Chapter 3
NOW
‘No, wait. I’m a quick learner. I can—’
‘I’m sorry, Madame Baker, but there are other candidates with more experience.’
‘So you’re not even going to give me an interview?’
There was a long pause, followed by a breath that bordered on a sigh. ‘I am sorry, Madame. There may be more opportunities in the autumn.’
‘But it’s only March. I need a job now!’
‘I am sorry.’ The line went dead and Bella found herself letting out a roar of frustration. A part-time cashier opening, at her local supermarket. The kind of thing she’d thought of as a last resort when she’d started the search two weeks ago; and now she’d just practically begged for an interview.
Her hand dropped to her side, the phone almost slipping from her grasp. She was utterly exhausted, dejected, tired of crying, and had put on at least two kilos in chocolate weight alone since Pete had left three weeks earlier.
The knock on the door made her jump. As she went to answer it, she glanced in the hall mirror and saw herself for the first time that day.
Hair wild and escaping from her ponytail.
Eyes red-rimmed and dark-circled. She thought back to her innocent entrance to the house that fateful evening; her warm scarf, neat coat.
Her hair, light make-up, her smile. At that moment in time, she’d thought they were simply having a bit of bad luck.
Bookings were down, the plumbing had needed a fix and they’d heard that social charges were increasing this tax year. Yes, they’d been arguing – who doesn’t?
But life had pulled the rug out from under her.
There was another knock. Then, ‘Bella?’ came a voice.
It was enough, even in this situation, to make her smile. ‘Juliette?’
‘Oui, open the door. It is warm this evening but it is not that warm.’
‘Sorry. Sorry.’ She wiped her hand roughly across her face and pulled back the latch, opening the door on the half-light of early evening.
Juliette, her blonde hair neatly bobbed around her face, wearing a jacket, jeans and walking boots, was there, holding a foil-covered dish in one hand and a lead in the other.
‘Oh, and Jolie!’ Bella exclaimed, dropping into a crouch and wrapping her arms around the golden lab. ‘It’s lovely to see you.’
‘Me, or the dog?’ Juliette enquired drily as she followed Bella into the hallway. She looked at Bella quizzically as she handed her the dish – slightly warm – and unhooked the lead from Jolie’s collar before removing her coat. Somehow, she maintained eye contact throughout.
‘Both of you, of course.’ Bella leant forward and lightly kissed her friend on each cheek. ‘And thanks for this.’ She lifted the dish slightly. ‘You didn’t need to.’
‘Didn’t I?’ Juliette said as they made their way into the kitchen. ‘Have you even been eating in here? Or just snacking?’
‘Both?’
‘Eating meals?’
Bella shrugged. ‘It’s hard, cooking for one.’
‘Pah! That is a pathetic excuse. I am cooking for one most of the time if you don’t count Jolie. And I manage just fine.’
Even in her miserable state, Bella felt the edges of her mouth turn up.
Juliette’s forthright manner was a breath of fresh air in her current confused state.
It had been Juliette who’d convinced her to apply for a job, to give herself a financial stopgap.
Time to think. She’d felt quite buoyed up about it last time they’d spoken.
That was before she’d realised just how unemployable she was.
‘Yes, but you like being single.’
Juliette shrugged. ‘Sometimes. Anyway, this is not a visit to talk about me. We need to talk about you.’
Bella had met Juliette a couple of months after moving to France. She worked with the maire as a secretary, as well as running the local social club. When Juliette’s grandparents had come to visit, they’d stayed at Bella’s B & B, somehow cementing their friendship.
‘Do we have to?’ Bella moaned, sitting down on the sofa.
‘Yes. We do. Because I can see that you are not well.’ Juliette peered at Bella’s face. ‘You have been crying, non?’
Bella shrugged. ‘Is it that obvious?’
‘Yes, Bella, and Pete is not worth your tears. You know this! He left you in a terrible situation.’
‘He doesn’t love me any more.’
Juliette shrugged as if this were an insignificant detail. ‘Perhaps, but he still has responsibilities. A business. He left that all with you. You should be angry, not sad.’
Bella nodded. ‘I know.’ It was hard though, when she felt Pete’s absence in every corner of the house. ‘Anyway,’ she waved vaguely at her face. ‘These tears aren’t about him. Not this time.’
‘Oh?’
Bella explained how she’d spent the afternoon enquiring about local work, but since she had no experience in doing anything here bar running a B & B, she’d been pipped to the post by other candidates. ‘It’s not that I’m not good enough,’ she said. ‘It’s just that they’re better.’
‘I doubt it,’ Juliette said, loyally.
‘Well, I even applied for that job at EcoMarché. You know the one I said I wouldn’t touch with a barge pole? And guess what. Not even an interview!’
‘Perhaps that is a blessing?’ Juliette detested the cheap supermarket in their local town, preferring to visit the butcher’s and buy the rest of her food from the market.
Bella shook her head, unable to join in with their usual humour. ‘I’m in serious trouble. Financially, I mean. The agent, Nathalie, is pretty sure those last viewers are going to make an offer. But even if they do, it’ll be at least three months before I see any of the equity.’
‘Well then you need to strategise,’ Juliette said. ‘Cast your net a little wider.’
