‘I just wanted to get it over with,’ she’d explained. ‘Didn’t want him going through all the stress if there was nothing to get stressed about.’
‘So you took it all on yourself.’
‘Yes.’
‘Which, as it turns out, wasn’t the best idea.’
‘No.’ Emily had told her how she’d argued with Chris the night before she’d flown to France. ‘He knew something was wrong,’ Emily had said, ‘but by that time it seemed almost worse to admit that I’d kept it all from him. So I came here to get my mind off things.’
‘But you couldn’t…?’
‘Turns out, my mind is pretty focused when it comes to people snipping samples off my body for analysis and then taking an inordinate amount of time to produce the results.’
‘Well, yes, I can imagine. And drinking the stress away didn’t exactly work out.’
‘Not really.’
‘Oh, Emily, you’re such an idiot.’ Lily had said, leaning forward and gathering her still alcohol-breathed friend into her arms. ‘You should have told me sooner.’
‘I know.’
Lily had pulled free of the hug and had taken her friend firmly by her upper arms, looking into her eyes. ‘Well look. You’ve told me now. And whatever comes next, I’m here.’
‘Thank you,’ Emily had said. ‘Sorry. I thought I was stronger than this.’
‘It’s not about being strong, Em. You’re the strongest woman I know…’
‘Coming from you, that’s an enormous compliment.’
‘Is that a joke?’ Lily had said. ‘You know as well as I do that I’m a complete and utter mess half the time.’
‘No, for once, sweetheart, I am not joking. You are one formidable woman.’
‘Oh.’
‘Well, how much strength does it take to walk away from your husband, move to another country and start some sort of brand-new life?’
‘Try not to confuse strength with being completely and utterly mad.’
‘Ha. Well, there is that.’
‘Anyway, OK, let’s change the subject,’ Lily said now, pushing an interiors magazine across the table. ‘I was thinking dove grey for the hallway – what do you reckon?’
‘It’s a bit… well, grey.’
‘Well, grey does tend to come up a bit on the grey side.’
‘It’s quite a loir colour, isn’t it?’
‘That,’ said Lily, crossing her pen through the colour swatch, ‘is a very good point.’
‘Well, look. How about we go for a walk, or something. Up at the lake? Check out how that French mayor guy is doing ridding your house of vermin on the way?’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
‘Great. I’ll go and de-hangover in the shower, and then…?’
‘Perfect,’ Lily said.
Emily left the breakfast room, her feet tapping on the hall tiles then coming to an abrupt halt.
‘Bonjour, Madame,’ came a familiar voice.
‘Bonjour,’ Lily heard Emily reply.
Then there was the sound of two sets of footsteps, one heading away, the other drawing nearer. The door swung more fully open to reveal Frédérique, his face and hands peppered with small red wounds.
‘’ello?’ he said. ‘Ah, Madame Buttercup!’ His smile was wide, despite his evidently sore face.
‘Oh my god,’ Lily said, turning to him and forgetting to even try to speak French. ‘What happened to you?’
‘These little ‘mignon’ loir, they are not so sweet when you try to catch them, uh?’ he said, with a shrug as if it didn’t matter he’d clearly been set upon by a family of rodents. ‘And then when you try also to release them, he is even more angry, I think.’
‘I’m so sorry!’ Lily stood up, hand over her mouth. ‘I didn’t realise they could be so… well, vicious.’
‘De rien, you are welcome,’ he said. ‘You can sit, eh? I have put some treatment on zem and I will live, they say.’
‘Well, that’s good to hear,’ Lily said, sinking back into her chair, still feeling guilty. Should she have let him use the poison after all? Or just been a bit more relaxed about her loft-invaders, like Dawn seemed to be? After all, she hadn’t even noticed them until the night of the fall.
Still, it was done now, and she looked at him gratefully. ‘Well, thank you,’ she said. ‘It is appreciated.’