Lewis spoke, his voice soothing. ‘I don’t know what to say to make it better for you, Bryony.’
‘You’re helping already. You’ve come on this crazy adventure with me and you’re doing a great job helping me to get people on board and look out for her. Now, I can’t sit here being maudlin. We have a town to reach and a clue to work out.’
Lewis put out his hand and helped her to her feet. They stood facing each other, the warm breeze caressing them. For the longest minute, he held her hand before pulling away.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
TUESDAY, 25 JULY – AFTERNOON
Lewis cheered her up with some light-hearted banter and a terrible joke. Bryony pulled such a comical face that he almost drove into the side of the road laughing at her expression. The mood changed again and each entertained the other with ridiculous jokes until, chuckling loudly, they arrived at Vannes.
‘Is that the bumblebee car near the gate?’ asked Bryony.
Lewis looked over and groaned. ‘There can’t be two cars with that design.’
‘And that’s the tabby car and that one over there looks like one belonging to another team,’ she added, pointing at one covered in stars.
‘How did they all get here so quickly?’
‘Must have worked out the clues before we did.’
They parked and searched for the crew at the gate Porte Saint-Vincent Ferrier that led into the well-preserved medieval streets of the walled town of Vannes.
‘It looks stunning. We really should stay on in France after this show and come back to explore these places more thoroughly,’ Lewis suggested. A smile tugged at Bryony’s lips. It was an appealing thought. Lewis caught sight of Nina standing with a television crew and nudged Bryony. ‘Cameras at two o’clock.’
‘Roger, I have eyes on them,’ Bryony replied and they hurried towards the crew. ‘Bryony! Lewis!’ yelled a high-pitched voice. Bryony turned and located Oscar waving his arms like a windmill. He beetled over to them, Biggie Smalls trotting by his side.
‘Wait till you see,’ he gushed. ‘I couldn’t believe it.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Bryony.
‘I know what he means,’ said Lewis, a dark cloud flitting over his face. A fair-haired man in tight black jeans and a short-sleeved Lacoste shirt with his back to them was doing a piece to the camera. He faced them and Bryony gasped.
Oscar was at Bryony’s elbow. ‘Isn’t this a surprise and a half? I’ll see you later. We’re going to grab a late lunch. I spotted you arriving and wanted to see your reaction. It was exactly the same as mine. I was speechless. I went all giggly and shy. Jim had to do all the talking. Must go. Have fun with the professor!’
Professor David Potts, the delicious host of Mate or Date, was in his thirties, fresh-faced and slim. He had an air of boyish enthusiasm as he pointed out various landmarks beyond the gate yet his dark-blue-framed glasses gave him a sense of gravitas. He turned in their direction. ‘And here come the other pair of contestants who have correctly guessed their clue. Welcome, Lewis and … Bryony,’ he said smoothly, taking her hand, flipping it and planting a kiss on the back of it. Bryony’s knees went weak; her mouth flapped open but she was unable to articulate any words.
‘So, you worked out that Vannes was the capital of the Morbihan,’ read Professor David from his autocue. ‘But did you also know the Place des Lices, which once hosted jousting tournaments, is now the venue of an open-air market on Tuesday and Saturday mornings? This is a truly beautiful town and we’re lucky to all be here on such a wonderful, sunny day.’
He looked away from the camera for a moment and frowned. ‘Can we change that last bit? It sounds too twee. Can we say, “This is a truly beautiful town and not to be missed if you come to Brittany?”’
‘Okay, Prof,’ replied the man behind a large microphone.
Another man stepped forward. ‘Take it from “So, you worked out that Vannes was the capital of the Morbihan.”’
Professor Potts spoke his lines once more. A crowd of tourists and visitors had gathered and was watching the filming with interest. Bryony had recovered a little. She could see Oscar, a sandwich in one hand and Biggie’s lead in the other. Obviously, Oscar was another fully paid-up member of the Professor David Potts fan club.
‘And I have a question for you. Are you ready, Bryony?’ he asked. She tried to drag her attention away from his sparkling blue eyes that seemed to be searching her thoughts. ‘What are the citizens of Vannes called?’
