Gemini Rain

by Lj McEvoy

  Honestly, she didn’t know why she picked this little village so close to Marseille the second largest city in France, wanting to be in the countryside but close to a city because she knew she’d go crazy stuck in the middle of nowhere. But after visiting so many different places like La Rochelle, Bergerac and even close to Paris, all were just as good and as beautiful as here, but none of the houses had the feel to it like this one, it definitely emanated the word ‘home’ with undeniable charm. And Marseille reminded her so much of Dublin, it had a soul of its own. As much as Dublin was Ireland’s gateway to Europe, Marseille still gave a cosmopolitan atmosphere as the gateway to the Mediterranean and Africa.

  The view alone of the Provencal village with its small church and shops, its obligatory playing area for the popular game of Boules and its plane trees made her want to rent it straight away. Once inside the house it’s design was modern which was a surprise as the outside was so traditional with its blue shutters and Provencal stone. Along with the dressed stone arches, antique floor tiles and open wooden beams she noticed that there were light bulbs and a fantastically all mod-con kitchen, ‘at least the previous occupiers didn’t take the kitchen presses with them this time,’ she laughed.

  Now that was something she couldn’t understand about the French, if they moved from rented accommodation or even when they sold a house, they took everything, one place she viewed only had the kitchen sink, even the sockets in the walls were gone with wires just hanging from each hole!

  But this house was welcoming and bright, she felt the people who lived here were happy but when she found out it was a divorce case she decided that they must have been happy at some time in their marriage.

  Sitting down again to continue with her typing her mind then turned to the events of this morning, ‘poor Gabrielle,’ sighing as she stopped her work yet again.

  Usually she greeted Lauren with a wide smile and a kiss on each cheek but Lauren knew straight away that something was wrong as they gave each other that familiar French greeting of kissing each cheek. There was no smile this morning; her eyes were bloodshot as if she was crying and her hearty chuckle was gone when she spoke. Earlier she didn’t see Jean-Pierre in the forest where she jogged with both of her new friends now becoming part of Lauren’s early morning routine.

  The torture they were putting themselves through, or rather what their son was putting them through. After Peter’s death, she found it hard to comprehend how people gave up on their marriage so easily, then she admittedly sighed, ‘Maybe, like us they tried, maybe like me they were too stubborn, too bloody proud to admit their mistakes.’

  It was only then she made the connection, ‘the owners of this house are divorced or are getting divorced. I wonder is this their house?’ But she soon dismissed the thought, ‘no, they must live in Paris, sure isn’t that where the divorce is taking place now.’

  This morning, Gabrielle rambled on so much about David’s adultery; his temper tantrums and emotional outbursts, the poor woman is lucky Lauren hates spreading gossip never contemplating repeating a word. ‘Well actually Lauren,’ correcting herself, ‘you hate gossip about yourself, vicious gossip. Was it not one of the reasons you left Ireland?’ cringing at the thought.

  Most of what Gabrielle said Lauren understood soon coming to the conclusion that she didn’t like this David. It’s sounded to her like he was a spoilt brat and yet Gabrielle and Jean-Pierre didn’t give her the impression that they would treat any of their children differently or would spoil them. ‘Perhaps he’s one of those crazy geniuses who have a peculiar outlook on life, then again it could be the lifestyle he leads,’ she thought. All the ‘Yes Men’ in that line of business no wonder people lose their grip on reality.

  After Gabrielle first spoke about him in one of their earlier encounters, Lauren decided to check information about him on the Internet so as to show an interest, ‘the woman is so proud of all her sons,’ Lauren thought.

  Although there were many sites in French which she ignored mainly because she knew she wouldn’t understand them, she eventually found two English films he took cameo roles in and was prepared the next time they spoke about their families. Gabrielle was delighted when Lauren knew some of his work calling out to Jean-Pierre to inform him that his son was also known in Lauren’s home of England. ‘Ireland,’ Lauren silently corrected her, ‘I’m from Ireland.’

