L'amour Actually (38 page)

  'And very married, you wouldn't stand a chance with him,' I whispered back.

  'Maybe not, but it would be fun trying.' Charlotte thrust out her chest and winked at me. 'Don't even think about it,' I warned.

  'So, what do you think of my little corner of France?' I said, changing the subject.

  She thought for a moment. 'The thing is, this is all very lovely,' she swept her arm around, taking in the quaint café and the sleepy little village, 'but it's not really you, is it? I mean, you're a London girl. It's all very well playing at being a French peasant and all that, but at some point you've got to go back. You have no job, you say your savings are practically gone. If you are out of the market in the UK for too long you'll never get back in again.'

  I worked hard to quell my rising annoyance with her. Charlotte and I had been friends for so long and had barely exchanged a cross word, but I was seeing her through new eyes. How had I not noticed her thoughtlessness? Had she always been so self-centred? Or was it just that I had changed since arriving here? I felt a lump in my throat as I realised that we may never again have the closeness we had once shared.

  'Actually Lottie, that's where you are wrong. This is absolutely me. The new me. You know, when I look at you, all I see is how self-centred you are, how judgemental.'

  'Judgemental?' Charlotte exploded. 'Me? Judgemental?'

  'Keep your voice down, if you don't mind,' I chided her, seeing Muffy's head turn in our direction. 'Yes, judgemental. Look how you were with Martine and Laure yesterday. You treated Laure like she was something nasty you had just stepped in and you couldn't wait to leave. You spent the whole time – when you weren't on the phone that is – looking as if you had a bad smell under your nose. Don't think Martine didn't notice. I was mortified.'

  I looked down at my cup of coffee, not meeting Charlotte's eyes. Behind the bar, Claire was bustling around noisily. We were the only people in the café so there was no way that she could have missed the argument. She threw me a sympathetic look.

  Charlotte stared out of the window in silence while I quietly fumed. How dare she come over here and criticise my life and my friends? I felt tears stab at the back of my eyes. I had so been looking forward to her visit and so far it was a disaster. She was the first to break the silence. 'Oh look, a wedding. I wonder who it is?'

  I looked out of the window. Sure enough, at the
mairie
, a crowd had gathered, all dressed in their best threads, the men wearing buttonholes.

  As we watched, the happy bride and groom appeared on the steps and I gasped. I felt sick and my head started to swim. Charlotte looked at me. 'Oh my God, it's him isn't it?' she said, reaching across to take my hand.

  I nodded mutely as Julien leant to kiss his new bride to the cheers of the crowd. At the bar, Claire had stopped what she was doing and was watching me intently, a look of concern on her face. As we watched, the wedding party crossed the square and disappeared into the church for the blessing.

  I had convinced myself I was over Julien d'Aubeville but the pain of his treachery was suddenly as raw and new as it had been months before. I noticed he was still limping from the injuries he had received in the fire though he looked every bit the happy groom. Next to him, Jo looked radiant. My grief hit me head on and I bit my lip, trying not to cry.

  'Come on, darling,' said Charlotte, 'let's go while they are in the church.'

  I shook my head. 'I have to stay,' I whispered.

  'Don't torture yourself like this,' she said, 'please, let's just go.'

  'No,' I snapped, 'I'm staying here.'

  Quietly, Claire slipped a glass of brandy in front of me. 'For the shock. I'm sorry. I should have said something.'

  I stared wordlessly at the door of the church through which they had disappeared.

  'Thanks,' said Charlotte, realising that I was not going to reply.

  Some time later, the bride and groom reappeared on the church steps to the renewed cheers of their guests. They were smiling and laughing for the photographer. Around them, their friends, the same ones who had ignored me for so long, jostled for position in the photographs. I caught sight of Noélia among the guests. Well, that explained a lot. It was the perfect tableau of a French country wedding. A rustic horse and cart, decorated with white ribbons was waiting to whisk them off to wherever they were having their wedding breakfast. Even the pale winter sun had come out to shine on them. The sudden peal of the church bells made me jump. Outside, the happy couple waved to their guests and climbed into their carriage.

  I stood up quickly, knocking the chair over, and ran for the door, a maelstrom of emotions churning around inside my head. Charlotte lunged at me across the table but she wasn't quick enough.

  'Don't,' she called out to me. I went out and stood on the terrace watching the cart as it turned round in the square, passing right by the café, with Julien sitting on the side nearest me. Jo, busy waving to her friends and family, didn't notice me standing there.

  Charlotte appeared next to me and quietly slipped her hand into mine, squeezing it hard. I looked nervously at her. As the cart drew level, Julien looked across in our direction and started slightly when he saw us. I noticed that he did at least have the good grace to look embarrassed although he did try an awkward smile. I watched him, my head following the cart as it made its way past me. Julien shifted uncomfortably in his seat but within seconds he was gone and I was left standing there. Charlotte put her arm around me. 'You OK?'

  'Yes, thanks. I'm fine. Really I am. I just wanted him to acknowledge me.' I felt completely wrung out.

  'Come on, let's go home,' said Charlotte, gently taking my arm.

'Come on, darling, eat up.' Charlotte placed a plate of croissants in front of me then sat down and poured us both a mug of hot chocolate.

  I said nothing but wrapped my hands around the mug and lifted it to my mouth, stopping to blow on it. I still felt shaken. Basil sat on my lap, purring loudly, wondering why I wasn't stroking him. Charlotte buttered a croissant and twisted the top off a jar of apricot jam she had found at the back of cupboard.

  'Eww, what are you doing? Growing the cure for the common cold? You got any more jam?' I shook my head.

