Chapter 36
Maxine and Jo were lost in their own thoughts as they scurried down the hill towards Clotilde’s, their hands in their pockets. It was almost dark now. Jo linked her arm through Maxine’s for warmth. They fell in step, walking more briskly. Maxine heard her friend sigh.
‘Thanks, Max – for everything.’
‘Pardon?’ Maxine’s head was filled with a new idea. She could drive to visit J-F now. It was only a short car journey. A mission of mercy. It wasn’t ten yet; it wasn’t too late. And truthfully, she wanted to see him.
‘Thanks for letting me stay in the cottage. I’ve met so many lovely people and – I’ve decided. I’m going to change.’
‘What into?’
‘The best version of myself.’ Jo laughed.
‘You’re fine as you are,’ Maxine said kindly, hugging the arm that was linked through hers. She made her mind up – she’d go. She hadn’t drunk any alcohol this evening. J-F needed a friend now. She’d drive over to his house and make sure that he was OK.
‘I was thinking,’ Jo began.
‘What about?’ Maxine tugged her thoughts from J-F and gave her friend her full attention.
‘Winnie the Pooh.’
‘Are you serious?’ Maxine couldn’t help laughing. ‘What about Winnie the Pooh?’
‘Well, I thought – what if I were a character from the Winnie the Pooh stories? Which one would I be? And who would you be?’
‘I wouldn’t be any of them – I’d be me.’ Maxine made a duh face.
‘But if you had to be one. Which one is most like you?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ Maxine thought for a moment, trying to play along with the game. ‘I suppose – Rabbit’s pragmatic, Owl’s wise. Kanga is nurturing. I’d be a bit of all of them. Why do you ask?’
‘You’re not bossy like Rabbit and you don’t make mistakes like Owl…’
‘Oh, I have done, believe me.’ Maxine said cynically. ‘Russell…’
‘You haven’t heard from him?’
‘No, thank goodness. I don’t think I will now.’
‘That’s good.’ Jo took a breath. ‘I’d be mortified if I ever saw him again.’
‘You won’t have to.’
‘But I was imagining having a conversation with Terry, back at home. If he rang me and let me come back. He loves literature. So I thought we’d talk about books. I’d start small – with A. A. Milne.’
‘Go on,’ Maxine said encouragingly.
‘Well, I think I’ve behaved with Russ like I’m a bear of very little brain – like Pooh. Because I felt small and insignificant like Piglet. Then it got to me, what I’d done, and I was melancholy and depressed – I was Eeyore…’
‘Gloomy?’ Maxine asked.
‘Exactly. Because I messed up so badly. But I’m going to become Tigger. Bouncy, full of energy. Embracing joy and spontaneity.’
‘But not too impetuous.’ Maxine smiled. ‘Maybe we’re both like Christopher Robin, thriving among friends, being loyal, learning all the time.’
‘Perhaps we are,’ Jo said. Then she smiled. ‘I still think you’re wise and sensible though.’ She seemed to be thinking. ‘Tell me about J-F. You like him, don’t you, Max?’
‘I do. I suppose he reminds me a bit of myself. We’ve both lost someone we loved.
But I hid my feelings for years and he hasn’t tried to.
That makes us two sides of the same coin, so in a way we’re both healing each other.
I was thinking, Jo – I might just drive over to his house and check he’s OK. ’
‘Now?’ Jo twisted towards her, astonished. ‘It’s late.’
‘It’s not too late.’
‘I’m exhausted – I want to go straight to bed.’
‘Would you mind if I went?’ Maxine glanced down the road. They had almost reached Clotilde’s.
‘Will you stay the night there?’
‘No.’ Maxine heard the determination in her voice.
She hadn’t thought of sleeping there. The cold sea breeze blew through her clothes and she shuddered and immediately asked herself why.
She thought of the drunken night of passion she’d shared with J-F and wondered what it might be like if they slept together again, both sober. What if she stayed over tonight?
The thought made her shiver again.
They walked down the drive towards the front door and Maxine couldn’t help glancing at the step. No flowers had been left there tonight. The mystery person hadn’t called.
Maxine wondered again who it might be…
She tugged the door ajar and Jo walked in, kicking off her shoes. ‘I’m totally shattered. Do you mind if I go straight up? It’s beach yoga tomorrow, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. I’ll tidy up a bit now, then I’ll drive straight to J-F’s. I won’t stay long, I just want to…’
Maxine felt her phone buzz in her pocket. It might be J-F.
Jo hugged her briefly. ‘Goodnight, Max.’
‘Night, Jo.’
Maxine watched as Jo shuffled towards the stairs, then she took out her phone and glanced eagerly at the message that had just come in.
Her blood froze. She stared at her phone, taking in the meaning of the words slowly, hardly believing what she read.
I have a surprise for you, Max. I bet you can’t guess where I am. R x
Maxine’s hand shook as she replied. Her heart thudded. He couldn’t be…
Where are you, Russell?
There was a pause, dots on the screen. Russell was typing. Then the new message popped up.
I just stopped the car and asked some ridiculous French man where Clotilde’s Cottage is and he pretended he couldn’t understand a word I said. I tried a local dive called The Shack but there was no one around. Where’s your house?
Maxine squeezed her phone too tightly, as if trying to prevent any more messages coming in.
He was here. In Plouvannec. It was her worst nightmare.
And it was well past ten. He’d expect to stay in the cottage.
With her.
Maxine made a low sound of determination. That wasn’t going to happen.
Russell was typing again, then a new message appeared.