  Finishing with the typing she headed for the kitchen to make a cup of tea and prepare for her children’s usual attack on her food supplies. Wondering if she should call by the farm before collecting Emma and Keith from school, she stopped herself. Only call when one is invited this isn’t Ireland, but they were so friendly to her. ‘Ah, stuff French protocol I’ll call anyhow!’ she said to no-one in particular as there was no-one there to correct her manners. It was 3.30pm.

  Chapter 9

  The door of the farmhouse swung open.

  ‘Yes!’ The tall, dark-haired woman looked down at Lauren with distaste.

  ‘Sorry, but I was looking for Gabrielle, I spoke with her this morning…’ Lauren started to get nervous, maybe this was a bad idea she thought arching her neck to look up to the woman. ‘Christ she’s tall enough without using the high doorstep to tower over me.’

  ‘Listen, if you’re another reporter you can leave now, it’s your fault in the first place,’ the woman now starting to raise her voice.

  ‘No, no you’re mistaken. I’m a…Ah, it doesn’t matter,’ without realising she was speaking in English, ‘I’m sorry,’ turning to walk towards her car, ‘Big mistake Lauren,’ she muttered under her breath. Opening the Landcruiser’s door she heard Jean-Pierre call, she looked up as he was running towards her.

  ‘Lauren I’m sorry for my daughter-in-law’s greeting, she didn’t realise who you were,’ taking her arm, ‘please come in, Gabrielle will be happy for your company.’ Lauren felt by his grip new company was definitely on the menu.

  Walking towards the doorway this time the tall woman’s expression was not of anger, Lauren noted the smiling but apologetic face now greeting her looked more natural or rather more comfortable on the woman’s olive skinned features.

  ‘I’m sorry, Madame I didn’t realise you were our new neighbour. Gabrielle has spoken many times about you but I do shift work in the hospital in Marseille rarely getting to meet new arrivals, in this village that is,’ she smiled. Lauren looked up to her offering her hand with Veronique gladly accepting.

  The three entered the house together with Lauren lingering slightly waiting for them to lead the way. Once inside the kitchen Gabrielle greeted her new friend with her usual cheerful zest, but the smile was soon gone from her face, ‘The news from Paris is bad, I’m afraid,’ the tears starting to commence again. Like this morning Lauren felt a little uneasy at the Gabrielle’s openness.

  ‘Now Gabrielle,’ Veronique tried to calm her mother-in-law as she eased them both to the table, ‘Lauren is here to see if you are okay, that is all,’ she was getting concerned Gabrielle would say too much.

  Recognising her concern Lauren interceded, ‘I don’t need to know the details, but you will recover from this, believe me. Trust me, time can heal.’

  Gabrielle searched Lauren’s face, the young woman spoke with such certainty but her eyes always revealed another story. They were sky blue, penetrating and should shine like a bright summer sky but they were always sad and dull. ‘Has she truly grieved for her husband yet?’ Remembering when her own mother died, her father showed strength to everybody but she heard him cry late at night when all should be silent.

  Veronique placed four small coffee cups and home made biscuits on the table as she sat down. Looking toward Jean-Pierre, he was standing at the back door putting on his jacket, ‘Are you not joining us?’ she enquired surprised by his actions.

  ‘No I’ll leave you women to talk and use this opportunity to take the dogs for a brief walk. I won’t be long, just to check on the goats. Good idea, yes?’ winking at them as he left.<
br />
  ‘I’m sorry but I’ve got to leave soon too,’ Lauren checked her watch, it took thirty minutes to get to the school and it was now 4pm, school finished at 4.45pm. ‘I just called because I was worried for you after this morning. I hope you don’t mind my intrusion,’ knowing an apology was in order knowing the French little intricacies on protocol.

  ‘But of course not,’ Gabrielle reassuringly took her hand. ‘You are always welcome and don’t mind Veronique,’ winking at her daughter-in-law, ‘I trust you.’ And with that she commenced her story of the day’s events in Paris.

  Veronique was surprised how easily Gabrielle talked with this stranger, but decided her best option was to keep quiet knowing how Gabrielle and Jean-Pierre were usually good judges of character. Watching the two women speak she saw an inkling of a bond forming between them. She regretted never having that with Gabrielle, their relationship was a typical mother-in-law, daughter-in-law one. Close because they both had love for the same man but distant because of the different era in which each woman was raised.

