The Little French Guesthouse (16 page)

He took advantage of my lack of protest to hurry on with his sales pitch. ‘It’s a bit chintzy and old-ladyish, but I’d have it redecorated. It’s quite big. And en suite. And right at the far end. Looks out over the orchard at the side of the house. I could put a private entrance in. I know you wouldn’t want anyone to think we were... Well, you know.’

‘All right. I understand I wouldn’t be taking a guest room. But I still don’t see how you could afford to pay me much.’

Rupert gave me a patronising look as he topped up my glass. ‘Emmy, darling, how much do you imagine Gloria cost me to run?’

I thought about what Alain had said this morning. Thought about the clothes, the jewellery, the suspected Parisian lingerie, the designer luggage that Nathan had loaded into the expensive sports car.

‘Hmmm,’ I murmured circumspectly.

‘And if you were to tot up how much actual work she did around here?’

I got the picture. ‘But if you get divorced, she’ll cost you even more!’

Rupert shot me a wry smile. ‘I don’t doubt it. But only in the short-term. I’m well-placed financially, Emmy, and I can stand a few losses. But you heard what Alain said this morning – I need this place as a going concern. If you weren’t here, I’d have to cough up for local help anyway. Surely even you can see that if you take that into consideration, and if you compare all Gloria’s little expenses against paying a decent wage to someone I trust, I couldn’t be worse off?’

I was still trying to compute this when he added, ‘Besides, I could get a dog.’

This threw me for six. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘I’ve always wanted a dog.’ He had a wistful look in his eye.

‘And that’s relevant to this conversation because...?’ Perhaps his beer had combined in some horrible way with his medication to make him go prematurely senile.

‘Gloria wouldn’t let me,’ he explained. ‘High heels don’t go with dog-walking, and she didn’t like the idea of picking up poo.’

This, I could well believe. In fact, it was the most plausible thing he’d come up with in the last ten minutes.

‘But if
you
were here, Emmy...’

‘Oh, so now you want me to live here so you can pay me to pick up dog poo?’

‘Hardly. I’ll pay you to help run the place, which will free up my time, allowing me to commune with nature and share the trustful companionship of man’s best friend as befits someone of my advancing years. Would you deny me that pleasure?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Okay, Rupert, enough with the dog. To get back to business. You’d have to allow for the off-season, so it’s not like I’d be earning what I earn now, would I?’

‘You wouldn’t need to, with no rent to pay and only a few living expenses. Besides, you’d also be starting to build up your own business.’

‘Business? What kind of business?’

‘Well, I haven’t pinned that down yet...’

I snorted with derision.

‘What I
can
tell you, Emmy, is that there are plenty of ex-pats out here. They might need help with advertising their holiday homes, websites, brochures, liaising with agencies. Keeping an eye on their properties. Organising cleaning and maintenance. The possibilities are endless for a practical girl like you. All you have to do is identify a need that can be met with the skills you have, get your head around how to offer it and charge a sensible rate.’

I shook my head, then stopped when it spun a little. ‘Rupert, I couldn’t make a living doing piecemeal work like that.’

‘At the end of the day, Emmy, I wouldn’t know for sure. But you’d have plenty to be getting on with here at the house and I’d be paying you a living wage, so you could explore the possibilities in your own time.’

‘I don’t speak enough French,’ I declared, not wanting to get carried away, and also acutely aware we’d both drunk too much – as usual. As far as I could see, the main drawback to moving out here would be the inevitable ravages of alcohol abuse.

‘I could help you. You’ve already come on in leaps and bounds.’

‘I have no idea how to set up a business in a foreign country. I wouldn’t know where to start.’ Sulky now, I was keen to find obstacles before my brain started computing it as feasible.

‘I could help you with a lot of it. Alain would help you with the rest – it’s his speciality.’

I clutched at straws. ‘How could I afford his services before I’d even earned anything?’

‘He’d be more than eager to help you, young lady. I think our Alain is rather smitten with you.’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’

Rupert looked me in the eye. ‘Don’t you like it out here?’

I sighed wistfully. ‘You know I do, but I’m on holiday. It’s not the same as giving up a good job to come out on some pie-in-the-sky whim.’

‘Wouldn’t it be good to have a change, a new challenge, one where you can use your skills in a way that’s satisfying to you? Be your own boss? And, best-case scenario? You move out here, love it, never look back and make a decent enough living doing something you’re good at.’

