Chapter 34
Moments later, there was a low rap at the door. Maxine rushed to open it and found Béa smoking a cigarette, wearing a skimpy top.
‘Can I come in?’ She held up a bottle of white wine.
‘Can you leave the cigarette outside?’ Maxine asked politely.
Béa stubbed it out and marched in. ‘So – where are my English aunties?’
Fliss shrieked, ‘Darling,’ and wrapped her arms around Béa. ‘Have a huge Viking’s testicle.’
‘I’m Jo,’ said Jo. ‘Grab some food.’
‘I’ll do you a plate,’ Shirl said.
‘I have no appetite.’ Béa pouted.
‘Shall we sit in the garden?’ Maxine asked.
‘Oh, I love Clotilde’s garden,’ Shirl said. ‘You’ve made it so beautiful, Fliss. All the herbs and wild flowers.’
‘They give me the sneezing.’ Béa refilled her glass, although it wasn’t empty.
Maxine led everyone outside; each person had a glass in one hand and a plate in the other. They sat at the small table.
Béa said, ‘Your daughter’s getting married soon, Shirl. I spoke to her in the boulangerie. Her little girl is so beautiful. Louis didn’t want babies.’ Béa swigged her drink.
‘Men can be so selfish!’ Jo snorted.
Fliss asked, ‘How is Louis?’
‘Oh, Louis.’ Béa rolled her eyes in a pretend swoon. ‘He’s adorable. Yesterday I ironed his shirts and made him a bouillabaisse from a tin, and he swept me into his arms and he kissed me so much, then we—’
‘Did you burn your arm ironing?’ Maxine asked, narrowing her eyes. There was a slice of red on Béa’s left arm.
‘It’s nothing,’ Béa said. ‘But Louis won’t be happy. Today I got a job.’
‘I thought Louis didn’t want you to work?’ Fliss asked.
‘He doesn’t, but it’s just a small job. The mayor knows I speak good English. He’s asked me to do translation for a few hours a week. It’ll bring extra money. I’ll give it to Louis for a holiday.’
‘I paid for my own holiday,’ Jo said abruptly.
‘Then you don’t have a husband who loves you enough,’ Béa replied and Jo winced.
‘Can I get more drinks?’ Fliss asked.
Jo held out her glass. ‘More Viking balls.’
‘Margarita, please,’ from Maxine.
‘I’ll get more food.’ Shirl stood up.
Maxine glanced around the garden. The air was cool now and the light was fading. A gentle fragrance from the dew-damp flowers hung in the air.
Shirl and Fliss bustled back into the kitchen and Béa turned to Jo. ‘Where’s your husband?’
‘In London.’ Jo didn’t want to talk about Terry.
‘Why do all English women come to France?’ Béa asked. ‘You think French men are best lovers.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Jo said emphatically.
‘But Max would,’ Béa said, as if it were common knowledge.
‘What?’ Jo was amazed. ‘No, Max hasn’t got a boyfriend.’
‘A friend of mine was having dinner at Le Shack a week or two ago. She said that an English woman was drunk and a man was carrying her back to Clotilde’s Cottage. He was drunk too.’ Béa turned her eyes on Maxine. ‘She said it was you.’
‘It couldn’t have been,’ Jo said. Maxine put cool hands to her cheeks.
‘It’s true – she was with Jean-Francois Kastell, and they were over each other,’ Béa said casually. ‘And my friend saw him leave the cottage early the next morning. So – voilà – they must have slept together.’
‘Who slept together?’ Fliss asked breezily as she waltzed into the garden with a tray of drinks. Shirl was at her shoulder with a pot of curry and rice.
‘Max had – how do you say – a French fling,’ Béa said. ‘She was drunk.’
‘Is this gossip? Tell all.’
‘There’s some mistake.’ Jo frowned. ‘Béa says her friend saw Max with a man and he spent the night with her. Max wouldn’t do that.’
All eyes were on Maxine. She drained her glass and gave a saintly smile. ‘Well, I suppose I can’t deny it.’
‘What?’ Shirl seemed to think she’d misheard.
‘You slept with someone?’ Fliss was all eyes and ears. ‘You little minx – fancy having a man in your bed all night and not telling us. Who was it?’
