‘I don’t want any,’ I whimpered. ‘I feel sick.’
‘I’m not surprised. You’re a very silly woman, keeping all that inside. It’s not good for you. I’ll put sugar in yours.’
Sophie hugged me close, her head against mine, until Ellie came back with the tea.
I clutched my mug and took a sip. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be,’ Sophie said. ‘What do you think we brought you here for?’
‘Not interested in apologies,’ Ellie added. ‘Explanations would be good, though.’
‘I can’t. It’s awkward and confidential…’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Ellie said. ‘Who would we tell? I limit my social circle to people I can stand – not very many – and Sophie here is too sweet to even dream of it.’
‘Remember that day you came into my salon with your awful, overgrown hair?’ Sophie asked me. ‘You told me all sorts of things then. This can’t be any worse.’
‘But it is!’ I whispered.
Even so, I told them. The part of me that said I was being disloyal – to Alain, to Rupert – was past caring and into survival mode. Ellie was right. Better out than in.
When I’d finished, Sophie said, ‘You’re right. It is worse.’ She looked across at Ellie. ‘Don’t you think… Ellie? Are you all right?’
We both stared at her in concern. Always pale-complexioned, she looked ghostly white, her lips pinched.
‘Crap.’ She dropped her head in her hands.
‘What?’ Sophie asked her, alarmed.
Ellie slowly lifted her head, her hands still glued to her cheeks. ‘Oh, Emmy. I wish you’d told me sooner.’ She lowered her hands and puffed out a long breath. Took a gulp of tea.
‘Why should I have told you sooner?’ I demanded.
‘Because I might have saved you some heartache, and I could have spared Alain a few years’ worth. I had no idea he thought… I can’t believe Gloria! That she would say that! Emmy, Alain never slept with Gloria. It never happened.’
I stared at her. ‘How do you know?’
‘Because Gloria told me.’
A tidal wave of relief washed over me. ‘She told you?’
‘Remember she wanted to be friends with me when she first arrived? She wanted – needed – a close girlfriend, a confidante. She suggested she was dissatisfied with her marriage, with life at La Cour des Roses and…’ Ellie shook her head. ‘Perhaps she was looking for validation, I don’t know, but it manifested itself in flirtation. Possibly seduction. She started to tell me who she’d flirted with. Who she planned on seducing. I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that kind of information, even though I didn’t believe half of what she said. But she knew I was… independent with regard to relationships. Maybe she thought I would approve. Well, I may be independent, but I’m not free and easy. It all became so uncomfortable. I tried to steer her away from it, but she never took the hint. I hoped it was a phase, that she’d settle in. I liked and respected Rupert, and it didn’t sit well with me. Though I assumed a lot of it was bluff – that she flirted a lot, but then embellished for effect. Anyway, the final straw was when she told me about Alain.’
‘Tell me.’
‘It was pretty much as you said. His wife left him, Rupert drove him to La Cour des Roses, he passed out drunk. She waited till Rupert was asleep, then went through to him. Woke him up. Tried to seduce him.’
‘Tried?’
‘Tried. Didn’t succeed, Emmy. He turned her down flat. Wouldn’t have anything to do with it. I remember her saying, “Honestly, Ellie. Men! They’re offered it on a plate and they still don’t want it! Still, he was so drunk, I doubt he’d have been up to it, if you know what I mean.” She was so brazen about it! She didn’t seem to see anything morally questionable in taking advantage of someone who was drunk and hurting. It made me sick to my stomach. I told her then and there that I didn’t want to listen to her sordid stories any more. That we wouldn’t be meeting for coffee or lunch. That I would be civil with her in company, but I no longer wanted her company.’
‘That can’t have been easy for you,’ Sophie said softly.
Ellie curled a lip. ‘She’d pushed me too far. I can’t be doing with playing games. Better to do it quickly and get it over with.’
‘You didn’t think to tell anyone?’ I asked her.