‘And worst-case scenario?’

‘Think positive, Emmy, that’s the ticket!’

T
uesday dawned bright and sunny
. The days were rarely anything but. Rain tended to come at night, leaving the garden dewy and green and the days clear. Sitting up in bed for a few minutes to allow any unprocessed alcohol to drain away from my head, I could almost feel the weight of the bags under my eyes.

I remembered my conversation with Rupert the night before and groaned. In the odd patches of the night when I’d managed to sleep, one minute I’d dreamed of a glorious life of sunshine, fantastic food and coffee at pavement cafés and the next minute, I was buried under a mountain of king-size sheets that needed washing, being suffocated by a gigantic hound that sat on top of me and wouldn’t budge.

In the many waking moments in between, I had cursed Rupert and his tipsy, enthusiastic ramblings. What he’d suggested was nothing but a pipe dream. Of course it was tempting. That was why people went on holiday – for a taste of something different. But holidays were a brief respite, an escape that couldn’t be sustained in the real world. You couldn’t compare one with the other.

My life and what defined it – my home, my job, my family and friends – were in England. All Rupert had done was muddy the waters in an already difficult situation. God, he could be a pain.

Refusing to give his outrageous suggestions any more space in my brain, I staggered into the bathroom, and when I couldn’t stand the pounding of the shower on my aching head any more, I dried, dressed and made a beeline for my favourite kitchen appliance.

Taking my coffee outside, I padded around the garden in my bare feet, content to feel the wet grass between my toes and admire the explosion of colour everywhere I looked. The bleeding hearts dotted amongst the shrubs at the edge of the garden were out, their flowers dangling prettily, and the early June day was already beginning to warm up. The chickens, locked in the henhouse overnight for their own safety, were fussing to get out, so I entered the run to allow them their freedom and give them breakfast.

I backed out bottom first – into Ryan.

‘Oomph. Sorry. Didn’t see you there.’

Ryan laughed. ‘You’re becoming more domesticated by the minute. Bet you didn’t imagine you’d be feeding chickens when you came on holiday.’

‘I didn’t imagine ninety per cent of the rest of it, either. You’re early.’

‘I know. Rather busy at the moment. I have a lot of gardens to catch up with after my week back in England and... Well, my other clients were somewhat neglected last week.’ He gave me a cheeky grin.

‘Oh.’ I blushed. ‘Ryan...’

‘Don’t worry, Emmy. I’m still okay with what we agreed on Friday, if you are.’

I sighed with relief. ‘Yes.’

He removed any awkwardness by taking my cup from my hands and draining what was left of my coffee in one gulp.

‘Hey! Now I’ll have to make another!’ I yelped.

‘Make me one while you’re at it.’

I glanced sideways at him as we headed towards the house. There was something I’d wondered since the first day I’d met him. As his lover, it hadn’t seemed appropriate to ask – but now we were officially just friends, my curiosity won out.

‘Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?’

‘I’d say we’ve already been pretty personal. It’d be a bit odd for me to mind at this stage. Go ahead.’

‘Did Gloria ever... You know... Try it on with you?’

A delighted guffaw burst from his throat. ‘Now, what on earth would make you think that?’

I suspected it was a rhetorical question, but I answered anyway. ‘The woman was a flirt, Ryan. If she could go after Nathan, I can’t imagine for one minute she could ignore a sex god like you working in her garden!’

He grinned. ‘Sex god, eh? Is that how you see me?’

I slapped playfully at him as I blushed bright red. ‘I was seeing it from Gloria’s point of view.’

‘Uh-huh.’ His dimples winked as his mouth twitched. ‘Well, to answer your question – yes, she did suggest that she required... extra services. I turned her down flat. She didn’t like it.’

‘I bet.’ I pictured a thwarted Gloria forced to watch Ryan working in the garden without getting what she wanted, and I beamed – not only at the mental torture it must have caused her, but the fact that I’d had a taste of something she couldn’t have. And it had been as delicious as her tormented imagination must have told her it would be.

‘Weren’t you even tempted?’ I asked him.

He shook his head. ‘I’ve told you before, I’m only interested in women I feel comfortable with, and I felt about as comfortable with Gloria as I would with a boa constrictor. Besides, I respect Rupert too much. It was never going to happen.’

