A Year at the French Farmhouse

‘Yes, maybe I should see if they have any jobs going.’


As the evening had worn on, Emily had become more nervous. They’d taken a walk about ten o’clock at night, in an attempt to drive the restlessness from her body. But it hadn’t worked.

It had been a difficult night. Their bed at La Petite Maison was a neat, small double and even sharing it with an intimate partner might have been a challenge. Sharing it with a wriggling best friend and a mind full of worries had not led to the most relaxing night and Lily had woken early, her back aching more than it had after her fall from the iron bedstead.

At least being back at the house might mean a better night’s sleep, Lily told herself now. Despite having failed to buy anything to replace the two airbeds in the upper rooms, she was looking forward to at least being able to spread out a bit in bed again, even if her bottom would be grazing the floor at the same time. And, of course, there would be no rodent riots above her head in the wee small hours.

Earlier, over yet another pastry filled breakfast at Chloé’s, she’d introduced Emily to Dawn and Clive who’d promptly invited her to their party too. ‘It won’t be anything much,’ Dawn had reassured her. ‘Just a few mates and a few beers, you know? Come along and meet the gang!’

‘Thanks,’ Emily had said, with a smile.

But the minute the couple had left the breakfast room, her face had changed. ‘Meet the gang!’ Emily said. ‘You’re not going to go, are you?’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, they’re old enough to be your parents, for a start.’

‘Not that I have any parents,’ Lily had reminded her.

‘Sorry. But you know what I mean.’

‘Anyway, I hate to break it to you, Emily, but they’re only about ten years our senior,’ she’d added. ‘Old enough to be siblings; aunt and uncle at a push. But not parents, I’m afraid.’

‘I wish you’d stop that.’

‘What?’

‘All that maths. It’s bad for the brain. I stopped counting once I reached thirty-five and I’m much happier for it.’ Emily had winked.

‘Still, doesn’t stop you celebrating your birthday each year though?’

‘That’s different.’ Emily had grinned. Then, ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I just thought they seemed a bit… you know.’

‘What?’

‘Well, a bit “expatty”. You know, when Clive bent to tie his shoelace, I’m pretty sure I saw a glimpse of Union Jack boxers.’

‘Expatty? Is that even a word?’

‘It is now.’ Emily had grinned. ‘Look, I just mean, they seem like they’re a type.’

Lily had been silent for a moment. ‘I know what you mean,’ she’d said. ‘But I’ve come to realise the idea of properly integrating with my smattering of evening class French, well, it isn’t going to happen right away. And it wouldn’t hurt to have a few friendly faces in my camp. They seem nice. And I suppose, when it comes down to it, I’m an expat too, whatever that is…’

‘Posh immigrant.’

‘Ha. Well, less of the posh.’

‘Sorry. You’re probably right. I’d go mad if I didn’t have anyone I could talk to properly.’

‘Exactly. I can’t integrate with people if all I can do is ask directions to the tourist information centre.’

‘Or buy a train ticket to Paris.’

‘Or order coffee and a croissant.’

‘Exactly. I mean, I’m going to get more lessons like, yesterday. But I’ve realised – even if I study day and night – I’m pretty sure it’s going to take longer than I’d thought.’

‘Although Monsieur Crowe has a pretty good command of English.’

‘Monsieur Crowe?’

‘Russell to you,’ her friend had told her with a wink. ‘Or Frédérique.’

‘Oh Em, will you stop!’ she’d said, feeling her face go red. Ever since Emily had pointed out the likeness between Frédérique and the heartthrob from her favourite movie she couldn’t shake off the image. Now she was in danger of either flinging herself into Frédérique’s arms and calling him Max or asking to see his vineyard next time she saw him.

‘Shall we sort the beds while we’re waiting?’ she said now to Emily, picking up the rather pathetic foot-pump that she’d bought from the supermarket.

Luckily both beds needed repumping – something that was ordinarily a chore, but got both their minds off the imminent call. When they finally finished – legs aching – it was time. ‘I’m so fucking nervous,’ Emily said just before she dialled.

‘I know you are, love,’ Lily said, putting an arm round her. ‘But it’s better to know.’

‘I know. Sorry if I’ve been a bit over the top. It’s the nerves.’

‘Over the top? You? Never.’ Lily smiled.

Emily put the phone to her ear. ‘Do you mind if I?’ she said, gesturing to the next room.

‘Sure.’

To give her friend some space, Lily stepped out of the front door into the garden, but, restless with anxiety, found herself walking down the road that led past the campsite to the beachside lake. Although she’d driven by and given it a quick look when she’d first arrived, she hadn’t since taken the time to explore it properly, and never on foot.

The morning still had a nip in the air, but the sun was breaking through, gently shining on the road ahead of her. After passing the entrance to the campsite, set in between a canopy of trees, the road started to open out, and soon she’d reached the wooden walkway that led to the lakeside sand.

Other than a couple walking their dog a little along the beach and a couple of campervans parked in the small car park, she was completely alone. The lake stretched out to the distance and, had she not known, she could easily have imagined that she was on an island, surrounded by the bluest of seas. Later, she knew, the car park would begin to fill as holidaymakers and locals made the most of the chance to swim, take out one of the canoes for hire, or sit at the ramshackle beach hut and order white wine and a crêpe or barquette de frites. But for now, at this hour, it was all hers.

She slipped off her trainers and walked across the soft sand to the lake’s edge. The shallow water was clear against the sand but became murkier as it stretched away and deepened. She spotted a tiny shoal of fish – each no bigger than her smallest fingernail – darting and moving together as she dipped her toes into the water for the first time.

In England, they’d visited some relatively remote places, but wherever they’d gone she had always been able to hear the faint hum of traffic on a distant motorway, the purr of cars on nearby roads, music emanating from vehicles or houses or tiny speakers tucked into oblivious ears. Here, other than the odd bark of a dog, she realised she was enveloped in a peaceful silence, with no throbbing undertone.

She stretched her arms up, spreading her fingers and luxuriating in the sensation of releasing tension from the furthest part of her. Perhaps she could come and do yoga on this beach, meditate, do all the things she hadn’t had time for before. Actually practise self-care instead of sharing quotes about it online. Bathe her eyes in the beauty of a landscape that was entirely natural as far as her eyes could see.

This is why she’d moved here. The tranquillity, the silence, the sense that time was hers to stretch, shape, seize or drift along with as she wished. Yes, there was work to do, bills to pay; there would be difficulties no doubt with admin and renovations and setting up a business. But as long as she could walk to this lake, look out over the expanse of deep, calm water, ground herself somehow in the nature her body had craved more than she’d realised, then she could find the strength for anything else that came her way.

The thought brought her back to herself – Emily would be finished with her call by now. Feeling a tingling sensation in her fingers, she walked back over the sand, which covered her skin with a rough, uneven coating. As she stepped onto the wooden decked path, she felt the sand begin to crumble away, and by the time she was at the edge of the tarmacked road, she felt clean enough to slip her trainers back on.

She half walked, half jogged to the edge of the parking area; breathing heavily and resolving to improve her fitness now she had the time to do so. Then suddenly a small figure appeared where the road curved.

It was Emily.

‘Em!’ Lily called, waving a hand. She felt suddenly guilty – why had she come so far from the house? The figure stopped and then started moving more quickly towards her. Lily began upping her pace in turn, wanting to reach her friend quickly and apologise for not being there when she’d received the news, whatever it was.

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