Escape to the French Riviera

Chapter Twenty-Eight

James isn’t as I pictured him. He’s studious, quiet and keeps himself to himself. He is studying marine biology and seems more interested in his books than getting into any form of conversation with me. I don’t know what I imagined, but I suppose since Elias can be outgoing and rather gregarious, I assumed his sons would be similar. I thought James might be the life and soul of every student party.

Danny, meanwhile, is going to be the one I need to convince. From the moment I walk in through the front door, sheepishly hiding behind Elias, he looks at me suspiciously. He has dark brown eyes, like his dad. I smile and hold my hand out to greet him, but he turns on his heels.

‘I’d better get going. Got to go around and collect for some bills that need paying.’

‘Don’t let Mr Henley hide behind the sofa this time,’ teases Elias.

Danny doesn’t smile.

‘We’ve one customer, and every time I’d go round for money, he’d dart behind the door. I’d watch in disbelief as he’d crawl on his hands and knees to avoid paying. A real devil he was. He gets Danny every time. Maybe it’s time to expand the business and get more staff in, preferably someone who can chase payments. I’ve been thinking for a while it should be more than a one-man band by now. What do you say, Dan? We could take on some big contracts for companies?’

But Danny is already gone. The front door slams shut. Elias doesn’t acknowledge his absence, simply smiles, and insists he takes my bag upstairs. The house is big, but not something a lottery winner would live in. It’s got five bedrooms and is the type of house someone with a successful business would own. I admire the pretty stained-glass window in the hallway with its kingfisher pattern, and Elias tells me that Jane designed it herself. Just as I thought, this was very much their family home. As we walk up the cream-carpeted staircase, I notice the paintings that lead up to the spare room. I can tell they are Jane’s art since they all have a distinctive style and are all landscapes. There is no doubt she was talented.

The spare room is decorated with pink and white wallpaper, which is slightly dated. It could definitely do with a makeover. Parts of it are faded, and I remember what Elias said about the boys not wanting anything changed. Is it only the boys who don’t want it changed though?

When Elias makes me tea in the kitchen, there is further evidence that Jane is all around us, with matching tea towels, oven gloves and a pink kettle. It feels a little unsettling, and I begin to wish we were back on the yacht, which had subtler signs of Jane.

‘Jane seemed to like pink.’ I smile.

‘She certainly did. I should make it a bit more masculine in here really…’

‘No, it’s fine.’ Although, with all the testosterone in here, it does appear incongruous.

‘So, anyway, I thought perhaps we’d get a takeaway tonight and then I’ll take you into Cheadle tomorrow if that’s okay? I’ve told Danny to make sure he’s back by six. It’d be nice to all sit down, have dinner and get to know each other.’

‘Yes, fabulous. Sounds lovely. I’ll look forward to it.’ But the truth is that I am not looking forward to it one bit. How on earth am I supposed to enjoy an onion bhaji when Danny is sat across from me, looking at me with those dark, suspicious eyes?

I was right to be sceptical, and, as I suspected, I can’t enjoy my onion bhaji one bit because if I try to say anything, Danny shoots me down. I do understand that it is difficult for him, and I know how awkward the girls can be, too, so I try to remain polite, and no matter how much he unnerves me, I attempt not to show it.

‘I hope Mr Henley paid you, did he?’ I ask when nobody is talking around the table. I can’t bear silences in awkward situations.

‘Why? So, we’ve got more money?’ says Danny.

‘Danny! Lucy’s only trying to be polite,’ says Elias.

‘Yeah, well. I suppose she knows about the you know what …’

‘Yes, I’ve told her, but that’s not why she’s here.’

I notice how Danny scowls at me, and I try to move the conversation away from money.

‘Your mum was a very talented artist, wasn’t she?’ I say, pointing to another of her paintings that hangs proudly in the dining room.

Danny ignores me and James crunches down on a poppadom, which drowns out any conversation I try to make.

‘That one’s a poppy field in France we visited. We were driving past, and she insisted I stop. She took photos and painted it when she got back,’ says Elias.

‘Wow, fantastic. Sounds like you had a beautiful trip.’

Danny suddenly grabs hold of his plate and the beer in front of him and storms off.

What on earth did I say?

‘Danny, get back here,’ shouts Elias.

‘No, it’s fine. Let him go,’ I say.

‘Think I’ll take this up too,’ says James, picking up his plate.

‘Oh no. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to cause any problems between you all. This is a disaster. I shouldn’t have come.’

‘Of course, you should. They’ll come around. I promise.’

As Elias strokes my hand in a bid to reassure me, I don’t have the same level of confidence. These boys might be in their twenties, but I can clearly see that they are still grieving the loss of their beloved mum.

Later, when I’m lying alone in Elias’s spare room, I think about how much the boys are still hurting. You can tell what a close family they all were. Although I miss lying beside Elias, it wouldn’t be at all appropriate to share the room he had with the boys’ mother.

At breakfast the following morning, James just about nods his head at me, and Danny pushes past me. The atmosphere in the kitchen is colder than the milk on my cereal.

‘So, I was thinking I could show you Cheadle today,’ says Elias cheerily.

‘Aren’t you busy, Dad?’ says Danny.

‘Well, yes, I’m spending the day with Lucy. Showing her around.’

‘I need help with a few of the invoices. I was hoping you could give me a hand,’ says Danny.

‘Of course. You want to sit down now?’

‘No, well, I need to make a few call outs. Bang on a few doors. I thought we could go round together. The old customers would love to see you again.’

I get the feeling that Danny will make any excuse to ensure we don’t spend the day together. I look at the kitchen clock. It’s only ten a.m., and I already feel as though I have outstayed my welcome.

‘You go, Elias. It’s more important that you sort the business out. Get those invoices paid. We can do lunch another time.’

Elias looks at me and then Danny. I notice how smug Danny’s expression is. It is as if he is trying to tell me that he has won the first round.

‘No, you came all this way to visit… I…’

‘It’s absolutely fine. You know, in hindsight, I should probably get back home. I only have a few more chapters until I finish the book. I’m almost there. Why don’t we both work this weekend. There’s plenty of time to do something another time.’

‘No, I won’t hear of it,’ says Elias.

‘Dad, you know, Mrs Papadopulos would love to see you. She might even give you some of that olive oil she brings back from Corfu.’

Elias doesn’t look convinced, but Danny is very persuasive.

‘It’s fine. Honestly, I’ll leave. I forgot my laptop, so I can’t get any work done, and I really need to get the book finished, so please don’t worry about me. It probably wasn’t the best timing. I’ll head back.’

Elias tries to protest, but I won’t hear of it. Danny is not going to be won round easily, and just like Elias felt when he visited me, I realise I am not welcome, and it is best I get home.

Elias can’t apologise enough for the way Danny has treated me, but I remind him that even though they’re grown up, our kids still just see us as the parents they grew up with, and they hate big changes – including the dynamics of a new relationship.

‘You’re so understanding, thank you,’ says Elias, kissing me goodbye at Manchester train station.

‘I’ll see you again soon. We’ll sort something out,’ I say.

‘I really don’t want you to leave, but maybe I need this time to speak to Danny. I’m going to tell him how much you mean to me. Then I’m sure he’ll come around.’

‘That means a lot, thank you. I should probably speak to the girls too. Perhaps we need this time apart to sort out our family dynamics and, who knows, maybe one day our families can meet up.’

‘Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could be one big extended family,’ says Elias.

‘It would.’

‘But, in the meantime, I still mean what I said about running off to France for the summer. If all else fails… Well, we may have to.’

Elias looks at me with the cheekiest look on his face, and I start to think that this might be the only option if we want to be together.