The French Adventure

by Lucy Coleman

  The silence is heavy and I swallow the lump that has risen in my throat, then quickly change the subject.

  ‘Are you still happy for Lizzie and Daniel to be the first guests in the gîte? Sam says it’ll take about three weeks to get everything finished.’

  Mum and Dad seem relieved that the awkward moment has passed.

  ‘Of course, they’d be welcome to come and stay to try it out. They can give us feedback before the paying guests arrive. Seems we need to be thinking about sorting the furniture very quickly, Viv. And maybe we should start contacting the people on our waiting list, now we have a completion date. It will be good to get firm bookings in the diary, at last.’

  ‘Thanks, guys. It will be nice to have some time with Lizzie, although I think she’ll be keen to show Daniel everything that’s within a day’s drive. What date is the first Saturday in July?’

  Mum goes to fetch the bookings diary and I make a mental note to set her up with an online version. She leafs through the pages.

  ‘It’s the first. I’m so glad you’re here to help Sam, as he would have hated heading off to Cannes if it wasn’t all finished.’

  ‘When’s he due to leave?’

  ‘I have it marked down as Monday the tenth of July. You should take a week off, too. It will be a nice break before he gets back and work starts on the second gîte.’ Mum looks at me, pointedly.

  ‘Maybe. I’ll think about it.’

  Mum and Dad exchange glances and I pretend not to notice.

  *

  Tonight, the first job on my action list is an email that’s extremely hard to write. I sit in front of the blank screen for quite a while before my fingers finally begin to move around the keyboard.

  Hi Karl

  I’ve had a lot of time to think about what happened between us and my reaction now makes a little more sense to me. This isn’t about how you feel, but about me not facing up to how I feel.

  That’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth.

  Maybe when I return in six months’ time our paths will cross again, who knows? But I don’t want you to put your life on hold for me, because as it stands we are over. I’ve let you go and now you need to accept that fact.

  You can’t make someone love you, just because you think you are in love with them. That’s a lesson I learnt a long time ago.

  What I’m asking is that you respect my honesty and privacy. It’s time you began to move on with your own life, as it’s way too short to waste it trying to fix something that’s broken beyond repair. You once said to me that success was all about knowing when to give up on a bad idea and begin looking in a new direction. That’s what I’ve done and now you need to do that, too.

  Take care, Anna.

  The deed is well and truly done. I press send and as it disappears so does a lot of my anxiety. Only a loser, or a maniac, would ignore that message and Karl is neither of those things. Maybe I should have sent that email a lot sooner, but it’s taken a while to get to the root of my problem and accept that my hesitancy wasn’t just about Karl’s blasé attitude.

  Now, as I work on redesigning Le Manoir d’Orsenne’s website, my head is full of ideas for my own new business. Suddenly, any mental barriers have finally been broken down and the future is starting to excite me once more. I hear a scratching at my bedroom door and on opening it, Ziggy flounces in and jumps straight up onto the bed leaving little room for my legs. But it’s a comfort having her with me and I don’t care if that means having to sit with my legs bent awkwardly. I feel calmer and more at peace whenever she’s around me, so it’s a small price to pay.

  Before I go to sleep, I email Lizzie, as if she and Daniel can’t make that week in July I will be so disappointed. I miss the buzz of having friends around me and I even, sort of, miss the working environment. There was always something happening at home, whether it was a party, a concert or just the day to day general interactions in the office. Then I realise that what I also miss is the gossip and that’s something I find surprising. Ziggy twitches in her sleep, her whiskers moving vigorously, as she’s no doubt chasing something in her dream.

  When I finally lie down and turn off the light a feeling of blissful tranquillity settles over me. Soon sleep begins to weave her veil around my thoughts, shutting them down. A feeling of well-being consumes me as if a line has been drawn and I’m now free to move forward.

  Settling for Tranquillity

  Turning up at the barn unannounced, I’m not sure what Sam’s reaction will be.

  ‘Morning. This is a nice surprise.’

  Sam saunters towards me as I slam the car door shut and greets me, French style.

  ‘Mum felt bad they were too late back yesterday to give you your cheque.’

  He takes the envelope I hold out to him and nods gratefully.

  ‘You needn’t have driven over, but it’s kind of you. Now you’re here do you have time for a coffee?’

  ‘I don’t want to hinder you if you’re working.’

  He’s dressed in his usual work wear of old jeans and a faded t-shirt splattered with everything from paint to cement.

  ‘I’m always working, but weekends it’s at a slower pace as I’m limited by what I can afford to buy. Anyway, I need the caffeine.’

  His smile is warm and I can tell he’s pleased to see me. I wonder if he ever feels lonely and isolated at weekends with few people of his own age to mix with. There’s only so much time you can spend with your parents and their friends. It’s not like there’s a venue close by where he can go to see his favourite band, or dance the night away after a beer or two with his mates. Although I suspect there may be a few local guys he can share the odd pint with on occasion. He mentioned working alongside a couple of guys from the village when his dad has a big project on the go.

  ‘Come inside, it won’t take a moment.’

