by Lj McEvoy
Both women smiled as they put their phones back into their respective cradles. Lauren danced into the kitchen only to be greeted by a mess on the table and on her children’s faces and hands, but she didn’t care. ‘Guess what?’ leaning over the kitchen table pushing jam jars, peanut butter and chocolate spread aside.
‘You’ve bought me a cell phone!’ Emma exclaimed.
‘Get stuffed, madam.’ Lauren laughed, ‘no, we’ve been invited to our neighbours for dinner next Sunday, how about that!’
‘Do they cook good chips?’ Keith always insists on chips for dinner.
‘Do they have children?’ Emma enquired. Lauren just smiled.
Chapter 10
Deciding they should walk down to the Corvasieur’s farm, it was a beautiful warm evening with the temperatures higher than in Ireland for that time of year, ‘its only ten minutes away anyhow,’ she scolded the kids when they moaned about having to walk. Making sure they wore their jackets as it could easily drop temperature late into the night the three of them bounced all the way down towards the Corvassier home, with Lauren glad she possessed the good sense to wear her small-heeled boots.
Gabrielle laughingly informed her that it was a casually dressed evening when she enquired about what to wear. So Keith was in one of his usual tracksuits but she made sure it was one of his newer ones and Emma wore a simple but very pretty royal blue dress which, Lauren admired, highlighted her daughter’s eyes. She herself, after changing her mind about a dozen times decided yet again to wear black. ‘I’ve got to change the colour of the clothes I wear’, she admitted having realised that nearly everything decent she had to wear was black.
Generally in work she wore suits, just a simple skirt or trousers and jacket and for the past year or so she had a fad on black. So tonight once again she was dressed in black trousers, ankle boots and a light, sleeveless blouse and matching black cardigan, not even the necklace she wore brightened it up. ‘Definitely,’ stating to her mirror image, ‘you’re going shopping next week.’
The evening was changing to a deep red sky highlighting the view in front of them - the little village with its traditional Provencal style of pale masonry, some houses still had the old traditional green shutters but the majority now with the more modern light blue. The small lavender fields surrounding it, the trees around them, colours were ever changing and with their urban upbringing the three appreciated what was taking place.
Neither knew what to expect, but all three knew they would enjoy the evening ahead, new faces at dinnertime, new talk and they hoped new smiles. When they reached the gate, the dogs came bounding out to greet them Keith got a fright clasping Lauren’s leg.
‘Don’t worry,’ reassuring him, ‘they’re friendly,’ considering the idea about getting a puppy for his birthday next August even Emma was nagging her to get some pets, although she wanted a hamster and a few rabbits, ‘A few!’ Lauren replied in shock, ‘sure it would be a few hundred within a month with the way rabbits breed!’ Emma was extremely miffed for a day by that remark.
Gabrielle made Jean-Pierre stand watch at the window calling to her as he opened the door then he called to the dogs, he could see Keith wouldn’t let Lauren’s leg go she was struggling to walk properly. Everybody except for David and Claude came out for the introductions noting their absence Gabrielle was shouting to them over the friendly greetings.
‘I suppose we better go to meet the new neighbour,’ Claude looked at David. They both mischievously grinned to each other, by the end of the night they would know if Maman was matchmaking or had genuinely found a new friend. It was a constant worry for her if and when Claude would get married and now David was free, it was double trouble for her. Although they doubted she was going to start searching for David yet but they knew she would start soon, at least hinting.
Reassuring his parents that Lauren was genuine, David made sure Jacques checked her background and finances before allowing her to rent the house and she didn’t know it was David’s house as all contracts were through the solicitor’s office. The estate agent was warned not to inform prospective clients who owned the house or who lived close by, he didn’t want any crazed fan living so close to his parents and he only wanted non-nationals to rent, it proved easier to hide his identity that way.