Ellie scraped bright pink fingernails through her short hair. ‘I had no intention of telling Rupert what she’d told me. I didn’t know him that well, in those days, and I didn’t want to interfere in their marriage. Besides, I had no idea whether what she told me was true half the time – except for the thing with Alain. I doubted she’d make up an actual defeat on her part.’
‘And Alain?’ I asked. ‘You didn’t think to speak to him?’
‘He was my accountant, Emmy. It was a professional relationship. I didn’t think he’d appreciate me saying, “By the way, I gather you embarrassed yourself by getting legless but managed to turn Gloria down flat. Well done, you.”’
‘But he didn’t know he turned her down!’
‘And I didn’t know he didn’t know that!’ she pointed out, clearly distressed. ‘I had no idea he’d been worried about it all these years! Gloria didn’t tell me all that stuff that Alain told you – about trying to persuade him the next day that it had happened, that he owed her further favours. We’re not close friends. How could I have known?’
‘All this hurt.’ Sophie said. ‘All this hurt because of one woman. It is very sad.’
‘I wish I could have fixed things,’ Ellie murmured. ‘If I’d known, I would have.’
‘At least I can tell Alain now,’ I said with relief. ‘Put his mind at rest. Is that okay?’
‘Of course!’ She straightened in her chair. ‘And there’s something I can do. I can tell Rupert. If I’d known about all those things she said to him when she left… I need to put him straight. Perhaps I should have done it a long time ago.’
I laid a hand on her arm. ‘You don’t need to do that, Ellie. I can tell him.’
‘No. You already tried to tell Rupert what Alain told you, and he wouldn’t listen. He would only think you’re making excuses for your boyfriend.’
‘Then I’ll come with you.’
‘I don’t like to think someone could be so horrible to someone they once loved,’ Sophie said as we dropped her at home.
‘That’s why love is best avoided,’ Ellie pointed out. ‘Too much pain. Too much potential for disaster.’
We drove on to La Cour des Roses. I got Ellie a glass of water and that’s when I spied it, standing between a pot of paprika and a jar of homemade apple jelly: the ballerina figurine. It was balanced on one leg, the other looped up over her head. I walked over and plucked it off the shelf. I stared at the insipid, nauseating thing, then threw it in the bin. Good riddance.
When we knocked on Rupert’s lounge door, he had just poured himself a shot of whiskey. Good. He was going to need it.
Slightly puzzled at Ellie’s appearance, he filled us in on Bob’s update on Jonathan’s condition while we sat down, then looked at her quizzically.
‘Rupert. I need to talk to you and I need you to listen,’ Ellie said sternly, although her hands were shaking slightly.
‘Er. Okay…’
Sensing something of import was happening, the dog came over from her favourite spot by the window to rest her head on his knees. I stared out at the dark shapes of the trees, swaying a little in the breeze, as Ellie told him her tale. His accusatory glare at me when he realised I’d confided in Sophie and Ellie turned slowly to resignation, then shock at Ellie’s story, and finally anger.
Ellie had expected it. Braced herself for it, her knuckles white, gripping the chair arms.
‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me, Ellie?’
‘Tell you what? I thought most of what Gloria told me was probably bollocks! I didn’t want to interfere! I didn’t think you’d thank me if I did. I didn’t know you well enough.’ Her ey
es were rimmed red from holding back the tears. ‘But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.’ She stood to go, and without saying another word, she kissed us both and was on her way.
‘Are you okay?’ I tried carefully.
‘What do you think?’ Rupert growled at me.
‘I would have thought you’d be… relieved.’
He barked out a laugh. ‘Relieved? Relieved that my wife flirted with numerous men from the minute I bought this place? That she probably slept with a fair few of them? That she boasted about it to one of my friends?’
‘Of course not! Relieved that she didn’t sleep with one of your friends.’
‘Not through lack of trying!’
‘But she didn’t succeed, did she?’
‘Then why didn’t Alain say?’
‘Because he didn’t know! That was what I tried to tell you yesterday, but you wouldn’t listen! You heard Ellie. He was completely out of it. You must remember that night, Rupert, surely?’
