19
‘Er. Would seven-ish suit?’ I suggested to Julia.
‘Sounds great. Thank you.’
When she’d gone, I stared around the kitchen in panic. What if Rupert didn’t come back in time?
At five o’clock, Chris from the Australian group came over to tell me the power was back on – and that was the final straw. I had no idea whether the house would blow up if I left the generator on now the mains power was back. I couldn’t run a barbeque for thirty-plus people on my own.
I stared at my phone. I couldn’t call Alain. And I didn’t want to call Ryan again, not so soon after he’d come to my rescue at Jonathan’s. I scanned my limited list of contacts, trying to work out who might be barbeque-minded. Sophie? Hardly, living in a flat. Ellie? She’d already done me favours, and besides, I didn’t have her down as a catering type of gal. More a wine-and-takeaway-pizza woman.
‘Er. Bob? This is Emmy.’
‘Hi, Emmy. Everything all right?’
‘Not really.’ My voice wobbled. ‘Are you free? For a favour?’
‘When? This evening?’
‘Now. And this evening. I mean, this evening from now?’
‘I can be if I need to be. What’s up?’
I gave him a limited version – that Rupert was ‘missing’, Alain was ‘unavailable’ and I was clueless. The generator. The barbeque.
‘Rupert’s missing?’
Since I couldn’t tell him what Gloria had said, I simply said there had been quite a scene, and Rupert had taken it hard.
‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
I got drinks organised and salad stuff out of the fridge, and when Bob roared up on his motorbike, I babbled apologies. ‘You are such a star, and I’m so sorry. I know you must think I’m hopeless, but...’
‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll sort out the generator, then I’ll take a look at the barbeques while you carry on in here.’ He studied me for a moment. ‘You don’t look too good, Emmy.’
‘It’s been a mad day. I’m just tired.’
He smiled sympathetically. ‘I’m not stupid. Something’s going on here – more than you can tell me, and that’s fine. But I’m here now and we can do this. Okay?’
‘Okay. Thanks.’
And off he went around the back of the house. Ten minutes later, he was rattling around on the patio. Thank goodness Rupert and Alain had sorted out the barbeques the night before.
By seven, Rupert had a phone filled with approximately twenty missed calls from me, if he bothered to look, while I had a kitchen table groaning with drinks, salad and bread, and Bob and I, though an unlikely looking pair, were stationed side by side at the barbeques. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but he was patient and kind, for which I was grateful, and we kept up a continuous run of marinated pork steaks and chicken breasts and plain sausages and spicy merguez sausages and sardines and kebabs and veggie stuff.
Julia was somewhat confused when I introduced Bob to her. ‘Oh. Is Mr Hunter not back yet?’
‘No. He... One of our friends isn’t well, so he called in there on the way back and got held up.’ I crossed my fingers over the pair of tongs I was holding.
‘Oh. I’m so sorry. Well, thank you, Bob. Appreciated.’ And off she went to circulate.
‘Have we got a sick friend that I don’t know about?’ Bob asked, his lips twitching.
‘Ha. Well. Jonathan has a cough, doesn’t he? And asthma. Which clearly requires round-the-clock care.’
As we could only cook so much at a time, naturally we had a constant stream of customers, so it was a good hour before there was any kind of lull.
Bob turned to me. ‘Okay?’
‘No. I’m hot and tired and I stink of charcoal. And I may never eat meat again.’
‘Is... Is Rupert okay?’
‘I don’t know, Bob. I can’t get hold of him. And I don’t know at what point he counts as a missing person.’
‘He probably just needs time to himself, Emmy. It’s been pretty crap for him lately.’
‘I know. And I’m so grateful to you for stepping in at the last minute like this.’
‘No problem. You’re lucky it wasn’t tomorrow night, or I’d have been away at a mate’s for the night.’
I smiled. ‘Lucky, indeed.’
We were beginning to dismantle the grills when Rupert appeared on the patio.
I swallowed back tears of relief, conscious that the party was still going strong around us.
