Chapter 28
Maxine watched like an anxious parent as J-F forked food into his mouth. Eventually, he finished it all and licked his lips. Maxine ate her portion of omelette too – it was a gesture of solidarity.
He placed the plate on the floor. ‘That was good. Thank you.’
‘It was just eggs and cheese and bread.’
‘And company. I feel like I’m forgiven. Like I’m your friend again.’
‘Of course you are.’
‘You messaged me three times,’ J-F said. ‘The first time, I was lying in bed and my head was sore. I’d drunk too much Breton whisky – I’d finished the bottle, and I said to myself, Max doesn’t really want to talk to me.’
‘I did – I do.’ Maxine insisted.
‘Then you invited me to lunch, and I was unsure, but I said to myself, if she messages a third time, I’ll go. Because I didn’t think you would.’
Maxine exhaled sharply. ‘I was worried I was pestering you.’
‘It felt nice that you cared enough to try.’
‘So if I hadn’t texted three times…’
‘I’d be lying in bed while my stomach eats itself,’ J-F said, almost smiling. ‘Thank you, Max.’
‘I thought you didn’t like me after we – you know…’ Maxine took a deep breath. It wasn’t all about her. ‘Do you feel better now?’
J-F shrugged. ‘There are bad days and better days.’
‘But you’re recovering?’
‘I’ll never be well.’
Maxine lowered her voice. ‘Tell me about your wife, J-F.’
‘Noémie.’ J-F seemed unable to say any more.
‘I heard she died…’
‘Four months ago.’ J-F put a hand to his head. ‘It feels like yesterday.’
‘Do you want to tell me? Would it help to talk?’
‘It won’t bring her back.’ J-F looked around for a drink again. ‘It’s hard to live without her.’
‘How did she die?’
‘It was just bad luck. Almost unbelievable.’ He paused for a moment, composing himself, running a hand across his face.
‘We’d been out to a party and we came home late.
We’d both drunk a little wine – not a lot – but Noémie had a headache, so she took a tablet.
We went to bed and I thought, she’ll be better in the morning… ’
Maxine met his gaze steadily and waited. It was clearly hard for him to say the words out loud.
‘She woke up in the night and had a fever. She was burning. I got her water, more pills for her headache and she tried to sleep. A few hours later, I woke again and she was sick. I knew then she was seriously unwell. She got up and fell onto the floor and I went to her. She had a – I don’t know the English words – une éruption cutanée sur le cou—’
‘A rash on her neck?’ Maxine had half guessed.
‘I called the doctor. They took her to the hospital.’
‘What happened?’
‘There was nothing they could do. The doctor told me Noémie was unlucky. Meningitis is cured with antibiotics, but I wasn’t quick enough to get help.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It happened so fast. I sat by her bed and she never became conscious. I watched the doctors all around her, being busy, then she breathed out one time and it was the end.’ J-F tried hard to compose himself, but his face was wet with tears.
‘Less than 10 per cent of people with the illness die of it. In one day I went from the happiest man with all his life in front of him to a man with nothing left.’
Maxine shivered. ‘I understand.’
‘You can’t understand, Max.’
‘Things will get better in time.’
‘No.’ J-F wiped his face. ‘Everyone says this, but they can’t know how I feel.’
‘I know.’ Maxine felt cold all over.
J-F’s eyes were small. ‘How can you know?’
‘Because the same thing happened to me.’
‘To you?’
Maxine took a huge breath. It was still difficult to talk about it. ‘His name was Andy. We were in our twenties. We were going to get married.’
Silence hung in the air for a while. J-F said, ‘He died?’
Maxine closed her eyes and the images were there again, the whirling blue lights. She could hear the whoop of the sirens. Then she was in the hospital. Andy’s face was pale, his voice weak. She remembered his words.
I’m going to find our home… and wait for you.
He had drifted into sleep and was gone. And she’d spent the rest of her life loving him.
When she opened her eyes, her cheeks were wet.
J-F was tearful too. ‘You adored him?’
‘I still do.’
‘But you said it gets better.’
‘That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I think about him every day.’
‘Yet you found love again?’
‘No.’ Maxine swallowed hard. ‘I tried. I got married. I had relationships but… there was only really Andy.’
‘What will I do?’ J-F whispered.
‘You’ll survive.’
‘Is that what you do? You survive? Because you still love him?’
‘It’s all we have.’ Maxine moved from her seat to perch next to J-F. She took his hand. ‘We’re the lucky ones.’
‘I don’t feel lucky.’
Her face was fierce. ‘We owe Noémie and Andy, to live our lives, to be happy.’
‘And are you happy?’
‘I’m getting better at it.’
‘You believe I can do that?’ J-F didn’t sound certain.
‘You can.’
‘You’ll help me, Max?’
‘I’ll try. But you have to help yourself, J-F. Each day is a new start.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ he said. ‘Thank you. I think you’re right.’
‘I am.’
‘One thing more.’ J-F’s expression was calm.
‘Can I stay with you tonight? I mean – stay in your house. On the couch. I don’t like to be alone.
When I’m by myself, dark thoughts come to me.
