What Happens in France

by What Happens in France (retail) (epub)

  ‘Not yet, I came straight here.’

  ‘Wait until you see what’s been happening. There’ve been YouTube clips and tweets about the show and the contestants. It’s mental. There have even been articles in the national newspapers about you all and you got an extra mention because of looking for Hannah. I’m surprised you haven’t been mobbed on your way here. It seems everyone online is looking for Hannah. Hashtag #SearchforHannah even trended on Twitter after Oscar mentioned it during his interview. You need to write a post for the blog cos people will probably go and look at it once the final results are announced tomorrow. It might be your last chance to get so many people interested now the show is almost over.’ She cocked her head. ‘I know. I’m talking too fast and giving you no time to digest it all. I’ll shut up.’

  ‘No. It’s just – amazing,’ said Bryony, tears springing to her eyes. ‘I should go home and see if Hannah has tried to contact me.’

  ‘You should but you look done in and you can’t leave here until you’ve told me all about it. Come on, dish the goss.’

  Half an hour later, Melinda was looking as confused and glum as her friend actually felt. ‘So, let me get this straight: you flew in a private jet, made new friends, stayed in a remarkable château, drove about the French countryside having a good giggle, lost the quiz to two people you really liked and had dinner with the delicious, I-wouldn’t-kick-him-out-of-bed Professor Potts. I understand full well I’m an ex-policewoman who possesses extraordinary skills when it comes to detective work but even an idiot can see you are unhappy about something. You don’t fool me with your phoney enthusiasm,’ she remarked, leaning back in her chair to better study her friend’s reaction.

  Bryony gave a deep sigh. ‘I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide anything from you. You’re like one of those sniffer dogs.’

  Melinda pulled a face. ‘That’ll be my large nose that can snuffle out trouble.’

  ‘Hardly. It’s not large at all. You have great instinct.’ Bryony shoulders slumped. ‘Lewis has returned to his girlfriend. He’s gone back to London to make up and start again.’

  ‘Girlfriend? I thought he lived with Maxwell. Isn’t that a man’s name?’

  ‘It turns out Maxwell can be a girl’s name too. She was the person who cheered him with a personal message like you did for me.’

  ‘That was Maxwell!’ Melinda’s mouth dropped wide open for a second. ‘Oh fuck! I wondered who she was. Sean and I thought she was some relative or just a good friend. Shit, she’s a real hottie.’

  ‘That was his Maxwell, a woman that meant so much to him that even after she dumped him, wrecked his life and broke his heart, he took her back.’

  Melinda’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve slept with him, haven’t you? Years of experience and I can spot the things that are left unsaid. Besides, you have that injured look in your eyes.’

  ‘I did sleep with him. It was wonderful and I thought I’d found my prince at last but I’m still plain, old, scar-faced, wonky-hipped Bryony, not a princess. Nor am I a glamorous television researcher who has the power to twist any man around my finger. Maxwell has convinced him with only one email and a telephone call to race back into her arms. He flew off to London immediately after the recording rather than catch the jet back with the rest of us.’

  ‘How did she contact him? I thought you were all banned from using phones and if anyone wanted to contact you we had to use an emergency number.’

  ‘He must have given her the number. He accessed his emails one evening and I suppose he replied to the one Maxwell sent. She phoned immediately before the final recording. Her timing couldn’t have been worse. It took the edge off the whole experience and, well, you know.’

  Melinda reached out her hand and squeezed Bryony’s. ‘That sucks but look at it this way: you had a great time together and I’ve no doubt you had plenty of laughs too. From what you’ve told me it was a once-in-a-lifetime event. You got to race about Brittany in a proper French car, stay in a château of all places, be on television and you met the wonderful Professor David Potts.’

  ‘I’m about to pop that particular bubble too. Firstly, the professor’s not as good-looking as you might think – layers of make-up help make him look healthy and handsome. Secondly, he’s a bit smarmy and even rude at times. And thirdly, he isn’t one bit funny. And from what I gathered, he’s definitely not the sort of person you’d want to get involved with.’

  ‘No! That can’t be. You’ve shattered my illusions.’

