by Lucy Coleman
I pull myself together, cross that it’s brought me to tears.
‘Sorry, I’ve spoilt a lovely afternoon tea session.’
There’s a cough and we all look up to see Sam standing there with two empty mugs in his hands. He looks a little lost for words and gestures towards the teapot.
‘Sorry to interrupt, but we wondered if there was any more tea? We’ve finally resolved all the problems—’ His words trail off and I’m in no doubt at all that he’s trying to pretend he didn’t hear what was being said.
Mum fills the mugs and he beats a hasty retreat. I wipe my eyes on my sleeve and sniff.
‘Let’s not get this out of perspective, Mum. I let it get to me for a moment there, that’s all. We’re talking about my ex-workplace, so there’s no real harm done. And I’m here for another five months so by then, even if I do nothing, everyone will realise there is no engagement. I put the last lot of flowers in the compost bin. This time I’m going to cut them up into little pieces and send them back to him. Maybe that will deter him from wasting his money in future.’
Mum and Sarah exchange worried glances, but say nothing. Let’s be honest – however I react to this is going to be perceived as slightly odd, as it’s a bizarre situation to be in. So, maybe some amateur dramatics are precisely what’s called for.
A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed
I spend a sleepless night, thoughts of Karl going round and round inside my head. What if he genuinely believes he can win me back? After all, he spent the best part of a year telling me that he loved me every single day. I just didn’t believe him. Perhaps I’m the one with the disconnect issue? Maybe I’m incapable of trusting anyone again when it comes to my heart? Is that why my reaction is off the scale? I’ve decided to wait and see what happens when he receives that next FedEx parcel.
This morning we enjoy a leisurely breakfast together before Mum and Dad head off.
‘You really don’t mind covering things, here, Anna? It’s just easier to get everything sorted in one go.’ Dad is such a worrier at times.
‘I’ve arranged for Sam to come and stay overnight and asked him to do the breakfast. I know cooking isn’t your thing and it’s unfair to expect you to cook and serve. Now don’t give me that look. I can’t go off with an easy conscience if I felt you had to cope on your own.’
‘Really, Mum? Sam’s a builder, not a chef. Okay, so I’m an advertising executive and I’m not exactly qualified either, but I’m not that bad… am I?’
Dad is trying hard not to laugh and I stare at him in disbelief that he isn’t backing me up.
‘What? I’m just remembering the bacon that jumped off the plate. Worse than bullets, as it shattered.’
It was only once. Burnt bacon that was way beyond crispy and almost inedible. I admit that I’m used to eating out and I do tend to regard a bowl of cereal as a meal when I’m at home alone. So what?
‘And Sam cooks?’ I raise my eyebrows questioningly.
‘Actually,’ Dad interjects, ‘he does. He cooked a meal for Neil, Sarah and us once. Jolly nice it was, too. Chicken in red wine and it wasn’t Sarah’s recipe.’
Good looking, can renovate pretty much anything and he can cook. ‘Well, I can’t imagine he’s had much practice in that caravan of his.’
‘Anna – that was a mean thing to say.’ Mum sounds disappointed.
I hang my head because she’s right and I think of the paper with Sarah’s number on it tucked into my purse. But I still think Mum should have run this past me first.
‘You’re away one night, Mum, and it’s one breakfast. I could have managed, believe me.’
‘Well, it’s done now and if there are any domestic emergencies at least you will have a builder on hand. Everything else I know you’ll be able to cope with but please, be nice to Sam and don’t hold it against him that he’s a better cook than you are.’
I almost choke on my toast.
‘He’ll arrive after lunch as he’s going to hang the doors in the gîte and get the architraves up so that it’s ready for you to begin painting on Monday.’
‘Well, that at least makes a little more sense now.’
‘That’s my girl. When Sam offered to do the breakfasts, I thought that it was a rather nice gesture. He doesn’t know you aren’t good in the kitchen, so it’s not like I’ve been telling tales.’
And that’s supposed to make me feel better?