  Veronique’s own mother was still living in the village below she was the local mid-wife with Veronique following in her footsteps. Loving her work in the maternity section in one of the large Marseille hospitals, the atmosphere was so full of life, so happy. Not that it wasn’t happy here normally that is, but lately everything was centred on David and his impending divorce from Francoise.

  She was dying to tell them she was pregnant again but Joel said to wait until all had settled down and the family was back to normal. She knew Gabrielle and Jean-Pierre would be delighted, Gabrielle had noted she was putting on a bit of weight, ‘You can afford to, you’re tall and you work too hard,’ Gabrielle informed her. Veronique was thrilled she noticed and was going to tell her at that very moment but she held back, after the heartbreak of two miscarriages she and Joel knew it was best to keep quiet until after the scan and the okay from the doctor.

  Veronique studied this new woman in Gabrielle’s life, of average height and extremely fair skinned her dark hair was tied back into a ponytail which emphasized the soft pretty features of her face, could Veronique see some auburn highlights and she wore black which probably over-emphasised her fair skin. Veronique noted she was listening to Gabrielle intensely, with compassion and understanding, her expression would only change if she couldn’t understand what Gabrielle was saying, rarely interrupting or showing opinion, but doubts were ticking away at the back of Veronique’s head wondering if this could woman be trusted. ‘And why choose to live here?’ she thought.

  Eventually Gabrielle finished with her story checking the clock on the dresser, ‘Oh Mon Dieu, but you better leave you’re late!’

  ‘Ohh shit,’ Lauren jumped up quickly saying her goodbyes.

  Meeting Jean-Pierre in the courtyard ‘A demain,’ waving to him as she drove off. ‘Until tomorrow?’ now why on earth did I say that, tomorrow was Wednesday, Emma and Keith had no school and she never saw Jean-Pierre and Gabrielle on Wednesdays. Getting your French mixed up again, Lauren corrected herself, feeling slightly embarrassed by the mistake.

  Back inside the farmhouse Gabrielle asked for an opinion from Veronique. She respected Veronique’s point of view, with her young daughter-in-law always returning the compliment.

  ‘Oh okay, I like her she seems a nice person,’ Veronique admitted, ‘but as to whether I trust her that’s another story. You don’t know who she is. Where does she get an income? She could work for a magazine or employed to write a book about David, the family, anything.’

  ‘I’m sorry Veronique but I disagree,’ Jean-Pierre now entering the kitchen, ‘my wife has always been a good judge of character and I like the girl too. Perhaps invite her to dinner at the weekend Maman, and we’ll see through her children if she is someone to be trusted and David should know, after all it’s his house she lives in.’

  They all secretly smiled, someone outside the family who they could trust, now that would be good for everyone.

  Lauren ran to the school, ‘Oh Shit, they’re not at the gates,’ starting to panic; she could feel the sweat trickling down her back, ‘bloody Marseille traffic, bloody parking, why the hell does delays always happen when you’re in a hurry! Maybe I should ask Jean-Pierre if there’s a quicker route instead of having to go through that part of the city.’ Looking around there was no sign of them in the schoolyard, running up the drive that led to the large entrance of the school she jumped up the steps two or three at a time. Running through the doorway she heard a familiar voice coming from her right.

  ‘You’re late!’ the serious, deep voice stating the obvious.

  Trying to stop her run Lauren skidded on the floor just stopping herself from landing flat-arsed on the ground. ‘Oh well hello there,’ sounding breathless but calmer than she felt, ‘my sincerest apologies oh great one, but I was talking to our neighbours and I lost all track of time.’

  ‘You mean you forgot about us. Typical! And we thought we were the most important things in your life,’ Emma frowned placing her hands on her hips and stomping her foot on the floor copying an actress she saw on TV. It was a good way to show annoyance and constantly practiced in front of her mirror just for a scene like this and delighted the opportunity was now arising.

  ‘I still love you Maman,’ Keith ran over to her, ‘and hello to you too,’ copying one of his mother’s familiar greetings.

