Sense and French Ability (17 page)

BOOK: Sense and French Ability
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“When you return I’m afraid we need to talk about selling this house,” she told Jo.

“No problem,” Jo said and Fliss was relieved. She didn’t want her to be awkward about it but she had said it may happen. Well that future was upon them.

At this point, Fliss did not know what the wider future would hold for them all, or the threat that loomed over the horizon.

The next couple of days seemed to disappear in a whirl because she was so much more settled on a plan and her thoughts raced through what needed to be done.

Jo arrived home, telling Fliss what she planned. She intended to return at some point. Fliss waited impatiently until she’d had time to unpack. When she re-appeared they settled in the sitting room with a bottle of chilled
Pouilly Fumé
from the Loire. Fliss was splashing out, but it was deliciously worth it for a little celebration of her new status.

“Well come on then,” Jo said greedily. “I take it you are going back to France.”

“Yes, I am.” Fliss responded with a smile. “At least I hope I am.” She grimaced. “What if I’ve ballsed it up and they don’t want me? What if they are all fed up with the way I behaved? Oh, Jo!” She sat forwards in her anxiety.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Everyone is being sympathetic to Jean Chri. Harriet more or less patched up my misdemeanour following the can-can affair and Madame Marie is just waiting for you to return.”

“What about Jerome? You said on the phone there had been a screaming match between him and Madame Marie? I was so hoping she need never find out he had helped. That was such bad luck.”

“Oh well, no-one likes him!” She volunteered this heartlessly. “He didn’t do any shouting. As far as I can gather it was all her, shrieking like a banshee. His name’s mud though.”

“Poor old bloke. I shall have some patching up to do when I return.” Fliss sighed, feeling guilty about him now too. “So what about you? What are your plans?”

“Ah well!” Jo takes a large swig from her glass. “I’ve got something to tell you too.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense, then. Out with it,” Fliss demanded, smiling at her.

“OK. I’m just going to say it straight,” and she laughed uproariously at this. “Ha! Straight!”

Fliss stared at her with a puzzled frown.

“You know, I’m not straight and neither is Harriet. We’re a match made in heaven… or hell.”

“So you two are together?”

“Yep.” Jo’s red curls bobbed about as she nodded and laughed at the expression on her friend’s face. “You can say it. We’ve been having it off!”

“So now you and Harriet are…? Well I wondered if it was going to work out that way.”

“Yep. I am so blessed,” she said, seriously for once. “To find love twice in my circumstances is rare.”

“Oh Jo,” Fliss said. “I am so happy for you. So what will you do? Are you moving over there too?”

She nodded. Were those tears in Jo’s eyes? Fliss felt some spring to her own at the thought. How perfect this be?

“Well here’s to Fleurus-le-Comte then,” she said

“And to new beginnings!” Fliss added and they clinked glasses.

That night Fliss sent a text to Jean Chri. “I’m coming home.”

Chapter 17

 

Fliss awoke as her phone went at half past six the following morning. Slow to wake, she had a small headache after the two bottles of wine from the previous evening. Initially the insistent bleeping seemed part of a dream. Surfacing, she grabbed the phone just to stop its noise as much as answer it.

“’Ello, Fliss. Is this true? Are you coming back? I didn’t get your message last night. I was out until the early hours with the harvest while the weather is good. When I returned I just showered and fell into bed. I collected it this morning.” Fliss heard Jean Chri’s adorable, accented greeting and then his French.

The picture in her head of him showering was almost too much, but she managed to respond.

“Yes, it’s true. Do you still want me to be there, though?” She asked hesistantly.

“You really do not need to ask that. All that I said before is true and more. I’m impatient now to see you again. When will you come, ma cherie?”

“I have to see the estate agent and there are one or two other things that I must do.” She did not tell him about her job offer. She was embarrassed and regretted the foolish moves she had made in panic.

“Please come soon,” he said. He told her that he loved her; he spoke of her mahogany hair and green, shining eyes. She felt almost new again, and it was easy to respond likewise.

Later, Fliss phoned Madame Marie and said she could definitely come back within the month.

“Madame Marie, does our arrangement still stand?”

This was a difficult call for her because she was very unsure how Madame viewed her escape.

“I certainly hope so, my child.” Madame responded, seeming pleased to hear the news and Fliss was intensely, unbearably relieved.

“I have to put my house up for sale and organise one or two other things.”

“Camille is still here with me,” she said. “We shall need to decide all together when you are ready to take over here completely and then she and I can return to live at her house. Now I am really ready for that when you are, Fliss.”

This was positive news for Fliss and indicated that all the changes would indeed happen, and not just in her imagination.

