by Lucy Coleman
I avoid her gaze.
‘You’ve heard from him again, haven’t you?’
I hate being so transparent at times, but then Lizzie knows me so well.
‘He was apologetic, realising the ring in the post thing was ludicrous. He’s been made a director and he says it means nothing to him if we aren’t together.’
We clink our respective glasses. The cool, slightly fruity water is refreshing and welcome.
‘No second thoughts?’
I look her firmly in the eye. ‘No second thoughts whatsoever. In fact, men are off the agenda completely, as far as I’m concerned. It’s time I took a journey of self-discovery.’
‘Good for you. I don’t like the way Karl assumes you’ll just fall into his arms and to me that’s a sign of an over inflated ego. I’m still seething that he managed to charm me into thinking he was Mr Perfect. Take some time for yourself before you think about getting involved with anyone else – even if meeting the lovely Tom provides an unexpected temptation. This business idea is perfect for you, Anna, and I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. It wasn’t easy walking away from your job, but if you could do that, then you can do anything.’
She leans across to give me a hug, just as Mum arrives to see what we’re up to.
‘The boys said you were down here. Am I interrupting?’
We both shake our heads.
‘No, not at all,’ Lizzie muses. ‘Daniel is grilling Sam about life in France and I’m quizzing Anna on her plans, and they don’t include Karl.’
Mum drops down onto one of the chairs with a thud.
‘Thank goodness for that! My opinion of him wasn’t any higher than Geoff’s, but I’m more diplomatic.’ Mum says as she turns in my direction. ‘You are your own woman, Anna, not someone’s second fiddle.’
Lizzie and I begin laughing – only Mum could have put it quite like that!
*
I give Lizzie and Daniel directions to the lake and they head off shortly after lunch. Mum and Dad have their hands full today as three new couples are due to arrive later this afternoon. Sam and I spend the afternoon doing more prep on the walls and ceiling, ending up in the garage doing a sort-out and de-clutter.
‘The end is in sight, isn’t it? How long will it take, once we’re back from Cannes?’
Sam straightens, scratching his chin. ‘Three weeks max, I reckon.’
‘What do you have planned after that?’
‘Well, Dad’s struggling a bit, to be honest, so I guess I’ll get stuck in and help out.’
His own project still isn’t going to be top of the list. He jumps straight in, probably realising what I’m thinking and tries to distract me.
‘What are your plans?’
I stop what I’m doing and stand. Looking directly at him, neither of us blink.
‘I’ll do what I can to help out here when the pressure is on. I might not be able to cook breakfast, but I can wait tables. I can help with the laundry and getting rooms ready for new arrivals. Even give Dad a hand in the garden. In between I’ll be on the internet working away. Having a plan is one thing, making it happen is another.’
He angles his head.
‘Was that a dig?’
I smile sweetly. ‘Only if you want it to be.’
‘Daniel is keen to come back later in the summer to give me a hand. I have no idea how Lizzie is going to feel about that. I hope I haven’t caused any problems between them. He can’t believe I don’t have some sort of schedule for the work. Is there anyone you know who isn’t like you?’
He gives me a cheeky grin and I can see it’s merely banter but deep down I think he’s feeling a little cornered by Daniel’s interest. Anyone would feel awkward refusing outright a kind and generous offer, but I can see that Sam isn’t happy. And he isn’t comfortable.
‘I can have a word with him if you like and suggest he waits to see how things progress, as you have a lot of work to do with your dad. How’s that?’
The smile he gives me is one of immense relief.
‘Could you do that? I mean, I am grateful – really, I am. I know I’m lucky to have people around me who care enough to be concerned but if I’m not worried about anything, then I don’t want them to worry on my behalf.’
‘Point taken. And I’m sorry if you feel I’ve been pushing you. As a consummate starter/finisher I see every unfinished task as a challenge.’
‘So, I’m a challenge to you, am I? Unlike Karl.’
