Jojo's French Escape

by Lorraine Wilson

  ‘Maybe.’ Poppy’s expression is a little more hopeful and she drinks her drink instead of playing with the glass. ‘She can be very …’

  ‘Persuasive?’

  ‘Stubborn, manipulative and unable to see anyone else’s point of view … was what I was going to say.’ Poppy pulls a face.

  ‘Okay, well, failing all diplomatic measures we could get Flump to run off with it on the day,’ I suggest. ‘All I need to do is put it within his reach, tell him not to touch it and he’ll think running off with it is a great game and a way to get me to chase him.’

  ‘That’s true.’ Poppy actually smiles this time. ‘Great idea. Thanks, JoJo.’

  ‘So, are we taking the mature and sensible solution or the cowardly one?’

  ‘Fuck mature and sensible,’ Poppy says, her grin reminding me why I like her so much.

  ‘It seems having a puppy with a taste for larceny might actually come in handy. Who knew?’

  ‘Ah, Flump is adorable. Don’t worry about the stealing, I’m sure he’ll grow out of it. Anyway, tell me, how are things with you, JoJo?’ Poppy fixes her attention on me suddenly. ‘Sorry I’ve been so self-obsessed lately.’

  She hasn’t. She is one of the most sensitive and least self-obsessed people I know but there’s no point telling her so. She just gets anxious about things and when that happens it’s like she gets lost in her own head. That’s how she described it to me one time. I think it has something to do with her creativity.

  ‘I am okay, thanks. You don’t need to worry about me, just focus on your wedding and your deadline.’

  I honestly don’t want to add my worries to everything she already has on her mind.

  ‘You and Cal seem … friendly,’ she says, her mouth twitching.

  ‘If that is a euphemism for shagging like rabbits then yes, we are friendly.’ I laugh.

  ‘So everything is … okay?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ I shrug. ‘I mean the chemistry is off the scale.’

  ‘So why only “suppose so”?’

  ‘It’s because it is off the scale that I’m worried.’ I pause and decide how best to explain it. ‘It scares me that I’ll get swept away by it. Like I did with Aiden.’

  ‘Is it the same as it was with Aiden though?’

  ‘No, it’s far more intense. It’s more everything … That’s what worries me. I don’t feel in control and if it’s more everything, that means I could be even more badly hurt than I was before.’

  ‘In control isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know,’ Poppy says. ‘If I’d stayed in control I wouldn’t have got together with Leo and be getting married soon.’

  ‘And you wouldn’t be worrying about veils either.’

  ‘True but even with all the wedding stress you know I wouldn’t change anything. I wouldn’t do anything differently.’

  ‘I know,’ I say, and I know the conversation is purely academic because I wouldn’t do anything differently either. Maybe I just needed to vent my anxiety, to get it out of my system. But as we drive home, I’m still plagued by a niggle, the niggle that says I’ve opened myself up to a whole world of hurt.

  ‘I think Flump has lost one of his puppy teeth.’ I get up off of my bedroom floor and hold it up to show Cal, who is still in my bed. Flump looks up with curiosity.

  ‘What are you going to do? Put it under his dog-bed cushion for the puppy tooth fairy to find?’ Cal jokes.

  ‘What a sweet idea.’ I laugh. ‘He can wake up to find a duck strip dog treat in its place in the morning.’

  ‘You’re really going to do it, aren’t you? You’re nuts about that puppy.’

  I shrug. ‘Maybe. You’ve got to admit you’re pretty fond of him too.’

  ‘He’s a little thief.’

  ‘But such a cute one.’

  Flump takes a flying leap onto the bed and sits on Cal’s chest, staring solemnly down at him.

  ‘Okay, he’s cute, I’ll give you that,’ Cal says and as though he’s understood every word Flump turns in a couple of circles and settles down on Cal to sleep. ‘It looks like I’m stuck here. My services as a dog bed are required.’

  Would it be so bad to be stuck here? I want to ask him but don’t know how. Don’t dare to is probably closer to the truth.

  I climb into bed next to Cal and cuddle up, taking some comfort from the warmth of his body next to mine. It’s been a couple of days since I talked to Poppy, but my niggles haven’t gone away. In fact, they seem to be doing overtime at the moment, but I’ve looked at my calendar and suspect they’re getting a fair bit of help from my not so friendly monthly hormones. I know from experience that this is not a great time of the month to pick a fight or start a serious discussion, no matter how much I might be itching to get Cal to declare exactly what his intentions towards me are.