Jo finally wandered into the kitchen, with her dressing gown hanging open and her pyjamas looking rumpled. She reflected, in her demeanour, how Fliss was feeling. They looked at each other and grinned ruefully. It was some time since they’d had a session like the previous night and lived to regret the feeling the next morning.

“I think strong tea is in order,” Jo said.

Fliss made toast, too, and they slumped on the sofa to eat.

“I feel marginally improved. I better get dressed,” Jo said.

“Mmm, me too,” Fliss reiterated.

Feeling slightly more human they each staggered off in their respective directions to get showered and dressed.

Fliss knew she must make a final call to Bob Hackett to say that she would not be taking up his job offer. Feeling slightly awkward about it, she sensed that she had wasted his time.

“No you haven’t,” Jo said emphatically when Fliss shared her fretting with her. “He might have gained far more experience than he was prepared to pay for so it was worth a punt for him.”

Jo was dressed and her tangled curls were tied up in a yellow scarf. She did a wobbly pirouette and sang “Isn’t life grand in a most mysterious way,” in a discordant voice. “Don’t worry about old Bob Hackett. Was that his name did you say? There are far better things to think about,” she added blithely.

“I suppose I’d better stop putting it off and make the call, then,” Fliss said reluctantly.

“Yes, otherwise it becomes one of those elephant in the corner things,” she said, waving her arm vaguely in that direction as she left the room with a hop and a skip.

Fliss picked up her phone and hunted through the numbers finding the correct one. She got Bob’s efficient secretary who insisted on putting her through to him, instead of letting her get away with leaving a message. They passed the time of day with meaningless pleasantries and then Fliss got to the point of her call. She found it was surprisingly easy. He had almost expected her to decline his job offer.

“Isn’t that always the way in this life? The thing we most expect and plan meticulously for, simply does not occur. Then the thing we least expect and do not prepare for at all has the most dramatic effect,” Fliss said to Jo having finished the call.

Fliss has no knowledge of the intuition of this thought, at the time.

*

“I have to work all the hours there are at the moment,” Jean Chri said during one of their daily calls. “It really is not exciting but while the weather is this hot I must get the harvest in. This is the life of a farmer, Fliss. Tell me you can bear it. It can be very lonely, you know.”

“I am used to loneliness,” she said. “It will not be the same kind of loneliness with you, though, because I shall have you with me in between and I can look forward to the end of each day and to night times,” she added.

“This is very true.” He laughed. “We shall have each other. We shall do so much with our time together.”

She imagined his wicked look and the twinkle in his eyes as he said these things.

“You missed a little drama recently,” he told her. “Before we had this hot spell we had so much rain. In fact we had a mini flood. All the water washed great amounts of sand and silt from the fields and carried it down the hill into the village. A couple of us took the sweepers on our tractors to try and clear it. I think much went down the storm drains so I hope it hasn’t blocked them further along. After the rains stopped it set like concrete on the road edges.”

“Did it seep into anyone’s home?”

“No, no. Some of the cellar pumps were working overtime in the houses along the river there but that’s not too unusual when the water table is slightly high. It was fine,” he explained. “Come soon, Fliss. I miss you so much,” Jean Chri said with sincerity.

Fliss felt comfortable telling him she loved him, and they ended their call. Their daily phone conversations were like this. He told her about his work; they shared little snippets of news. They told each other their deepest emotions but it wasn’t all about that. It was normal and comforting and loving, with a frisson of passion and longing.

Fliss told Jo what she’d heard about the flood and asked her about Harriet’s house.

“So much has happened since. I completely forgot to tell you. Yes, it was quite exciting. The water was knee deep in the centre of the village at one point but it went again quite quickly,” she explained. “It has left a mess along the roads though.”

“Does Harriet have to pump her cellar then? Is that normal?”

“Apparently when the river is high her cellar has water in it but the pump deals with it. There are shelves all the way round half-way up the walls for storage. All the houses along there are the same but people still use their cellars for wine and vegetable preserves and stuff.”

“Doesn’t it make for a damp house?”

“It doesn’t seem to. There’s no condensation or damp flooring,” she answered.

“Harriet got a bit uneasy even though apparently it’s happened before. She said she just can’t get used to it but there’s never been a problem. What a hoot having a floating house. I don’t know how it works really other than that they all live with it and presumably have done so for decades.” Clearly, Jo was not perturbed by it.

“I suppose they have,” Fliss said. “I’m glad my house is on a hill though.”

“It really can’t be a problem,” Jo said blithely.

Fliss thought no more about it since it was not to be her problem. Plainly, the residents of Fleurus-le-Comte knew a little more about the way they lived than she did, since they had been at it considerably longer.

