La Vie en Bleu (28 page)

“Unconditional,” I mumbled. “Anyway.” I felt my hands trembling
and shoved them in my back pockets. I wanted to cry. Even if they weren’t true,
Vivienne’s words still hurt.
“I’ll leave you
two alone. I need to . . . er . .
. wash my hair.”

What? Why? Where had that come from? Wash my hair? That was an
excuse for not going on a date, not excusing yourself from a potential train
wreck of a heartbreak.

“I’ll help you.” Rebecca shrugged as Vivienne raised her
pencilled-on eyebrows. “She might need a towel?”

The pair of us were pathetic.

“I am going to stay with Bebe,” Babs said, holding her hand up
before Vivienne could argue. “This is Madame Chamonix’s house. It would not do
to have the happy couple share the same room,
non
?”

Vivienne blew out a breath. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“I do. I will sleep here.” Berne pulled away from her and went to
the whiskey bottle.

I didn’t want to leave her and I didn’t know what I could do to
help. It clearly wasn’t my place to. The ring on Vivienne’s finger was not
something Berne would pick. Not only that, she couldn’t afford a diamond corker
like that.

Somewhere inside, underneath the shock and ripple of pain, I knew
I wore the only ring she would give with her heart. 

Steeling myself with that thought, I went to Berne and pulled her
into a hug. “If you need me, you know where I am.”

Berne held on. I knew she didn’t want to let me go. I brushed my
ring against her cheek.

“Just remember, you married me first, right?”

Berne nodded. Her eyes twinkled with tears. I kissed the ring on
my finger out of sight of Viper who was being distracted by Rebecca dancing
about. Cramp again.

“
Merci
.” Her eyes filled with so much warmth that I knew
she was saying she loved me.

“Unconditional,” I repeated. I meant it. Where had all this strength
come from?

Whiskey was good.

Vivienne muttered something at Babs as Rebecca continued to yelp.
I squeezed Berne’s hand and let go.

“Come on, Whitely. Let’s get you a hot salty soak.”

Again that provoked raised eyebrows.

“Seriously? You think washing hair and salt rubs are seduction?” I
shook my head, whooshing out a breath. “And they say French women are
romantics.”

Rebecca sniggered through a yelp as I helped her to hobble out. I
knew Babs was on my side. She’d keep the Viper at bay.

“You’re kinda cheery considering you just got told they’re getting
married.” Rebecca hopped down the road until her cramp calmed.

“Monsieur Chamonix is alive and well.” I smiled. I’d helped that
to happen, somehow. I said a silent thank you in prayer. “And . . . you know
what? I think old Fish Lips feels threatened.”

Rebecca laughed. “You think? I was waiting for her to p—”

I pressed my fingers to her lips. “Yuck.”

She shrugged. “Proud of you, Pip.”

I nudged her shoulder with mine, a smile filling me up. He was
okay. I’d helped him. He was alive.

Chapter Twenty-five

MONSIEUR CHAMONIX WAS awake and in good
spirits. Berne had taken on her role in helping me restore the house once more.
We hadn’t talked about Vivienne’s announcement. The only thing I wanted to do
was to help her take her mind off her father. 

We worked in silence a few days later, late into the barmy summer
afternoon. We were in one of the bedrooms upstairs. So far they were shells.
Drafty shells with flapping sheet windows.

I wanted to be a part of Berne’s day and Viper was everywhere. The
only place she left Berne alone was here. Still, she was marrying her. It
wasn’t as if Berne had protested. She could have stopped me leaving, told
Vivienne to go but she hadn’t. 

There were so many confusing emotions rocketing around me that I
wasn’t sure what to think anymore. Only a cryptic visit from Madame Chamonix
had helped to steel me.

She’d brought bread, which we had. That was her reason for taking
time out of her busy day to traipse down to the house. She’d talked about the
decor and about how she and Monsieur Chamonix had been married over fifty
years. Then she’d told me that he’d needed openness. He’d always been the same.
He needed to understand her love was whole by her sharing her every day.

“He and Berne are much the same,” she had said with a chuckle and
left.

If that wasn’t a hint, I didn’t know what was. I felt quite
chuffed that Madame Chamonix was on my side.

It wasn’t helping me find the right words. At least none that
didn’t sound like I was in competition with Vivienne. No matter how I tried to
place the right meaning, it wouldn’t come. So I concentrated on trying to fix
the floorboard I was working on. My thoughts kept going back to Berne and back
to when we met. That summer, that storm. If “I love you” hadn’t told her, if
leaving Doug hadn’t shown her, how else could I prove it?