  There’s nothing wrong with taking things slow. Nothing wrong with the fact Cal hasn’t told me he loves me. I mean I haven’t told him either and it’s his actions, not his words, that matter, surely?

  After five minutes of cuddling, Flump settling in between us, I crack and opt for the one thing I know will make things better.

  ‘I really need some chocolate.’

  ‘By chocolate I’m assuming you mean some of that highly processed sugar masquerading as chocolate I’ve seen you eating. Why don’t I make you a nice chocolate dessert like a mousse or a chocolate cheesecake for later? That way I know you’re getting good-quality ingredients.’

  ‘No, I need chocolate. But thank you,’ I say and mentally tell my hormones to cool it, he is only looking out for me and wants me to eat well. The hormones gnash their teeth a bit but agree to hold off savaging him for a while.

  ‘Why do you need chocolate?’ Cal looks bemused and my hormones do a little more teeth gnashing while I try to rein in my more irritable than usual temper. He doesn’t deserve it. I probably ought to warn him about the savage hormones – it’s only fair.

  ‘Let’s just say savage hormones are soothed when you feed them chocolate. It distracts them and stops them attacking,’ I reply as patiently as I can. ‘Science proves it’s true.’

  Cal pulls me into a hug and Flump manages to stick his head beneath Cal’s armpit so he can be a part of it.

  ‘Are you sure about that?’ His lips quirk.

  Damn, I’d hoped mentioning science would get him onside and appeal to his inner geek, but I might’ve known he’d expect me to reference the actual research.

  ‘You don’t believe me?’ I ask, raising an eyebrow.

  He merely raises an eyebrow back at me. I pretend to huff but don’t pull away from the hug.

  ‘Okay, so science actually says the darker and purer the chocolate the better, but my hormones happen to be very partial to Maltesers.’ I eye him with mock seriousness. ‘My hormones are so savage they have been known to mug an old lady for a Malteser. They also bite the heads off innocent males who get too close. The guilty ones too obviously.’

  ‘Is that so?’ The corners of Cal’s mouth twitch as though he really wants to smile but is trying to suppress it, unsure just how hormonal I am. ‘You know it is possible you are just a little low in magnesium. Have you tried—’

  ‘Don’t tell me to eat a sodding banana. I’ve had two bananas and a magnesium tablet already today. I really need chocolate.’

  ‘Would you like me to go out and get you some?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘You know, if you wanted chocolate you should’ve just said so at the start of the conversation …’ He grins wickedly and slips quickly out of bed before I can get to him.

  Not that I was really going to swat him. He’s going out for chocolate for me, and that makes him a modern knight on horseback as far as I’m concerned.

  Words are easy. Small, everyday actions speak louder.

  I’d rather focus on the trees right in front of me than worry about the bigger picture of the wood I can’t see. I have Cal here and now and I want to enjoy him without worrying about w
hat might come next.

  Chapter 12

  ‘Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage’

  Lao Tzu

  From annabelgrant@thestickybun.co.uk

  To joannagrant@thestickybun.co.uk

  Subject: Twitter thing

  So, there’s this thing you need to see. I know you’re not active on social media anymore but I think you should be aware of what’s being said. I know I’d want to know …

  @aidenholmes – I am truly sorry for @Jojogrant It’s a real shame she never got over me but what can I say, I fell in love. I hope she’ll find the maturity to sit down with us and talk. @sexinthesuburbs #sexinthesuburbs

  @sallyfletcher – @Jojogrant is my dearest friend. I deeply regret if she is upset with me and hope to meet up with her very soon. @sexinthesuburbs #sexinthesuburbs

  @sallyfletcher–Watch this space. South of France here we come. Hoping for a big reunion with my bestie @Jojogrant It’s time to move on #bestiesforgive #reunion #sexinthesuburbssouthoffrancespecial #sexinthesuburbs

  What a cow, eh?

  Hugs,

  Annabel

  xx

  From joannagrant@thestickybun.co.uk

  To annabelgrant@thestickybun.co.uk

  Subject: Twitter thing/WTF???