  Emma then ran over, ‘Turncoat!’ scolding Keith but the three of them kissed and hugged.

  ‘Maman, I think you should buy me a cell phone and then I’ll always know when you’ll be late, now wouldn’t that be a good idea?’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Lauren responded sarcastically, that was taking the growing up quickly a bit too far. This morning Emma suggested a TV for each of them in their own bedrooms so they could watch their own programmes, ‘Think of the French we could learn mammy.’

  ‘Ah, so you’ve found your mother!’ Sr. Albert came from her office, she had a kindly face and a smile for everyone but she looked at Lauren questionably.

  ‘I’m sorry Sister, I should have telephoned. I got delayed and the traffic was chaotic then I couldn’t find any parking,’ although the nun was the same height, since her own schooldays Lauren always felt the need to be apologetic to nuns and bent her head forward unable to look at the woman.

  ‘It’s fine, Madame. Emma had the common sense and maturity to come back into the school with Keith. I just left them for a moment to answer my telephone, I thought it might be you,’ now Sr. Albert was apologising for leaving the children unattended. ‘Bon soiree mes enfants, Good evening Madame,’ she shook Lauren’s hand retreating back to her office.

  Lauren hugged Emma and winked, ‘That’s my girl!’ The maturity is definitely my side of the family she thought it was just happening too quickly to accept it, ‘Let’s go for ice cream!’

  When they returned home, they were just entering the door as the telephone started to ring. Emma ran over to answer it expecting it was someone from Ireland perhaps an old friend from school.

  Lauren was still in the hallway picking up the trail Emma left behind her. Coat, schoolbag, hat and shoes, ‘Well, I’ll never lose her, just follow the trail she friggin’ leaves behind.’ Stopping to hear the conversation, Lauren realised Emma was talking in French to someone, ‘Christ, I hope it’s not a hoax call.’ Quickly walking into the sitting room, Emma walked by her, ‘It’s for you,’ she said disappointingly.

  ‘Thanks,’ Lauren took the phone from her, ‘did you happen to ask who it is?’ Emma shrugged, ‘It’s a woman.’

  ‘Telesales,’ Lauren thought, ‘Hallo.’

  ‘Ca va Lauren,’ it was Gabrielle, ‘you and your daughter sound very alike, I thought it was you but she speaks excellent French children learned very quickly, don’t they.’

  ‘Gabrielle!’ Lauren threw her eyes up to heaven the little bit of confidence she gained in speaking French now disappearing, ‘thanks for the compliment I’ll remember to tell Emma
but is everything okay?’ How did Gabrielle get her telephone number?

  ‘Yes, but of course! I hope you don’t mind but Jean-Pierre and I would like it very much if you and your children could join us for dinner next Sunday evening,’ her voice had a spring in it which was missing earlier that day. ‘It is as you like, you can discuss it with your children first.’

  Lauren was delighted her first invitation to savoir the delights of a traditional French family dinner, ‘Oh I’d love to, at what time seven, eight o’clock?’ unable to hide the delight in her voice.

  ‘Seven, we can have some apéritifs first, what do your children like to eat? Are they used to French cooking yet?’ on hearing her friends delight Gabrielle there and then decided to prepare her finest cuisine.

  ‘Sometimes they like it and sometimes they don’t, they have lunch in the school canteen of course. They’re typical kids and will try anything new, once they like the look of it. Oh, thanks for the invitation, this is wonderful.’

  ‘Please don’t get too excited, it’s only my cooking,’ Gabrielle chuckled, ‘it’s not of the French restaurant style.’

  ‘I know, I know please don’t get me wrong, it’s just that I didn’t expect to make new friends so easily and for you to invite me to a family dinner, it’s just so…so…well I just didn’t expect it,’ getting lost for French words Lauren tried to calm down and not sound too desperate.

  ‘Well, it will be a family dinner because everybody will be here, Joel telephoned from Paris my three boys are coming home tonight, it will be wonderful I know it will. Maybe you were right, things will get better. But I must let you go for now, perhaps we’ll meet for our little chat on Thursday morning, yes?’

  ‘Yes, of course Gabrielle, a Jeudi. Au revoir.’