‘Wider?’
‘Yes! You are not tied to Peyrat. Or Aubusson. Why not try Paris? I have a friend there, and she says the hospitality industry is crying out for staff.’
‘Paris! I won’t be able to afford to live there.’
‘If you have a job, you might?’ Juliette raised an eyebrow. ‘And there are lots of attractive men in Paris.’
‘Forget it. I’m off men for good.’
Juliette nodded, all mock seriousness. ‘Of course. How could I forget.’
‘I just don’t think… I mean, going to Paris. It’s a lot. I’m not sure I could…’
Juliette shuffled closer and put her arm around Bella’s shoulders. ‘Mon coeur, you are looking at it the wrong way! Maybe it’s what you need. To get away. Have an adventure. Forget about the house and the village for a while. Why not?’
‘I love you, Juliette, you know that. I love your… faith in me. But I’ve just failed at one business. I have no idea what I’m doing. And everyone but you can see that. I have no qualifications, no experience that seems relevant to employers. I can’t see myself getting a job at all.’
‘You want to borrow money? I have a little saved, you can have it if you need?’
Bella shook her head. ‘No. I mean, I need money. But I won’t. I can’t. You know that.’
‘Then why not give Paris a try?’ Juliette gave Bella’s knee a squeeze. ‘Look, if it were me, I’d just apply for every job I found and take whatever I can get. Cleaning, housekeeping, office work. Just to buy you some time. And in Paris, the wages will be better, even for those kinds of work.’
Bella nodded. ‘I know. I’m going to have to. Or it’ll be destination Kitty’s.’
‘Would that really be so terrible?’
‘Yes, actually. Anyway, you’re right. I just have to take whatever I can get. Even if it’s just a stopgap. Even if it’s – I don’t know – scrubbing Macron’s underwear or something.’
Juliette pulled her in for a hug. Jolie, sensing the emotional moment, came and lay her warm head on their hands, looking up at them imploringly. ‘See, even Jolie wants to help you,’ Juliette said.
Bella felt her eyes fill with tears. ‘Oh Jolie,’ she said, pulling her hand away and rubbing the dog’s head. ‘I know you’d employ me in a heartbeat.’
Juliette laughed. ‘Yes, she’d have you walking her and cooking special meals. Unfortunately, she can only pay you in love.’
‘If only the bank would accept that.’
‘Oui, indeed.’
Later, when her friend had left, Bella lifted the foil lid from the dish she’d been given to discover a rich pot-au-feu, a casserole made with well-marinated chunks of beef and vegetables in a rich gravy. She heated a little in the microwave and tried to eat, but it was difficult.
Juliette had been right. She hadn’t been eating properly. Just picking at this and that. Working through the batches of cupcakes she’d baked to get her mind off things. Feeling sick of them and sick with herself.
Something in her body reacted to the sensation of proper food, and she closed her eyes as she chewed and swallowed her first decent meal in an age.
‘Enough,’ she said to herself. Enough of the wallowing.
She would get a job if it killed her. She opened a bottle of wine – something she’d ordinarily never let herself do when alone for fear she’d finish the whole bottle – and poured herself a generous glass.
Then, roughly clearing off the kitchen table, stacking dishes and mugs in the corner to deal with later, she opened her laptop and began to search.
She didn’t want to leave her lovely home.
Only that was going to have to happen whether she liked it or not.
So maybe moving away from Peyrat for a time would be a blessing.
How would it feel to rent a home in the village and see someone else living her life in the house she’d thought she’d be in forever?
The tears threatened but she forced herself to regain control. It would feel awful. Awful.
Juliette was right, she should cast her net farther afield. Find a job to fill the months between sale and completion, give herself something to think about and money in her pocket. Keep the bank happy by paying her share of the mortgage. Then reconvene, decide what to do next.
She opened yet another application form and began to fill in her details, sipping from her wine as she did so.
Every job she’d applied for so far in the local area had criticised her lack of experience.
She’d run a business for eight years, but clearly that wasn’t impressive enough.
She hadn’t worked in an office, she’d never worked in a larger organisation.
Her face, her skills, just didn’t seem to fit the mould.
Her meagre qualifications from the UK weren’t even recognised here.
She thought of Kitty’s offer. Her sister had suggested she move back to the UK even if it was just for a bit. But staying at her sister’s and observing her perfect life – married bliss, a toddler, a successful career to go back to when she was ready – would be too much.
She wouldn’t be happy there, living in Kitty’s shadow, feeling every ounce of her inadequacy. France was the place where her happiness lived, and she had to stay.
What would Kitty do if she were in this situation? she thought, opening up yet another questionnaire.
She didn’t need to ask. Kitty had always been the confident one. She’d aced her exams, got into a top university, landed a coveted graduate scheme. She’d met the love of her life, got married, conceived easily and now had a perfect little boy. Her CV would impress anyone.
She thought of Juliette. Of her forthright manner, her strength. If Juliette were in this situation, she would sell herself. She had the confidence to overcome the sort of reticence that Bella had when talking about her skills.
If she wanted to get anywhere, she’d have to forget all about who she was, her limitations, and try to become the kind of person she wished she could be.