When I wave them off it does though, suddenly seem rather deserted as all the guests are out for the day. The house always creaks, but I guess I didn’t notice quite how much when there were other people around.
Grateful for a distraction and feeling rather curious, I ring Sarah’s number.
‘Oh, hi, Anna. Thank you for calling. Give me a moment and I’ll wander out into the garden.’
I can hear voices in the background and I wait a few moments until Sarah begins speaking again.
‘Sorry, Sam’s just signing for a parcel and I’d rather he didn’t hear us talking. I’m not sure he’d approve, you see. It’s only that Sam lost a very close friend and it’s coming up to the seventh anniversary of her death. Before you arrived, I thought he was… slipping back into his old ways. Oh, it’s difficult to explain as it’s a long story. He’s been better and finally I thought the worst was over, I mean, grief can’t go on forever, can it?’
I feel she’s talking to herself, rather than to me, and when she stops I say nothing, I just hold the phone close to my ear and wait.
‘The psychiatrist warned he might relapse but this time we thought… hoped, it wouldn’t come to that. I wanted you to know that if he acts strangely in any way there is a reason for it. I don’t think he’ll turn to me this time and I wondered as the two of you seemed to be getting along so well—’
‘If he decides to talk to me then of course I’ll be as supportive as I can. I am sorry to hear about his loss, Sarah, and how deeply it’s affected him. It must make you feel rather helpless at times. He’s a sensitive guy in many respects and it’s at odds with his almost offhand approach to his future. I knew something was troubling him, so it does help to know that. No wonder people are more important to him than anything else, that must have been quite a blow. I’ll be careful what I say and mindful of this and I’m grateful for your trust. Sam’s been a wonderful help to my parents and if there’s anything at all I can do, then I will.’
‘Thank you, Anna. This isn’t a conversation I ever thought I’d have because Sam is such a private person. But being around you has given him a lift and reminded him that life goes on, I think. I simply wish it wasn’t that time of the year again, as it always brings him down. Thank you for understanding.’
Even after we say goodbye I can’t switch off my thoughts as I think of the moments when I’ve been in Sam’s company and his mind has been elsewhere. I try to shake off the sadness I feel and spend the remainder of the morning finishing off the changes to the website. Then I focus on the new brochure. After lunch, I take a lot of photos of the garden, which is now burgeoning with colour. Out of thirty shots I choose four which capture the ambience of the setting perfectly. I really hope Mum and Dad will love what I’ve done and then it will be on to working on my own brand for my new business.
Sam arrives, seeking me out in the garden where I’m working on the iPad. He’s dressed in his usual work gear.
‘I put my holdall up in the room, is that okay? Viv gave me a key for the front door and the key to room five. It’s going to take me a couple of hours to hang the doors and sort the frames. Is it all right if I make a coffee before I start? Would you like one?’
I’ve already forgiven Mum for extending her invitation to Sam and realise that this is a rather isolated location, after all. Having someone whose French is vastly superior to mine in case of an emergency is probably a wise move. And, besides, Ziggy seems to appear every time Sam is around regardless how hot it is, so that’s a bonus.
‘Help yourself and yes, thank you. I’m wo
rking on the new brochure for Le Manoir and it’s going to take a while to load up the photos and get the copy sorted. It’s rather pleasant working out here. Do you need any help with those doors, because if you do I can break off at any time?’
‘No, I’m good. Nothing I can’t do in my sleep, really.’ He smirks and then heads off back up the path to the house.
*
Wouldn’t you know it, but late afternoon the lock jams on a guest’s bedroom door and Sam seems really pleased to be able to jump in to save the day. In fairness, it’s something I couldn’t have sorted myself. He had to take it apart and fiddle with springs as it’s an original lock. But the way he interacted with the older couple was like seeing another side to him again. He was at ease, charming and chatty. No wonder his mother is so worried about him.