Sometimes I feel close to the edge, and I’m afraid.
But I won’t take the step that pushes me over the edge. I won’t.’
‘You need to talk to someone about it.’
‘Can I talk to you?’
‘Of course.’ Maxine squeezed his hand. ‘And you should talk to your doctor too.’
‘I will.’ J-F squeezed her hand in return. ‘Right now, I think tomorrow will be a better day.’
‘For us both – we’ll take things one at a time,’ Maxine said, and she meant it.
It was past three when Maxine opened her eyes and realised that she was lying on the couch, her head on J-F’s shoulder, her joints stiff.
There was a dim glow from a lamp in the corner, but the room was in shadows.
They had chatted until well after midnight, spoken about love and life, Andy and Noémie, and somehow they had fallen asleep.
Maxine eased J-F into a comfortable position, covered him with a light throw from the back of the sofa and picked up the empty plates.
He made a sound, the sleepy snuffle of someone dreaming.
For the first time since she’d met him his face was free from tension, calm as a child’s.
She tiptoed upstairs and wriggled into her own bed.
Within minutes, she was breathing deeply.
She woke at nine, sat up in bed and listened hard for the sound of someone else in the cottage. Perhaps J-F had left early or he was still asleep.
Then she could smell the warm aroma of baking. And something else – a rich roasting smell. Coffee.
She heard a bumping sound – a drawer being opened, perhaps. J-F must be in the kitchen. Maxine wriggled into jeans and a T-shirt and padded down just as he was piling croissants on the table, with jam, butter, a cafetière of fresh coffee.
‘What’s this?’ She was delighted.
‘I went out for pastries. To say thank you,’ J-F said. His hair was damp.
‘Did you have a shower?’
‘Yes – I looked into your room and you were asleep, purring like a kitten. Your shampoo’s very nice. Now I smell of coconuts. Please, sit down and we’ll share breakfast.’
‘Thank you.’ Maxine was pleased to see him looking so much better. ‘So – what are you up to today?’
‘I’m going to see how my business is managing. We get lots of customers this time of year, so I need to say thanks to the guys who’ve looked after it while I was at home being sad.’ He took a bite of croissant. ‘I’ll look after myself better, Max.’
‘It’s not easy.’ Maxine poured coffee for them both. ‘But you have to reach out to friends.’
‘You’ll help me?’ His expression was tender. ‘And I’ll help you too. But when you go home, I’ll be sorry.’
‘I’ve got a couple of weeks left,’ Maxine said. ‘In that time, we can meet up.’
He said, ‘Yes. You’ll come with me on the Harley to the seaside?’
‘Of course,’ Maxine said.
J-F asked, ‘What will you do today?’
‘I owe myself some horse-riding, now the weather’s better.’
‘Maybe tomorrow we can be together? If the weather’s good, we can find a beach.’
‘That would be nice.’ Maxine glanced at her phone. ‘Message me. And J-F – if you have dark thoughts, promise me you’ll phone me straight away.’
‘When I feel sad, the phone’s very heavy. That’s because my heart’s heavy too. I can’t move. I just want to be where Noémie is.’
‘I understand, really I do. And that’s when you need to reach out.’
‘But what if I make you depressed too?’
‘That’s not how friendship works.’ Maxine pressed his hand. ‘Do you know what dates with mates means?’
J-F looked confused.
‘It’s when people who like each other as friends catch up, hang out.’
‘So we are mates who have dates?’
‘Exactly.’
‘I like this idea,’ J-F said and Maxine thought he looked better already.
She grinned. ‘It’s better than getting drunk, falling into bed and not remembering what you did the next day. Being left with that awful, embarrassed feeling.’
‘You’re so wise,’ J-F said seriously.
‘I am.’ Maxine laughed. ‘Sometimes I feel almost grown up.’
‘So, on Sunday, we’ll go out together.’
‘Definitely.’ Maxine crammed the last buttery piece of croissant into her mouth.
J-F glanced at the wall clock. ‘I’d better go. I’ve not been kind to the guys at the canoeing – they’ve done all my work. I want to spend time there today.’
‘Great.’ Maxine stood up to clear away the plates. ‘And I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘I look forward to it.’ J-F made his way to the door, picking up his leather jacket and helmet.
Maxine followed him. They stood outside in the sunshine, and he moved towards his Harley.
‘Thank you.’ He kissed her cheek briefly before straddling the bike.
‘Thank you for everything, my friend. From my heart.’
Maxine hugged him just as three figures turned the corner and came into view, strolling towards the cottage, their feet crunching against the gravel.
Fliss waved. ‘Hi, Max. You’re up bright and early.’
J-F started his motorbike just as Manu and Théo reached him. Maxine heard Théo ask J-F how he was then J-F’s Harley made the familiar potato sound and he drove away to join the traffic.
‘We came round to find out what happened to you. One minute you were at Shirl’s and then you’d gone.
’ Fliss wrapped her arms around Maxine and whispered in her ear.
‘And now we know why. You’re a dark horse, Max.
So, J-F stayed over, then? I want to hear all about it – and that includes all the juicy bits. ’