I spin around, giving him a sharp look that wipes the smile off his face.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that remark. I forgot to engage my brain and it was said in jest,’ he admits. ‘You deserve someone who is your equal, not someone who wants to control and manipulate you. It was my rather inept attempt at acknowledging that I’m a sad case. Maybe it’s easier for us to rub along if you write me off as a worthless cause.’
I scoop back my hair, wanting him to see the look on my face.
‘You aren’t worthless in any sense of the word, Sam. But maybe that’s the lesson life has yet to teach you.’
We both shrug; agreeing to disagree. I thought I didn’t know myself but Sam wins the gold medal to my silver one.
A Garden Party
The week flies by and before we know it it’s Lizzie and Daniel’s last evening at Le Manoir. With every room full there’s quite a buzz with a steady stream of guests coming and going. Mum and Dad decide it would be a great idea to throw a bit of a party in the garden. Sam, Mum, Lizzie and I spend most of the day in the kitchen. I’m chief washer-upper, leaving those with the requisite skills to do the cooking.
Dad and Daniel are left to dispense invitations to guests and friends in the village, then turn their attention to setting up a buffet table and temporary gazebo in the garden.
Ironically, Sam is quite comfortable to be working as a part of a team and I realise that he’s only self-conscious when he’s the focus of attention. So, it’s not a fear of having people around him as such, it’s probably more accurate to say he has a fear of other people’s expectations of him. I make a mental note to tread much more carefully around him when we’re off on the trip to Cannes. After all, I’m at an age where people have expectations about me too, namely that I have a boyfriend, maybe even a fiancé, in tow whereas at this moment in time I’ve never been more single. That doesn’t mean I’m happy about it, though, or that I haven’t tried.
And now I’m giving up on trying, anyway. What happens, happens. Wow – maybe Sam’s ethos is catching. But then, isn’t it just a cop-out, a way of avoiding the real issue? In times of uncertainty do nothing, sort of thing? Sadly, I doubt that’s ever been the answer to any problem in life because it’s all about trial and error.
‘You okay, Anna? That’s a serious look you have going on there.’
Well, at least it’s Dad who has caught me deep in thought again and not Sam.
‘Do you and Mum worry about me all the time?’
Dad smirks. ‘Pretty much.’
‘If I was settled, you know, in Lizzie’s situation would you still worry about me?’
‘Yep. That’s what parents do, it’s called caring. There’s always something to worry about, Anna. And I know you worry about us – that’s a part of life.’
‘But what about when I’ve made bad decisions in the past. I mean, you’re always there for me but how do you cope when you see things going wrong?’
He sighs, placing his arms around my shoulders and wrapping me up close to him.
‘Unfortunately, Anna, you are a natural born worrier too, my darling. Who is hurting now that you can’t save?’
‘Sam. He’s a great guy but he’s wasting his life.’
Dad releases me, placing his hands on my shoulders and looking straight into my eyes.
‘We thought you were wasting your life spending time with Karl, but if we’d told you that you wouldn’t have believed us. Sometimes in life you need the bad times to be able to move on
and make the good times happen. Viv and I feel that things are changing for you now, so don’t get pulled into a situation which isn’t of your making. We’d all like to see Sam pushing forward and fulfilling his full potential, but he’s happy in his own way. Neil told me Sam was a broken man when he arrived in France and maybe he’s coping in the only way he can. It’s wonderful that you care, Anna, but you can’t interfere. Now, let’s start ferrying out the plates and glasses. I’m really looking forward to tonight.’
*
By late evening most of the buffet has been demolished and a lot of the guests seem to be out here, too, more than happy to join in. Everyone who was invited from the village has turned up at the party, and it’s surprising how long it takes to circulate and chat to the people I already know.
Monsieur and Madame Deniaud ask about Thomas and I manage to find Honorine so that I can give them all an update. Honorine looks delighted when I tell her I’m meeting up with Thomas, whom I inform them prefers to be called Tom now. Sam joins us halfway through the conversation.
‘We always knew that boy would turn into a very special young man. I am not surprised to hear he is in Africa again. Exotic animals held a real fascination for him, even as a boy.’ Honorine’s eyes shine brightly as she talks.
