Sense and French Ability (10 page)

“I didn’t know you have children,” Fliss said. “How many do you have?”

“I have three boys but I don’t see them. They live near their mother. She infected their minds when they were little.”

“That is sad,” Fliss couldn’t help saying.

“I have Éric to look after,” he said. “It is a shame that I have this little business and they are not here to take it on when I retire.”

There was a pause when neither of them spoke and then Jerome added gloomily, “Mind you, if members of the local
conseiller
and others who have the ear of M. le Maire have their way I shan’t be in business much longer. They would be pleased if I closed.”

Having finished the tasks, Fliss went back to her own work. She had plenty to think about on her way home. So many people of whom she was becoming fond were facing major life changes and had serious dilemmas to contend with. Jean Chri’s marriage might be over, but he had the sympathy and support of the whole community. Who knew if his wife might yet return? Jerome had his own problems with rumours circulating which affected his business. Madame Marie was deciding whether she, Fliss, was sufficiently capable or desirable to buy her place in the village. Fliss had to decide the same. So many considerations and so many people who had issues up in the air...

She liked this place despite the little niggles, there were always disparate factions in a small community like this. However, the bigger picture was calm tranquillity, stress-free work. Then there was Jean Chri.

‘Don’t go there Fliss.’

Chapter 10

Fliss’ heart beat faster; her breath became short with anticipation. She smiled more. Jo would be arriving imminently, if only for a long weekend. She wanted to introduce her to the people with whom she was becoming so much more familiar and whom she liked so much.

Fliss imagined showing her friend the beautiful countryside, with its steep sided valleys and noisy rushing rivers. She planned to go for a picnic and take books to read as when she, herself, had first arrived. To introduce Jo to how peaceful and relaxing it could be was important. Fliss wanted Jo to be as excited as she was, and to appreciate why she came to this place.

On Saturday they had the ducasse to attend. It would be Fliss’s first experience of that but it sounded like such unsophisticated fun and the right person to go with her could only be Jo. They could have a laugh together and share it all.

Friday arrived at last. Fliss expected Jo at about six o’clock. She couldn’t contain her eagerness. Again, she told Madame Marie about her good friend.

“Jo has been my friend since school together. Now she’s staying in my house because she had to leave her accommodation in a hurry.”

Madame Marie rolled her eyes, although she smiled.

“Oh it wasn’t her fault. Something to do with the girl who owned the house in which she stayed. It was all sad but it’s worked out well for me. It means my house is secure while I’m here, until we decide what we shall do,” she added wistfully.

Fliss listened to herself talking nineteen to the dozen but she couldn’t help continuing. “Jo is such fun. You may find her too exuberant,” she said thinking that, as an older person, Madame Marie might not approve of Jo. “She is the kindest person, though, and when you get to know her I’m sure you’ll like her too.”

Madame Marie nodded and hummed her agreement. She had seen all types staying. In the eyes of Madame Marie Fliss was an errant child sometimes, when she was in a giddy state, being so much younger.

Fliss spent the afternoon preparing Jo’s room. She put her friend in the one she had decorated, taking pride in making it ready for her. She had picked flowers in the garden earlier, roses mainly, and placed them in a vase on the old-fashioned dressing table. Nicolas Augustin, the younger brother, came once each week to cut the grass and tidy the flowers during the growing season so that the garden looked pleasing.

As well as the bedroom Fliss tidied the little courtyard at the back of the house where guests sometimes ate in good weather. It all looked attractive, with flower tubs of geraniums and small troughs on the window ledges.

At half past five the clock crept more and more slowly. By six fifteen Fliss paced between the front window and her seat at the dining table. At last, just as she returned from her post at the window, she heard a car and, glancing back through the glass, she rushed to open the front door. It flashed through her mind for a millisecond that she was infinitely more excited about Jo coming than she had been at seeing Edward here. No sooner had this thought arrived, it had left. Fliss didn’t have time to muse on this or anything else.

“She’s here!” Shouting in the general direction of Madame Marie, Fliss disappeared down the front steps.

“Jo, hi!” She squealed with delight. Then she remembered the film Mama Mia and how the squealing and shouting when the friends reunited had gotten on her nerves.