Bryony’s throat was dry. She could not concentrate for a second then the answer flashed into her mind.
‘They’re called “Vannetais”,’ she replied, wanting him to be pleased with her response.
‘Excellent! You certainly know your stuff, Bryony.’ Her insides turned to liquid at each mention of her name. He had a way of making her feel there was only the two of them in front of the gate. She smiled. He returned it and her stomach somersaulted once more.
‘Would you like your next clue?’ he asked, as if hoping she would say no and stay with him here, in this moment.
‘Yes,’ came a gruff reply next to her. She’d forgotten about Lewis. She’d been so enchanted by Professor Potts her mind had ceased to function.
Professor Potts ignored Lewis and pressed a card into Bryony’s hand. ‘I’m sure you’ll work out what the treasure is. And here’s the envelope containing the clue to your next destination. Good luck.’
Bryony took the card as if in a daze. ‘Thank you,’ she stammered.
‘And cut!’ shouted a man dressed in black.
Professor Potts turned away from her. ‘All okay?’ A voice in his ear responded. ‘Great. Time for lunch then,’ he added with a beaming grin. ‘Don’t suppose you fancy joining me for coffee at one of the cafés here, do you?’ he asked Bryony.
‘We need to get to our next destination,’ Lewis said through gritted teeth.
‘We’re allowed an hour for lunch,’ she reminded Lewis. ‘We can get a coffee and then eat our picnic. You were the one who said Vannes was a beautiful place to visit. We should see some of it before we move off.’
‘Yes, Lucas,’ continued Professor Potts. ‘You should visit some of it while you have the chance.’
Lewis threw him an angry look at this obvious attempt to rile him. ‘Bryony, remember why we’re doing this show,’ Lewis hissed in a low voice while Professor Potts removed his earpiece and prepared to leave.
‘But this is Professor David Potts! I know women who’d kill me to go to lunch with him.’
‘He’s no one special,’ Lewis covered up his microphone with a one hand and whispered, microphone. ‘He’s only a presenter. You and I need to work out the clue and get to the next destination if we’re in with a chance to win this competition.’
Bryony bit at her bottom lip. She could imagine what Melinda would tell her to do. Lunch with Professor Potts might lead to something special. She wrestled with her conscience. She was in a quandary, thrown out by the arrival of the delectable Professor Potts. Lewis had been good enough to come on this game show and she acknowledged she had feelings for him too. However, she was unsure if there would ever be anything deeper between them, especially as Lewis was still hurting over Maxwell. She concluded that even if their relationship was platonic, Lewis had supported her wholeheartedly and she owed it to him to stick to the agenda.
Bryony sighed. ‘Thank you for your kind invitation, and coffee would be lovely, but we really must get going.’
Professor Potts took her hand again, sending another shiver through her body. ‘My loss,’ he murmured. ‘Next time,’ he added. ‘Don’t let me down twice.’
Nina hurried up to him. ‘Roland wants to do the piece to camera again, if you don’t mind.’
Professor Potts shrugged. ‘Whatever Roland wants. But let’s get it right this time. I haven’t got all day.’
He released Bryony’s hand. ‘Good luck, sweet Bryony. See you tonight at the live event.’
* * *
>
‘Did he flirt with me or was I dreaming?’ Bryony asked as they returned to their car.
‘He flirted with you. He has a reputation for it,’ said Lewis darkly, opening the car door, clambering in and slamming it shut. ‘What’s our next clue?’ he asked in a flat tone.
‘What about lunch? Our picnic?’
‘I’m not hungry. Come on, let’s get this hunt over with.’
Bryony detected a distinct shift in mood and decided to leave Lewis to sulk. He was probably cheesed off that he was not the object of her attention any longer. Men!
‘The clue for the treasure reads, “Head back in time to the stone age and take a photograph to prove you have visited this site.”’
Lewis pulled out the map. ‘Check the file while I look at this.’
Bryony skimmed through the sheets. The atmosphere was less light-hearted than before and she could not work out what had changed.
‘Carnac.’ She read, ‘“It is the site of more than three thousand prehistoric stone monuments.”’