I smiled. It was good to know that old-fashioned values were still alive and well in the younger generation.

Ryan deftly changed the subject. ‘I hear you’re entertaining tonight.’

I gave a noncommittal grunt. ‘Rupert’s entertaining tonight. I’m the mug he’s roped into helping him.’

‘I’m sure that’s true, but don’t forget it’s all for your benefit.’

‘In what respect?’

‘Alain is coming, and I notice I haven’t been invited.’

We went into the kitchen and I tackled the coffee. ‘Maybe Rupert thought it would be too middle-aged for you.’

Ryan laughed. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not offended. I don’t expect to be at every soirée Rupert arranges. You, on the other hand, need to be less naive if you’re going to keep Rupert as a close friend and ally. He’s trying to fix you up with a respectable accountant to make up for the last one, and he doesn’t want your part-time lover mucking up the works.’

I gave an irritated sigh. ‘I’m well aware of that, and believe me, I wish he wouldn’t interfere, but there doesn’t seem to be any stopping him. For God’s sake, I’ve been single less than a fortnight. It’s bad enough that I’ve slept with one man, without him trying to find me another.’

‘Thanks a lot!’

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that... Well, I never really thought I was that kind of girl.’

His response was a loud laugh. ‘
That kind of girl
? Where did you get that expression from, your grandmother’s parenting manual?’ He reached across to touch my hand. ‘Don’t feel guilty about what we did, Emmy, or you’ll make me feel bad, too.’

I nodded unconvincingly. ‘Okay.’ I gave him a sullen look. ‘That still doesn’t mean Rupert should be fixing me up with the first man that comes along. I go home this weekend. What’s he going to achieve?’

‘He doesn’t want to lose you.’

I thought about Rupert’s schemes last night – and my rejection of them. ‘He won’t. We’ll stay in touch.’

Ryan put his empty cup in the sink. ‘Emmy. Rupert wants you to have as many reasons as possible to keep coming back here as often as possible. He’s worried that this place and his company won’t be enough once you get back to your old life. He won’t see any harm in throwing another temptation in your path.’ He shot me a sympathetic smile. ‘Thanks for the coffee.’ Walking to the door, he turned back. ‘By the way. Is he?’

‘Is who what?’ My mind was still on Rupert and his machinations.

‘Alain. A temptation?’

‘I barely know him,’ I answered, as a perfect snapshot of Alain’s toffee eyes popped unbidden into my head. I might barely know him, but it seemed that hadn’t stopped me from memorising his face in perfect detail.

‘But?’

I thought about my harsh words at the café yesterday, the anger I’d felt when I thought he was bullying Rupert and the way his face had turned ashen when he found out the truth about his friend’s health. His anxiety to protect Rupert from the devastation that Gloria could wreak.

Ryan’s eyes were twinkling. I could see he wasn’t jealous, and we’d made our peace already.

‘Well, I don’t suppose I’d turn him down for a drink if I stuck around.’
If only to patch up yesterday’s misunderstandings.
‘But since I’m leaving, it’s not an issue.’

‘Enjoy tonight, then. I’m sorry I can’t be there. As a spectator, I mean.’

He waved, and as he headed off to his weeds, I tried hard not to be moved by the sight of his torso in a tight T-shirt.

Rupert and I would have to have words about him meddling with my love life, if not my life in general, but for now, since both the Kennedys and the Stewarts were leaving this morning, I had their rooms to clear and then Rupert to help with his blasted dinner party. The last thing I needed was for him to collapse with exhaustion before the meal and leave me with several strangers to amuse for an entire evening.

While I was busy upstairs, Madame Dupont did a cleaning stint downstairs. As was our habit now, we took a break together with a cup of
thé au citron.

‘Madame Dupont, has Rupert asked you about help for
La Cour des Roses
?’ I asked her.

She shook her head, and I made a sound of pure frustration.

Somehow, between my earnest desire, her patience and an impromptu sketching session on the back of Rupert’s shopping list, I managed to get across my dilemma.

‘I leave on Saturday.’ I drew a boat on choppy waters. ‘Rupert needs help.’ I drew a stick lady with a pan in her hand that looked disconcertingly like an axe. Art was never my strong suit. ‘He needs lots of help.’ I drew another lady making a bed.