Sam doesn’t join in, but is content to listen as I tell them about our trip to Rennes, to meet up with Elise Moreau.
‘Please tell Tom that we all remember him with great fondness,’ Monsieur Deniaud adds.
‘Oh, I will. I’m doing some work on his website and he also has a fascinating travel blog. It’s more like a diary, really, and it’s an amazing read. It’s called Le vétérinaire ambulant.’
Sam finally joins in the conversation and he sounds relaxed, happy even.
‘I’ll pop in with my laptop, Honorine, so you can see for yourself.’
‘I would like that. Thank you, Sam.’
‘I can’t believe there’s only one more day until we leave for Cannes.’ I turn to Sam and raise my glass. ‘Thank you for making this happen.’
‘I’m just the transport, you were the detective.’ He smiles back at me and we all raise our glasses.
‘Here’s to a successful mission and the return of some very precious items to their rightful owner,’ Monsieur Deniaud concludes and we all clink glasses.
*
Even though it’s late when I eventually climb the stairs to bed, I feel wired and I know there’s little point in trying to sleep. I have a quick shower and then sit down in front of the laptop.
As I start creating the pages of Tom’s new website, cutting and pasting photos and text from the old one and his blog, I get a real feel for the life he’s chosen. He’s an adventurer, but one with a heart and a set purpose because it’s all about the animals. There are a few photos with women who could possibly be a significant other, but it’s rarely the same person. I find myself checking out his relationship status on his Facebook page and see he’s single. I don’t suppose it would be easy to lead his sort of life and find time to keep a relationship going. I wonder if he still sees his father at all.
It’s 3 a.m. before I quit working, my eyelids drooping as I gently manoeuvre Ziggy across from the centre of the bed so I can slide in. Her whiskers are going and in her dreams no doubt she’s chasing a bird or a butterfly as she dashes across the garden. Sweet dreams, Ziggy.
*
Partings are always sad, but it’s been a real tonic having Lizzie and Daniel here, so it seems even harder. It was a reminder that I have another life in the UK, even though – ironically – it seems to have sown a seed for them about a life here in France.
Sam pops in on the bike to say a very brief goodbye and then disappears, finding it all a little awkward. I admit that both Lizzie and I feel tearful, unsure of when exactly we’ll next meet up.
As we wave them off, Mum turns to look at me. ‘Are you all packed for your road trip with Sam tomorrow?’
I shake my head. ‘Haven’t even thought about it. And it’s Cannes; not sure I have anything smart enough to lounge around a pool in, let alone day wear.’
Mum slides her arm around my waist as we walk back into the house. ‘Let’s take a look in that wardrobe of yours. I’m pretty sure I remember hanging up some clothes that you left with us in the old house. You know, the ones you always meant to reclaim at some point when you were settled.’
I laugh. ‘I know. Bet you even have my old keepsakes in boxes because I know you never throw anything away.’
‘Just in case,’ she admits. ‘You never know what you might be glad of one day.’
In fact, she turns out to be right and I discover several items I’d forgotten I ever had. Enough to make me feel that if I need to dress up, I’ll look reasonable enough and several dresses that are cool and don’t crease. I throw in a couple of pairs of shorts and some tops, and I’m done.
‘Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?’ Mum reflects. We check that the small suitcase will close and I hold my breath. Once I’ve unzipped the expander, even my toiletries and hair straighteners will fit in and eventually it’s done. With a 6 a.m. start I’m going to have to get as much sleep tonight as I can.
Mum heads off to the kitchen, where she’s going to sort out a cool box and begin preparing some things for the journey. It’s going to take just over ten hours if we make minimal stops. A lot of that will be on toll roads, which at least is an easy way to eat up the distance.
I fleetingly wonder how Sam and I will pass the time and whether there will be awkward periods of silence. Just in case, I go off in search of a few CDs and pop them into my handbag alongside Tom’s box, which is wrapped in a piece of white cotton. Roll on tomorrow!
