A French Affair

by Jennifer Bohnet

  ‘I haven’t mentioned anything to Anouk yet about the two of you talking, but you are still coming tonight, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes of course. Why?’

  ‘Scott’s leaving on Monday. This evening is in danger of turning into a bit of a tearful farewell dinner for him. I need you here for some light relief.’

  ‘In that case, do you have room for another guest? Alain is at a loose end,’ Belinda said impulsively.

  ‘Bring him. There’s lots of food and it will be good to have another man at the table. See you soon.’

  As the call finished, Belinda decided if Fern still hadn’t mentioned the reason for tonight’s dinner to Anouk when she got there, then she wouldn’t bring the subject up. Tonight didn’t look like the night to ask questions.

  Belinda was drying herself when she heard Alain moving around in his room and quickly pulled on her towelling robe before opening the bathroom door.

  ‘Alain,’ she called. ‘Your lonely evening has been averted. Fern is in desperate need of another man at the dinner table, would like you to join us for dinner?’

  Leaving the cottage, Belinda automatically had her car keys in her hand and pressed the unlock button.

  ‘We go in mine,’ Alain said.

  Belinda looked at him, surprised, as he held the passenger car door open for her. She shrugged. What did it matter which car they went in? She pressed her key fob again and the lights flashed and the door locks clicked back down.

  ‘If Anouk tells you something upsetting tonight, peut-être you drink more than is good. This way, I make sure you get home safely.’ Once Belinda was sitting in the passenger seat, Alain slammed the door closed and walked around to get into the driving seat.

  ‘I had a car like this once,’ Belinda said quietly. ‘The year we left France, Dad was teaching me to drive.’ She didn’t tell him that it had been another four years before she finally learnt to drive.

  ‘You like to drive?’

  ‘I do now, yes. Especially here in Brittany where the roads are quieter.’

  The rest of the short journey to the auberge passed in silence.

  Anouk and Scott were out in the garden when Fern let them in. Alain handed her the bottle of wine they’d stopped to buy in the village shop.

  ‘Thank you. You really didn’t have to. Come on through and meet Anouk and Scott.’

  Introductions were made quickly and Scott poured everyone their wine of choice before disappearing to help Fern with something in the kitchen.

  Anouk looked at Alain. ‘How are your parents? Fern tells me you’re running their old campsite now. I remember some good times there years ago, before they owned it of course. I’m talking about back in the sixties.’

  Belinda glanced at her. The late sixties were when her father had brought her and her mum to France to live. Maybe Anouk would be able to tell her something about her parents after all. As Scott returned, Belinda excused herself and went to talk to Fern in the kitchen.

  ‘The smells coming from this kitchen are, as always, delicious,’ Belinda said. ‘How are you really about Scott leaving?’

  Fern, concentrating on pouring a sauce into a jug, pulled a face. ‘I’m fine. It’s not as if we’re in the throes of a mad passionate relationship. We haven’t passed more than the friendship stage really.’ She turned to face Belinda. ‘I’ve always known he would have to return to his life in New York. I’ve always known too that long-distance relationships rarely survive.’ Fern hesitated. ‘Which is why I’ve struggled to keep things on a friendship basis, even though I really like him.’

  ‘My mum had a favourite song from her teenage years, she was always humming it or singing the words out loud. It used to irritate me like hell,’ Belinda said. ‘But now I understand her need to keep saying it. Que sera sera. What will be will be.’

  Fern nodded. ‘I remember that song too. And you’re right… it is an irritating phrase.’

  Belinda gave Fern a quick hug. ‘I know it doesn’t change anything, but it’s true. You have to hang on to that thought. If Scott wants a proper relationship with you, he will find a way. If not, you will be happy that you met him even for a short time and carry on with your life here.’ She moved away from Fern and picked up a stray cube of cheese from the work surface. ‘Listen to me, don’t I sound all grown-up and philosophical about things? When I’m truly not. If I was, I’d know what to do about Chloe’s recent bombshell.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Max has a new job at a marina in the Vendée. Brilliant promotion for him, from what they say, and Chloe is desperate for me to go with them. Give up my job and my flat. I’m not sure.’ It was her turn to grimace at Fern. ‘Que sera sera.’ Belinda picked up a dish of olives and cashews. ‘Enough. Shall I take these through and we can get the show on the road?’