  ‘Good thing you hadn’t made any plans to abandon Sean and run off with Professor Potts then.’

  ‘I’ll go unpack my bag immediately,’ Melinda said, chuckling. ‘You want another glass of wine?’

  ‘Thanks, but no thanks. I’d better get off. I came here directly from being dropped off at home. I needed to get it all off my chest.’

  ‘I’m glad you did. For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t worry about Lewis. You’ve got friends, a great job and family. You’re better off without him. It’s his loss and I hope Maxwell pisses him about again. Nobody gets to hurt my friend like that. I feel totally responsible for this. I introduced you to him and encouraged you to go on the show with him.’

  ‘You didn’t make me sleep with him.’

  ‘No, but it’s still a shame. Bloody Lewis! Wait until I see him again. He doesn’t get to mess with my bestie’s feelings like that. Look, forget about him for now. I know that’s easier said than done but you ought to see if anyone has contacted you about Hannah. That’s far more important.’ She paused to slug her wine then spoke again.

  ‘I’m going to say this, because you’re my friend and I think you need to hear it. I don’t want to upset you but if nothing comes of this, you’re going to have to accept you probably won’t find her. I don’t mean to be cruel but I’m starting to worry you’re becoming consumed with this quest to find Hannah for your father’s sake. Don’t let it take over. How about you come over one night in the week? Sean’s going to be away again and Freddie goes to bed at seven on a weekday. We can watch a film, eat crap, get drunk and gossip about things like we did in the old days when we shared the flat.’

  Bryony decided that an evening together might be the medicine she needed to help get over Lewis. ‘Thanks. I’d love to come over. Now I’d better go. I need to lick my wounds and unpack my bag, and I should phone Mum to let her know how I got on.’

  ‘She’s been watching the show. I spoke to her yesterday. She’s so proud of you, Bryony. It doesn’t matter about winning or losing. We all know why you did this and you couldn’t have asked for a better platform for telling everyone about Hannah. I’d wear sunglasses when you go to the shops tomorrow. People will be clammering for your autograph.’ She beamed again. ‘Your face when Lewis was thrown from the inflatable bull. It was a picture. You’ll have to watch the show.’

  ‘Maybe when I feel up to it.’

  ‘Come and watch the last episode with us tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe I’ll do that.’ Her words felt hollow. She wasn’t sure she could watch her and Lewis together on screen.

  Melinda embraced her friend. ‘Get some sleep and replenish your energy levels and forget all about Lewis. Treat it as a one-off fun affair. There are plenty more fish in the sea.’

  ‘Always the voice of reason,’ Bryony replied with a tired smile.

  CHAPTER FORTY TWO

  SUNDAY, 30 JULY – AFTERNOON

  Sat in front of her laptop, Bryony pulled up her blog on the screen. Back in her apartment with familiar surroundings and after a long night’s sleep, the trip to France seemed to have been no more than a poignant dream.

  Although she had a huge number of emails, none were from Hannah or anyone who knew her sister. Most were congratulatory ones from friends and work colleagues and one from her friend, Tim, who invited her to bring Lewis along to the holiday cottage he was renting. Melinda had been right about the online interest in her search for her sister. Typing Hannah’s name into the search e
ngine, she found hundreds of tweets and video clips. There were stills of Bryony, taken from the television programme along with captions, stating she was searching for Hannah and asking if anyone had seen her. She was impressed by the number of people involved but no one had located her sister. It had been a fruitless exercise.

  Lewis’s idea about using the power of social media was a decent one. She’d have liked his help to get it right – it was his field of expertise after all – but given he was no longer around, she’d have to tackle it alone. It wasn’t beyond her if she set her mind to it. Maybe now she’d been on television people would follow her online and share the news. She’d ask Oscar to tweet to Biggie Small’s followers. The more she considered the idea, the more she felt she could manage it without Lewis. She had, after all, created a blog without too much assistance other than from Melinda.

  She’d been occupied all day, setting up Twitter and Instagram accounts and redoing the page on Facebook for Hannah, loading pictures of her and her sister and a contact email address. Finally, she turned her attention to her blog and put together a positive post that told of Oscar, Jim and Lewis while avoiding the truth of her relationship with Lewis and the heartache that had ensued.