‘Then that’s where we’re headed.’ He worked out the best and fastest route to the new destination. After a few minutes of silence, he raised his eyes to her. An apology rose in his throat, halted by the cool regard she gave him. ‘If you’re hungry, get something out of the hamper now and we’ll eat it as we drive,’ he said, hoping to ease the tension.
‘No, I’m okay. I seem to have lost my appetite,’ she retorted, wondering if they would still be friends by the end of the day.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
TUESDAY, 25 JULY – EVENING
In spite of the coastal views, stunning scenery and agreeable drive, both lapsed into silence as tiredness and frustration replaced eagerness and fun. It was only once they reached Concarneau and collected a Breton cake as a treasure that the sour atmosphere altered.
‘It’s called Kouign-amann,’ Bryony explained to a somewhat sullen Lewis, ‘and it is a specialty of the area made of bread dough, layers of butter and sugar. Try a piece. It might cheer you up. It might even make you smile a little bit,’ she continued, wafting the cake in front of his nose until a small smile cracked his face.
Lewis’s mood lifted and he insisted they stop for some coffee and to enjoy the picnic before heading to Quimper. They removed the mike packs again, found a spot off the main road and set up camp beside a field of golden sunflowers.
Lewis immediately drained a bottle of water and then wolfed down a ham-filled baguette. After a moment he spoke. ‘I ought to apologize.’
Bryony had decided she didn’t like falling out with Lewis. It was far more enjoyable when they were friends and the atmosphere lighter. She wasn’t one to hold a grudge or be off with anyone for long. Whatever had upset him had passed. ‘We all have our moments. I had mine yesterday. Want to tell me what upset you? Was it me?’
Lewis pushed his sunglasses back onto his forehead and fixed her with a forlorn look. ‘Gosh, no! Well, sort of. It’s complicated,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I can’t tell you in the car because the damn camera is on us all the time and we haven’t got sufficient time now so I’ll have to explain later.’
She chewed thoughtfully on a piece of cheese. ‘No problem,’ she replied. ‘Isn’t this fabulous? Sunshine, countryside and not a soul around apart from us.’
‘It’s superb. Can you hear that?’
She cocked her head and located the low humming of hundreds of bees. ‘Bliss!’
‘You know, I think after this experience, I almost could be tempted to move to France and buy a vineyard after all. It’s a world apart from our own hectic lives. It’s serene, filled with bounteous nature, few people and wonderful roads to drive along for mile after mile.’
‘Or kilometre after kilometre,’ she said with a laugh, glad that their relationship was back on an even keel. ‘Seriously, it would be wonderful. I can see you settling here and tending to your vines, then popping into town for a small aperitif before a lunch of cheese and fresh bread. Can’t think of anything nicer at the moment.’
He sat quietly, reclining on his elbows, sunglasses perched on top of his head, and his eyes closed. Bryony decided the French way of life would suit him. This trip might be the catalyst he required to kick-start a new life. The moment passed and with a sigh, she stood preparing to continue their journey and leave behind this idyll.
The final legs of the journey were not filled with the same tension they’d experienced at Vannes but when Bryony requested a stop on two more occasions to stretch her legs, there were no more moments of intimacy. By late afternoon they reached Rennes, the capital of Brittany and their final destination, somewhat exhausted. Fortunately, the crew was on hand to provide sufficient enthusiasm for the final shots and within minutes, amidst noisy cheers from those involved in the filming, the black and yellow car came into view and drew to a rapid halt outside the Palais Saint-Georges, a medieval abbey now housing city offices.
‘You beat us!’ Oscar cried, leaping over to congratulate the pair. Biggie snuffled around Lewis’s ankles with renewed interest.
Lewis bent to pat the animal. ‘Hello, Biggie boy. How did you enjoy your trip?’
‘He slept through the majority of it, the philistine. How many dogs get to go on a cultural journey around Brittany? He spent most of it on his back zonked out. How about you?’
‘It was interesting and tiring,’ Bryony replied.