“How long did you know you liked me before . . . ?” I heard myself
asking the question out loud. I was speaking
out loud
. Oh no.

Berne stopped her task of re-pointing the stone work. “
Pardon?
”

“You were older than me. You knew that you were . . . well . . .
you know . . .” I scratched my head, getting dust in my eye. Ouch. I winked to
try and get it out. Ow, ow. Suave, Saunders, really suave. That’ll woo her, won’t
it.

“That I loved you?”

I sat down on the floor beside her. “Yes and well . . . that you
were okay with that.” I bit my lip. “And how did you know, about me?”

Berne swivelled around on her stool to face me. “This is what
bothers you?”

“Yes . . . no . . .” I stared down at my dusty hands. “Will you
humour me?” 

“
Bien
sur
,”
Berne said with a smile. “It was not about if you were or were not
attracted to other women.” She chose her words, her careful tone full of the
humming sound I adored. “I was only trying to understand if you feel this way
about me.”

“I did.” I took her hand. I wanted to say
I still do. Pick me!
but
couldn’t find the courage.

Berne stroked my cheek with her thumb. “You were young and you
were vulnerable. You look at me with such desire without realising. It was hard
not to notice.”

“I’ve always loved you.” Hint, hint. As in always.

Her eyes twinkled but she didn’t take the bait. “Then that is all
that matters,
non
?”

I shook my head. Try again. Think of something else. Openness.
“Vivienne makes you hide away.” Great. State the obvious. Pick on Viper. That
will win her confidence, won’t it? I took hold of her hand once more and placed
mine in it. “I mean . . . why doesn’t she celebrate you . . . Why does she
force you inside?”

“That takes us both to do this.” She lifted my chin and captured
me with gentle eyes.

Tell her, you numbskull. “You deserve better than the way she
treats you.”

Berne leaned in closer, her breath misted in the space between our
lips. “You have a better way?”

I glanced down at her lips and up to her eyes. I could feel the
heat radiating from her as I inched closer. “She never asks you how you feel,
what you want.”

Berne placed her finger over my lips. “Ask me, Pepe.”

“You’re marrying her.” I felt her breath mingle with mine. “It’s
not polite for . . . me . . . to—”

Bang
.

I jumped, ducked, and head-butted Berne’s chin. She grunted as I
clamped my hands over my head.

Ow, ow, ow
.

Berne sighed and picked up the screwdriver that had clattered out
of my pocket. I was too busy rubbing my head to care. She had a hard chin.

“You are right. It is unfair to act this way.” She placed the
screwdriver in my hand. “It is not fair on any of us.”

“You didn’t really ask her to marry you, did you?” I swallowed,
trying to clear my throat. Time to face the truth.

“Even if I did not, why shouldn’t I marry her?” Berne went back to
her work. Her frown line prominent.

Ouch. I sucked in my breaths. “It’s not fair.”

Openness. Feeling. I could do this. Oh how did I say it? Berne
lifted her eyes from her task. 

“I mean . . . um . . . Does she know how talented you are?” I
needed Rebecca to swoop in and speak for me. Why couldn’t I say it? She could
only say no and break my heart, which I doubted would ever heal. Where was the
worry in that?

Berne raised her eyebrows at me. “
Moi?
”

“How you work the stone. I’ve always wondered how . . . what goes
through your mind.” I threw my screwdriver on the floor. I was useless at this.
“I loved being taught by you. I loved listening to you.”

All in past tense.

She held my gaze for a moment and her eyes softened. “It was
mutual.”

Again in past tense.

My eyes misted up. She could leave. She could marry the woman even
though she knew I’d given up Doug. Even after all we’d been through. “I want
you to teach me. You know, for when you leave.”

She motioned for me to scoot over to her and handed me the pointed
tool thingy that she always used. “When you re-point the stone, it is an art.
You take the bare stone and strengthen it.”

It sounded familiar. I felt like I’d been stripped back to the
bare stone. Right now I felt like my whole heart was crumbling.

“Each stroke, each loving touch fills in another hole.” She held
my hand and moved the tool to the stone. “The more care you take not to rush,
not to skim the surface, the more certain that the renovation will last,
oui
.”

I loved the way she talked. “All it needs is a master craftsman to
show you the way?” I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

Oops.

