A French Pirouette (22 page)

“Thank goodness I’ve found you,” Lucas said. “Brigitte, I’m sorry but Bruno has taken ill.” He glanced at Isabelle listening intently to a message on her phone. “That will be Libby.”

“What’s happened?” Brigitte asked, trying to stop her voice trembling.

“Bruno had a suspected heart attack about half an hour ago.” Lucas put an arm around Brigitte’s shoulders. “I’d rung him to talk about the motor club meeting next week when I heard him collapse. Luckily I managed to alert the
pompiers
and they were there in minutes. He’s in hospital now.”

“I must go to him,” Brigitte said. “Which hospital?”

“For the moment, the one here in town as it was the nearest. I’ll drive you,” Lucas said. He glanced across at Isabelle. “You OK?”

Isabelle nodded.

“Libby said she’d wait at the hospital until we get there.”

Libby was waiting outside the main hospital entrance when Lucas drove up and she hurried over to them.

“Not being a relative I haven’t been allowed in to see him but they’ve said he’s stable,” she told Brigitte and Isabelle. “You two can go straight up.”

Libby watched the two of them disappear into the hospital before turning to Lucas.

“If you hadn’t phoned Bruno when you did…” She shook her head. “Doesn’t bear thinking about.”

“Then don’t,” Lucas said. “Just pray that we got him here in time.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Evie

Since telling Malik she’d dance
Swan Lake
—and swearing him to secrecy over the fact it would be her last performance ever—Evie knew she had to begin her serious exercise routine again. She’d neglected it over the summer doing only the minimum to keep herself flexible, but now she had to ease herself back into the demanding routine that had been a part of her life for so many years.

The main problem though was finding a space to actually dance in. The gîte chairs with a pole secured between them was adequate for barre work and although she did miss having a large mirror to check her positions were correct, it was the space to actually dance she needed. And that space was back in Paris.

Malik phoned every day. His constant refrain: “Please return to Paris. Everything is here for you.”

“I’ll be back for the start of the official rehearsals,” Evie said. “But I really want to stay here for as long as I can. There are a few things to sort out for when I return. Finding somewhere permanent to live for a start.”

Libby had said she was welcome to rent the gîte for as long as she liked but while it was big enough to live in, running a haute couture business from there was not possible.

“The thing is,” she said to Pascal one evening as they sat outside the gîte enjoying a salad supper Evie had prepared, “I’m afraid Malik’s right. I desperately need space to dance in.” She sighed. “I think I have to go back to Paris soon. I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t agreed to dance again. That I could simply stay here and get on with my new life.”

Pascal took hold of her hand. “But then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of seeing you perform, which I am very much looking forward to. Afterwards, I promise you’ll feel free…free as a
papillon
to fly back to me.” He bent down to give Lola, curled up at his feet, a stroke before asking, “If you had somewhere to dance, you stay for how long?”

“Two, maybe three more weeks. Then I’d have ten days to rehearse with the company up in Paris before opening night.”

Pascal nodded thoughtfully. “
D’accord
. Perhaps tomorrow evening I take you to look at a place that might be suitable.”

Evie looked at him hopefully. “You know somewhere? Only the floor will have to be good—wooden like a stage floor.”

“That is why I need to look before taking you to see.”

Evie smiled at him before gently leaning in and kissing his cheek. “
Merci
.” An hour later as she waved Pascal goodbye she found herself praying that wherever Pascal had in mind would be possible. The thought of having to drag herself back to Paris early, not seeing Pascal for weeks and leaving the beginnings of her new life here, wasn’t something she even wanted to think about.

“I do so hope I can use this room Pascal thinks will be suitable,” she said to Libby the next morning. “I feel so comfortable here. Paris—” she shrugged “—it no longer feels like my home. I know going back will only be temporary but I wish it wasn’t necessary.”

Libby smiled sympathetically. “I understand. When I’d made the decision to buy the auberge, I just wanted it to happen instantly.”

“Have you heard how Bruno is?” Evie asked.

“Brigitte says he should be home next week—with instructions to take it easy and a diet sheet.”

Evie’s mobile on the table between them beeped. “Excuse me for a moment, it’s Pascal.”