‘What about Professor David Potts?’ Oscar babbled. ‘I couldn’t believe he was at Vannes. I thought he might be one of those lookalikes until he spoke. He’s got one of those dreamy voices, hasn’t he? My mum thinks he’s cute. Mind you, she thinks everyone under the age of forty is adorable. I think he’s dead hunky and yet sensitive and charming. No wonder he’s on the list of the UK’s top ten sexiest men. I got my photograph taken with him and so did Biggie. Biggie’s his latest fan. See, the man is a god. Even my dog loves him.’
Lewis muttered something unintelligible and stormed off in the direction of the abbey.
Bryony watched him depart then decided to join him. ‘I think Lewis needs to stretch his legs and so do I. We’ll be back in a moment.’
She caught up with Lewis, who was studying the building, arms stiff by his sides.
‘Come on, let’s walk and talk.’ She took his arm and guided him into the palace gardens, strolling past wide beds of geraniums and marigolds and along the path before stopping in front of a wooden bench where they both sat.
‘It’s Potts. Potts is the problem,’ he said at last.
‘Why?’
Lewis sucked in a long breath, tipping his head back as he searched for the words to explain. ‘He’s the reason Maxwell and I split up.’
Bryony digested this information and chose to remain quiet while he clearly struggled with his emotions.
‘Maxwell had an affair with him,’ he suddenly blurted out. ‘She was working on one of his programmes and like every female I’ve ever known, she fell for his smooth patter. He is ridiculously charming, isn’t he? All that hand kissing and holding your gaze, making you feel you’re the most important woman in the universe. And he’s got that easy Irish charm. Women love that – looks, charm and intelligence. It’s a heady mixture. Maxwell was like an over-excited puppy the day she found out she’d be working on the show with him. I humoured her. At that point I wasn’t jealous in the slightest. I honestly believed our relationship was solid. I didn’t have any reason to think she’d be bowled over by Professor clever-arse Potts.’ He spat out the words and clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing.
‘I shouldn’t have been so bloody complacent. There I was, parked at home dressed in trackpants every day, tapping away at a keyboard, thinking everything was ideal in my world. Meanwhile, Maxwell was falling head over heels for a suave, good-looking dude. I should have anticipated it. I should have made some effort before she jumped into bed with him.’
He shut his eyes and continued speaking. ‘I let myself go. It’s easy to do when you’re happy in a relat
ionship. You don’t notice it to start with – a few pounds here, a few pounds there. Then one day, you’ve put on a stone. You tell yourself you’ll make an effort to lose it but you don’t. Work gets in the way and you go out almost every weekend and drink and eat all sorts of crap. Then you buy clothes in larger sizes and convince yourself it doesn’t matter because you think you’ll lose it when you finish your next project. Of course, you don’t because you’ve been eating takeaways while your girlfriend is out at night, and when you do get time off you don’t feel like jogging or going to the gym. Besides, you don’t want anyone to laugh at you at the gym. You’ll be the fat bloke while everyone else will be pumping weights and showing off six packs.’ He paused, opened his eyes and gave a sharp laugh before shaking his head.
‘So, there I was, an eighteen-stone idiot. I didn’t imagine Maxwell would have an affair, let alone with someone like Potts. I was a fool. She is beautiful. I knew that. Of course other men are going to find her attractive. I believed she was as happy with our relationship as I was. I didn’t suspect for a minute she would give up on me and everything we had – our home, our life, our future.’
He dropped his head into his hands. Bryony felt helpless. She wanted to comfort him yet he had now erected an invisible shield. He still loved Maxwell. That much was obvious. She toyed with the idea of putting an arm around him but he raised his head and with a weary sigh said, ‘I walked out the day she told me about the affair. I didn’t argue. I didn’t fight for her. I didn’t stand up like a real man. I skulked off like a kicked dog. I ought to have convinced her to give us another chance but I didn’t. My own self-worth was at a low. I helped cause the breakup. She would never have had an affair if I’d been more attentive to her, to our relationship, and been in better physical shape, or just simply shown her how much I cared about her. I was as much to blame as she was.’
‘No, Lewis. I understand you might feel that way but you’re wrong. No one deserves to be cheated on.’
What Happens in France Page 17