  The inside of the caravan’s not quite as bad as I’d feared at first glance. If you can ignore the seventies curtains, which could almost pass for fashionably retro. I start laughing and he turns on his heels, mugs in hand, to look at me in surprise.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ He’s amused by my amusement.

  ‘You could probably sell these curtains on eBay to an avid seventies collector. Orange circles and brown squares aren’t actually too bad when they’re… nicely faded. Vintage is all the rage these days.’

  That makes him chuckle out loud.

  ‘Sugar?’

  ‘No thanks. This is rather nice – you making me coffee for a change.’

  ‘I guess I do owe you a few cups. Shall we take it out to the barn?’

  ‘Good idea. The view’s stunning from there.’

  He picks up both mugs and I follow him outside. As soon as I’m safely down the rickety wooden steps he hands me a mug.

  ‘Thanks. You can talk me through your plans. Last time I was here it was rather late in the day and everything looks different in the sunshine.’

  He glances sideways at me, as if surprised by my interest. I can understand that he’s cautious, after all, we aren’t friends as such. Just two people working together for a short period of time. It’s not as if we singled each other out in a crowd. I fleetingly wonder if that could have been the case, though? Maybe in a different time and a different place. Although these days I don’t really recognise myself anymore; I’m changing and that fiercely independent, over-achiever is mellowing. I don’t know if that’s a good thing, or not.

  ‘Sorry, I’m not used to anyone showing any real interest.’

  ‘How many people have you invited out here?’

  He laughs. ‘Erm, I guess that could be the reason, then.’

  The double doors to the barn are open wide and I can see that Sam has shifted a whole stack of oak floorboards he’s recycling. There’s a long piece of partly sanded timber supported at each end by heavy duty sawhorses.

  ‘This is a good sized space; not so big that you feel overwhelmed but not so small that it will disappoint when i
t’s finished. It’s going to have the wow factor, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s the idea. I’m going to partition this end off and there will be a cloakroom, a utility room and a large pantry. It will come to about here.’ He marks a line on the dusty floor with the heel of his boot. ‘The rest will be open plan living, with the kitchen units and integrated appliances housed on this back wall. Above this area will be two bedrooms, each with an en-suite bathroom.’

  ‘That view is going to be stunning from the bedrooms, looking out over the fields and the tops of the trees. It’s going to be something very special, Sam.’

  He seems pleased that I can appreciate his vision.

  ‘Both bedrooms will have vaulted ceilings to give an added feeling of space and it’s going to have a contemporary feel. The furniture will be minimal and the windows won’t have anything at all to obscure them. The glass will be tinted to act as a filter to prevent glare from the sun and also reduce the amount of heat build-up. The idea is to use materials that are energy efficient and keep running costs down.’

  ‘How wonderful to wake up each morning to be greeted by nothing but green fields and the odd sheep, or rabbit, who happens to be passing by.’

  We stand, coffee mugs clasped in our hands, looking out at the field beyond the boundary wall. It’s a little piece of heaven; a place where you can pretend that no one else exists, because all there is as far as the eye can see is nature at its best. Apologies to the sheep who are too busy grazing to notice us, but I’m talking about humans here, the beings who make life complicated and screw things up.

  ‘It’s a good investment. What’s your timeframe for completion?’

  I take a swallow of coffee, peering at Sam over the top of the mug. He doesn’t take his eyes off me.

  ‘Now that’s where you and I are very different. It will take as long as it takes.’

  His tone is slightly defensive.

  ‘But you must have some idea. Months, years—?’

  ‘Why?’

  I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t asked the question.

  ‘Okay, are you likely to still be living in the caravan in five years’ time?’

  Now I’m beginning to lose my patience. If this is how he reacts to some friendly interest in his project, then I can see why he isn’t keen to ask people around.

  ‘You’ve missed the point. Living here means choosing a different lifestyle. There is no big life plan as I don’t think like that anymore. It’s not an “investment” because this is where I’m going to be spending the rest of my days. I’m happy enough in the caravan and if I started setting myself targets it would turn this into work, not pleasure.’

  I listen to what he’s saying, but I can’t comprehend his attitude.

  ‘Now that sounds a little crazy to me, as clearly you know exactly what you want to achieve here. When you’re doing the day job you have no problem setting yourself deadlines. Without a plan of action days will turn into weeks and months into years. Aren’t you worried you’ll end up wasting some of the best years of your life? The years when you are supposed to be setting things up for a better future for yourself?’

  He looks down at the floor, feigning a sudden interest in the layer of dust beneath his feet.

  ‘You can’t understand because you’re ambitious and you want more. More than you have right now. I already have everything I want, so why should I stress myself out working harder to earn the money to speed up the process? Can’t you see that’s a vicious circle? We get trapped into believing we need more and more and more. The truth is that we need a lot less than we think. I could up my hourly rate and stop doing favours for people but that’s not the way I operate.’

  He makes it all sound so simple, but life is anything but in my experience. It’s wonderful to do a good deed and help someone out but it’s almost like he regards this as a penance. Who could he have possibly hurt so badly that he feels he can’t put his own needs first at times?

