Amour Provence (6 page)

Liliane climbed the steps and took Berti in her arms. “Go on to your picnic. I'll handle your father. He'll be much too involved with his guests to pay attention to your absence.” Then Liliane motioned to Filou. “You haven't been scared away, I hope? Let's go inside and have our coffee.”

As soon as Liliane poured out three espresso cups and added a touch of cream to Berti's, the phone rang. “The
préfecture
is finally getting in touch.” Liliane laughed.

“I'll get it,” said Berti. There was only one telephone in the house, located in the salon. In a moment, Berti was back. “I guess I won't be going out today after all. Eva's Deux Chevaux won't start and her parents won't let her use their car.”

“I'll be happy to drive you,” said Filou, who had downed his coffee in one gulp. “I'm working at Madame de Laubry's today. She doesn't mind when I come and go. Later I'll bring you all home.”

When Berti left the room to telephone Eva, Liliane said, “And after that, you'll go straight to Pierrette and beg forgiveness on your knees. Understood?”

Filou's brow creased again as he wondered how exactly that might be done with any success.

Liliane packed up the cake she'd made, and as she handed it to Berti, said, “Please be careful, the Toulourenc can get wild this time of year.”

“You know I don't like deep water,
Maman
. Besides, the river is probably too cold to even put a toe in.”

Outside, the sun was surrounded by a bright aureole in a slightly misty sky.

When they got to Filou's
camionnette
, Berti sighed. “I've really had enough. If it wasn't for my mother, I would have run away long ago the way Marguerite did.”

Filou put his hand on the girl's shoulder. “You know, Berti, good things come with the bad. You have a lovely mother, and don't forget that together your parents have made the domaine successful. That means a great deal. I grew up with nothing—no father, no money, and I hardly ever saw my mother, who worked all the time. You're lucky, you know, even if Clément can be an ogre!”

The breeze blew through the open windows as they rolled over hills covered with rows and rows of budding grapevines.

“Will you be going to university when you finish up at school?” Filou asked.

“I'd flunk out in the first semester!”

“I hear Eva and Sébastien are going up to Grenoble. You're at least as smart as they are!”

“They know what they want to study. I don't.”

“Why not take courses in viticulture? After all, you already know quite a bit about growing wine.”

“And work for my father at the domaine? Never! I'm going to Scotland in June.
Maman
has a cousin there who will hire me, at least for the summer.”

“Doing what?”

“He owns a restaurant.”

When Filou spotted Eva with her boyfriend, Sébastien, he pulled over to the side of the road. Eva threw her backpack
in behind him and gave Filou a kiss. “
Merci mille fois!
Seb and I had given up hope of going!”

“Yes, you saved the day!” Sébastien declared. Filou wished the saving of his own day would be so easy, but the youngsters' gaiety perked him up. Filou wasn't one to brood or stay unhappy for long.

“I made a pâté for the picnic,” said Eva in her throaty voice. “It's absolutely the best thing I've ever cooked!” She was not a pretty girl, but she had a way about her, and that marvelous voice simply forced them all to smile.

They drove past the ruined château of Entrechaux and then into the neighboring region of the Drôme, where Mont Ventoux rose up nearly two kilometers into a sky the color of a pale sapphire flame. Going down into the valley Filou asked, “So who is going to be there today?”

“Oh, just some kids from school,” Berti replied.

“She's not telling the whole truth.” Eva brought her face close to Filou's and said sotto voce, “Berti has a date!”

“Please don't mention that to anyone, Filou!” Berti pleaded.

“Of course not. But who are you meeting? Is it your old friend Didier Falque?”

“No,” said Berti. “I hardly ever see Didi anymore since he went to work in his father's vineyard.”

“Then who is it?”

This time it was Sébastien who leaned forward and said, “Gautier Marcassin.”

“Not the guy who plays music at the disco!” said Filou. “He's not your type, Berti.”

“It's none of your business. Especially you, Seb!” Berti said, turning around to glare at her friend.

“Marcassin's too old for you! He must be thirty,” said Filou. “And he doesn't have the best reputation.”

“What do you mean?”

“Apart from working weekends at the discotheque, as far as I know the only thing he does is sell marijuana.”

“But he's a
bel homme
—and so sexy!” Eva piped up. “Since he danced with Berti last Saturday, she's talked of nothing else!”

It wasn't lost on Filou that at one point in his life he might have been very happy to attract a pretty young thing like Berti. But he also knew that someone like Gautier Marcassin would stop at nothing once he had her in his clutches. Even Filou, who was at heart a gentle and sympathetic person, had at one time believed that under certain conditions a man had the right to take what he wanted from a woman whenever and however he could get it. He didn't want Berti to find herself in a bad situation.

As they drove toward the river, Berti turned to Filou and said, “Even if Gautier does come today, and I'm not sure he will, I'm afraid that I should really be home for that wine tasting this afternoon. I don't want
Maman
to have to take the blame if my father notices I'm not there.”

“That's fine with me,” said Filou, pleased that he'd so easily be able to rescue Berti. “I'll finish early today anyway. The work I have shouldn't take long.”

The road became steep during the final descent into the river valley, and hairpin turns made it tough going. Filou
jammed the clutch of his
camionnette
into second gear. When he turned off for the river, the route changed from rutted tarmac into packed earth, and the truck eventually bumped up onto a weedy patch overlooking the water. There was already a small group of kids milling around below. Most of them were from the lycée
,
but a few older boys were there too. Manu Dombasle, a husky young man in his twenties, stood apart, lobbing stones into the river. He'd become dull and thuggish since his father had been killed in a hunting accident two years before. Even their mother, the widow Sabine, didn't seem to pay much attention to her only son. But Filou forgot about Manu when Gautier Marcassin roared up on a black motorcycle and parked under a tree. Marcassin's long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, just the way Filou had once worn his own hair, and he had on a sleeveless shirt that revealed the tattoo of a scorpion on his upper arm. He was dressed in jeans and the usual heavy black boots of a biker.