I half consider suggesting I’ll cook an evening meal for the two of us, but reluctantly acknowledge that everything Mum said about my culinary skills is true. Instead, I offer to take Sam out for a meal. It’s the least I can do, especially now I understand what a tough weekend this is for him. However, I have my fingers crossed he will offer to step in and cook, especially when two of the families who are staying ask if they can use the barbecue. Sam – bless him – sets everything up for them while I arrange some crockery, condiments and cutlery.
‘We need to stay just to keep an eye on things,’ he informs me, although I feel he’s also being a little diplomatic. It’s kind of him, as I wasn’t really happy about leaving the guests to sort themselves out; just in case something went wrong.
Swinging open the refrigerator door, I gaze inside.
‘How about I sort the starter and the dessert, and you do the main course? There’s a choice of steak or chicken. There’s probably fish in the freezer if you want to take a look.’
When I spin back around to face him he has a broad smile on his face.
‘Chicken will be perfect,’ he replies but he’s still smiling to himself and I think it’s at my expense.
I can’t possibly mess up pâté and lightly toasted slices of baguette, or a dish of strawberries and ice cream.
We work alongside each other and it only takes about half an hour to get everything ready. With the chicken fillets in the oven, we head off to the formal dining room so that the guests can have the run of the kitchen. There’s a lot of noise coming from the garden but it’s mainly the kids playing ball and everyone seems quite happy.
We sit opposite each other and Sam immediately tucks in, buttering a slice of toasted baguette and covering it with a thick layer of pâté.
‘Everything is ready for you to prime and paint, now,’ he says between mouthfuls.
‘Great. I might even get a few hours in tomorrow.’
‘I’ve left out the brushes and several tins of paint. There’s a primer to paint over any knots in the wood, some filler for any cracks, then an undercoat and a top coat. Personally, I’d give it two undercoats and one top coat. There’s sandpaper but I did do a quick once-over myself.’
‘Thanks. At least this is a task I know how to tackle. The pressure is on now to get it finished ready for Lizzie and Daniel.’
‘Piece of cake. We have it under control.’ He’s blasé, even though he has a small kitchen to fit out and a bathroom to plumb in.
We continue to eat in silence and I think about how hard Sam works and how well he plans everything. I feel he is always one step ahead and we’ve never had to down tools and wait for materials to arrive because of his organisational skills. That’s quite something.
‘I thought you might be a little annoyed your mum asked me to come over to help out. I’d hate to upset you and she meant well.’
I shrug. ‘Proves she was right, as there’s one fact I can’t dispute – I can’t mend locks. Oh, but I have some information about Thomas! I’ve found him.’
Sam wipes his mouth on a paper napkin and pushes his plate aside.
‘You have? Well, that’s a surprise.’
I talk him through the phone calls and how I tracked him down and pull out my phone to show him Tom Laurent’s blog. He can see how impressed I am.
‘You favour guys who aim big, don’t you? I mean, this Karl, he’s a high achiever, too. And quite romantic, from what I’ve seen.’
I look at him, my face deadpan.
I shake my head from side to side and sigh. ‘I can see why you think that, Sam, and I guess Karl has his romantic moments. But sending that ring was no romantic gesture, because to get engaged to someone you have to ask them first. In person. And they are required to give you an answer, whether it’s yes or no. It’s not a one sided thing, so how can that be regarded as romantic in anyone’s eyes?’
Sam scrunches up his face and nods in agreement.
‘I see your point. I guess I just saw what looked like the gesture of a guy trying to convince you he thinks you’re the one for him.’
‘That’s understandable, I suppose. But he’s convinced quite a few people that it’s true and that we really are engaged. Thankfully, when I go back I’ll be starting over somewhere new and setting up my own business, so no lasting damage will have been done. The stand I’m taking is that Karl made this mess and now he has to clear it up.’
Sam grimaces.
‘You’re one tough lady. But you are controlling your anger surprisingly well. So when will you be meeting up with this guy, Tom?’
‘Apparently Tom’s back the middle of next month and he’ll be in Nîmes for a few days. I’m hoping to go and visit him there.’
Sam is watching me, intently.