‘Emmy. I’m sorry. And Bob. I wouldn’t know how to begin to thank you.’
‘No need, Rupert.’ They shook hands.
Rupert went through the patio doors into the kitchen.
‘Go after him,’ Bob instructed me. ‘I’ll do this.’
In the kitchen, Rupert and I stared at each other for a long moment and then he came over to wrap his arms around me in a tight bear hug. We both cried a little. Thank goodness no guests made an appearance.
He pulled away, gave me an embarrassed nod and turned back to the patio doors. And like the consummate professional he was, he squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and strode out to introduce himself to his new arrivals and charm Julia and her parents, while I wished I had half his backbone.
Later, as I got ready for bed, exhausted and still stinking of charcoal despite a long shower, I found another text from Alain: Emmy, for God’s sake. Ring me. Please.
And a voicemail. ‘Emmy, I appreciate that you’re angry and confused, but I need to talk to you. I know you were due to be really busy today, and I’m hoping that’s why you haven’t called me back. Please call me tomorrow, as soon as you can.’
I collapsed in bed, exhausted and miserable. If I could just get a good night’s sleep...
But it was not to be. It turned out that the group in the tent, rather than being jazz fans, loved folk music... and played it, too. Guitars – with a tambourine for good measure. And they sang along. Enthusiastically. Until midnight. And their tent was situated not too far – certainly not far enough – from my room at the back of the house. I hated folk music.
Gloria also hated folk music. I could hear her whining in Rupert’s bedroom. When the music stopped, she stopped. It would have been comical if I hadn’t had to sleep with my pillow jammed over my head.
* * *
Breakfast for thirty-four people. For the next five days. What on earth had possessed me to make an offer like that? At least we were lucky with the weather, as the only way to cater for everyone was to pile the kitchen table high with food, and those who couldn’t grab a chair in the kitchen had to go out to the patio, which, with the sun pleasantly warm and the garden so beautiful, nobody objected to.
‘I have never chopped so much fruit in my life,’ Rupert grumbled. ‘My fingers will be down to stubs.’
‘And I’d rather not be serenaded under my window by an amateur folk group half the night, but that’s life.’
Bathroom confusion still reigned – at least in Donald’s mind. He wandered down in his robe, thinking it was his bathroom that was out of order and asking to use mine.
‘So sorry, Emmy,’ Patricia muttered stoically as she caught up with him and pushed him back out into the hall. ‘He’s worse when he’s not in his own environment, I’m afraid.’
When breakfast was out of the way, we breathed a sigh of relief... but not for long. Today was also the first day of our three promised buffet lunches.
‘Let’s at least have coffee in the garden,’ Rupert said wearily.
He made stiff espressos, and we sat with the dog splayed out at our feet. ‘Emmy, I’m sorry I let you down yesterday. It was unforgivable.’
‘Rupert...’
But he held up a hand to stop me. ‘It was, and that’s that. You must have had a crap day. And yet, I have a favour to ask you. I’d like to request that you not tell anyone about yesterday’s revelation, for my sake. It’s hard enough coming to terms with Gloria’s pronouncements, but I don’t want people knowing
she slept with every man who crossed my doorstep ever since we bloody well got here. I’m sure people had their suspicions anyway, but I don’t want their pity, and I don’t want to be made to look more of a fool than I am already.’
‘I won’t tell anyone here, I promise. That suits me, too.’
He grunted. ‘I’m sure. As far as I’m concerned, all anyone needs to know is that Gloria’s gone and we will be getting a divorce. And if I come across as pissed off and grumpy for a while, everyone will understand.’ He jabbed a finger at me. ‘You, on the other hand, might need to up the ante with regard to those woeful acting abilities of yours.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Think about it. People will expect you to be over the moon that Gloria’s left and your job is secure. If you walk around with a face like a long weekend, they’ll want to know why. This is a small community, you know it is. It won’t take much to set tongues wagging.’ His tone softened. ‘I know it was as much of a shock to you as to me, Emmy. In some ways, I think it’s harder on you.’