Legally she was obliged to produce proof that she could afford to pay the rent and Jacques actually sounded surprised when he told David of her financial history and investments. David knew his friend was lowering his guard and showing his chauvinistic side – as if a woman could be so successful! Asshole, Jacques was so certain his pretty wife was sitting at home waiting for him, David smirked now knowing better of that presumption, the gossips were only discreet in not allowing the spouse to know.
Arriving at the door as everybody entered Gabrielle introduced her two sons but showed her disapproval to them as she entered. We must be on our best behaviour, both brothers signed to each other as everybody passed by.
Once installed in the dining room Pastis de Marseille, Pineau des Charentes and whiskey were served for the adults with lemonade for Emma and Keith. Nearly every region in France has its own specialty drink, wine, champagne and brandy of course being one of the most famous, and Lauren loved Pineau from the Poitou-Charente region on the Southwest coast; the combination of wine must and brandy was soothing for a very nervous stomach. Jean-Pierre joked with her because she admitted her dislike for Pastis the local pride of Provence, but she was never a lover of either aniseed or liquorice. Noticing Veronique was drinking water Lauren wondered was the woman was still on her guard, she actually looked a little uncomfortable.
With some of the conversations discussed she got help from her children if she couldn’t understand and soon the company moved into the dining room. Then came the first of many courses to be served throughout the evening, Keith looked disappointingly at Lauren, ‘it not chips Mammy,’ whispering in English so no one would hear or understand.
Winking at him, ‘Later I promise,’ reassuringly taking his hand, secretly hoping Gabrielle would remember. As each course was brought out from the kitchen, it was explained to the visitors what food it contained and if it was a national or local dish. Every serving was small so as not to fill you before the next one arrived with each having a different wine to compliment the taste of the food. Lauren didn’t think she would eat everything but with the fifteen sometimes twenty minutes gap between each course and the flowing conversations she didn’t even need to open the top button of her trousers, a constant habit of hers when eating out.
There was a mixture of every culinary delight Lauren thought there would be – Crab Cakes with Pasilla Chili Aioli – which was a traditional mayonnaise type sauce with freshly crushed garlic. Aubergines, Courgettes and of course the most renowned dish of Marseille – Bouillabaisse, a fantastic combination of more than three types of fresh fish with onions, tomatoes, saffron, various herbs including laurel, sage and thyme. Soup, Lauren felt, was too simple a word for the wonderful taste tickling her tongue and senses.
Devouring everything that was happening around and appearing on the table Lauren thought how different it was to Ireland or rather to her own family. The long gaps between each course, the use of the various wines with each course, the enjoyment of the display as well as the taste, the cheers of delight each time a new course arrived from the kitchen. She and Peter often got a takeaway and the kids always ate with Debbie and Pat, Sunday dinner was at a restaurant or local hotel.
‘Okay so I can’t cook,’ embarrassingly admitting to herself then laughing as she recalled the memory of her phone call of desperation to Debbie after their first week in France, ‘what the hell do my children eat and how on earth do you cook it?’
The conversation was thriving but slow to make her feel at ease. Sometimes she got embarrassed if she pronounced her words wrong or didn’t know how to say something, but she got reassurance from everybody that it was okay; they understood and appreciated her attempts and the chi
ldren just giggled each time she got something wrong. Lauren did notice however that David was quiet joining in only when requested, it was as if he was in another world, she also noticed the others were trying their damnest to include him.
After dessert and champagne was served, the children decided they had enough of sitting at the table taking advantage of Jean-Pierre’s hint to them when he said he was going to lock up the yard animals for the night. Keith was delighted because he got chips with his main course and Emma felt the same when the ice cream gateau was served for dessert. Lauren wanted to have a cigarette with her coffee but opted for a mint when nobody else lit up. It’s time I tried to give up again, she decided even though she was going crazy for one. Noticing the time on the old hand-carved clock on the wall, it was 9.45pm she eased back into her chair taking in all the delights placed around the room, there were beautiful paintings and wooden carvings everywhere and although the room was of average size, it gave it a cramped but homely atmosphere. ‘Who was so gifted,’ she wondered. Was it a member of the family or just a hobby for collecting such beautiful items?