“This evening I collect you at seven o’clock and show you the floor I promised you. I think it is good. Then we walk Lola.” He hesitated before adding, “And then my mother has asked us to have supper with her.”

“Just us? Not any of her friends this time? OK. See you later,” Evie said, pulling a face at Libby as she pressed the off switch.

“Problem?” Libby asked.

“Marquisa has issued a supper invitation for this evening.” She sighed. “I hope it’s nothing like her dinner party.”

Evie climbed into Pascal’s Land Rover that evening to be greeted affectionately by both Pascal and Lola. Pascal, she was relieved to see, was casually dressed in jeans and a pale blue linen shirt. Hopefully this meant her own casual outfit of white cropped trousers and a Breton sweatshirt would pass tonight’s supper dress code.

Pascal surprised her by driving straight to his home, but instead of parking he drove on round to the back of the house and followed another track for a short distance before stopping in front of a stone barn out of sight of the main house.

“My father used this as his studio and as the estate office. Me, I do not need a studio and I prefer my office in the
pépinière
.” Turning a key in the large wooden door he pushed it open and Evie stepped inside.

The empty interior stretched away from her for forty feet with a high, black-beamed open ceiling but it was the wooden floor that made her gasp with delight.

“This is perfect,” she said smiling at Pascal. “If I can rig up a barre as well, I can practise everything I need to in here. My pointe work, bourrée and all les fouettés I’ll need for
Swan Lake
.” She did an experimental twirl into the middle of the barn. “The space is wonderful.”

“And afterwards you use it for your business, yes? We can fit it out with shelves and tables—even a small boutique at one end.”

“Really? Marquisa would let me?”

“Of course. She suggested it.” Pascal looked at his watch. “Time to walk Lola before supper.” Locking the barn behind them, Evie followed Pascal down the path towards a small wood before a stretch of open countryside.

“Your land?” she asked, as Pascal threw a ball for Lola to chase and fetch.

Pascal nodded. “I rent it out to a local farmer these days.”

“How much land do you actually have?” Evie suspected Pascal and his mother were wealthier than she’d thought.

“Now, about three thousand hectares. We sold some off when my father died to pay tax and things. Ideally I’d like to sell about half of what’s left—the
pépinière
is enough for me but mother won’t hear of it.”

Marquisa was waiting for them when they returned to the house. “Suzette, welcome,” she said, kissing Evie on both cheeks. “I was hoping you’d call in and see me after the dinner party but Pascal he tells me you have been busy.”

“There is a lot to sort before I return to Paris,” Evie said, resisting the urge to tell Marquisa to please call her Evie. She’d only ignore the instruction anyway if what Pascal had said was correct.

“You like the barn? It is suitable for you to practise dancing in?”

“Thank you. It’s perfect,”

“
Bon
,” Marquisa said. “It will be good to have the studio in use again.”

Chapter Thirty

Libby

Libby walked down through the village towards Brigitte and Bruno’s, struggling to make Hope behave on the end of the lead and to stop pulling. Lucas had given her a couple of lessons and already the puppy was responding—especially when Lucas was holding the lead.

“Hope, heel,” she said sternly. Maybe it had been a mistake to bring the boisterous puppy when Bruno was only recently home. Still, it would be a quick visit—she didn’t want to tire Bruno out and she also needed to get home to prepare supper. None of the auberge guests wanted dinner this evening so she’d invited Evie and Pascal to join her and Lucas for supper.

As she struggled to open the
mas
gate, holding her shopping bag containing a book and some magazines for Bruno, and Hope’s lead in the same hand, Brigitte appeared to help.

“Bruno is in the garden,” she said.

“Not working I hope?” Libby asked. “How is he?”

Brigitte laughed. “No he is not working. I have him tied to a chair under the pergola! As for how he is—he does not make a good patient. But the doctors say he must take it easy for some weeks. Otherwise…” She shrugged. “I don’t want another scare so I make him behave.”

Bruno was pleased to see her and made a fuss of Hope before telling Libby to let her off the lead. “Can’t come to any harm here.”

“You’re looking better,” Libby said handing him the books and magazines. “Sorry—I was warned chocolates weren’t allowed.”