‘I doubt it. Alain and I had only been seeing each other for a short while, Rupert. And this was something that happened before I knew him. It’s not the same at all.’
‘Well, I’m not trying to make it a competition about who’s the most hard done by, but after Nathan...’ He stopped, looking long and hard at me. ‘You said “had”.’
‘What?’
‘You said “had”. That you and Alain had been seeing each other. Does that mean you... You won’t be, now?’
My lip quivered. ‘I don’t know.’
He looked at his feet. ‘How serious were you getting with him?’
My throat clogged with tears. ‘Pretty serious.’
He scrubbed a hand across his face. ‘Then I’m sorry for what’s happened and for what you must be going through. Are you... ?’ He looked at me in a panic. ‘You will stay, won’t you? Here at the guesthouse?’
I tried hard to swallow, staring down the garden at the willows swaying in the light breeze. ‘I hadn’t thought about it yet. I imagine I will.’
Draining my coffee, I went back to my room to check my phone again. Another voicemail from Alain.
‘Okay, Emmy, you’re obviously not going to phone me any time soon, but I need you to know that Gloria twisted everything yesterday. The time she was referring to... I was drunk, and I honestly don’t know if I slept with her or not. I really need to speak to you. I thought what we had was special. That you thought the same. If you do, then surely you could give me a chance to explain?’
I played it again. He didn’t even know if he’d slept with her? How drunk was he?
And how the hell was I supposed to respond to a message like that?
I had to speak to someone. I texted Kate to ask when she could be free.
She phoned me straight back. ‘I took a coffee break. I have twenty minutes. What’s up?’
I poured out my tale of woe in as concise a manner as I could.
‘Oh, Emmy, that’s awful. I don’t know what to say. Will you sort things out with Alain?’
‘Dunno.’
‘He has tried to reach out to you. All those messages. He says he might not have even slept with her?’
I grunted. ‘He looked pretty guilty when she announced it.’
‘Are you sure you’re not mixing guilt with discomfort? Besides, if he doesn’t know what really happened, he would look guilty, wouldn’t he?’
‘Why are you trying to defend him?’
‘Because my gut instinct tells me he’s the right one for you.’
‘You haven’t even met him!’
‘No. But I’ve heard the way you speak about him. I’ve seen the way you look when you speak about him. I don’t want this to come between you if it doesn’t have to. I think you should at least listen to what he has to say.’
‘Do I have to?’
‘No, you don’t. Not if you’re happy to walk away from him. Are you really willing to call it a day so soon, Emmy? Without even listening to his side of the story?’ When I didn’t say anything, she simply said, ‘I’m sorry. I have to get back to work. Let me know what happens, will you?’
‘Wait – what about you and Jamie?’
She just sighed.
‘Oh, Kate. I miss you.’
‘Miss you, too.’
I sat for a long moment. Should I trust my gut instinct, which had been kicked around from here till Sunday? Or should I trust my oldest and best friend, all those miles away?
Before I could stop myself, I’d sent Alain a text: I’ll be at your office at eleven thirty.
Kate was right. We needed to talk. If nothing else, I couldn’t go on seething and wondering like this. It was making me ill.
I went to tell Rupert that I needed a little time out. I figured he could hardly refuse after his period of time out the day before, and I was right. He assured me that he could cope with lunch for the masses, and I took him at his word.
As I drove into town, I remembered with a jolt that I was supposed to be meeting Sophie and Ellie for drinks after they finished work that evening. Unable to face the thought, I pulled over and texted that we were far too busy at La Cour des Roses, and apologies, but I would have to cancel.
Parking at the top end of town so there was no chance of Sophie or Ellie seeing me from their places of business, I made my way to Alain’s office, sick with nerves. I had no idea what we were going to say to each other, but we’d shared enough together that I owed him the opportunity.