  ‘You’re either a genius or a man destined for disappointment and I can’t make my mind up which, at this precise moment. All I know is that settling for so little could never be a life I would choose and yet, despite what you might think, I don’t regard myself as obsessively materialistic. Yes, I want a nicer house and money in the bank as a measure of security for the future, who doesn’t? I see that as the minimum to aim for, rather than an unnecessarily ambitious goal. But for me it’s also about the satisfaction of rising to a challenge; succeeding at something that makes me grow. Achievement isn’t a dirty word, Sam, and whether you like it or not, your project will be just that. The fact that you’re not doing it to make money is your conscious decision.’

  I think my honesty has shocked him a little. We continue to stare at each other in silence for a few seconds.

  ‘Let’s have this conversation again in thirty years. Make a note of it in your diary. I know I’m not a genius and I hope I’m not destined for disappointment. Only time will tell.’

  He smiles at me, his eyes crinkling up and his face relaxed. My words haven’t upset him and I’m relieved, as that wasn’t my intention. Without knowing his past it’s impossible to know why he dropped out of university, or what triggered this major re-think of his life. At some point it seems that he had a plan and it’s abundantly clear he has a passion for architecture and design. I wonder where it all began to go wrong for him?

  ‘Did you manage to talk to Honorine?’

  He raises his eyebrows. ‘Smart move; that conversation was going nowhere fast. Yes, I did. She gave me the name of Thomas’ teacher but unfortunately she now lives in Rennes. Honorine thinks she also knew Thomas’ mother. I made a few notes and they’re in the car.’

  I perk up, after starting to feel rather down about a conversation that was getting a little out of hand. Although I don’t think I was judging Sam any more than he was judging me.

  ‘Oh, great, thank you. And as for the other matter I think we are going to have to agree to disagree on that one.’

  He reaches out to take the empty mug from my hands. ‘Spoken like a true diplomat. You should be in politics. Now let’s get that address and you can decide what your next move is going to be. That’s another skill you can add to your list – budding detective.’

  Now he’s getting his own back and I can’t say I blame him. It’s not as if my life is a shining example of how to achieve true happiness, is it?

  ‘Look, if you want to talk to this lady then I’m happy to interpret. It’s probably just over an hour’s drive and I could take you there tomorrow if you fancy a trip out.’

  It’s a very kind offer and I realise that no matter what our differences, we respect each other’s choices.

  ‘That would be great, thank you, Sam. I’d be delighted to take you up on that offer.’

  An Afternoon of Discovery

  As we head towards Rennes, where Thomas’ teacher now lives, Sam brings me up to speed on what Honorine was able to tell him.

  ‘Elise Moreau taught English at the local school and Honorine believes that she knew Thomas’ mother well. Why she thought that, though, was rather vague. Her memory wasn’t very clear but she repeated it several times. Elise moved away the year before last and I thought at first this was going to be a dead end. But then Honorine rang Inès Gaubert.’

  ‘The baker’s wife I met at the party?’

  He nods. ‘Claude’s wife. She runs the little épicerie next door to the bakery and she knows everyone and everything that goes on in the village.’

  I bet she doesn’t know much about Sam.

  ‘And Inès knew Elise’s address? Does that mean they kept in touch?’

  Sam shakes his head. ‘They are cousins, apparently, and she sends her a card every Christmas. You might want to speak to her yourself, at some point. I’m sure she’d be delighted to tell you what she knows.’

  I wonder if I should have done that anyway to save the trip but Sam seems happy enough to be involved and it’s a lovely day for a ride o
ut.

  ‘Well, thanks for gathering the information and let’s hope this lady is at home and is receptive when she’s faced with two strangers.’

  ‘She’s bi-lingual, so that’s half the battle and Honorine was our contact, so we can mention her name. This seems to have really touched her heart and I think if you can return the jewellery box to Thomas it will mean a lot to her. She is eager for further news that he’s settled and happy.’

  We’re cruising along a straight road that seems to go on forever and I can’t believe how relaxed I feel. Sam is good company and our frank exchange of yesterday hasn’t left any ill-feeling between us.

  ‘That’s good to hear and I hope at the end of this search we can perhaps reunite them. I wonder why he has never come back to the village, even just to see Honorine?’

  Sam shrugs, not taking his eyes off the road ahead.

  ‘Too many mixed memories, maybe. It’s funny, but I’ve never had much to do with Honorine and yet, over the course of the last few days she’s come to feel very comfortable around me.’

  He seems pleasantly surprised by this and I wonder why. You have to make time to get to know people, or they will always be strangers to you. Obviously, living here, he doesn’t really have an active social life and maybe you don’t notice when your little world begins to shrink. He interacts when he’s at work and with his parents, but then he goes home to his little plot of land in the middle of fields and forest with only the animals for company.

  ‘Your mind is whirring again, I can almost hear it. Is this an ominous silence?’

  I smile to myself. ‘No, just surprised that you don’t feel isolated out here at times.’

  He turns his head to look at me for a brief second.

  ‘You have to stop analysing everything all the time and treating what happens as if it’s a part of a puzzle that needs solving. I like my life just the way it is, Anna.’