The Paris Trip: A feel-good, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

His father blinked in surprise, hesitating as he scanned Leo’s face, then said with deliberate provocation, ‘You heard me.’

Leo’s fists clenched by his side. ‘If you weren’t my father,’ he began, his voice low and dangerous, but felt a hand tug his sleeve, and turned to look down into Maeve’s face.

‘Don’t, it’s not worth it,’ she said quietly. ‘Plus, he is your father, remember?’

As the red haze dissipated from his vision, common sense returned. Leo shook his head like someone coming out of water. ‘You’re right, he’s not worth it. But you are, Maeve.’ He turned back to his father, drawing himself up straight. He knew what he had to do. It was something he had been avoiding for years. But the time had come. ‘I’ve had enough. I can’t live like this any longer. You don’t deserve me.’

His father gave a puff of laughter. ‘What does that mean?’ he demanded in his usual hectoring way, squaring his shoulders as Leo chose to retreat. No doubt his father felt he’d won that confrontation. But he was wrong.

‘I’m leaving Chateau Rémy,’ Leo said crisply. ‘I’ll pack my stuff tonight and be out of here tomorrow. I’ll leave a breakdown of the current business for you to look over at your leisure. By the way, Henri wants the family to visit for Aunt Beatrice’s birthday. And he needs help with the fire situation at the cave. Remember I told you about that?’

His voice was matter-of-fact, his anger having fallen away now that he had made his decision. And it was the right decision, he was sure of it. He already felt lighter, his burdens slipping away…

‘You can’t leave.’ His father was staring at him, his expression incredulous. ‘You’re needed here.’

‘I only took over when Francis died because I didn’t want to leave my grandmother struggling on her own. I knew you wouldn’t bother coming home to help her. Somebody had to look after her and Nonna. And Bernadette was still in college at the time. It wouldn’t have been fair to ask her to step up. But she’s older now and has a fair grasp of the family business. And you’re here with Chanelle. So I’m no longer necessary.’

‘You haven’t got anywhere to go,’ Sébastien pointed out cruelly.

‘No, but I have friends. I’ll sort something out.’

‘And what will you do for money? Because you won’t get a penny from me.’

‘You’ve never paid me a proper wage for running the business. It’s time to collect on that debt.’ He paused, adding softly, ‘Even if I have to take you to court for what’s due to me.’

‘Take me to court?’ his father echoed, looking astonished. ‘I’ll fight you. Anyway, you did it for love, you’ve just admitted as much yourself. And in return for bed and board here at the chateau.’ His father threw up his hands. ‘How many people get to live somewhere like this for free? You should count yourself lucky.’

Leo gave a humourless laugh. ‘Oh yes, I’m so lucky…’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not staying, Dad, so you might as well face it. And I’ll pot-wash if I must. At least I’d be independent at last. Though given how much I’ve learnt these past few years, running the business, I’m confident I’ll find good work soon enough. And my art may even start to support me again, now that I’ve gone back to painting.’

He moved about the room, automatically collecting things he would need to take with him. He would have to arrange for some of his work to be put into storage, in case it got damaged, left here alone with his father and Chanelle. His father might not sabotage his work, but he didn’t trust Chanelle and wouldn’t put anything past her.

With a shock, he realised Liselle would have to be told. She would have a meltdown when she heard that he was leaving. And Grandmère would be distraught. That hit him hard. But he couldn’t live his life for other people anymore. He needed to get free of this place before it killed him.

‘Are you okay?’ he stopped to ask Maeve, still furious at the way his father had spoken about her.

To his relief, she nodded, seeming calm enough. If anyone had spoken like that to Liselle, she would have screamed and scratched their eyes out. Maeve was made of sterner stuff.

‘You can’t be serious,’ his father stammered. ‘You can’t leave, Leo. I won’t hear of it. I won’t let you go. You can’t expect me to run the business… I don’t have the first clue what you’ve been doing since I’ve been away.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I demand that you stay.’

‘I’m done, dad. It’s over.’

‘But I’m your father. I am chef de famille. You must obey me.’

‘Not happening, sorry,’ Leo said shortly, throwing open the studio door. ‘I’ll talk to you later about the business. Now I need to speak to Maeve alone.’

His father hesitated, then left, taking Chanelle with him. ‘We’ll talk later, yes. And I will expect an apology.’

With a derisive laugh, Leo closed the door after him, turning at once to Maeve. ‘I’m sorry he spoke to you like that. If it had been any other man, I would have punched him for that. Please believe me.’

‘I do,’ she admitted, ‘and that’s what worries me. I don’t want you punching anyone on my behalf. Let alone your dad.’ Her gaze needled him. ‘Thank you for your concern. But I don’t need any man fighting my battles for me. Besides, it was just nonsense, what he was saying. So what’s the point in getting irate about nonsense?’

He felt rebuffed and sucked in a breath. ‘I get your point. I’m sorry. I felt embarrassed, that’s all… That my own father could say something like that to a guest.’

Her smile looked almost sad. ‘I’d better go and pack too. I’m not staying here if you’re leaving.’ Maeve got up and reached for her clothes, still wearing the diaphanous wrap she had donned for the painting session. ‘It’s true, your father’s very rude,’ she added thoughtfully, ‘but are you ready to throw away your relationship with him over a silly argument? You could paint him and Chanelle in a few hours, surely?’

‘Of course. But that’s not the point. It’s a matter of principle.’ He knew she wouldn’t understand though. She had never had to deal with the steady drip-drip-drip of unhappiness and repression that he’d experienced under his father’s yoke. As she turned to the door, he caught her hand. ‘A minute, please… My only real regret is the possibility that I might lose touch with you because of this.’ He swallowed down a wave of yearning. This wasn’t the time or place to be making romantic overtures to this woman. But he had to try. ‘Will you still let me paint you? You won’t go straight back to England now you’re free to leave France, I hope?’

‘Sorry, but yes, that was my intention.’ She looked away. ‘I’ve been away from home too long.’

‘Then perhaps I could come to England.’ He knew it was unlikely but he couldn’t see any other way. ‘Assuming you’d like to see me again?’

She said nothing, but there was a soft glow to her cheeks as she glanced back at him.

He added with difficulty, ‘It can’t be any time soon, unfortunately. I’ll have to work from memory and photographs to complete the paintings from the exhibition. But it would be good to paint you one day in your natural habitat too.’ He smiled at her look of confusion. ‘England, I mean.’

But before Maeve could reply, Liselle slammed into the studio in a figure-hugging green silk jumpsuit, her face flushed, her eyes wide and furious.

Maeve tugged free and took two hurried steps backwards, almost as though afraid Liselle was about to attack her.

‘What the hell is going on, Leo?’ his manager demanded breathlessly, advancing on him with malevolent intent. She stopped barely a foot away, her hands dropping to her hips, her chin jutting dangerously. ‘Your father’s just told me you’re leaving Chateau Rémy and that you don’t plan to come back. And all because of her.’ She flung out an arm in quivering accusation, pointing at Maeve. ‘Is it true?’