“It’s ages since we had a good session together,” she said a tad more calmly. “Did you have a good journey? You didn’t get lost did you?”

Jo gave Fliss an expansive grin and said, “Me? Lost? Well, near the end but only a little.”

They collected her bags from the boot of the car and mounted the steps together, chattering about what they might do that weekend. Well, in a complete role reversal, Fliss chattered and Jo got the odd word in now and again.

*

Saturday morning dawned grey. It rained hard during the night. This was not a disaster since the ducasse meal was under cover. The weather would not be good for the planned games though. Fliss awoke with the dawn chorus which resounded at about five o’clock.

As she lay in her cosy, big bed she focussed on the day ahead. Fliss knew it to be full of promise. She felt exhilarated. When she got up, Jo arose not far behind her and they enjoyed their continental breakfast at the dining table.

“It’s a shame we can’t eat outside in the courtyard.”

Fliss gazed out of the window. The sky showed pale blue here and there between the clouds. Sure enough, by mid-morning, the sun struggled to come out.

A couple of days earlier Fliss had agreed to go to the Salle des Fêtes to help set out the tables with their decorations, and Jo was happy to go and help too. At ten they headed that way. The sun shone at last and the world was good!

As they arrived the older ladies had started before them.

“Wow, here we have a veritable collective of old ladies,” Jo said under her breath. “Do we call them a dither of old ladies?” She laughed at her own words.

“Definitely not that,” Fliss said. “They all like to voice an opinion.”

“Oh-ho! I sense a disagreement of old ladies. That’s even better!”

“Jo, behave!” Fliss frowned and nudged her in the ribs.

The ladies came and kissed each one of them a welcome. When Harriet arrived, Fliss introduced her to Jo and they got cracking folding napkins and arranging their little pots of flowers as table decorations. They looked pleasing and when they added the table confetti, which they’d made in different shades of yellow and lilac to match the napkins and pots, it looked professional and attractive.

The ‘disagreement’ made positive mutterings and nodded their collective grey heads. The English newcomers sighed with relief, still wanting to make a good impression.

“We’ve done it,” Harriet whispered from the corner of her mouth.

Several folk buzzed around setting up the games. For adults, the firing range attracted much attention as well as giant darts known as
fléchettes
. The hook-a-duck in a paddling pool for younger children looked inviting; the ducks were painted different colours, and ome had stripes or spots.

“It’s funny that this is a favourite in other cultures too,” Fliss said.

Several roped off areas sported further games for children.

When the preparations were more or less complete they drifted off home to prepare themselves for the rest of the long day ahead.

“The meal’s due to start at one o’clock but I suspect it may be later. The lack of punctuality here is becoming more familiar, but I don’t mind now I’ve the knowledge of what to expect,” Fliss explained to Jo.

Jo shrugged her acceptance.

“I can’t decide what to wear. I want to be warm if it becomes chilly later but I want to look my best too. This is my first proper induction into the life of the whole village,” Fliss said, once back indoors. “I need to make a good impression,” she added.

“Not like you to be self-conscious,” Jo remarked.

When Jo appeared she wore a dress with a lively red, purple and black print and, true to form, a matching scarf tied up her bright hair. Around her neck and partly covering the deep plunge to her neckline she wore a purple, chunky bead necklace.

“There may be talk about that,” Fliss said.

“Oh, good.”

Jo was so confident that she carried it off effortlessly, and if the ‘collective disagreement’ whispered, it would not worry her one jot.

“But you don’t live here.”

Fliss had always been more conservative than her friend, but selected a dress in a vibrant green.

“That sets off your eyes,” Jo said. “Your hair colour is just right for that shade, too.”

Fliss picked up a little black shrug in case it got cold later.

“I can’t afford to be too outrageous,” she said.

“Meaning it’s OK for me?” Jo asked with a broad smile.

“You’re always outrageous,” Fliss responded, “but you get away with it. You look great!”

“Thanks. The pair of us will knock ‘em flying. They won’t know what’s hit them!” she announced.