Max, darling, I need directions please. I can’t keep driving up and down the bloody road by the beach. I’ve bought champagne. We can talk. Or maybe we can just make up for lost time… xx
Maxine felt her hand shake. The emotions that gripped her were disbelief. Anger. Fear. Then a hard resolve. She took a deep breath and typed a reply.
Stop by the beach, opposite Le Shack. I’ll come to you.
She reached for a warm jacket. She had no intention of being out in the cold for long though.
She’d wanted to drive to J-F’s house. She’d imagined them both sitting on a sofa, elbows touching, clutching coffee, and he’d talk about Noémie, she about Andy.
Then they’d move the conversation forward, make arrangements to meet. Then he’d take her hand.
Instead she’d have to battle emotions with Russell. She said aloud, ‘What the hell is he doing in Brittany?’ and she heard the strained disbelief in her voice. Plouvannec was her place. Her sanctuary. Her now.
Russell belonged in the past.
Maxine locked the door and whirled away, down the drive and towards the road. She felt like a fugitive in the night, sneaking off to a clandestine meeting with someone she shouldn’t be seeing.
That was how she felt now about Russell. Their past was tarnished. He’d been – what did J-F call it when he’d fallen off the wagon?
A blip.
There was a dark shadow by the sea wall, not too far away. A parked vehicle, headlights blazing. She recognised the car. She also recognised the driver, the firm shape of his head and shoulders, the upright way he sat in the car as if he’d chosen it, and her, and everything else he happened to own.
Maxine hurried forward. She wasn’t keen to see Russell, but she was very keen to get their meeting over with. She knew exactly what she’d say.
Russell had seen her. He opened the passenger door and she sidled in. The car was warm and it smelled of his aftershave, and she recoiled. In a flash she realised how little the time she’d spent with him meant to her.
What was the phrase Ayeesha had used at the restaurant?
He was a waste man.
Russell lurched over to kiss her lips, to wrap his arms around her as if she belonged to him. She pulled away.
‘Max, you look gorgeous. You’re tanned and beautiful. The sunshine suits you—’
‘Russ, you need to go home.’
He didn’t register the blow. He was all smiles. ‘With you? Back to our home in London?’
‘No. Why did you come here?’
‘You know why.’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘Max, I love you.’
‘I’m only staying for a minute, Russ,’ Maxine said. ‘You have to go back to the ferry port.’
‘I’ve come to save our relationship. To bring you home.’
‘No.’
‘Or we can go somewhere else – anywhere you like. We could drive off to the south of France. Somewhere classy. Not some crummy run-down Breton seaside town.’
‘Russell.’ Maxine faced him. ‘I want you to go. This is my holiday. My time.’ She raised her voice. ‘My life. There’s no place in it for you.’
‘But you’re wrong.’ Russell’s voice was syrup smooth. The smile was back. ‘You do love me. Only you can’t see it. You’re still angry because I made a silly mistake with your friend.’
‘Don’t you dare.’ Maxine felt her face strain in anger.
Russell took her hand and cradled it in both his. ‘I can’t lose you.’
‘I’m not yours to keep or lose.’ Maxine pulled it away sharply. ‘You know it’s over between us. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear from you.’
‘You’re bitter, Max.’ Russell’s lips curled in judgement.
‘I’m not bitter at all.’ Maxine heard how calm her voice was.
‘Right. This is what’s going to happen. I’m going to go back to my cottage, and I’ll spend the rest of my holiday by myself.
’ She thought briefly of Jo – she’d be mortified if she knew Russell was parked just yards from their gate.
‘Alone,’ she said, for emphasis. ‘And you’re going to turn around and drive to the nearest town and find yourself a hotel for the night.
Then tomorrow you’ll go back to London. Or wherever you like. It’s not up to me where you go.’
‘Max, no…’ Russell put on his most pleading, pained face. ‘You don’t mean it. You’re still confused and angry.’
‘I’ve never been calmer,’ Maxine replied sweetly.
‘I’m going back now, and I’m going to lock the door.
Then I’ll delete your number from my phone – and if you call again, I’ll block you.
And Russ…’ She delivered her parting shot in a whisper.
‘I don’t want to see you again. If you follow me, I’ll call the police and say I’m being harassed.
It’s over. Please don’t make me have to spell it out again. ’
Russell blinked as if stunned. Maxine thought of Owl in Winnie the Pooh and tried not to smile. He made a sad face and she thought of Eeyore. But it didn’t amuse her, not really. She felt no sense of triumph.
That was it now – she had to go.
‘Goodbye. Good luck, Russ.’ She pushed the door open and walked smartly away, hearing the sound of her feet padding softly on the pavement.
He was still there, watching her, the engine idling. But she wouldn’t turn round, she wouldn’t look back.
As she walked into the drive, she was aware of swerving lights behind her and the roar of a car engine. He’d turned round and driven off in the opposite direction.
Russell had gone.
Maxine decided that she wouldn’t mention anything about what had happened to Jo. Nor would she think about it herself again.
Russell was in the past.
It was late now. Too late to visit J-F. But she’d go home, shower, curl up in bed and think about him. About how she felt.
She missed J-F, their conversations, their closeness, their friendship.
She felt her skin tingle and she shivered again, just as she had earlier when she’d thought about the night they’d spent together. It was a strange new frisson of anticipation. It felt good.
Maxine pulled out the keys to Clotilde’s Cottage and went inside. She locked the door and turned off the lights, making her way upstairs.
Tomorrow was another day. A bright new one. Bring it on.