‘Jean-Francois Kastell,’ Bea said with no interest whatsoever.
Jo was astonished. ‘The man whose wife died?’
‘It was a one-off,’ Maxine said bluntly. ‘Things got a bit out of hand.’
‘I’m sure they did,’ Fliss chuckled. ‘That’s the best sort of out of hand…’
Shirl said, ‘De olda de moon, de brighter it shines.’
‘What does that mean?’ Jo asked.
‘Work it out for yourself.’ Shirl patted Maxine’s hand. ‘As long as you’re happy.’
‘We’re fine,’ Maxine said. ‘We talked it over and put our friendship back on track.’
‘I can’t believe it – you’d only been here a week and you’re sleeping with all the locals.’ Jo looked impressed.
‘Hardly.’ Maxine met her eyes. ‘I messed up, Jo – it happens to us all.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’ Jo knocked back her cocktail. ‘Well, Max, we learn something every day.’
Shirl said, ‘Anyone for more curry?’
‘I think we’re at that point in the evening – although it’s a bit early – for our guilty secrets to come out.’ Fliss wrapped an arm around Maxine’s neck. ‘Let me tell you about Hugh. Now, he and I were married for three years… but I wasn’t completely faithful, I’m afraid.’
‘If we are going to tell the secrets…’ Béa held out her glass.
It was still almost full. ‘Fliss, please put more of the Viking testicle in my glass. Wait…’ She finished off the drink in four gulps.
‘That’s better – now you can fill to the top.
’ She met each pair of eyes. ‘I love my English friends. They drink too much and sleep with men they don’t know. There’s so much I can learn…’
It was two o’clock in the morning. Shirl was washing up, her hands in a sink full of hot water, dishes stacked to one side. ‘I’ll just finish these and be on my way.’
Maxine blinked hard. There were two Shirls at the sink. She hadn’t drunk a lot, but her capacity wasn’t what it used to be. She stood up carefully. ‘I’ll dry.’
‘Leave them until tomorrow,’ Shirl advised. ‘They’ll be drier then. And so will you.’
Maxine tottered to the door that led to the living room, where Béa was sprawled on the couch, her skirt hitched up. Her legs were extended and one shoe was off. She groaned. ‘How did Viking women manage? All those testicles…’
‘Do you want a coffee?’ Maxine asked.
Béa slurred a reply. ‘Hot. Dark. Strong. Like Louis.’
‘I’ll get it,’ Shirl said. ‘I just texted Joel. He’s going to taxi Béa home, then me and Fliss.’
‘That’s a good idea.’ Maxine gazed towards the ceiling. ‘I wonder how Fliss is getting on. Do you think she needs a hand with Jo?’
Shirl shrugged. ‘Fliss will get a pint of water down her and tuck her up in bed.’
‘She was very drunk,’ Maxine said.
‘It’s just catharsis,’ Shirl grunted.
‘How do you mean?’ Maxine asked.
‘That poor woman had troubles all bottled up. She’ll be fine now, you mark my words.’
‘You’re right.’ Maxine wanted to go to bed herself. Her eyes were closing and she needed to lie down.
‘It’s done her good to be here,’ Shirl said. ‘You’re a great friend to her, Max.’
‘I try.’
‘You have a kind heart. And I think you’re helping J-F too.’
‘He’s doing well.’
‘I have to ask – you’re not lovers.’
‘No, we’re not.’
‘Only – we’re meeting up at Rose Falaise for dinner tomorrow night. Fliss said he’s invited. I just wanted to make sure you were OK.’
‘It’s fine,’ Maxine said. ‘We slept together once. No, we just get on well. That’s all there is to it.’
‘Friendship’s underrated,’ Shirl said.
‘Did your mum have a proverb for that?’ Maxine asked.
‘Good frien’ betta dan packet money,’ Shirl said.
‘They certainly are,’ Maxine agreed.
‘I want to go home.’ Béa’s voice came from the other room.
‘Joel will be here soon.’
‘Louis texted me to say the bed is cold.’ Bea grumbled and tossed over on the couch, hugging the cushion.
Fliss appeared, looking the worse for wear too. ‘Jo’s asleep.’
