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A Year at the French Farmhouse(103)

Author:Gillian Harvey

‘Bye, darling! Come again soon!’ Lily called after him.

Ty lifted his hand in acknowledgement, but didn’t turn around. Lily turned to Frédérique, exasperated.

But his face was so wide-eyed and hopeful and expectant and innocent that she didn’t have the heart to crush him. And there wouldn’t be much point in any case – the damage to Tyler’s imagination was no doubt already done. She would have to explain, gently to Frédérique that ‘lovers’ wasn’t a term they used quite so much in English normally. That it was too… graphic somehow. Especially when speaking about someone’s mother.

‘And now, I ’ave you to myself,’ he said, with a smile. ‘I am a lucky man, eh?’

‘Right,’ she said.

She followed him back to his car and plonked herself in the passenger seat, grateful, now the exhaustion of the last few days was catching up on her, that she didn’t have to seek out the train station.

But despite appreciating the lift, she knew she’d have to find a way to slow things down with Frédérique. She needed time to think, to process the news about Ben; to concentrate, too, on the house; on the business to complete seemingly endless paperwork. She didn’t want to end things – if they could really be described as having begun – but keep him at arm’s length, just for a while. Just until she knew what she wanted.

‘Per’aps we stop pour d?ner?’ he suggested as they drove back towards the city centre. ‘I know a restaurant – you will love it.’

She nodded. ‘Yes, I think it would be good. To be honest, Frédérique. I think we need to talk.’

In any of her past relationships, uttering those words would be a heads-up to the other person that what came next might not be exactly what they wanted to hear.

But Frédérique, unused to the subtle undertone, smiled at her.

‘It will be a pleasure,’ he said.

30

‘Thanks for popping over,’ Lily said, adding a drop of milk to the mug of tea she was making and squeezing the bag a little too enthusiastically. ‘Sorry, hope you like it strong.’

‘Thanks for inviting me.’ Sam grinned, taking the mug from Lily’s hands and gulping down at least half. ‘God, I needed that.’

‘It’s just nice to actually drink tea with someone again,’ joked Lily. ‘I mean, I like coffee, but…’

‘I know. My first month here, I didn’t sleep a wink.’ Sam grinned. ‘It took me that long to work out not to just order coffee, but to be more specific.’

‘Too much espresso?’

‘Yep. Plays havoc with my bowels too.’

‘Thanks for sharing.’

They watched through the window as Derek and Claudine rushed around the garden, jumping on the hundreds of molehills that seemed to have popped up overnight. As they watched, Claudine picked up a couple of handfuls of earth and began to pursue Derek with it.

‘Uh-oh,’ said Lily. ‘Shall we go out there?’

‘Oh, in a minute,’ her friend replied. ‘It won’t hurt him to get a taste of his own medicine for once.’

‘You’re the boss,’ Lily replied, watching Derek brushing earth out of his hair and turning to chase his sister for revenge. He raced off, laughing, towards the bushes.

‘Can I ask,’ Lily said, ‘why Derek and Claudine? They seem such…’

‘Different names?’

‘Well, yes.’

Sam laughed. ‘Very British and very French – we basically took turns to name the kids and it turned out this way. Still, even “Derek” sounds very continental when Gabriel says it. Sort of “Derique”.’

Lily laughed.

‘So, you think Frédérique took it OK?’ Sam asked, seemingly unaware or unperturbed by the escalating fight happening between her offspring.

Lily shrugged. ‘He seemed to,’ she said. ‘I mean, actually he seemed to take it really, really well.’

‘Well, that’s good, I guess?’

‘Maybe.’ Lily shrugged.

‘Oh?’

‘Well, he was so OK about it that I began to wonder whether he’d misunderstood me – my French is still terrible, so we rely on his English most of the time and it’s hard to know whether I’ve been clear enough sometimes.’

‘Ah, bit awkward then?’

‘Yes, and then I began to wonder whether, if he did understand what I’d said, I should feel insulted that he didn’t seem a little more bothered.’