“I . . . um . . .”

Berne tutted and tapped the wall with the tool. “Would you kiss
your teacher?” Her face was stern but her eyes twinkled. I knew full well she
loved it when I did that.

“If she made it sound as romantic as you do, pretty much.” I met
her eyes. Pleading with her.
Don’t marry her. Don’t run off with Fish Lips.

Berne smiled a sad smile and tapped the tool to the wall.
“Concentrate.”

“I can’t.” I kissed her cheek again.

She pulled my mouth to hers. Energy fired through me. She ran her
fingers through my hair. The kiss grew. I had no idea how I’d ended up on the
floor but I didn’t care.

Berne murmured. Her hands roamed over my stomach, up my sides. I
realised my hands were as busy as hers.

She pulled back. Her breath ragged against my
mouth. “Pepe—
”

I kissed her with every ounce of passion I felt. If I couldn’t say
it, I was going to show it. Berne groaned and her body responded. Her hands
pulled at my top. I helped her.

“Berne?”

She froze. Her hands on my bra fastener. I peeked open an eye just
to confirm it was Vivienne. Yup. One really livid rubber-lipped Viper.

Oops.

Vivienne spun on her heel.

“Vivienne . . .” Berne sighed and met my eyes. “I have to go after
her.”

I nodded. What could I say to that?

She put her hands in her hair as I pulled my top back down. “It is
such a mess.”

She shook the dust off her jeans and looked over her shoulder at
me. Her eyes filled with desire, love, regret. I wasn’t sure which of those was
the strongest. Without another word she hurried off. I stared at her tools,
groaned, and flopped back down with a thud.

What did I do now? I pulled out my mobile and tried to ring
Rebecca but there was no answer. A cheery
bonjour
told me Julian had
arrived. I got up, brushed myself off, and went to find him. Something,
anything, not to think about the fact Berne had left me to go to her, again.

Chapter Twenty-six

REBECCA SPRINTED INTO the house sporting the kind of look that
made me lift onto the balls of my feet. I’d spent twenty minutes attempting to
wire the landing with Julian but so far all I’d done was make his job harder.

“Pip.” She bent over at the waist, sucking
the air in. “Berne . .
. Viv . . . Shop . . .”

I hurried down the stairs, attempting to connect the dots. Berne
and Vivienne shopping did not sound like sprint-worthy news. I’d be happy to
forget I’d ever heard of either name.

“Breathe.”

Rebecca shook her head. “Berne . . . Vivienne is . . . shop.” She
waved her hand over her head.

“Make sense.” Water. Maybe water would help. I opened the fridge,
realising that all we actually had was water. Where was the food?

“So?”

Rebecca stood up straight, cracked open the water, and downed it.

“Caught you?” Rebecca raised her eyebrows.

I shrugged. I had no restraint where Berne was involved. What was
new?

“Vivienne is in the workshop with Berne. They are arguing. Vivienne
wants her to leave to go back to Marseille. It’s an ultimatum.”

I frowned. “What are you doing, stalking her?”

“No, Babs and I were . . . well . . . out the back when they came
in.” Her blush said enough. Nice. “Hey don’t look so judgemental. I heard what
Vivienne saw.”

Point taken. “Berne went after her if you haven’t noticed. That’s
pretty conclusive.”

“You need to tell her, shout it at her, whatever. Just don’t let
her walk away.” Rebecca shoved me towards the door. “Don’t let her get stuck
with Fish Lips.”

I sighed. “She is the one who has to make that choice, not me.”

Rebecca gripped my shoulders. “Vivienne is demanding she go. You
know. You remember that feeling?”

Flashes of Catherine filled my head. “It’s not the same thing.
Vivienne isn’t Catherine.”

“Berne is sweet and kind. Babs told you that she makes her cry.”

I nodded. That made me want to throw things.

“You want her to cry when you can make her laugh?” Rebecca looked
like she wanted to slap sense into me. “You want her to grow old with someone
else?”

Urgency fired through me. “No.”

“Then please, Pip, tell her.”

I couldn’t, I couldn’t let Berne go. I spun around and sprinted up
the hill. I was so unfit. My breaths sounded like Winston when he huffed along
the road. My own rust bucket of a car was fitter than me.

I didn’t want Berne to leave. I didn’t want her to go. I wanted
her to stay. I wanted her never to be treated like that again. I wanted to make
her happy. I could make her happy. 