  She shrugged. 'Nothing for it then.' She spooned out a thick crust of fluffy, green mould and flicked it into the bin.

  'It's fine underneath. Don't be such a wimp.'

  'She speaks!' smiled Charlotte.

  'Oh, ha ha. Come on, pass me the butter. You have to feed a broken heart don't you? Or is it a cold? Or a fever? Oh well, let's just feed all three.'

  We ate in silence, both lost in our own thoughts; I thought about the events of the morning, aware that Charlotte was watching me surreptitiously, quietly concerned for me. Finally, she broke the silence.

  'So what now?'

  'What do you mean, what now?'

  'Well, you can't stay here can you? Not now.'

  'Why not?' I snapped.

  She came round the table and sat down next to me, putting her arm round my shoulder.

  'You gave it your best shot but this isn't living the dream, with your ex-boyfriend and his new wife just down the road. You'll be running into them all the time. Are you strong enough for that? And what happens when the cottage is sold? You need to be back at home where we can all take care of you, not stuck here in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of wine-soaked expats.'

  I got up, picking up Basil and cuddling his soft, warm body to me and went to the window. From there I could look out over my beloved valley, not looking its best it was fair to say, but still beautiful to me. In spite of everything, I couldn't really imagine being anywhere else.

  'Lottie, I know you don't understand but I love this place. I've changed so much since I moved here that I hardly recognise the person I was. I think I'm much more self-reliant, much less consumer-driven. I feel like I've got back in touch with the real me.'

  'Oh stop, you're sounding like one of those dreadful self-help websites.'

  'You can laugh, but honestly, I think I've realised how unimportant most of the crap in my old life was. Who needs hundreds of pairs of shoes and a diet of reality television and talent shows? Here I live in flip-flops in the summer and wellies in the winter and I have time to read now. I've even learnt a new language. Well, more or less. OK, the money is an issue, granted, but I've got my flat on the market. All I need is a buyer.'

  'But your savings have nearly run out and you still don't have a proper job. How will you manage?' said Charlotte. 'I'm sorry but I just don't think you are being realistic.'

  'Look, I have enough wood to get me through the winter so at least I can keep warm. That was at least one good thing Julien d'Aubeville did before he publicly humiliated me.'

  'Yes, shame he couldn't have chopped it up for you.'

  'I guess he thought he'd be around to do it for me. Anyway, he left his axe and if he tries to get it back I'll probably embed it in the back of his skull.'

  'I'd bloody do that anyway if I were you.'

  I turned to look at my friend. 'Come on, let's not argue. You're only here for a few days.'

  I slipped my arm around Charlotte's shoulder, feeling rather less confident about the future than I was letting on to her.

  'Have you ever noticed that woman in the café looks like a tortoise in a wig? What was her name? Buffy? Fluffy?'

  I snorted. 'Muffy. Yeah, she does, doesn't she?' I hugged her. 'Love you, Lottie.'

  'I love you too, but I'm worried about you.' There was a catch in her voice as she said it.

  'You don't have to, really you don't,' I replied. 'I'm fine here. I'm going to sit the winter out then if nothing changes I promise you, I'll think about coming back. OK?'

  'OK. Scout's honour?'

  'Scouts? I never even made the Brownies,' I said, 'but yes, Scout's honour.' Charlotte didn't notice that I had my fingers crossed behind my back.

  Two days later, we were standing in the queue for check-in at the airport laughing at an older English couple, all beige slacks and half-moon glasses, who were complaining loudly about the unfairness of the queuing system. They had joined a queue only to have their check-in agent disappear for a coffee break minutes before the desk was due to open.

  'So how's this going to work then?' the woman demanded loudly to the one remaining check-in agent.

  'I'll take one person from each queue,' she replied calmly.

  'But that's not fair. We were here long before some of the people in the other queue and they'll check in before us.'

  I rolled my eyes at Charlotte. 'Now do you see why I want to stay here?' I whispered. 'For heaven's sake, you're all getting the same flight. It's not going to leave anyone behind.'

  A bit later, having checked Charlotte in, we sat in the waiting area flicking through the latest copy of
Hello!
which Charlotte had found in the airport shop. She had spotted Tracey on the cover and we were reading through the interview and looking at the photos of her in her new Malibu home.

  'It looks amazing!' I sighed, admiring the opulent décor and the infinity pool surrounded by palm trees.

  'Oh look,' Charlotte squealed, 'she mentions you. Well I suppose it's you.'

  'Where?' I said, grabbing the magazine from her.

  'Here, look. "Interviewer – You famously appeared in the tabloids fighting with another British woman outside your home in France. What was the real story behind that?" That's you isn't it?' 'Sadly, it is. What did she say?'

  Charlotte read aloud. '"It was just a misunderstanding. We went on to become good friends. Interviewer – Are you still in contact with her? Tracey Tarrant – Sadly no." Sadly no, eh? You
should
get in touch with her.'

  'Oh, I don't know,' I replied, 'she's moved on now. I doubt she'll ever even come back to France.'

  'Well I think you should.' She paused to listen to an announcement. 'Oh, that's me. I've got to go.'

  We stood up and flung our arms around each other, hugging each other tight.

  'I'll miss you, Lottie,' I whispered into her ear.

  'Me too. Take care, you.' Charlotte's eyes glistened with tears.

  'Oh don't or you'll set me off. Go on, you don't want to miss your plane.'

  I stood watching her go, waving until she disappeared from view, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. I was sad that she was going, not sad that she was going back to the life I had left behind. Despite all that had happened with Julien, I was still right where I wanted to be. I turned to leave but then stopped and thought for a moment.