‘Thanks, Fliss,’ Maxine said.
‘That’s the last time I mix my drinks.’ Fliss waved a hand in front of her face. ‘How many times have I said that?’
‘You look a million dollars,’ Shirl said loyally. It was the truth. Fliss’s dress was smooth and immaculate, her shoes perfect. ‘Joel will be two minutes.’
‘He’s a star,’ Fliss said. ‘If I tried to walk up to Rose Falaise, I’d end up in the sea. Bless Manu and Théo though – they offered to do the taxi run home.’ She staggered into the living room. ‘Are you awake, Béa? How are you feeling?’
Béa sat bolt upright. ‘I don’t want to go home – I’ve changed my mind.’
Maxine padded in to see what was happening. Shirl was struggling into her jacket.
Fliss said, ‘Are you all right, Béa?’
‘I’ll stay here,’ Béa said. ‘With nice ladies who make me laugh.’
‘But what about Louis?’ Fliss looked at Maxine.
‘Louis is une merde.’
‘What?’ Maxine was puzzled. ‘It was all sweetness and light a minute ago. He texted you that the bed was too cold.’
‘I hate him. He is une grosse merde. Un balai de chiotte.’ Béa had drunk too much. ‘Don’t make me go home to him, Max.’ She stood up and burst into tears.
Fliss was nearest. She held Béa in her arms. ‘What’s the matter? You can tell your Aunty Fliss.’
‘He’s not nice to me.’ Béa’s shoulders were shaking.
Maxine placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘Why?’
‘He tells me what I must eat, that I must stay indoors.’ Béa folded her arms sulkily. ‘He treats me like a child.’
There was a light knock on the door. ‘That’ll be Joel.’ Shirl hurried over to answer it and Maxine felt the draught of cool night air.
‘It’s fine – don’t worry. I’ll go home and be good.’ Béa wiped her face and stood up straight as if she were about to be assassinated. With her short hair, she looked like Joan of Arc.
‘I can make a bed up on the couch,’ Maxine said.
‘There’s plenty of space at Rose Falaise,’ Fliss said.
Béa’s eyes were wide with horror. ‘Louis will kill me.’
Fliss and Maxine exchanged anxious glances. Joel walked into the room, his usual happy grin, his long fringe over his eyes.
‘Le taxi vous attend.’
‘Right – thanks, Joel.’ Fliss lowered her voice. ‘You don’t need to go home, Béa, especially if Louis is dangerous.’
‘Dangerous?’ Béa laughed giddily. ‘I love that man so much. But he’ll be the death of me.’
‘Why?’ Shirl was concerned. ‘Does he hurt you?’
‘Every day he breaks my heart and I break his.’ Béa burst into tears all over again.
‘I hope Gemma and Bastien have a good marriage. Marriage is for young people. I’m too old.
’ Béa staggered over and threw her arms around Maxine in a hug.
‘You’re independent. You should stay that way.
Fliss—’ She threw herself into a second hug, her face smeared with tears.
‘No man will hurt you. Not like me and Louis. L’amour nous déchirera les entrailles. Love tears us apart.’
‘I’ll take you home,’ Joel said quietly.
‘Yes, back to my husband.’ Béa wiped her face. ‘I can’t live without him.’
Shirl frowned. ‘We should go.’
‘I’ll talk to Louis,’ Joel said.
‘I’ll come too,’ Fliss added. ‘Béa’s not making sense. But I want to be sure she’s all right.’
Maxine felt numb. ‘I think most of us drank far too much.’
‘But it was a wonderful night,’ Fliss said. ‘And tomorrow, we’ll have dinner on the cliff top with just the tiniest glass of champagne.’
‘Not me,’ Béa grunted as Shirl shepherded her towards the door. ‘Louis will tell me to stay in and rest. And all his shirts must be ironed, and I’ll have to cook him a big steak.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m not a good wife.’
Maxine closed the door as they all left and made her way towards the stairs. She was almost asleep on her feet.
There was nothing more she could do now, but she was still concerned about Béa. She’d seemed really anxious about going home.
Maxine hoped Béa would be all right. She’d ring Fliss tomorrow and talk about it. But things definitely didn’t feel as they should.
Something was wrong.