Sense and French Ability (26 page)

The raised flood defences were covered in colour. One whole tonne of flower bulbs had been donated and an army of late summer and autumn visitors had volunteered their time, alongside those of them who were fit enough to do the work, to plant them. Now the flowers were bobbing their bright heads in the breeze. It was such a warming sight.

Fliss smiled. ‘Soul food’.

With some good sense and French ability with a tractor, they had survived.

‘This is all something that surely should be celebrated,’ Fliss thought, turning her mind to the upcoming grand parade and day of fun.

Visitors to the village could not believe the photographs of the devastation that hung in Jerome’s newly refurbished restaurant. He had not qualified for much insurance money, but the general regeneration must have inspired him to take himself in hand. Behind the scenes he was still chaotic, and still wore the same old apron but Jerome’s restaurant was so busy that people needed to book several weeks in advance for a Saturday night or Sunday lunchtime.

Instead of the long table with the tree trunk underneath, there was a range of individual tables and beautiful clean white cloths. He had painted the walls, and there were red and white check curtains at the windows replacing the slightly grey voile that had covered them before.

Nicolas and Alexandre Augustin still called in for a beer after work but M. Demille was just as often in the bar at lunchtimes. He was as dogmatic as ever, at times, but he and Jerome could be overheard having a heated but friendly exchange, or equally sharing a rude joke and laughing together.

Sometimes Éric was seen to display a flash of initiative, although Jerome still needed to tell him what to do a lot of the time – or perhaps he just liked to tell him and Éric put up with it? He helped around the place, quietly getting on with things.

Shielding his eyes from the sun, Jerome told Fliss his latest news, when she passed him on the street.

“We have a tribunal next week. They are to determine if Éric is well enough to handle his own affairs; his own money and so on.”

“How do you think it will go?” Fliss asked.

“I’ve had to give written evidence,” he explained. “I have said I think he will manage now.”

“That’s really good news.”

“Yes, life is much easier these days.” Jerome smiled down at her. “Changing the subject, how are the preparations coming on for the parade?”

“Very well, I think. We have the children’s fancy dress organised, with lots of entries promised, and all the stalls are booked for the entertainment. Melodie is determined to go dressed as Little Miss Sunshine, which is appropriate, but we’re working on that.” Fliss smiled. “How is your food stall coming along?”

“It is good. I have everything ordered and the ladies who do the church flowers are all helping me serve on the day. I’ve even got M. Demille signed up for cooking the chips. He has said we can use the tables and chairs from the Salle des Fêtes and le contonnier will set them up. All we need is fine weather. It would be so much better to be outside rather than indoors, if it were to rain.”

“It certainly would, especially since we are celebrating our regeneration after the flood and all that awful weather we had.”

“How are your other preparations coming along?” He asked Fliss, giving her a wink at the same time.

“I’m giving nothing away.” She laughed merrily. “All I’ll say is that everything has fallen into place now.”

He kissed her cheeks. “
Bon
,
à
bientôt
,
ma
petite
,” he added affectionately as he took his leave.

Fliss walked on with a lightness of step. She was heading to Madame Demille’s house to collect some vegetables. Fliss had tried her hand at it but hadn’t done so well with hers, despite Jean Chri’s advice. She’d had too much else to do and had been feeling sick recently. On arriving Fliss glanced across at the front lawn. If Madame Demille was looking out of her window she would have seen Fliss giggle to herself for there, displayed in all its glory, rising from a small pool was a large fish, with water spurting from its circular mouth. It still looked new and pale grey but when the lichen began to grow it would look better – possibly.

At midday Fliss met the school bus outside the Mairie. Melodie came bouncing down the steps with a painting in her hand and gave Fliss a hug as she took the image from her to admire her handiwork. Fliss was still finding it hard to say goodbye to her each morning but Melodie was old enough to go to the little school in the next village, now, and she was settling in well. Sometimes Melodie was pensive but overall she was happy and danced everywhere again. They talked about her mummy and daddy quite often. She had their picture in her bedroom in the farm house.

They lived there now, permanently, but Fliss had kept the bed and breakfast business going. It suited them well. She had her own occupation which was good for when Jean Chri worked long hours and she needed something of her own to do. It kept Fliss busy and with looking after the three of them, soon to be four, her family, she was happily occupied.

*

The morning of the festivities dawned bright and clear. Fliss was so relieved. She had been watching the meteo every day for a week or more. This was a special day for them and not just because of the village celebration. It was their wedding day.

Jean Chri and she were to be married at the Mairie and then the whole village, plus any tourists who happened to be there, would all join together for a momentous parade and a day of celebration to remind themselves how lucky they were.