*

Fliss was heading to the estate agent’s office.

‘Yay!’ She gave a little skip as she thought about her mission. ‘I’m going to make the commitment to put my house up for sale. It is a strange feeling. I’ve lived there almost all my life.’

All through her childhood and formative years it had been her constant and, after her dad died, she and her mum had their safe retreat. Now, though, it did not hold her anymore. She’d had time to re-evaluate as she needed to do. She’d had her crisis of confidence and Fliss was going to a place that was going to be right for her.

She knew this with an unwavering certainty. Jean Chri was going to be her safe haven and in the core of her soul she believed she was making the correct choice. He would not let her down. Each time she thought of his smiling, dark eyes and those strong hands on her shoulders she shivered. She could hardly wait to get back.

It was very hot as she marched, with a swinging gait, down the street, feeling sure that when this weather broke it would be with a mighty bang. The weather in her home-to-be was the same, it seemed. The farmers were working every hour to get the harvest in before the rains came. Jean Chri was not getting home until the early hours, just in time to have a quick clean-up and collapse, exhausted, into bed before starting again early the following morning.

Fliss entered the shop and the agent was smooth and smart but helpful. He would come out the next day to see the property and they would take it from there.

The following day he arrived, and oozed positivity. After he had seen round the house and garden, he told Fliss some of the phrases he would like to use.

“A rare opportunity to purchase this spacious and well-proportioned three bedroom detached...; this represents an excellent purchase for a family or someone looking for quiet and spacious living...; the list of benefits this property has to offer seems to be endless ...; the well maintained garden will be heavenly on those long summer days; the generous driveway with...; close proximity to station, and amenities are just some of the reasons this family home will not be on the market for long so don't delay your appointment to view this truly outstanding property etc. etc. How does that sound?”

It all sounded wonderful and when he told her the price he thought she would achieve Fliss was pleasantly surprised. However, she wanted a quick sale so they agreed something that he said should do the trick, even in the present financial climate. Fliss hoped he was correct.

When he had left, she collapsed onto the sofa with Jo and had a bit of a giggle together at the expense of the poor man who had just left.

“He sees himself as the sophisticated answer to any woman’s dreams or any business venture, with his smart suit and pink shirt. Why is it that the cliché of an estate agent so often lives up to its potential?”

“You could put an estate agent on a desert island with a half built hut and he would still make a living, though,” Jo said irreverently. “They just seem to have the gift of the salesman’s gab.”

“To be honest, I don’t care how he does it but I hope he sells my house soon,” Fliss said with feeling. “It doesn’t prevent me from going to France tomorrow but I really want to buy Madame Marie out and get on with life, now.”

“What about the sexy farmer? Surely it’s not going to be like it has been with Edward; only seeing him at weekends and living separately?” Jo asked.

“Definitely not! We shall need to be careful at first because it’s such a conservative area and people could be upset about it. Maryl seems to have no real friends in the village, but people love to talk. We are going to be a full-time item but, when I move in with him, at least I shall have my own occupation and income. I can’t sit at home and twiddle my thumbs all day. When are you planning to move over there, Jo?”

“I was going to chat to you about that. Maybe the week after next? I have one or two client appointments to fulfil but after that I can work from over there just as easily, coming back to see people when I need to. Harriet is fine with all that.”

“It seems to be working out for both of us,” Fliss squeezed her hand affectionately before rising to go and make a cup of tea.

*

The weather forecasters were optimistic for the hot dry spell to continue but for no reason that was explicable, Fliss was feeling shaky about it. There was no rationality for this. Perhaps she just wanted to be in Fleurus-le-Comte and to re-start her life. She decided to pack up what she needed to take and just go.

“I don’t want any of the furniture. I’ll get a house clearance firm in and have done with it,” she said to Jo. “I’m going to put post-it notes on one or two items I might consider keeping but when it all comes down there is very little. This was Mum’s and Dad’s house and it was their stuff. It’s all slightly dated and worn. I’ve already got the photos and pictures I want. There’re one or two ornaments I’ll take for posterity but that’s all.”

The agent sent some people to look around very promptly, even before the paperwork was published. Fliss had given the OK for the details, and they were to be available in a few days.

“We do really like it,” the first couple said. “We still need to sell our house. Would you take an offer under those circumstances?”

Fliss told them she would consider an offer but would not take the house off the market for them. The second man was going to get his pregnant wife to come and have a look because he thought it would be just right for them and their growing family, even though it was a bungalow. It had enough bedrooms and the garden was large for a growing family to enjoy.

BOOK: Sense and French Ability
13.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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