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A Year at the French Farmhouse(66)

Author:Gillian Harvey

Emily was her family. All the ‘real’ adult family she had left. And she didn’t want her to go.

But it wasn’t about her. Emily had her own life to lead too. So she swallowed the feeling as best she could and masked it with a smile.

‘Love you,’ she said, giving Emily a squeeze.

‘Oh god. You too,’ her friend replied. ‘And look, I’ll be back to check up on you in a few weeks. It’s less expensive than hopping on a train into town.’

‘Thank you. I’d love that. And bring Chris, maybe?’

‘Thanks. Maybe. Hey, maybe we can double-date with you and Freddy.’ Emily’s eyes sparkled with mischief and Lily was struck suddenly by the fact that this was the first time she’d seen her friend’s genuine, cheeky smile since she’d arrived. ‘Only joking. And, look. You’ll be OK,’ Emily added, rubbing Lily’s shoulder. ‘I think you’re going to have a brilliant adventure.’

‘Thank you.’ She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d moved over with Emily or expected her to stay long term.

‘And you’re going to that party, right?’ Emily said, looking at her insistently.

‘I thought you said it would be a complete bore?’

‘Ah, but you don’t want to listen to anything I said during this trip. Most of the time I was either drinking too much or hungover,’ Emily quipped. ‘Seriously, though, I think you should go. It’ll be good to meet some new people – make some proper connections.’

‘I’ll try.’

‘Atta girl.’ And with that, Emily gave her quick peck on the cheek then joined the small queue leading to passport control.

Lily waved her hand when Emily was in the queue and her friend raised a reciprocal palm.

It felt wrong to disappear before Emily made it through security and into the waiting area, but the queue moved painfully slowly, meaning they were stuck performing an embarrassing scene: Lily playing the patient waver-offer, Emily rummaging in her bag, checking her passport, glancing up occasionally to grin and do another mock wave. It was excruciating, this need to be polite and do the right thing. They both knew it, yet they both played their parts to perfection until at last Emily disappeared through the glass double doors and Lily was able to turn and make her way home.

Six hours later, she was parking down the side of a country road, tucking the Nissan alongside ten or so other cars – muddy Land Rovers, battered Clios, and several cars that still had English plates. She’d opted to wear one of her summer dresses – something she didn’t often get the opportunity to slip on – and had taken the time to properly blow-dry her hair. The shampoo she’d used smelled of apples and she caught a whiff from time to time as she walked.

It had taken a while to find the right place. As in Faux la Montagne, none of the houses had numbers and it was a case of taking careful directions, looking out for landmarks such as ‘a field of cows’ or ‘the barn with all the solar panels’ in order to find what looked to be the right place. Even now, she was only half sure she wasn’t turning up to another party altogether.

The house looked gorgeous from the outside as she walked up the muddy, half-gravelled path. The shutters and front door were newly painted in a pale green, and a table and chairs sat under an enormous oak tree, its twisted trunk marking it out as at least a couple of hundred years old.

As she approached, she could hear the gentle hum of conversation, and saw to her right a group of people gathered together, wine glasses in hand, standing by an in-built pool. A couple of children were in the water, splashing and calling to one another. It was an idyllic scene, but she felt suddenly shy – not able to see Dawn or Clive among the guests and unsure how to introduce herself.

‘Hello, love.’ The voice in her ear was so sudden that she couldn’t help but jump. She turned and found herself face to face with Dawn, red hair backcombed into a resplendent bouffant, eye-liner slightly smudged and wearing a bikini top and sarong. She grinned and shoved an enormous glass of wine into Lily’s hand. ‘You found us then!’

‘Yes, oh, thank you. I shouldn’t really, I’m driving…’

‘Oh we don’t worry about that around here!’ Dawn said with a conspiratorial nudge and grin.

‘We don’t?’

‘No, well everyone else seems to just get in their cars after a long lunch. You see them weaving around the streets come two o’clock. All the farmers, and the like. No-one ever seems to stop them.’

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