There were no guests for her to worry about this week, so Fliss had awoken in her old bedroom. It was still quite early and the curtains were open for the night-time stars and the morning light. The shadows of the forsythia bushes outside were dancing on her walls. Melodie was next door in another room. She had not woken yet. Fliss had peeped in at her before sliding back under the covers

She and Jean Chri had agreed to have one night apart in the old tradition. Melodie and Fliss were to get ready there, and he would get dressed for their ceremony at the farm house.

Jerome, Jo and Harriet were coming to meet them just before eleven o’clock, and they would walk down the road together to meet Jean Chri. Then they would all arrive at the Mairie together. After finally rising, Fliss was too excited to eat but she made a cup of tea and took it outside. It was mild and still. A blackbird was sitting on the top of the roof and singing. It was a perfect sound on a perfect day.

‘I love my life. I never dreamed that I could feel so complete.’ Fliss sighed.

“Fliss, where are you?” She heard the high-pitched voice calling her name.

“I’m out here ma chérie,” she responded, rising to take her cup indoors to greet Melodie’s sleepy face and tousled blonde hair with a kiss.

“It’s today, at last,” she smiled back at Fliss. “It’s been ages coming and now it’s here.”

“We need to shower, have breakfast and get ready,”

The morning was going quickly. Fliss dried and brushed Melodie’s hair, until it was shining and beautiful, and helped her with her dress. It was a shade of sky blue to match her eyes. There were small pink and white rosebuds sewn to the skirt here and there. The cream lace collar framed Melodie’s little face and bright cheeks. In her hair she wore a small crown of the same rosebuds. Fliss looked at her and smiled.

‘I love her more than I can describe to myself, or anyone else, except Jean Chri,’ she thought.

Fliss was ready to put on her own dress. She had chosen the same cream lace and had added a blue satin ribbon around her waist. The swelling to come was still not showing, but she instinctively placed a hand on her stomach in protection. The sash was the exact same shade as Melodie’s dress, the colour tying them together.

The dress fitted Fliss’s frame, but the godets in the skirt gave a flattering swirl below her hips. She had the same crown of rosebuds as Melodie in her hair, and roses of the same colour in her bouquet specially ordered at great expense – well, it was her wedding day!

Melodie and she stood together in front of the old fashioned cheval mirror. The little girl slipped her hand into Fliss’s and looked up at her.

“You look lovely,” she said artlessly.

“We both look very fine,” Fliss responded. “Are we ready, do you think?”

Melodie nodded.

Just then, there was the clang of the bell at the door. Fliss quickly slipped her feet into her low-heeled cream shoes.

Answering the door, she was surprised and delighted to see who was there. Smiling, and in her very best dress and coat, was Madame Marie. They had spoken on the phone fairly regularly but Fliss had fully understood that she would not be able to attend her wedding. It was a long way for her and she was elderly.

“Oh, I’m so pleased to see you!” Fliss cried. “I thought you couldn’t make it.”

They greeted each other with a kiss before Madame Marie drew Fliss to her and hugged her generously.

“My dear, Fliss, you look so lovely.” She smiled at her warmly and if Fliss hadn’t known better she could have sworn there were tears in her eyes.

Breaking off a rosebud from her bouquet, Fliss slipped it through Madame’s button hole. It meant a lot to her that she was there.

At that moment the bell at the door was heard again and upon opening it Fliss was again touched by the sight of Jerome with Jo and Harriet on either side of him, their arms tucked through his. He was freshly shaved and, to her great surprise, he was in a suit with a white shirt and grey tie. Fliss had never seen him look so smart.

“Well, are you ready?” he asked.

Fliss looked down at Melodie fondly, and could see that she was barely containing her excitement. Fliss nodded and beamed.

Taking Melodie’s hand, and stepping out into the sunshine, they started down the steps with Jerome escorting Madame Marie and Jo with Harriet behind them. They made a smart, proud little parade of their own.

As Melodie and Fliss arrived at the bottom of the steps a sight greeted their eyes that Fliss had certainly not expected. All the way down the street, both sides were lined with people from the village. Spontaneously, they all started clapping until the air was filled with amazing sound. As they passed, the people fell in behind Jo and Harriet. The sound turned to singing behind them and Fliss could not think of a more pleasing accompaniment.

At the end of the triumphal parade, in the middle of the route and waiting for her, was Jean Chri. As Fliss arrived by his side she could see, in his dark eyes, the light of his love. They were together, as a family; her family.

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Sense and French Ability
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