‘Yes. Doesn’t change anything.’
‘Why not? Gloria told Ellie he turned her down flat. Even in the state he was in. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?’
‘He should have told me. He could have saved me years of infidelity and heartache!’
‘He didn’t want to jeopardise your marriage, did he? Hindsight’s a wonderful thing, Rupert. Think about that. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d better go tell him. Maybe he’ll appreciate the information more than you.’
I slammed out of the house and drove to Alain’s in a turmoil of relief and upset and anger. As I pulled up at the kerb, I glanced at the clock. Ten thirty. Somehow, I didn’t think Alain would mind.
He opened the door, wide-eyed. ‘Emmy! Is everything all right? Jonathan, is he…?’
I laid a hand on his arm. ‘It’s not about Jonathan. Can I… Can I come in?’
I went through to the lounge. It felt like we should be curled up on the sofa together. Instead, he sat on the edge of the chair opposite.
‘What’s up?’
Without any preliminaries, I told him what Ellie had told me.
He listened intently and when I’d finished, he dropped his head into his hands while he absorbed it. When he finally looked up again, his eyes were moist.
‘I can’t tell you how good that is to know. To have an answer after all this time.’ He managed a small smile. ‘Not sure I’ll be able to look Ellie in the eye for a while, though.’
‘She doesn’t think badly of you, Alain. She thinks Gloria acted disgracefully. That’s why she fell out with her. She only wishes she’d known you hadn’t remembered what happened. She could have put you out of your misery a long time ago.’
‘Does Rupert know?’
‘Yes. She told him.’
‘And?’
‘I think he’s glad that nothing happened. But he’s still hurt. He thinks you should have told him. He’s upset that you kept it secret all this time.’
‘But…’
I held up a hand. ‘We both know the reasons. But he’s hurting and he can’t see it right now. I… I’ve done my best.’
‘Thank you.’ He gave me a questioning look. ‘You must be glad, at least.’
‘Glad?’
‘That Gloria didn’t get her wicked way with another boyfriend.’
‘I suppose.’
‘You suppose?’
‘Alain… What Ellie told me doesn’t change how I feel about this.’ His face fell, and I hastened to explain. ‘I can’t deny it’s a happy bonus, knowing you stood firm despite the state you were in. But I already understood what happened that night.’
‘Then… Then why aren’t we together?’
I let out a long sigh. ‘Because this situation is bigger than you and me. I have Rupert to consider.’
He nodded. Gave me a brief smile. ‘Thank you for telling me, Emmy. You have no idea how much it means to me.’
I smiled warmly. ‘Yes, I do.’
I stood and he saw me to the door, laying a hand briefly on my cheek before I turned and left.
* * *
The next morning, Rupert studiously avoided catching my eye, slamming around the kitchen like a man possessed.
‘Stop that!’ I snapped. ‘There are guests upstairs. They’ll think the house is falling in.’
‘Hmmph.’ He moderated the slamming to clattering.
As soon as I could get away from him after breakfast was done, I went to hide in my room to phone Kate with yet another update, then continued to hide there, catching up with e-mails. There were several enquiries for bookings next year, and by the end of the morning, I’d transformed two of those into definites. Not bad for a morning’s work. It seemed this sudden flurry was down to the Thomson clan, who had been busily posting photos of their accommodation and the gardens all over social media, even pictures of the breakfast and lunch tables, and saying how gorgeous the region was.
Risking Rupert’s wrath, I knocked on his lounge door.
‘I told you posting photos of food would work!’ I announced as I waltzed in, before telling him the harvest we were reaping. ‘Just think! Ten different groups of Thomsons here, all with their own individual groups of friends and acquaintances on social media seeing what we offer.’
He grunted. ‘I hate social media.’
‘Do you hate the results?’
‘S’pose not.’
‘Then cheer up!’ I decided to take a chance. I wasn’t convinced he was in the most receptive of moods, but Julia would only be here for two more days. ‘Did you know that Julia Cooper runs a company that organises residential leisure courses?’
‘No. So?’