‘You like our furniture and paintings?’ David spoke to her in English.
Lauren jumped, staring at him in amazement, ‘You speak fluent English!’ she couldn’t believe he let her struggle all night, without even helping her when she or the kids were lost for French words. Claude guffawed and Lauren blushed once more.
‘Yes, but if you wish to learn French it is best you practice, do you not think so?’ David was now finding it amusing at how easily Lauren became embarrassed. Hoping he could judge her better when she spoke English to her children, he watched her on several occasions throughout the evening but a realisation of her wanting a true friendship with his parents and family was pretty obvious. There was something about her and he couldn’t quite grasp what it was. Loving a curiosity he decided he wanted to know more about this crazy Irish woman who just ups and leave her home, job and family for the South of France, normally people wait until they retire to do such a thing.
‘And I am practicing, your parents and the rest of your family have been very helpful and understanding of my difficulties,’ she responded sternly letting him know her feelings she gave him one of her classic dirty looks, in work she was renowned for them aiming them toward those few bitchy office girls, she had the technique to perfection. Turning to Veronique and Joel, she hoped to talk to them but they were too deep in their own conversation to notice her discomfort.
‘What was the spoilt brat hoping to gain by hiding that little secret?’ Lauren felt uneasy she could feel his eyes still staring at her and as Gabrielle came in from the kitchen sitting down beside her to have coffee Lauren felt a little relieved. Immediately jumping at the chance to start a conversation about the furniture and paintings in the room, she soon found out that the whole family was gifted. Gabrielle pointed around the room informing her with great pride who in the family created each piece. Claude joined in thoroughly enjoying correcting his mother if she put the wrong family member to an item.
They didn’t notice David was gone but Jean-Pierre immediately did when he arrived back with the children, looking at Gabrielle questionably as Emma and Keith both excitingly screamed to Lauren about the foal due to be born soon. Gabrielle just shrugged in response as mystified as Claude when they realised he was gone.
‘Jean-Pierre said we could see it being born, if you let us Mammy. Oh please can we, can we please?’ Emma couldn’t believe her luck, wait until I write to everybody back home and tell them this.
‘Please Mammy,’ Keith decided a flutter of the soft brown eyes was urgently required on this occasion.
Claude burst out laughing and everybody giggled, Lauren looked around to see what the joke was but didn’t notice anything new except that they were all staring at her, quickly turning to Gabrielle for guidance she noticed the children had suddenly fallen silent.
‘They call you Mammy?’ Gabrielle asked still chuckling, the familiar happy tears now forming in her eyes.
‘Yes, it’s an Irish expression what’s wrong with that? It’s another word for mother,’ Lauren got embarrassed again.
‘Do you know that in France ‘Mammie’ is the grandmother not the mother, don’t let them call you that in the streets you’ll get very strange looks from people.’
Lauren turned to her children; they both had their hands up to their mouths to hide their giggles, ‘We forgot!’ they chorused.
‘You forgot to tell me, you mean,’ realisation now dawning on her, so that’s why they called her Maman outside their home and she felt so proud thinking they were adapting to the French way of addressing their parents.
Once everybody got over the laugher it was agreed that if the children were not in school and it was a reasonable hour that they could watch the birth when the time came. But only on the condition Lauren could be there too, admitting to all that she never experienced the pleasure herself, ‘its city life,’ she informed them, ‘you only get to see these things on the television.’ Wondering what her children’s reaction would be she softly smiled, ‘Christ am I going to get a lot of curious questions then.’
So the night ended as it started with kisses and handshakes, Keith was a bit awkward when everybody kissed him. ‘Only aunties an’ uncles an’ nannies an’ granddads do that in Ireland, so why does everybody do it here?’ he asked Lauren later as walked back to their house exaggerating the everybody bit.