When they arrived back at the Salle people already milled about with no particular purpose. It set a care-free tone for the day. M. le Maire, Pierre le Bec, welcomed everyone and thanked the right people for their hard work. Fliss got a welcome as a newcomer who had helped. She was grateful and content to be part of it. He encouraged everyone to take a glass of sparkling something before the meal. It was a
crémant,
rather than champagne, but it set a good tone.

More arrivals did the rounds of kissing and handshakes, which took forever but was a good, polite custom. Fliss spied Jean Christophe as soon as he entered the field. He stood taller than his brother Pascal, and his family, with whom he arrived. His white shirt had the sleeves rolled up, accentuating the brown of his arms. His jeans hung from narrow hips and the whole effect was typically French-casual but highly attractive.

“Very tasty.” Jo nodded in their direction.

Fliss glanced sideways at her. “Forget it,” she said. The old ladies are likely to pounce if they see any carry on.”

Several children skittered in and out of the adults and Fliss saw the blonde child gaze up at her mother, who nodded her assent at a request made. She remembered the little one was called Melodie and her hair bobbed as she wove in and out to join her friend Thibault. They greeted each other in the time-honoured way.

She nudged Jo and nodded at the children.

“They’re brought up from birth to greet each other as their parents do and there’s no embarrassment, even between teenagers. It amazes me.”

As she drank her wine, Jean Chri and his family approached her and she introduced Jo, greeting them as she did so.

“You’ve gone pink,” she muttered under her breath so that only Fliss could hear. “I can see why. Those eyes have only time for you, it seems.”

“Oh, Jo!” Fliss protested.

With that, Pierre le Bec banged a table with a spoon and invited people to be seated. Jo and Fliss drifted to the bulle with Jean Chri’s family and found themselves seated at the same table. Harriet arrived and found her name tag next to Jo’s. The children sat at tables of their own and the older ones ensured the little ones settled. Melodie and Thibault sat together and were happy to be away from their parents, it seemed. They clearly expected this and had done it before.

Jean Chri and Harriet took up the bottles of wine from the table and poured for all of them.

“White or red?” Jean Chri asked Fliss, as his eyes seemed to veritably twinkle.

The meal was excellent and Jerome did himself proud.

‘After this, people must be more supportive of him,’ Fliss thought as Jo and Harriet chattered away happily. Fliss turned her attention to the family Rochefort. They included Fliss in their conversation, explaining to whom they referred or the places about which they talked.

“Fliss, you go in front of me,” Jean Chri said as their table was directed to fetch their first course.

“Have you enough there?”

“Would you prefer red or white with this course?”

“Do you see the couple over there? That is to whom Pascal is referring,” he explained.

He was being attentive. Fliss could not fault his manners, but she was trapped in the circumstance. She could not deny his attractiveness and, working against her desire, uncertainty wormed itself into her feelings.

At the end of the meal she grabbed a quick word with a busy Jerome. She knew he would not stay long after the end of the meal and his own clearing up.

“That was magnificent,” she said. “The salmon was so delicious and the meat cooked to perfection. Ever so many people said good things.”

“Thank you, Fliss. It has been hard work but I wanted to prove to certain people I could do it, and do it well within the price.”

“Well you have done that for sure.” She gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and couldn’t help being aware that he had shaved for the occasion and put on after shave. He was trying hard.

Games came later. Jean Chri showed Fliss how to hold the air rifle at the shooting stall.

‘This is like a film or a novel.’ He placed his hand on Fliss’ shoulder and helped to aim the barrel. His face came close to hers and she was aware of his breath on her cheek. They laughed together as her aim went wide. He demonstrated how to do it successfully.

“Well, I shot rabbits on the farm when I was a boy,” he explained. “And I still do that, often, to protect the crops.”

Even later still music emanated from the Salle itself and younger ones started off the dancing. There was no sign of Jo and Fliss wondered where she was, but she could look after herself. She had no fears for her friend, and so Fliss headed towards the little hall with the Rochefort family.

Pascal danced with Melodie, throwing her up in the air and spinning her around until helpless giggles overwhelmed her. The other three adults stood clapping and laughing, relaxed and happy. Pascal took his wife onto the floor leaving Jean Chri and Fliss standing on their own.

“Shall we?” He raised his eyebrows in question as he extended his hand. The warmth and dryness of it sent a shiver through her. It was a fast dance, which felt safe.