The realisation rocketed through me. Openness. That’s what she
wanted. I could do that, badly, but I would. I’d do anything for her. I loved
her. I loved her too much to let her go. 

I found it harder running downhill than I did up. I’d need more
than water when I got there, I’d need oxygen. Madame Chamonix poked her head
out of her kitchen window as I huffed my way past her house.

“She is in the—”

“Workshop.” I gasped in the air. “Got it.”

“Show her your heart.” Madame Chamonix’s eyes filled with
affection. “You can do it, Pepe.”

What was I, Rocky? I stumbled through the boules game, mumbling
apologies. Sweat dribbled off my nose. I would have been faster walking.
Actually, Winston would have gotten me here faster even with a dodgy starter
motor.

I could see Berne through the window of the workshop. Vivienne was
pacing around like some kind of lawyer, or prison guard. I took a deep breath
and shoved my way through the door.

“Pepe,
Ça va
. . . ?” Her argument with Vivienne stopped as she hurried over
to me with water. “Did something happen . . . the house?”

I shook my head, desperate to catch my breath.

Vivienne folded her arms, slumped onto a chair, and crossed her
legs. “Have you not done enough?” she spat at me.

Ignoring her, I turned to Berne. “You . . . can’t . . . go.” I
gasped in between breaths. Now I knew how Rebecca had felt. That was some run.

Berne frowned, her concern more for me puffing than anything else.
“
Pardon?
”

“You . . .” Openness. I glanced at Vivienne who had some kind of
bespoke letter opener in her hand. She flicked it against her arm.

“Don’t go.” I met Berne’s eyes. “Stay.”

Berne cocked her head.

“You can find another artisan. There are plenty of them to go
around.” Vivienne clicked at the counter. “Berne, I am waiting.”

I narrowed my eyes and stood up straight. She did not just click
at Berne, did she?

“Berne is . . . unique.” Catch your breath, Saunders. You can’t
verbally berate someone while keeling over. “There is no one as . . . talented
. . . as special . . . as incredible as her.”

“It’s stone.” Vivienne clicked again. “As for other services,
she’s no longer in business.”

I saw Berne’s look of utter disgust. Wow, Viper. Way to make your
fiancé sound like a prostitute.

“She’s everything to me.”

Berne turned from Vivienne. I saw her shoulders rise as she took a
breath. I knew that motion. I knew it when she was waiting. When she longed for
something. I knew her. 

“It doesn’t matter. We’re leaving. Now.” Vivienne glared at Berne.

Berne flinched.

“Don’t go. Stay. Please.” I bit my lip. How else did I tell her?
What did she need?

“What can you offer her?” Vivienne laughed.

I felt my teeth clench. She and my sister could be twins.

I turned to look at her. I didn’t have a clue where the strength
came from but I could see Babs loitering at the back and Rebecca creeping through
the door. I needed a way to show her what she meant to me.

“Just to stand in the fierce heat reminds me of her.” I took a
breath. “When I was away, my heart was still with her. I’d stand in the sun. If
only for a fleeting moment, a secret, unthinking moment, I could close my eyes
and feel the touch of her.”

“Pepe?” Berne’s eyes softened. “You don’t have to—”

“I
need
to.” I took her hands in mine. “Your warm
fingertips, light, teasing, trailing their way up my bare back.”

Vivienne went to move but Rebecca blocked her way.

“Your soft laughter in my ear. Its sound seeped into every breath
I’ve taken since.” I felt tears well up and didn’t hold them back. “You’re the
thudding of my heart, the wriggle in my stomach, the hammering of the pulse in
my ear. You’re everything. You’re my safe harbour.”

“Pathetic.” Vivienne stood up.

I gazed at Berne. Her tears trickled down her cheeks.

“I can’t stop you leaving but if you do, let it be because you
want it. Not because someone tells you too.” I sighed. “I speak from bitter
experience.”

Berne took my hands in hers.

Vivienne pushed past Rebecca. “You are cunning. I give you this.”

“I’m sorry that what you saw hurt you,” I told her. I could see
the shock in her eyes. “I’m sorry Berne is in this position but I’m not sorry I
kissed her.” I met Berne’s eyes once more. “The only thing I ever regret was
leaving.”

Before I burst into tears, started begging or throwing things at
the Viper, I walked out. Madame Chamonix clapped at me from her front door.

Whether Berne would run after me, I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure if
it was enough but it was all I had.