  They’re trying to make it sound like I’m the one in the wrong. Unbelievable. Though really, I shouldn’t be surprised by anything now. What is this apologising on Twitter about anyway? They’ve never apologised to me. Not even once.

  Oh, sod it. I’m going to do some cleaning and vent my anger on the bathrooms. As if I’d ever want to sit down with either of them.

  Love xx

  I attack the bathrooms with gusto, pouring bleach down plugholes and scrubbing at the showers, determined to eradicate every single smudge. My pre-menstrual hormones are not helping at all and as hard as I scrub, I can’t expunge their words from my brain. Will I ever be free from bloody Aiden? Why can’t he just leave me alone? I have no idea why they’re trying to stir things up again. As for Sally, well she’s definitely more beastie than bestie: #beastienotbestie – I wish I could tweet that. Except I’m definitely not going to. I’ve resisted the urge to fight back via social media for this long and they’re not drawing me out now. I learnt long ago there is absolutely no point in engaging. The only thing to do is to ignore them, as hard as that may be. If I do that for long enough they’ll go away.

  Eventually I run out of energy and collapse on a chair in the kitchen. Flump jumps up onto my lap for a cuddle, snuggling his head against my chest, trusting, lovable and utterly adorable. I stroke his silky soft fur and feel some of the tension leaving my shoulders. The surge of love I feel for him lifts my mood. I want to talk to Cal about it but don’t want to interrupt him and Leo again. There’s a strong chance I might cry, what with my unhelpful hormones and all, and I don’t want to look unbalanced. I try some of the yoga breathing Poppy taught me. Square breathing, I think she called it, though that might just be her name for it. I breathe in for a count of four, hold for a count of four, breathe out for a count of four, wait for four and then repeat the cycle.

  After a couple of rounds of square breathing and stroking Flump I’m feeling a lot calmer. Not happy exactly but at least not actively homicidal any more, so that’s an improvement.

  The dogs all pile into the kitchen, barking excitedly, greeting Cal when he comes in as though they haven’t seen him for months, rather than just a few hours.

  ‘Cup of tea?’ Cal has entered the room without my noticing.

  ‘Not sure.’ I bite my lip, looking down at Flump. My chest and throat are tight. I don’t feel quite right, but I don’t know how to ask for help.

  ‘A walk then? Maybe you need a change of scene.’ Cal places a hand on my back.

  ‘Maybe … Okay then.’ I think my nervous energy will be easier to cope with if I’m moving so I get up and grab Flump’s lead.

  Once we’re outside on the path leading to the lake Cal reaches out and takes my free hand. I’m keeping Flump on the lead until we’re well clear of Angeline’s donkeys. I can do without any additional stress today.

  I find comfort in his hand holding mine. In the hope that there is an ‘us’. In the gut-wrenching longing for it not to be just me alone against the world any more.

  ‘What’s up?’ he asks.

  I pass him my phone to show him the screen grabs of the tweets. It’s far easier than trying to tell him, given my tight throat and the tears threatening to fall. Cal reads them and then pulls me into a big hug. I rest my head on his chest and he strokes my hair. God, this feels nice. So, so lovely to be held and comforted. To feel connected again.

  Something inside me shifts and the desire to cry passes. Why do I care what they say when I have lovely Cal here next to me? I’m not going to let them get to me like this. Not any more.

  ‘Have you ever read The Power of Now?’ Cal asks as we walk to the lake.

  ‘No, but I’ve heard of it I think.’ I shrug. ‘I don’t really read self-help books. Sorry, no offence. They’re more self-development books. I just think of most of it as common sense.’

  ‘None taken.’ Cal laughs. ‘I think.’

  Maybe I shouldn’t have said ‘no offence’ then, but I’m really not in the best mood for making conversation.

  ‘So, what’s it about?’ I ask lightly, feeling the need to make amends. ‘You obviously think it’s relevant for me or you wouldn’t have brought it up.’

  ‘Okay, in a nutshell it’s basically saying the only time that exists for us is now.’

  ‘Hmm.’ I try to keep the scepticism out of my tone.