Smiling and dreamily thinking how that tradition couldn’t be more welcoming, ‘It’s their way of saying hello and goodbye,’ looking down to her young son she added, ‘just accept it as part of your new life here. These people haven’t turned their backs on expressing themselves with actions. Its tradition and wonderful, don’t you think?’
But Keith didn’t reply and was silent for the rest of the short walk home. As she tucked him into bed a little while later he hugged her, ‘Mammy,’ he grinned pointing his small finger at her and winking, ‘you really say big words sometimes and,’ he prolonged the word as he thought of a big word to impress her, ‘very long sen…ten…ces but I’m sure I know what you’re trying to tell me.’
As Lauren prepared for bed, reliving the evening she couldn’t wipe the grin from her face, helped on of course by the Pineau and varying wines, how well behaved her children were she was so proud of them. ‘I better remember to phone Debbie tomorrow to tell her and to say a big and very grateful thank you,’ Lauren would never forget that a large part of her children’s upbringing was down to Debbie and Pat.
As for the Corvasieur family Lauren was delighted to know they hadn’t turned their backs on their family roots, she could see and feel a strong bond between them all and their loyalty to each other was prominent. Regretfully wishing it existed within her own family and with her own brothers and parents.
Although they all looked the same, with their strong dark hair and brown eyes, each son was very different in personality.
Joel was like Jean-Pierre, a farm worker who took pride in his work and traditions of the family, surprisingly he let Veronique work but Lauren felt that financial circumstances may play a part because of the increasing uncertainty of farming life throughout Europe. He was definitely the eldest, his weather-beaten skin making him look older than his forty odd years. Wondering why they never had children you could see the love he had for Veronique as throughout the night and between each course they held each other’s hand. Watching her every move and showing genuine interest when she spoke, he was definitely not a chauvinist in that sense.
Claude was the modern member of the family, university educated, single and working in the big city of Marseille. Up-to-date, excitable and charming, he bounced as he spoke and definitely the owner of the sports car sitting in his parent’s driveway, it looked so out of place in among the tractor and farm machinery, she thought. But Lauren could see he didn’t consider it an obligation to return home every weekend; he thoroughly enjoyed the company of his parents and family,
perhaps it was his little retreat from the fast-lane. When Lauren found out he was a computer engineer she dived in asking him about a problem she was having setting up her broadband and a web site she was trying to develop, but the language barrier came into play so he agreed to call up some day during the week to help her. Lauren let out a sigh of relief explaining to the family that at least she wouldn’t have to struggle over the phone with some French technician or even some techie guy in India or somewhere like that.
Then there was David. She couldn’t work out if he was younger or older than Claude trying to remember if Gabrielle had told her during their many chats. David is definitely an enigma. He didn’t want to be there she felt, soon making that pretty obvious by his disappearance, he wasn’t as boastful or vain as she expected but then again it was hard to read him because of his sultry mood. Throughout the evening he was polite and a bit authoritarian on any subject that was discussed, that is when he was pressurized into being involved in the many conversations. Then there were the occasions when he was in another world, laid-back and letting it all pass before him. Polite, elegant and yet when she discovered his little secret on speaking English she felt he was belittling her and being inhospitable.
Definitely the most handsome of the three brothers, even though he looked like he’d been dragged through a bush backwards, she could see why he was popular with women. ‘Definitely come to bed eyes and that smile when he did smile, oh Lord it was so seductive’ – it made his chiselled features glow like the Mediterranean evening sky and his tan set off his perfect white teeth. ‘Typical movie hunk stuff,’ she giggled wondering what was going through his head now; did he regret his adultery? A lover you could never trust as far as you could throw him, she concluded.
Not that she would have the strength to throw any of them; they were all so bloomin’ tall and well built. Gabrielle was the only member of the family who was the same height as her. Even Veronique was close on hitting the six feet figure and Lauren, at 5½ feet felt a little inhibited when they all stood around her. But she soon forgot and relaxed, with thanks to the Pineau and of course when they sat at the table.