I climbed the steps, knocked and peered around the door. He was just finishing a phone call. He gestured for me to enter, and I paced until he finished. He switched on the answer phone, looked up at me, then came around the desk to take me into his arms – but I put my hands up in front of me, and he had to back off.
His expression was one of misery and disappointment, but his hands fell to his sides in acceptance. ‘Emmy. Thank you for coming. Can I get you anything?’
I looked around his office at the neat desk, the filing cabinets, the shelves. The window with its view over the top end of town.
You could turn back the clock and get me a rerun of the past week, if you like. Maybe strike Gloria dumb while you’re at it.
‘Water would be good.’ My mouth was dry.
He passed me a bottle from the mini fridge, then caught my gaze before I could transfer it to my feet, and held it.
‘Emmy, I know what Gloria said yesterday was horrible for you. But I believe that if you knew what did happen, it would make a difference. Could you... Will you let me explain?’
Trepidation twisted in my stomach, but Kate was adamant that I owed him this – and it was why I came, after all. I gave him an almost imperceptible nod.
He brought his chair round the desk to face the visitor chair and indicated that I should sit, then he sat too, leaning forwards, his hands clenched between his knees. I could see the strain in every muscle of his face. A pulse beat at his temple.
‘When Sabine left, I’d been here a year. Rupert had arrived around the same time as me, and he was my first-ever client. He was also my first friend here. Gloria was flirty, but I got the impression she behaved that way with any half-acceptable bloke she came across.’
That I didn’t doubt.
‘I didn’t attach much importance to it, and it didn’t matter because I rarely saw her on her own. When Sabine and I were invited round for drinks, dinner – whatever – it was a couples thing. I saw Rupert more. There was a lot to discuss and deal with as he renovated the house and set up the business. And then Sabine left me.’ He gave me a direct look. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how traumatic it is for your other half to run off with someone. But you can imagine, with it being my brother...’
‘Yes. I can imagine.’ Alain had always given the impression it was something he’d put behind him, but as he sat across from me now, a slight tremor in his hand, I began to understand the depth of feeling he kept hidden. His wife hadn
’t left him for just anyone – she’d run off to England with his sibling and had children with him, and for the sake of his parents, Alain still had to be civil with them. He would never quite be free of his broken marriage.
‘Rupert was the first person I thought to ring,’ he went on. ‘I was distraught – and I could hardly phone my parents! He dropped everything and came over. I’d had a couple of stiff drinks and he was worried about my mental state, so he drove me back to La Cour des Roses where he could keep an eye on me, and he and Gloria could do their best to cheer me up. That involved more drinks, and I was happy to imbibe. I was past caring, and I was only grateful that I hadn’t been left alone to wallow. Unfortunately, I got far drunker than I had been in a long while, and I pretty much passed out on the sofa in the guest lounge.’
I almost smiled. ‘You must have been drunk. That thing’s seriously uncomfortable.’
‘Yes, it is. I remember Rupert covering with me a blanket and telling me to get some sleep. That he’d drive me home in the morning. Later – I don’t know what time it was, but I do know I was still drunk – I woke to find Gloria hovering over me. In my haze, I assumed she’d come to check that I was all right.’
‘But that wasn’t what she had in mind?’ I asked him, tight-lipped, forcing the words through.
‘No.’
‘It... It didn’t occur to you to try to stop her?’
‘Yes. No. For God’s sake, Emmy, I was blind drunk and half asleep!’ He sighed. ‘And that’s where the problem lies. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know if I had sex with the wretched woman or not. I remember her being there. I remember her unbuttoning my shirt.’
‘That would explain how she knew about the birthmark,’ I murmured, almost to myself.
‘I remember thinking it wasn’t a good idea. I remember thinking I didn’t even like the woman. I remember her perfume – it was overpowering. I... I think I might have passed out again.’ He let out a long breath. ‘And that’s it.’
‘That’s all you remember?’
‘Yes.’ His voice toughened up. ‘The next day, I tried to work it out, but it was – and still is – a blur.’
Return to the Little French Guesthouse Page 25