  ‘What’s already happened is past, it’s no longer happening and what’s going to happen is the future, it’s not actually happening yet.’ Cal pauses. ‘What the author is getting at, I think, is that spending our energies, thoughts and emotions on either the past or the future isn’t healthy for us. The only moment that really matters is right now. All you have to deal with right now is walking the dogs, so you don’t need to worry, just enjoy it. Be here with me. Not back in that awful place with Aiden and Sally. Or in a future scenario being ambushed by paparazzi. That may never happen, and you don’t need to deal with it now. I get that what happened was terrible, really horrible and I’m so sorry it happened to you, JoJo, but the thing to hold onto is that it’s not happening right now – and those tweets: they’re just words from people whose opinions you don’t rate any more.’

  ‘Okay, that kind of makes sense.’ I consider Cal thoughtfully. ‘What kind of self-centred, thoughtless celebrity are you anyway?’

  He laughs. Thankfully he gets the joke. Aiden was forever worrying about what he looked like. I had to keep propping up his ego, which in retrospect was kind of exhausting. I can’t remember the last time, or any time in fact, that Aiden discussed a book he’d read or expressed an interest in anything outside of his world. I like that Cal reads widely and is interested in the world around him. He’s certainly opened my eyes and my mind. He has a profound effect on me.

  I’d like to think I would’ve grown out of Aiden anyway, with or without what happened with Sally, but I honestly don’t know. Sexual chemistry can be a bitch. We had a connection of sorts; it just wasn’t a healthy one.

  Sexual chemistry can also be heavenly. I glance at Cal and feel the familiar desire curling and unfurling inside me. If sexual chemistry is going to make a fool of me, I’d much rather it was over a man like Cal. I can’t think of a worthier man to risk humiliating myself for. I’ve got to risk it. Cal is worth risking myself for. I’m sure of it.

  Can I tell him I love him? Can I be the first to mention the L word? I look at him again but lose my nerve.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Cal locks his gaze on mine, giving me that feeling he’s staring into my soul again.

  Tell him what I’m thinking? As if. Some thoughts are definitely not made to be shared. Not ever.

  ‘Just
what you said really.’ I try to keep my tone upbeat and casual but I’m not sure I succeed. ‘So you think I should let it go then? Just like that? Let them carry on spreading their version of the truth and who I am while I … I don’t know, look at the flowers and commune with the trees?’

  ‘No, I never said that,’ Cal explains patiently. ‘Just that it’s been suggested that no one who spends their time living in the past or the future can ever really be at peace. I’m not talking about what’s right or what’s fair or even how you get to the place where you can let go and just be. Just because getting to a place of peace is hard doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try it.’

  ‘Well, I suppose the other alternative, of hanging onto everything for ever, isn’t that appealing either,’ I admit. ‘I have to let go.’

  ‘Talking of letting go.’ Cal sweeps me into a hug. I untangle Flump’s lead and let him off to play in the lake; there’s not really anywhere else for him to go. Then I put my arms around Cal’s neck and we kiss like teenagers, only with a lot more skill. I’d forgotten how nice kissing could be. How it’s possible to lose yourself, for the world around you to disappear as the kissing stirs other, deeper desires.

  If I have to try living in the moment, I think I’ve found a wonderful way to practise …

  The next day I go to Mirepoix market with Cal. Walking around the bustling market with him I think it’s possibly the first time my heart has felt as sunny as the cloudless blue sky above. We’re holding hands. In public. And I’m not freaking out. I’m not worrying about what the world is thinking about me or saying about me. Living in the moment is curiously liberating. I feel great and being with Cal is just so natural. We are constantly touching in some way, even if it’s just a hand on an arm or holding hands. As though neither of us wants to break the physical connection, like we need to feel skin on skin. Being with him and not touching him just feels wrong.

  Cal is enthusing about the quality of the fruit and vegetables and the artisan bread and cheese. I buy some juicy-looking peaches, dark red cherries, my favourite Pink Lady apples and some fresh viennoiserie and let Cal choose the rest. He doesn’t need to sell me on the quality of the produce here at the market. I’ve been shopping here for a year and love it. Market day is the highlight of my week. I make another stop at a dried-fruit stall to buy dried strawberries and dried cherries, both utterly delicious, and then slip my arm through Cal’s as he walks happily around the stalls, telling me his plans. He’s going to cook for me over the next couple of days and test out some of the proposed menu for The Barn on me.