‘So. Maybe we could consider running activity weeks to help fill the early or late season. They’re popular, and they can pay very well. Painting, writing, photography. Get an expert in, then let out the rooms to people who want to take part – but it would have to be fully catered. Lessons in the mornings, afternoons free to explore, then dinner with the resident expert.’
‘And where would I find an expert I could afford?’
‘Start with Bob and photography. You wouldn’t even have to put him up here.’ I turned my laptop towards him. ‘Here’s an example of a writing retreat. This is what they charge per head…’
‘Bloody hell!’ His jaw dropped. ‘Really? Hmm. Maybe…’
* * *
The marquee arrived as expected not long after lunch, the van driver and his mate unloading long packages of poles, fat parcels of folded canvas and sacks of pegs, and piling them at the far end of the courtyard, next to the hedge.
By the time they’d finished that, sweat was rolling off them. Imagining they would have a long haul erecting it, I took pity on them and fetched iced drinks, for which they were grateful… and after which they waved, went back to the van, climbed in and turned on the engine.
‘Wait!’ I yelled, turning to Rupert. ‘Where the hell are they going? Why haven’t they set it up? When are they coming back?’
‘They’re not.’ Rupert scrubbed a hand across his face. ‘We have to do it ourselves.’
‘What? But…’
‘I ordered it last minute. The company had nobody to spare. It’s a busy time of year with parties and weddings. There’s a video on their website showing how to put this model up. I suggest we have some tea in the den and we watch it.’
We did. Our faces fell.
‘We’ll never do it before they get back from the jazz,’ I pointed out. ‘And it needs to be up by then, or nobody will be able to park. On the other hand…’ I jabbed at my phone and thrust it under Rupert’s nose. ‘It’s not forecast to rain tomorrow. We don’t need a marquee.’
‘A marquee was requested by the clients. It was included in the price we are charging them. It’s here now, and it may as well go up.’
I huffed. ‘Well, we’re not going to manage it alone, that’s for sure. We need muscles. Phone Ryan. Phone Bob.’ I almost said ‘Phone Alain’, but stopped myself.
Ru
pert gave me a look. He knew. ‘Four of us should do it.’
* * *
Hours later, the four of us were sweating so hard, we were wringing wet. The marquee was bigger than we thought. The courtyard was strewn with poles and canvas lengths. The dog weaved her way in and out of this exciting new obstacle course, getting in everyone’s way. Rupert’s laptop was balanced in the shade so we could watch instructions, then pause it while we tried to carry them out.
First, every last item had to be laid out exactly in position on the ground. Then, every pole had to go into the correct joining pole. Some of the joins were slightly bent, and Bob resorted to a mallet – sparingly, since we would be liable for any damage. Mainly, we had to rely on brute force – Ryan – but he was getting tired. My shoulders and arms screamed in pain from holding semi-constructed bits in position above my head while other semi-constructed bits were added to it.
Bob and Ryan, the two most laid-back people I had ever met, spent the entire time swearing like troopers, yelling in pain when they caught skin in the pole joints or banged thumbs with the mallet, and muttering colourful expletives at the dog.
And yet neither of them gave up until the job was done. It was a testament to how much they valued Rupert as a friend. You certainly wouldn’t do it otherwise.
When it was stable and looking impressive with the tall hedge as a backdrop, we all collapsed in a stinky, sweat-ridden heap on a shady spot of the lawn, the dog flopping contentedly across us, and downed a couple of bottles of cool beer each before we found the energy to speak.
Bob broke the exhausted silence. ‘Never again, Rupert.’
Rupert grunted.
‘Shit!’ Ryan suddenly sat up straight. ‘Do we have to take it down, too?’
For some reason, we all found this hysterical, rolling around in the grass until our sides ached, bellows of laughter echoing through the garden and tears streaming down our faces.
Oh, this was what I loved about La Cour des Roses and the people who frequented it. Friendships where nothing was too much trouble. Crises that could be lessened by unity. Cool beer and loud laughter. Life could be a lot worse.
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