A Year at the French Farmhouse

‘OK?’


‘In England, we don’t usually use the term “lover” very much. It’s… well, it’s only really used to talk about someone you have…’ she lowered her voice ‘… sex with. And probably not much else.’

‘Ah, but—’

‘Hang on…’

‘OK.’ He looked chastened.

‘It just… it makes me feel uncomfortable. It’s a language thing. But maybe… well, we could say “girlfriend”?’

‘But you are not a girl?’ he said. ‘You are a woman! It is strange this expression.’

‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ she said, thinking about it. But they couldn’t say ‘partner’, could they? It sounded far too permanent. ‘Well, what other expression could we use?’

‘Peut-être, mon chou?’ he suggested.

‘My…’ She racked her brain. ‘Cabbage?’

‘Yes, but we don’t fink of it as cabbage, eh? It is short for choux à la crème, a delicious cake, eh?’

‘Oh.’ She shook her head. ‘But… no.’

‘Then,’ said Frédérique, ‘I will call you mon coeur.’

‘My heart?’ she said. It was certainly better than being a cabbage. And definitely less graphic than being called his lover.

‘Oui.’

She nodded. ‘I like it.’

He smiled. ‘Well, I am glad you can tell me this, eh, mon coeur. I do not wish to cause you any pain.’

‘De rien,’ she replied. It is nothing. ‘But look, that’s not all. I… I’m not sure we’re seeing this relationship in the same way.’

‘Oui?’

‘Yes. I want to be clear, from the start. Because… I don’t want anyone to get hurt.’

‘But of course! I would ’ate for you to get ’urt, my love.’

‘OK. It’s just you seem… very… well, keen.’

‘Keen? What is this keen?’

‘Um,’ she said, quickly scrolling on her phone translator. ‘Désireux?’

‘You want,’ he said, his eyebrows bunching together, ‘that I love you less? That I am not so pleased to be with you?’

It did seem crazy when he put it like that. ‘Not exactly,’ she said. ‘Just… well, you know, I’ve only just broken up with Ben. We were together for twenty years. I have a son. It’s all new… and I don’t feel ready for too much. I need to be slow… careful, you know?’

He nodded. ‘I understand.’

‘You do?’

‘Oui, now you tell me, je comprends! I know exactly what you wish me to do, eh?’ he said, giving her an elaborate wink. ‘I am very good, of course, at understanding les femmes.’

‘Are you sure? Because I mean,’ she said, not convinced his reaction was as she’d expect it to be in the circumstances. ‘I can explain… what I’d like is…’

‘Oui,’ he said, and it was his turn to reach across and touch her lips gently to stop her from talking. The fizzing sensation happened again and suddenly she wanted to take her words back and ask him to come to her maison and make wild passionate love, get married and never leave her side. Luckily, her head was just about able to overrule her enthusiastic heart.

‘I…’ she began.

‘Shh,’ he said, shaking his head fondly. ‘Mon coeur, you ’ad me at “be slow”.’

‘I…’

‘And I know, don’t worry, exactly what it is I am going to do.’





33





‘And you haven’t seen him since?’ Sam said, pushing the trolley laden with wine, beer, paper plates and cups and a badly balanced cake box along the aisle.

It was lunchtime, and the supermarket had emptied of people as it usually did the minute the restaurants started serving food. Some of the local stores shut up between twelve and two, but the supermarket remained open and tantalisingly unused in the middle of the day. They were making the most of the wide, empty aisles and lack of queues to stock up on party items before the house-warming.

‘No, But I mean it’s only been a few days, so I’m not worried. He’s sent a few texts, and he’s coming to the party,’ she replied. At first she’d thought she might have upset him, but his replies to her messages had been cheerful and upbeat. He’d just kept a little distance – which is exactly what she’d wanted.

She stopped and examined the vast array of breadsticks, eventually choosing the plain ones and putting six boxes into the trolley.

‘Sounds like you got through to him,’ Sam said, as they moved off again.