Berti jumped out of the car and Marcassin came over and kissed her on both cheeks. Filou once again felt angry that a man that age would find it appropriate to associate with mere children. He looked at the young faces of the girls waiting by the riverside and wondered if anyone else would be prey to the good-looking ruffian. Marcassin was nothing but a transient, someone passing through, who would move on when he'd made too many mistakes, or too many enemies. Filou thought of things he could say to scare him off, but he knew it would be time wasted. The man would pay him no mind. Besides, he had the roof to finish and the problem of Pierrette that he must allow to percolate in his mind.

“Okay,
je me casse
. I'm going,” Filou said in a loud voice so Gautier Marcassin would hear. “I'll see you later.” Then he leaned over to Sébastien and whispered, “Keep an eye on Berti and that cretin!”

Standing next to Gautier, Berti watched Filou's truck make its way up the road. But when Gautier grabbed her hand, saying, “Why don't we take a walk upriver and find a nice spot. We'll lead the way,” she felt an unaccountable shyness.

“I have to change my shoes first.” She slipped out of his grasp, still surprised to be singled out by someone like Gautier, who had always gone for older girls, girls who were free to do as they pleased and didn't have parents who expected them home at a certain hour. He stood close to her as she pulled off her sandals, and she noticed his strong flat chest and the way his jeans hung around his hips. Her heart beat faster and she took her time lacing her sneakers, hoping he wouldn't notice the flush that she felt creeping up the sides of her face.

“Ready now?” Gautier asked. He held out his hand to her, a hand that felt dry, so different from the usual sweaty palms of the boys her age. They slid down the sandy embankment as if it were soft snow.

On the riverbank, Berti's school friends surrounded her, giving her the
bise
, which for adolescents meant several kisses on each cheek. Gautier must have grown impatient because he began to walk ahead. As he got farther away, Berti felt as if she'd lost an opportunity. He probably wasn't
really interested in her after all. Well, it wasn't important, she told herself.

She continued on with her friends up a gentle rise, cleaving to the shallows, but the melting mountain springs had swelled the Toulourenc, causing it to overflow its banks. In places the river rushed so fast that the breaking waters looked like silvery fish leaping over the gray and white stones. Behind her, Manu Dombasle was again busy tossing rocks into the water. When a big one landed near enough to splash her, Berti turned and said, “Stop your silly games, Manu!”

“Just because you think you're such a big girl now, I can't have fun?” Manu shouted.

Berti let it pass and simply picked up her pace to get out of range. Ahead, she saw Gautier wading in the shallows, his boots off and backpack slung over his shoulder. The water skimmed just below his rolled-up jeans. When she caught up, he fell into step next to her.

“Do you like it here by the river, Gilberte?” She was surprised that he'd called her by her given name, since everyone, at least everyone her age, called her by her nickname. Maybe he was just being formal, or maybe he didn't realize she was called Berti. After all, they hardly knew each other.

The river flooded into her canvas sneakers as they veered into deeper water, and Berti replied, “It's too cold!” Gautier took her arm. The current eddied around her ankles and made them ache, but she ignored the discomfort, enjoying the feeling of his body close to hers. As they strode along together, a sort of excited weakness pervaded her. She regretted that she and Gautier were not alone and that the day was to be spent with her classmates.

Small stones rolled into her shoes and she tried to kick them out from between her toes, making the water splash. Gautier laughed as if he thought she was just having fun. For a long time they kept a steady pace, barely speaking, but when she began to limp, he said, “Are you getting tired? We'll stop soon.” She turned and noticed that they had been moving along at such a clip that even Seb and Eva were out of sight. She'd never been this far upriver and didn't recognize anything, not the tall rocks that rose up beneath the silvery shadow of Mont Ventoux, or the dark swaths of conifers that grew up on either side of them. Gautier led her to an embankment where the ocher-red soil was soft with decayed pine needles. There he turned her toward him and she felt a wild thrill when he began to kiss her.

“Let's go,” he finally said. “There are some places I want to show you.”

Tiny pebbles filtered into her shoes again and the bottoms of her feet became abraded and sore, but she managed to keep up. At the next bend in the river they mounted the side of a waterfall and all at once Berti found herself standing at the edge of large, perfectly clear pool. Around the edges, white flowers on needle-thin stems were reflected like stars in the water. Beneath them small rainbows played faintly around the tumbling cascade. Gautier ran a hand through her hair. “What do you think?” he asked.

Berti could only nod, afraid he might suggest that they swim, but he surprised her and said, “There's something just ahead. Come on.”

“Maybe we should wait until my friends come.” Berti laid her satchel on the ground.

“It's just a few minutes away. If you like it, I'll take you back later.” Berti knew there would be no later, since Filou was coming, so she acquiesced, and after dumping the pebbles out of her sneakers, let him lead her beyond the river and into the wood. They came upon a steep cliff face and Gautier scrambled up. Berti tried to stay close behind, but her wet sneakers kept slipping on the rocks. Sometimes he'd grab her arm and impatiently hoist her up.

Eventually, they found themselves on a landing where the abundant trees obscured any view of the Toulourenc below. Berti looked down over the cliff and felt a vertiginous pull, as if she might fall straight down. She wondered how she would manage to descend. Perhaps Gautier knew an easier route and he had been testing her to see if she was strong enough to make it up there.