‘Nîmes, you say? That’s only a couple of hours’ drive from Cannes.’
I shrug; I haven’t had time to consult a map yet so I wasn’t aware it was going to be such a long journey.
‘It’s just a thought… risky, I know, as I seem to keep putting my foot in it with regards to Tom. But, I’m heading off on the tenth for this five day trip and you are very welcome to join me. Jack’s parents’ place is huge and it has stunning views, a great pool and a hot tub. There will be people there I haven’t seen in years, but there will be lots of organised things to do, too, I suspect. It would be nice to have some company on the journey and on the day trips I’m sure Jack will be planning. Nîmes will also be a great day out. What do you think?’ We’ve both finished eating and Sam checks his watch, then pushes his chair back. ‘The chicken will be ready. I’ll take out the plates, you sit and relax. It will only take me five minutes to reduce the sauce.’
I’m glad of the thinking time as I mull over his suggestion. I’ve never been to Cannes before and a break would be nice. But it’s a risk as I have no idea what his friends are like, or whether we’d have anything in common. And, besides, I hardly know Sam. I only know the little that he’s chosen to tell me and what Sarah felt she could share with me.
‘Here you go. Chicken fricassée with asparagus and new potatoes.’
The creamy wine sauce smells heavenly and I get a whiff of onions, slightly caramelised and with a distinctly buttery overtone.
‘This looks amazing, Sam, thank you. You don’t really want to go to Cannes, do you?’
He sits down, leaning back in his chair and resting one arm on the table. His body language is open.
‘No. I don’t. But if I don’t do this trip then I can’t lay the past to rest. I’m not doing it for me, but for my mum. But don’t feel obliged to take up the offer as I’m going anyway. Sometimes you have to make yourself do the thing you least want to do.’
I don’t know whether to feel alarmed, or saddened, by his words.
‘And while we’re on the subject, did my mum talk to you about me the other day in the garden?’
I clam up, my face freezes as I try not to give anything away.
‘No. Why?’
He narrows his eyes as he peers at me.
‘You’re an awful liar, Anna, and it doesn’t suit you.’ But then he begins laughing. ‘She thinks you are a good influence on me; that being around
someone vibrant, motivated and forward thinking will turn me around. She means well, but whatever she said, please remember there are times when everyone’s parents embarrass them.’
‘Like my mum asking you to babysit me?’ We both burst out laughing. ‘What are we, twelve year olds who need watching?’
‘One day you’ll be doing the same to your kids, just remember that.’
That’s a bit of a statement. ‘What makes you assume I’m going to have kids?’
‘You’re the sort, Anna. It’s not a criticism and I’m surprised you feel it might be. I suppose it’s not quite politically correct these days. But if you said I was the bachelor type I wouldn’t take offence at that.’
This is getting just a little more personal than I’m comfortable with and we both pick up our knives and forks to resume eating.
Time to Relax
‘I know you’re doing a lot of work on the internet in your free time but I wondered if you fancied a quick dip in the pool, as a nice way to end the day?’
With the dishes all cleared away it’s true that I was intending to head off upstairs and jump online. It seems rude, though, to reject his offer when he’s here doing me a big favour.
‘Sounds good. I’ll meet you out there.’ Obviously, Sam is in need of a little company tonight.
We head off in different directions and once I’ve changed I grab a couple of large towels. Thank goodness I have a bikini that doesn’t look too bad on me and as I approach the pool I’m pleased to see I’ve beaten him to it.
The solar lights are plenty bright enough to give a lovely warm ambience to the setting and as I slip into the water it doesn’t take long for my body to adjust to the temperature.
I lie back, drifting around lazily and watch Sam as he walks towards me. His navy blue swimming shorts reveal just how fit and muscular his body really is and this matches my expectations. I find myself fighting a rather naughty smile. It’s a pity we aren’t the type of people to throw caution to the wind but then we aren’t here alone and it wouldn’t be the right thing to do. Imagine how awkward the morning after the night before would be. I start laughing as he eases himself over the edge of the pool.