‘I really think I did. I was worried, actually, that he might not take it very well. But he seemed to be fine. Maybe a bit too fine.’

‘Too fine?’ Sam asked, making a face.

Lily shrugged. ‘I mean, it’s a little bit bruising for the ego if he really doesn’t feel anything at all, after having professed his undying love.’

‘Yeah, I see what you mean.’

‘Still, it’s certainly less complicated than having him turn up and serenade me at the beach.’

‘Definitely. Although having seen Frédérique, I have to say he’s a complication quite a few people would kill for.’

‘Well, yes, he’s a nice guy.’

‘Nice? Lily, he’s flipping gorgeous! Although don’t tell Gabriel I said that,’ she laughed, taking a band from her pocket and expertly pulling her red hair into a neat ponytail. ‘He’s grown a little man belly recently and is totally paranoid I’m going to run off with a muscle-bound farmer or something.’

‘Ha. Poor guy. When am I going to meet Gabriel anyway?’ asked Lily, changing the subject. ‘Can he make it to the party?’

‘He says almost definitely,’ said Sam. ‘Which coming from him is actually pretty amazing.’

‘Shy?’ Lily smiled.

‘Yeah, and socially awkward, but don’t tell him I said that.’

‘As if I would!’

‘Anyway, he’s great once you get to know him – just takes him a bit of time to thaw out, you know?’

Lily nodded. ‘Basically, the opposite of Frédérique.’

‘Yep!’ Sam stopped to take in the array of cheese. ‘Are we going down the cheese route?’ she asked.

‘Well, when in France,’ said Lily, picking up a few different types. She wasn’t a big cheese fan, but she’d lay a bit out with some bread and let people help themselves.

‘Anyway, at least you’ve been upfront with Frédérique,’ Sam went on, leaning some of her weight on the trolley and lifting her feet momentarily as it glided along. ‘I think he’s keen enough to hang around whatever boundaries you set in place.’

‘We’ll see,’ Lily said. ‘I’m trying not to put any pressure on it. Just see what happens.’

‘Good idea.’

‘Don’t tell him, but I have actually missed him a bit,’ she added.

‘Really?’

‘It’s the first time I’ve had a chance to, I suppose. I’d kind of got used to him popping up everywhere I went!’

‘But,’ said Sam, more carefully, ‘have you thought any more about Ben? I mean, you said that he’d told you he would have liked to come to France, right? If he’d been feeling OK?’

Lily stopped by a shelf heaving with crisps and picked up a giant packet of ready salted. ‘I’ve been thinking about him more recently – all the stress of buying the house and kind of settling in here, or starting to, sort of put him out of my mind. The way you can kind of switch off a bit from problems when you’re on holiday?’

Sam nodded.

‘I was surprised I wasn’t more… well, heartbroken I suppose when I first got here,’ she said, looking at the enormous packet of crisps in her hand.

‘Uh-huh?’

‘But now that the legal bit is done and I’m sort of getting on with normal life… I’m starting to notice that he’s not with me. I know that sounds weird – but I think it’s finally sunk in that this isn’t a holiday. And my normal life… well, he was always part of that. Always.’

Sam touched her shoulder briefly. ‘That’s tough.’

Lily flicked a tear away. ‘It is what it is, I suppose. I mean, it’s natural to feel… to miss him.’ She put the crisps in the trolley and grabbed a couple of other bags.

‘Any regrets?’ Sam asked, glancing quickly at her, then back at the food when she noticed Lily’s tears.

Lily began to move towards the next aisle. ‘Sometimes,’ she said. ‘Not regrets about being here. Wishing it had been different, I suppose.’

‘Yeah, ’course.’

‘But there’s no point – is there – running back to him. Because I’d have to live with knowing that I wasn’t enough, that he couldn’t take a risk for me. And I’d be giving up my dream, not just putting it on hold.’

‘Oh, Lily.’

Lily shrugged. ‘There’s no solution; the only thing I can do is move on,’ she said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing. ‘And I’m here and making a new life. And hopefully in a while I’ll be able to move on properly.’

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