“Shame,” Bruno said. “You could always sneak me a box later! But these look interesting. Thank you.”

“Isabelle not around today?” Libby asked.

Brigitte shook her head. “She’s gone to meet Laurent from Brest airport. Tomorrow they go to the
notaire
to finalise the house.”

“Chloe phoned last night. Her internship has finished so she’ll be coming down to stay until college starts,” Libby said. “I’m looking forward to having her here for a few weeks.”

“Now the summer is finishing, you have the time to enjoy her company,” Brigitte said. “Tell me, Libby, the summer? How has it been for you? You like living in France? Enjoy running the auberge?”

“It’s been brilliant. I’m so glad I came,” Libby said. “Bit worried about how quiet life is going to be in winter but I’m sure I’ll find plenty of things to do.”

“Lucas he will keep you from being bored,” Brigitte said, laughing at the look on Libby’s face. “And Evie too. How is she? Marquisa frightened her off Pascal?”

Libby shook her head. “No. Marquisa thoroughly approves of their relationship. I think she’s basking in the reflected glory of having someone famous in the family.”

Bruno nodded. “Pascal was here earlier. I’ve never seen him so happy.”

Later, walking home along the canal path, Libby remembered her ‘it’s been brilliant’ response to Brigitte’s question about enjoying life in France and the auberge. To think less than a year ago she was filled with trepidation about moving to a foreign country to start a new life on her own. Wondering whether it would turn out to be a mistake and she’d end up returning to England, a sadder and wiser woman.

Well, it hadn’t been a mistake. She was definitely wiser but sadder didn’t enter into the equation. Despite a few wobbly moments along the way, particularly when Chloe had unexpectedly returned to England, she was totally happy with the way her French life was turning out. Her French had improved no end too thanks to using it every day. Three years ago she wouldn’t have believed it if anyone had said to her, “You will be happy again.”

Lucas rang to warn her he would be late as evening surgery was busy so as the sun set and the air turned chilly, Libby set the kitchen table for supper and placed some candles in the centre. Home-made tapenade on savoury biscuits and a basket of garlic bread would keep everyone’s hunger pangs at bay until Lucas arrived.

Evie was full of plans for her return to Brittany when she and Pascal walked over from the gîte.

“While I’m in Paris, Pascal is going to arrange for the conversion of the barn and I’m going to fit in as much material buying as I can. I expect I’ll have to flit back and forth for a few weeks but I can’t wait to start organising things here. Have to sell the Paris apartment too.” Evie sighed. “It’s going to be months before everything is sorted.”

“You’ll be so busy time will fly,” Libby assured her, remembering how quickly the days/weeks had gone before her own move. “Just concentrate on one thing at a time. Dancing first, then afterwards everything else will fall into place.”

“I know you are right,” Evie said. “I return to Paris next week to start rehearsals.”

Lucas arrived then and Libby took the large lasagne she’d made earlier out of the oven, urging everyone to help themselves.

Pascal glanced across at Libby and Lucas before saying, “You two are coming up for the last night, aren’t you? I’ve booked a box and arranged the tickets. I was hoping Brigitte would come too but she says she can’t leave Bruno overnight.”

“Oh, Pascal, thank you. It’s a lovely idea but—” Libby said.

Lucas interrupted her protests. “Definitely. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll book a locum for the weekend.” He turned to Libby. “Chloe will be here to take care of Hope and any late guests. Time in Paris will be perfect for our first time away together.”

“Please come, Libby,” Evie said quietly. “It would be wonderful knowing my new best friend was in the audience.”

“And I long to show you the Paris I know,” Lucas said.

Libby smiled. “How can I refuse? Thank you, Pascal. We’ll be there.

Chapter Thirty-One

Evie/Suzette

Evie stood on the small balcony outside her apartment listening to the noise of the early morning rush-hour traffic as she looked at and gently fingered the ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.

Her engagement ring from Pascal. He’d stunned her by producing it two evenings ago as they’d arrived back at the gîte after spending the evening together dining at her favourite restaurant on the lake at Huelgoat.

Three large diamonds in an antique setting. It had fitted perfectly. “It was my grandmother’s. If you don’t like it we can choose another one together but I know she’d adore the thought of my wife wearing it.”