen around a local beauty spot followed by lunch at a riverside restaurant.

Libby took the sight of the sun trying to break through the clouds just as they were leaving for Châteauneuf-du-Faou as an auspicious sign and folded down the roof on Bella before they set off.

“This holiday is going so quickly,” Helen said as Libby negotiated one of the many bends in the road leading down to the small town.

“That’s probably because I’ve been working you so hard,” Libby said. “I’m sorry.”

“No. It’s been fun. I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. It’s a beautiful part of France. Oh look at that chateau across the valley,” Helen said. “It’s pink.”

Libby laughed. “That’s Trévarez—known locally as The Pink Chateau for obvious reasons. Don’t think we’ve got time to go there today. Next time you’re over we’ll go. You’ll love exploring the grounds. Peter would be interested in the chateau’s wartime history too I think.”

Libby parked in the centre of the small town and they had a coffee at a flower-decorated pavement café before returning to the car and heading down the long hill to the river. Before starting their walk alongside the river, Libby booked a table for lunch at one of the waterside restaurants.

“Right—let’s work up an appetite,” she said, moving to one side of the path to let a woman with two excited border collies on leads pass. “We’ll go this way.”

They stopped to watch a group of young boys launch canoes and, with lots of encouraging shouts to each other, begin to head upstream. Libby and Helen stood for a few moments longer, letting two cyclists and a jogger pass before moving on. As the path followed the river and wound away from the houses they heard a series of barks and yapping in a field bordering the path. A large notice by the entrance proclaimed it to be the local dog-training session.

A dozen or so women were standing in a long line, each with a dog at their side. One by one the dogs were paraded up and down the line in an effort to try and convince the instructor they were well behaved.

“Isn’t that your vet boyfriend?” Helen asked indicating the instructor, who was standing apart from the line watching and occasionally offering a quiet word of advice. “Think he’s got quite a fan club going there with women of a certain age. There isn’t another man in sight.”

Libby nodded. “Yes it’s Lucas. But he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Well he did ask you out,” Helen said. “Still can’t understand why you didn’t accept.”

“Like I told you and him—I’m too busy.” Libby laughed as a young border collie slipped its collar and made straight for Lucas, jumping up and down and running around him. “I’d love a dog again,” she said, watching the collie and remembering Tess, the dog who’d been a part of their family for over fourteen years. She, Chloe and Dan had all been devastated when Tess had died—just six months before Dan himself. “Maybe I’ll look out for one when summer is over and I’ve got more time.”

“Then you can join this class and Lucas can help you train it,” Helen teased her. “Look he’s seen us.”

Acknowledging Lucas’s wave with one of her own and a friendly smile Libby said, “Come on, let’s leave them to it and get back to the restaurant.” She wished Helen would stop going on about her getting together with Lucas. As far as she was concerned that was a definite no-no although she was grateful for his help with the car.

She decided not to remind Helen about the chocolate cake she’d promised to make Lucas as a thank you for helping with the car. Helen was sure to tease her. It was bad enough that for some stupid reason since he’d helped her with purchasing Bella, she was starting to feel self-conscious every time she saw Lucas these days.

If she did get a dog in a few months, she’d train it herself. No way would she join this Sunday morning fan club of Lucas’s.

Twenty minutes later they were sitting at their table, glasses of rosé in hand, studying the menu.

Helen looked at Libby.

“It’s good to see you looking happy again. You are happy, aren’t you? I mean I know you miss Chloe and Dan of course but you’re building a new life for yourself here.” Helen sighed. “I’m quite envious actually.”

“Envious? Oh Helen, please don’t be. Yes I am happy here but I still miss Dan. I’d love it to be the two of us running the auberge. Living our dream together.” She glanced at Helen. “Promise me when you get back you’ll talk to Peter. Get him to take things easier. You need to start living whatever dreams the two of you have—before it’s too late. Like it was for Dan and me.”

Chapter Twelve

Brigitte

Brigitte was at the bottom of her garden creating a small border and planting some bedding plants around the olive tree when Isabelle arrived.

Delighted to see her, she stood up to give her a hug, before stepping back and looking at her. “You look well,” she said. “Positively blooming. How is Laurent? Am so sorry he hasn’t come with you.”

“He’s fine. Just very busy at work. Sends his love.”

Brigitte smiled. “You were very mysterious on the phone with Bruno—what’s this visit all about?” She didn’t mention the phone calls that had gone unanswered. The quicker they got any bad news out of the way the better but Isabelle shook her head.

“Later. Need to talk to you both. This garden will be amazing when you’ve finished,” she said looking around.