  ‘Good idea. You and Alain look very comfortable together by the way. I’m guessing you no longer want to shoot him?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Belinda smiled. ‘He has his moments. But he’s definitely growing on me,’ she added quietly.

  Conversation between the five of them flowed from subject to subject. As they all made appreciative noises and tucked into the maigret de canard with caramelised onions and sauté potatoes that Fern placed in front of them, Belinda remembered something she wanted to ask Fern that had been floating around in her mind for days now. Something that she should really run past Alain before putting it out there, but she decided she’d risk upsetting him.

  ‘We’re looking to employ a couple of people to run the café for us this season,’ she said. ‘And I know you don’t want a full-time job like that, but would you be interested in providing the cakes, desserts and possibly a couple of main meals like lasagna.’ Without looking at him, Belinda sensed that Alain was staring at her.

  ‘What about the village bakery?’ Fern asked. ‘Won’t that be stepping on their toes?’

  ‘They’re already providing croissettes, bread and a few cakes to the shop and, of course, we’ll sell some of their stuff too in the café, but it would be nice to have a bit of variety.’ She looked at Fern hopefully. ‘You’re such a brilliant cook. And it would keep you out of mischief for the next few weeks.’

  ‘It’s a big commitment, but I’ll definitely think about it,’ Fern said.

  After that, the conversation turned to other things and it wasn’t until Belinda and Alain started to say their thank yous prior to leaving that Anouk spoke directly to Belinda.

  ‘Fern tells me that you’d like to talk to me about your French family?’ She raised her eyebrows as she looked at Belinda, who managed a surprised shaky nod. ‘Scott is taking Fern out for dinner Saturday night, so why don’t you come and spend the evening with me? We can talk then and I can tell you what I know about the Belrose scandal.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll see you then.’ A stunned Belinda followed Alain out to the car. Anouk did know about the past. Saturday evening she would finally, hopefully, learn the truth about what had really torn her family apart. Why had the locals back then dubbed it the Belrose scandal? Why did those three words strike fear into her heart?

  32

  Fern took extra time and care getting ready for her dinner date with Scott. It wasn’t that she wanted to impress him, simply that she wanted him to remember her looking as good as possible on what could turn out to be their last date. A last date that in reality was their first one. Yes, they’d spent a lot of time in each other’s company since Easter. Walking Lady, gardening, preparing meals together. None of which constituted a date, like going out for dinner did. Her hand trembled as she started to apply her favourite lipstick. Fern wanted him to remember her tonight as someone he would like to date again when he was a thousand miles away across the Atlantic Ocean. Someone he would return to when he’d dealt with the problems that had called him back.

  She took one last look in the mirror and decided that she looked good. Not sure where Scott planned on taking her, she’d opted for her favourite red
dress with a scooped neckline, long sleeves and a flared skirt. Because the evenings could still be chilly, she teamed it with a cream jacket with pale silk raised embroidery.

  Anouk was in the conservatory when she got downstairs. ‘You’re looking very glamorous tonight. Scott is going to have a ’ard time getting on that plane,’ she said with a twinkle in her eye.

  ‘But we both know that get on it he will,’ Fern said quietly.

  Anouk nodded. ‘You do like him, don’t you?’

  Fern nodded. ‘I do.’ There, she’d finally admitted it out loud.

  ‘So you must enjoy this evening, make ’appy memories to tide you over until he returns. Because he will, I know.’ Anouk smiled.

  ‘Belinda will be here soon to keep you company,’ Fern said. ‘I hope she’s ready for anything you might have to tell her. I’ve left a small supper tray out in the kitchen and a bottle of wine. Ah, I can hear Scott coming. I’ll see you later.’

  As the two of them were getting into Scott’s car, Belinda drove in.