Let the Karaoke Begin
When Sam arrives, I’m relieved to see it’s not his work’s van, or the dodgy looking Citroën he’s driving but his dad’s car, which is a left hand drive, Peugeot 407 estate. In all honesty, it’s going to be easier to drive, as it’s probably only about two years old. I did wonder whether Sam’s little run around was reliable and clearly, he had the same concerns.
For the first forty-five minutes in the car with Sam at the wheel we’re both rather quiet. Mainly because most of this part of the journey is on small, often busy roads that lead to an endless stream of roundabouts. It’s one after another, so it’s all about concentrating, listening to the satnav and not making a wrong turn. Then we hit some roadworks and our progress slows to a crawl.
Once we can pick up some speed again, the signs indicate that we’re about to join the A85 and I hope that means we will finally be able to cruise along for a while.
‘That’s the tricky bit over and it’s an easier run now for the bulk of the journey. It’s about a thousand kilometres. We’ll be travelling on the A85 which is a partial toll road, for just over two hundred kilometres and after that the A71, which is also a toll road. Do you fancy taking over for a while as it’s a reasonably straight run? I’m already on Dad’s insurance anyway. I gave him the details you emailed over to me so he could add you as an additional driver and you’re all legal.’
‘Thank you for sorting that out, Sam. Just let me know the cost.’
It’s thoughtful of Sam to have tackled the worst bit of the journey before offering me the wheel. We pull over and I settle into the driving seat. I regard myself as being a good driver but I’m a little nervous for some reason.
‘If we only stop for comfort breaks and to get a quick sandwich from the cool box, and assuming we can keep up a good speed, we’ll be there by early evening. Are you up for that?’
I nod, looking in the wing mirror as I prepare to pull away.
‘That suits me. I enjoy driving anyway. There are some CDs I brought for the journey in the top of my bag. Help yourself and see if there’s anything there that takes your fancy. A bit of a singalong helps a journey pass more quickly, I always find.’
I can feel Sam’s eyes on me. ‘Singing? You’re expecting me to sing?’
‘
My voice is awful but that doesn’t stop me enjoying a good Karaoke session. Have you never seen James Corden’s Carpool Karaoke?’
‘No. And I don’t recognise many of these song titles, either. ‘Uptown Funk’?’ I can feel his eyes studying my side profile.
‘Mark Ronson featuring Bruno Mars? Bruno wears a pink jacket in the video? You must have seen it on YouTube. Just put in the disc. I know all the words so you join in whenever you hear the chorus. It gets repeated a lot, so you’ll get the hang of it.’
Sam slides in the disc and I turn up the volume, unashamedly accompanying the lovely Bruno, matching him word for word. About halfway through Sam seems to pick it up and before long he’s singing at the top of his lungs, too, whenever he thinks he can fathom out the words. When the song finishes, we both start laughing.
‘There, that wasn’t so bad, was it? Maybe let’s try something a bit slower. I love, absolutely love, Adele’s ‘Hello’. If you don’t know at least some of the words then I’ll be very surprised given that you love your radio.’
‘I might know a few of the words and besides, I’m a quick learner.’ He sounds amused, at least.
Adele’s voice fills the car and it’s almost a sin to allow my appalling vocal efforts to mask even one note of hers, but it’s such fun and the words are compelling. When we get to the chorus Sam immediately joins in, so I guess it’s one he’s heard before. I literally fight to restrain myself in order not to do any hand movements, as I’ve watched the video so many times I could perform it in her exact style. It’s a shame when the last chord is struck.
‘Your turn, what do you have tucked away in that glove compartment?’
‘I have something that can’t fail. U2, ‘With or Without You’.’ He ejects Adele and soon we are rocking in our seats with Bono. I surprise myself and find that I know almost all of the words but Sam, I notice, is word perfect.
‘OK. My turn again.’
‘But we did two of yours already,’ Sam complains.
‘Now you’ve warmed up let’s up the pace. Put on ‘Wrecking Ball’ by Miley Cyrus. This one is unforgettable.’