“Thank you,” Brigitte said stifling a sigh. Needing to talk to them both didn’t bode well. “Come on, let’s go and get you settled in. I’ve put you in the big room at the back that used to be Grandma’s. I hope you like it.”

“It’s weird coming here and not to the auberge,” Isabelle said as they made their way up the stairs. “I nearly gave the taxi driver the wrong address. Are you settled and happy here now? And how’s Libby coping at the auberge?”

“Libby’s well. I couldn’t have sold to a better person. She has a full house this week and is loving it,” Brigitte said. “And yes, I think I’m settled and happy here now.” Whether she was to remain happy or not depended on what Isabelle wanted to talk about.

It wasn’t until later that evening when they were all sitting around the table under the loggia having dinner that Isabelle finally broached the subject of her visit—and that was only after Bruno had asked.

“So
ma petite
, why are you here? And more importantly why are you here alone?”

Brigitte held her breath waiting for Isabelle to reply.

“It’s Laurent,” Isabelle began. “He’s been promoted at work and will be doing a lot more travelling—Italy,
Angleterre
and even India on occasions. He’ll be away for weeks at a time.”

Brigitte watched her as she fiddled nervously with the salad on her plate. So did Laurent’s absence on business mean that Isabelle was giving up on her marriage?

“Are you and Laurent separating?” Brigitte demanded. She couldn’t bear the suspense a moment longer.

“
Non!
Whatever gave you that idea? It’s just that Laurent’s work HQ will be based in Paris now so even when he is not travelling he will have to spend his time there and not in Nice.

“So we’ve, or rather I’ve decided and Laurent has agreed, that I’m going to move back to Bretagne rather than stay down south alone for weeks at a time. He knows I’ve never really settled down there. That I would prefer to be near family.”

Brigitte let out a huge sigh of relief.

“Where are you going to live?” Bruno asked.

“That’s why I’ve come up to start looking for a house and to ask a favour.” She took a deep breath. “Can we—well it will be mainly me on my own at first—please live with you for a few months while I find somewhere?”

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Bruno said with a straight face. “Your mama and me have got used to being alone.”

“Bruno. Stop that nonsense this minute!” Brigitte said. “Now is not the time to tease.” She smiled as she looked at Isabelle. “I can’t think of anything we’d like better. Of course you can stay here while you house-hunt. Stay as long as you like.”

“Your mama is right,” Bruno said. “It will be like old times having you here. How long are you staying this visit?”

“Laurent is in Italy at the moment, due back next week. I’ll need to be back home by then so about five days. I’m going to start registering with local estate agents and begin to find out what’s available.

“There is one more thing,” Isabelle said looking at Brigitte. “I’m hoping to persuade one of you to come down south for a few days and help me pack up the house ready for moving. I could do with the help.”

“We could both come and have a
vacance
at the same time,” Bruno said.

Brigitte looked at him. A
vacance
. Didn’t he remember how much work was involved in moving just from the auberge to here? A holiday it wasn’t. And Nice was a thousand kilometres away.

“What?” Bruno said seeing the expression on her face.

“Surely you remember how stressful moving is?” she said.

“Of course I do. But we could go down early and have a few days holiday before starting the packing. We could both do with some sun.”

“It’s a great idea, Dad,” Isabelle said. “Come back with me and I can show you Antibes, Cannes and Monaco—all the fun places—before we start packing the house up.”

“It would be our first summer holiday in I don’t know how many years,” Bruno said. “Never had the opportunity to go down south in the summer before. You were always busy with the auberge being so popular.”

Brigitte looked at him. This was the second time Bruno had mentioned he’d missed going away for summer holidays because she was so busy with the auberge. He’d always seemed happy with the various long weekends they’d taken—usually in winter she had to admit.

And Isabelle? Intuition told her that Isabelle wasn’t telling them the full story behind her desire to come back home. Maybe over the next few days she’d relax and share the rest of her news.

“
D’accord
. I give in.” Brigitte smiled. “We will have a family holiday before the hard work starts.”

“
Bon
. That’s settled,” Bruno said. “A
vacance
in the south of France. It will do us good.”

Chapter Thirteen

Libby

“Are you sure you don’t mind helping me clean the gîte? It is the last day of your holiday,” Libby asked Helen.

With their house purchase finally sorted, the Chambers had left and Libby needed to clean and prepare the gîte ready for Evie’s return. “I still feel as though I’m imposing on you.”

“Don’t be silly,” Helen said. “I’ve got the reward of an hour or two at the village fete this afternoon to look forward to.”