  ‘Anouk’s waiting for you in the conservatory,’ Fern called out.

  ‘Have a good evening you two,’ Belinda answered. ‘Scott, it’s been a pleasure to meet you. Hope to see you again sometime.’

  ‘Oh you will definitely see me again,’ Scott assured her as he closed his car door.

  Fern glanced across at him. He sounded so sure, so confident that he would return, she would have to trust he would.

  Scott turned to look at her before he started the car. ‘Am I allowed to tell you that you look beautiful tonight? Because you do.’

  Fern smiled. ‘Thank you. You’re looking very smart too. Where are we going?’

  ‘I found a small family-run restaurant in Carhaix that sounds as if it could be good. Lots of positive reviews on TripAdvisor anyway. To be honest, I just want to spend the evening with you. I don’t really care what the food is like, probably won’t be up to your standard anyway,’ he said, grinning at her. ‘In which case, I apologise in advance.’

  When Scott turned onto the N164, Fern caught her breath. It will be all right, she muttered to herself. It’s the quickest way to Carhaix. It’s not the same stretch. You’re not driving. Just take deep breaths. She closed her eyes but sensed Scott glancing across at her.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m not very good on this road. I’ll be fine when we get to town,’ Fern replied, deciding to be honest.

  ‘Why this road? Oh,’ Scott said as he realised the problem. ‘I’m sorry. It didn’t occur to me. This is the road I’ve been using since I’ve been here.’

  ‘It’s not your fault, Scott. But maybe I can show you a different route when we go home.’ So much for wanting Scott to have special memories of her and the evening. He’d forever remember her now as the woman who almost had a panic attack in his car.

  The rest of the journey passed in silence as Fern concentrated on her breathing and Scott on his driving. Parking in the main street, Scott took her hand as they made their way down a narrow lane towards the restaurant he’d chosen.

  ‘Good choice,’ Fern whispered as he pushed open the door and they were greeted by the maître d’. The table they were shown to was in a secluded corner, with candles in sconces on the walls alongside and a bowl of floating candles surrounded by red rose heads had been placed in the centre of the white tablecloth.

  Scott ordered Kir royale aperitifs for them both while they looked at the menu. Once they’d given their orders and the large menus had been whisked away, Scott picked up his Kir and held it out for her to clink glasses. ‘Here’s to us,’ he said. ‘And to the future I hope we’ll have.’

  Fern gave him a tremulous smile. ‘To our future.’

  They chattered away like old friends over the course of the evening, when in fact they were new friends finding out about each other and liking what they learnt.

  After their main course was finished, steak for Scott and lamb for Fern, Scott took a small package out of his pocket and, placing it on the table, pushed it towards Fern.

  ‘I bought you something. I hope you like it and when you wear it, you’ll think of me while I’m away.’

  Fern’s fingers trembled as she opened the small box she found inside the package. When she saw the contents, she looked at Scott and laughed. ‘I love it. Thank you,’ and she took the silver pendant of a Scottish Highland terrier out of the box and fastened it around her neck. ‘Now I’ve got two Scotties.’

  Scott reached across the table and picked her hand up. ‘I will come back as soon as I can – you will wait, won’t you?’

  Fern felt her heart skip a beat as Scott looked deep into her eyes, almost willing her to answer. Did she like this man enough to do as he asked and wait for him to return? Deep down she already knew the answer.

  ‘Yes of course I will.’ As Fern smiled at him, she saw Scott give a deep sigh of relief.

  ‘Good. Now, have you thought any more about Belinda’s job offer?’

  ‘Making cakes and desserts for the campsite? I have to admit it’s the kind of thing I’d have jumped at years ago. I was surprised when Belinda suggested it though.’

  ‘I think you should take her up on the offer. It would keep you busy.’

  ‘I’ll definitely think about it,’ Fern said. ‘I do like that sort of cooking. In fact, I made a tiramisu this afternoon, just to take my mind off things.’

  ‘In that case I suggest I ask for the bill and we go home and sample it. Did I tell you I put a bottle of champagne in the fridge earlier?’