  Once she had posted her tale of What Happens in…, she read over the introduction to her blog:

  My sister Hannah left home at the age of sixteen never to be seen again. She left a goodbye note and took a small bag of clothes with her so I can only assume she wanted to leave us.

  She left shattered lives, broken hearts and sadness in the wake of her departure. Tears, too many, have been shed time and time again. We tried to find her but she remained and still remains hidden, unable or unwilling to return to us.

  I carry the burden of guilt with me because I know I was to blame for Hannah leaving. Even now I cannot forgive myself for causing her so much misery that she felt her only option was to run away.

  Hannah, if you read this, please find it in your heart to contact me using the address on this blog. We all miss you so much. More than you can ever know. There isn’t a birthday or occasion that passes without tears as you are not with us. Dad is most unwell and calls out for you daily. To see him and our mother suffer all over again is tearing me apart. Please, Hannah, I beg you. Please come home.

  Your loving sister,

  Bryony

  A quiet voice that sounded exactly like her mother’s, whispered ominously that she was merely chasing shadows. Bryony reprimanded it. She either needed to be more proactive in this hunt for Hannah or, as Melinda had suggested, she ought to finally let go of the past.

  The final show was due to be broadcast in less than an hour. She picked up a book and settled down with it. There was no way she was going to turn on the television. Watching herself and Lewis on screen together would be too much for her to bear.

  CHAPTER FORTY THREE

  MONDAY, 31 JULY – MORNING

  ‘So, can you make 5 p.m.?’ The voice was assured.

  ‘Yes. 5 p.m. I’ll be there.’

  ‘That’s terrific. Look forward to meeting you.’

  Bryony sat up in bed. It was quarter past eight and she hadn’t been in the mood to get up and hang about the house alone. The day was bright but she’d felt downhearted. Post-competition blues? Or more likely she was suffering from post-Lewis blues. The call from the television studio had chased all that away. ITV wanted her to appear on an aftershow with her fellow teammates to discuss what really happened behind the scenes in France.

  They’d be able to chat in depth about their reasons for being on the show and what they’d got from it. There was huge public interest following the last episode shown the evening before, and the production company had decided to capitalise on the sensation of What Happens in… and arrange for the four finalists to be interviewed together. It would be one last chance to talk about her long-lost sister and she was going to grab it.

  The only fly in the ointment was Lewis. The studio had rung and left a message but not heard back from him. They might have to do the interview without him, but Bryony knew from what she’d read online that many people would tune in just to see him. He, like the others in the teams, had won over thousands of people who wanted to know everything about him.

  She jumped from her bed, threw on a loose top and jeans, scrubbed her teeth and pulled back her hair. Catching sight of her reflection, she wondered if Hannah looked at all like her. Certainly as children they had little in common other than the same colour hair, delicate nose and calm, grey eyes. She wondered idly if Hannah’s hair was still golden-blonde or if, like her own, it had darkened over the years.

  * * *

  Melinda opened the door before she rang the bell. Bryony grabbed her by the hand and hustled her into the kitchen.

  ‘You’ll never guess what’s happened.’

  ‘They’ve signed you up to be the face of a famous cosmetics company? You’re going to host the Royal Variety Performance this year? Ed Sheeran has written a song about you entitled Brainy Bryony, a Girl in France? Am I close yet?’ She dropped onto a kitchen stool.

  ‘Funny! I’ve been invited to Birmingham for an aftershow this evening. All the finalists are going to get the chance to chat about the show – the highs, the lows, and I’ll be able to speak about Hannah again. I’m going to take photographs along and all my new social media links.’

  ‘That’s incredible. Good for you. I told you there’d been a crazed interest in the show. Is Lewis going?’

  ‘I don’t know. They hadn’t managed to get hold of him when I spoke to the producer.’

  ‘Really? He’s back. His car’s outside his house. Why don’t you nip round, find out, see how he got on with Maxwell and make up with him?’

  ‘There’s little point in being friends if he’s going to leave the area and move back in with Maxwell.’

