Before she could say anything else, Chris appeared in front of her. ‘Well, thank you,’ he said. ‘See you at the completion.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
‘No questions before I rush off? I’m afraid I’m rather booked up today.’
‘No, it’s fine.’ She smiled.
‘OK. Well, nice to meet you,’ he said. She noticed a line of sweat beading on his forehead. ‘I’d better…’
‘Yes, that’s fine.’
‘Right. Goodbye, then.’ He disappeared, half running towards a Renault Clio before clambering inside, his too-tight trousers revealing a cheeky glimpse of buttock as he climbed into the driver’s seat.
Left alone for a second, she suddenly felt quite tearful. The transaction, even with Frédérique green-lighting it through the local council, might take up to eight weeks or even more. Eight weeks in which she’d thought she’d be in the property, doing it up. Starting a new life. Eight weeks when instead she might find herself having to rent or stay with Chloé, which although wonderful would be expensive in the longer term.
It wasn’t as if she could go home though, was it? She had every right to live in the house in the UK that had her name on the paperwork. But she couldn’t make a dramatic exit then scuttle back for an eight-week wait. She’d have to find another way, if only to save her pride.
She had only been here a couple of days and already she’d started to feel as if the puzzle pieces of her life were falling into place. But suddenly, standing in the unfamiliar hamlet, fifteen miles from the B. & B., twenty from the property she’d committed to buy and at least five hundred from everything normal and familiar in her life, she felt suddenly and completely alone.
10
‘Do you want me to come weeth you to see la maison?’ Frédérique said, appearing beside her, an enormous set of keys jangling in his hand.
‘Sorry?’ she said, turning to face him and trying to smile. She could feel her mouth wobble slightly with emotion and hoped it wasn’t too obvious that she was on the verge of tears.
He peered more closely at her, and for a moment she wondered whether she had a stray facial hair she needed to whip out with the tweezers. Then, ‘Are you all right?’ he asked, his brow furrowed with concern. ‘Pleurez-vous? You are… raining? Your eyes?’
‘Oh. No. Non, je suis… je suis bien,’ she said, forcing out even more of a smile. ‘I am fine.’
‘Je vais bien,’ he corrected.
‘Sorry?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Are you sure you are all right, Madame Buttercup?’
She didn’t bother to correct him. ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine. Bien. I just… buying the house, doing all this. It’s a bit overwhelming.’
‘Ov-er-whelming?’ he said, slowly.
‘Oh. Um, it’s… c’est trop pour moi… um… parfois,’ she said, desperately reaching for the right words. It’s too much.
He nodded. ‘The new ’ouse? It eez… you are scared?’
‘Yes. Scared. Sort of, anyway. It’s just, I’m on my own and… well, it seems…’
‘Do you want not to buy it, per’aps?’ he said, putting a hand on her arm. She looked up and saw his eyes clouded with concern. ‘It eez not too late. The notaire, Monsieur Berger, ’e iz mon ami, my friend? If you have made a mistake, we can rip.’ He mimed ripping up paperwork. ‘The ink is not dry, huh?’ He smiled. ‘It eez not a problème.’
‘No, no. It’s not that,’ she said, shaking her head and looking away. It was something about his smile – the friendliness and openness of it – seeing someone smile at her like that when she felt so alone might actually break her. ‘I want the house, it’s just…’ She trailed off. How much detail of her life did she actually want to share with this stranger? She decided to keep any thoughts about Ben close to her chest, but said: ‘I suppose I was hoping I would be able to live there now; I didn’t realise it would take so long for it to be mine.’
He nodded, understanding. ‘But you can move in, eh?’ he said. ‘There izz no one living in de ’ouse. It izz empty!’
‘But it isn’t mine? I haven’t… the paperwork.’
He shrugged. ‘In France, it ’appen sometimes. You can move in, if you want? After all, I am zee owner and I say it’s OK!’ he said, smiling. ‘You can start today, if you want? The water, he is still turned on. And I can telephone for the électricité if you want?’