  ‘No you didn’t,’ Fern said, laughing. ‘Is that why you barely touched your aperitif and why I was the only one to have wine with our meal? You were saving yourself for later.’

  ‘That and the fact I never drink and drive. Come on. You can show me the way to go home.’

  Fern laughed.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘That reminded me of the old song my dad used to sing when he came home from the pub after too many beers.’

  ‘I wonder if it’s the same one I know? You can sing it for me in the car,’ Scott said.

  Once in the car, after Fern had given him the scenic-route directions and they were driving homewards, Scott glanced at her and started to hum the tune. Within minutes they were both laughing as Scott sang an American parody of the song, while Fern tried to stick to the words she knew.

  Half an hour later, after creeping into the house so as not to disturb Anouk, they were sitting on the auberge terrace, glasses of champagne on the table, two spoons and a dish of tiramisu between them. As she shared the dessert with Scott, Fern knew that the sense of connection between the two of them had deepened. It was a connection that she was beginning to want more from. Having agreed to wait for him she could only hope that Scott would fulfil his promise to return when he had sorted things in America.

  33

  Anouk was in the conservatory as Fern had said she would be. Belinda, about to call out ‘Hello’, stopped. The old lady was sat there, her eyes closed and her breathing slow, facing out over the garden. Belinda hesitated for a moment. As much as she longed to hear the truth about her parents, she didn’t want to upset Anouk by asking her to drag up memories from the past. She would have been newly married in the late fifties, talking about those times would surely remind her of her husband and her life then. Belinda could only pray that Anouk’s personal memories would be good ones because now she knew Anouk could tell her things about her parents, there was no way she couldn’t ask the questions that she desperately needed the answers to.

  ‘Anouk, I’m here,’ Belinda said softly, walking into the conservatory. ‘How are you this evening?’

  ‘Bonsoir,’ Anouk said, opening her eyes and smiling at Belinda. ‘Come and sit down. Fern has left us some nibbles and some wine in the kitchen. Do you want to fetch it or save it for later?’

  ‘Later,’ Belinda said. ‘I might need a drink after you’ve told me the truth about what you called the Belro
se scandal.’

  ‘I will tell you what I know but you must remember times were different back then.’

  Anouk regarded her shrewdly. ‘Do you really know rien – nothing – about your parents’ break-up?’

  Belinda shook her head. ‘Nothing. Mum would never talk to me about it and I never got the chance to ask Dad. Mum died three years ago, but it was only recently that I finally went through the last of her papers. When she was dying, she said sorry and told me to visit and lay the ghosts to rest. I had no idea what ghosts she was talking about.’ Belinda rubbed her face distractedly. ‘It was the final box of papers that really made me realise there were things I did not know about. There were certain things missing that should have been there. Like a marriage certificate and divorce papers.’

  Anouk nodded and sighed. ‘I went to your father’s wedding, you know.’

  ‘You did? So they were married, even though I didn’t find a marriage certificate.’ Belinda’s voice died away as Anouk shook her head.

  ‘Not his wedding to your mother – Jean, wasn’t it?’

  Belinda nodded miserably.

  ‘This was his first marriage. Helena Colbert was a local girl, in fact she’s a distant relation of mine through my father’s family. Younger than me, but we’d see each other at family get-togethers. Enzo and Helena grew up together and from an early age it was understood by everyone that they would end up marrying each other.’ Anouk sighed. ‘They were both so young, still teenagers. It was a beautiful day, Helena looked like a picture-book bride and Enzo couldn’t take his eyes off her. Three months later, Helena was pregnant.’

  Belinda caught her breath. Did that mean she had a sibling, or even siblings, somewhere?

  ‘The two of them were apparently giddy with excitement at the thought of being a family. Sadly, the child was stillborn.’ Anouk paused for a few seconds. ‘And the bubble that ’ad encased their love and their lives burst. Helena went to pieces and then one day she just disappeared. No one heard anything about her for years. Her parents were devastated. Blamed Enzo, of course. They died still not knowing where Helena was.’