  ‘At least there’d be no bad feelings between you. If he goes on the show this evening, you need to be able to spark off each other like you did during the challenges. That’s what the public want to see. You’ll lose sympathy if you freeze him out. You need them on your side.’

  ‘Sorry, I can’t be false. I’ll be civil but I’d rather put what happened between us behind me. He made his choice. I’d better ring Mum and tell her. I had planned to visit her and Dad later. I’ll have to put it off now.’

  She made to leave. Melinda scooted off her chair and accompanied her friend to the door. ‘I’ll be watching. Is it live?’

  ‘Going out at 6 p.m. We have to be there at an hour before.’

  ‘I’ll spread the word and… break a leg!’

  They hugged and then Bryony strolled back towards her car parked on the road near the house. As she did so, she spotted a figure racing from the opposite direction. She quickened her pace, hoping to reach the car before he caught up with her but Lewis sprinted quickly and drawing to a halt in front of her, seized her arm.

  ‘Bryony, I have to talk to you. Don’t go. It’s important.’

  She let out a sigh. ‘Lewis, look, it’s okay. I get it. What we had was a holiday fling and Maxwell has come back into your life and—’

  ‘For goodness sake! Maxwell is not in my life. You are. You most definitely are.’

  Bryony’s brain could not fully process the meaning of his words but a burst of adrenaline coursed through her veins. She took a sharp intake of air and her hands began to shake.

  ‘Maxwell was never going to worm her way back into my affections. Not after you. You and me, well, we’re close.’ He spoke the last word in such a way that Bryony felt a surge of elation course through her body.

  ‘Are we?’

  ‘Of course, we are,’ he replied, pulling her towards him in a tight embrace and kissing her full on the lips. Reluctantly he released her.

  ‘Maxwell…’ she began.

  ‘Maxwell is sulking and throwing tantrums and behaving like a spoilt child but she’ll survive.’

  ‘You didn’t go back to her?’

 
‘Why would I do that now I’ve found you?’ he asked, caressing her cheek with his fingers. ‘Maxwell tracked me down through her contacts. She discovered I was on the game show with Potts and after doing that piece to camera at the live event, she wheedled the emergency number out of one of the film crew. She knows me too well. She worked out that no matter what had happened between us, I’d stand up for her, especially against Potts. She was incredibly upset with him. The bastard not only split up with her because he thought she might be expecting a child – it was a false alarm – but he also put out the word that she was clingy, self-centred and destructive, and thanks to him she was dropped from a new show she was working on.’ He held Bryony’s gaze. ‘She may have her faults but she didn’t deserve to be treated so badly. That callous pig told her there was no way he was having children and she could do what she liked but he’d have no part of it. I’m afraid I went off the deep end. I’m sorry for almost thumping Potts. If you hadn’t been there I don’t know how much damage I’d have inflicted on that shit. I planned on giving him a broken nose at the very least. You must think I’m a complete thug.’ He shrugged an apology. She shook her head at him.

  ‘After the telephone call, I had to see her in person. Maxwell was in a terrible state, tearful, talking seriously about taking her own life. She came out with all that “I should never have been so stupid to let you go” nonsense. I’d have explained if I’d had a chance but you walked off and I couldn’t find you anywhere, then Roxanne suddenly hustled me into a taxi which was at the back door before I got a chance to speak to you. It all happened so quickly. I went to London to set the record straight and tell Maxwell, face to face, that I was seeing somebody I really, really liked. She isn’t one to give in easily so it was best she could understand how much I’ve changed and see how happy I’ve become. With Maxwell, seeing is believing. We talked for an age. We worked things out. She understands she and I will never get back together and once the flat sells she’ll move into another one with a friend – a girlfriend. I returned really late last night. I rang your mobile a while ago but there was no reply, then I spotted your car. I’ve been hanging about, twitching the front curtains waiting for you to emerge. I can’t begin to tell you what you mean to me, Bryony, but I hope you’ll let me show you. In a short space of time you have literally spun me around 360 degrees and I don’t want to be with anyone other than you. It’s up to you now. You need to decide how you feel. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere – well, not without you. But I want one thing before you make a decision.’