At this, Madame Dupont gave a decidedly dirty laugh for a sweet old dear, but when I realised she must have got the wrong end of the stick and scribbled it out to start again, she winked to indicate she’d been kidding.

‘Don’t worry, Emie,’ she said, and to my surprise, she pulled a tiny mobile phone from the depths of her skirt pocket and got to work. Several calls and a second lemon tea later, she’d written down a couple of names and phone numbers.

‘You must make Rupert phone them with the details of what he wants and when he wants it.’

‘Merci beaucoup.’
I heaved a sigh of relief as I took the piece of paper, and a tear rolled down my face before I could stop it.

Madame Dupont reached across to wipe it away and patted my cheek, releasing a string of impossible French, but I got the gist – I was a good, kind girl. Coming from this formidable little woman, that meant a lot to me, and the sincerity with which it was said made my heart sing.

I
stayed
in the kitchen after lunch under the guise of helping Rupert to cook, but in reality to have a go at him about his penchant for meddling – but he was adamant about not letting me help.

‘You’ve done enough unpaid slaving around here to last you a lifetime,’ he said. ‘It was me who decided to have people for dinner, so I shall be doing the work. I want you to relax for a change.’

I swallowed down the lecture I’d been about to deliver. Just because Rupert went about things in a bull-headed way didn’t mean I wasn’t touched by his motives, even if some of them were downright selfish.

‘I don’t want you overdoing it,’ I warned.

‘I won’t.’ When I still hovered, he relented a little. ‘I might need help clearing up later on, when I’ve finished the prep.’

‘Right. No problem.’

Feeling too restless to sit in the garden, instead I went for a stroll along the lanes. The temperature was just right, and it felt good to get some form of gentle exercise other than housework. There was a verge at the side of the road wide enough to protect me from speeding cars, and I enjoyed the bucolic views of fields and vines.

As I walked, I thought about the impending dinner party and sighed. If Rupert thought it would help Alain and I fall madly in love with each other, then he was sadly mistaken.

I felt awful about how I’d spoken to Alain yesterday. The way I’d rounded on him, even jabbed my finger at him. He hadn’t known about Rupert’s health. He’d only been looking out for his friend’s welfare the best way he knew how, and the look on his face when I’d told him about the angina had been one of shock and concern, bordering on panic.

How we were going to brush by tonight, I didn’t know. Even if I wanted to apologise – and I was beginning to think that I did – I might not get the opportunity in a room full of people.

I got back mildly sweaty from my exertions, and headed upstairs to shower and change. I needn’t have bothered. When I came back down looking more presentable, the kitchen looked as though Rupert had taken part in a competition to see who could use the most pots and pans.

By the time people began to arrive, I was nervous at the prospect of facing Alain and not in a frame of mind conducive to socialising with Rupert’s motley collection of guests.

First to arrive was Alain, who had been called upon to act as taxi driver to Jonathan, a favour Jonathan declared himself worthy of as his age meant he was unfit to drive on an evening out.

‘Reactions are slow enough as it is,’ he told me cheerfully. ‘Add in a heavy meal, and I’d be falling asleep at the wheel.’

I looked awkwardly at Alain and he gave me a half-smile back. I glanced at the clock. Ten minutes before the others were due.
Just get on with it, Emmy.

‘Alain? Would you lend me a hand fetching napkins and... stuff?’

It was weak at best, pathetic at worst, but Rupert would just think it was a ploy for me to get Alain on his own – which it was – in order to seduce him, which I had no intention of.

Startled but politely compliant, Alain followed me into the guest lounge. ‘Do you really need napkins?’

I took a small pile of linen squares from the sideboard. ‘Yes – but I don’t think I need your help to carry them.’ I tried a smile. ‘Alain, we got off on the wrong foot yesterday, and I’d like to apologise. Even though I was upset about what you were doing, I was unnecessarily rude, and I certainly had no idea that Rupert hadn’t told you the full story about his hospital stay. I’m sorry.’

He nodded. ‘I’m sorry too. I thought a lot about what you said yesterday, and with hindsight, you were right. I hadn’t meant to be so negative or to panic Rupert, but I honestly had no idea how ill he’s been. It’s just... I know Gloria. I only wanted to make him more aware, before she hits him between the eyes.’

I smiled sadly. ‘I take it you mean financially-speaking. Because emotionally-speaking, she already did.’