CHAPTER 21
Carine squeals when I tell her the plan on the phone the next morning.
‘We’re on our way to the brocante now, to sort things out.’
‘And Fabien?’
I chew my lip. ‘We didn’t have time to talk last night. He was at a noisy festival but I texted and asked if I could use the brocante. He said, “Anything.” I hope he doesn’t mind. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.’
‘Fabien will think this is a fabulous idea. You can send him photographs when everything is set up.’
We all walk down towards the town, past the riverside clearing, all except Marco. Samuel is there on his own.
‘Bonjour, Samuel.’
‘Bonjour! How are you?’
‘Good,’ I reply. ‘How are things here?’ So much rubbish on the ground, the debris of a lively night.
His mouth pulls downwards. ‘Not so good.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say.
‘There’s people here who’d come to rely on Henri’s for their evening meal. It’s hard for them, especially now this place isn’t what it was. They don’t know where to go.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say again. It wasn’t just me who was relying on the bistro.
‘I wish I could help. I feel useless here,’ he says.
‘Actually, Samuel, I have the lavender harvest going on. If you or any of the other regulars wanted to help out … I can’t pay, but I can guarantee a home-cooked meal at the end of the day. Not made by me, but the other pickers staying. Everyone is pitching in and it’s wonderful.’
He looks at me.
‘Don’t decide now. But if you want to, join us at Le Petit Mas.’
He nods, and I have no idea if that means he will or he won’t. ‘Merci,’ he says.
I leave him to his thoughts.
We walk on towards the brocante – I pause at the alleyway to the bistro. It’s almost as if your husband has a new younger lover and has moved her into your life. She’s changed everything and it hurts. I think back to when Ollie left me for his lover and went back to our old life, where I used to belong. But the happier I became here, the less I worried about what I’d lost when he’d gone. I have to recreate here what we had at Henri’s to make Zacharie realize we need Henri’s at the heart of the town.
I turn to the big cream gates, rusting in parts. JB is there to meet us with a big grin, his arms folded across his chest.
‘So, Stephanie told you the idea?’
‘She did!’ he says, unusually animated.
‘What do you think?’
‘If it’s okay with Fabien, then it’s fine by me! Sounds like a great idea,’ he says, beckoning us all into the brocante’s courtyard.
‘It’s perfect,’ says Maria, who has been quiet since Marco refused to join us on our reconnaissance mission to the brocante and was suggesting they move on. Now, though, it’s a joy to see her face lit up as she glances around the courtyard and the warehouse, piled high with second-hand treasures. It’s hard to see what anything is, unless you know what you’re looking for. Fabien found all the essentials I needed for Le Petit Mas when I first discovered this place. He collected them together, made me coffee and gave me an excellent price. Even delivered them as I was still contemplating my next move and showing some second-home owners around the property with Carine. It was there and then I made the decision to stay, to make Le Petit Mas my home. And I don’t intend to leave. I’m not going to let Zacharie push me out by taking away my business. The brocante is helping to save me all over again and I intend to do it justice.
‘Okay, let’s get started, shall we?’ I say, studying the crammed warehouse and trying to work out where everything should go.
‘Look at that lovely candlestick,’ says Keith, who is straight into the dark recesses of the space. ‘And this rug! We could go vintage, mix and match plates. Oooh, my auntie used to have doilies like these.’
I see Graham smile. ‘He’s happiest creating a home,’ he says quietly. ‘Hang on, my love, let me help,’ he says, as Keith inspects the piles of tables and chairs, clearly planning to unpack them.
‘I’m thinking we could go for a front-room feeling. Like when you visit family. Rugs, lamps, teacups … and look at all these glasses. They’ll polish up beautifully,’ Keith calls.
‘And some bunting,’ says Jen. ‘Bunting makes everything better,’ she cries, as she joins in the scavenger hunt. JB is helping to reach higher-up tables and chairs, and Keith has moved on to tennis racquets to create the feel of an afternoon turned evening by the river. He finds boules sets and a box of board games.
‘What should I do?’ asks Ed.
‘Work out where to serve the food from? Create a serving area? There’s a small kitchenette in the office,’ I say. ‘Or we could barbecue in the open air. We can bring the one from Le Petit Mas. See what would be best for you.’
He nods. ‘Maria? Coming?’
I swear I see a touch of pink in her cheeks.
And there in the courtyard, as we rummage through boxes of cutlery, unwrap glasses from newspaper, and Jen irons napkins among the tables and chairs that Keith and Graham are setting out, our first supper party starts to come together. And I need it to happen quickly if I’m to get money in to cover our costs.
As the sun starts to set, the brocante has become a festive outdoor dining room, comfortable and cosy. Carine turns up to check on progress. ‘This looks great!’
Keith places a mirror against the stone wall, which adds warmth, like a fireplace, as the sun bounces off it, giving a focal point to that end of the courtyard. It stands next to the chestnut tree, which now has bunting hanging from it.
‘I have something for you,’ Carine says. ‘Come with me.’ She walks towards her car, parked by the gates, and opens the boot. ‘I found it in the skip at the bistro as they were clearing out the upstairs to make more seating there. I didn’t know if you’d want it or not. As you know, I’m not one for clutter.’
She reaches into her car and from the back seat pulls out the sign that once swung from outside Henri’s living-room window.
‘Of course I want it!’ I shout. The blood rushes to my head and I don’t know which to hug first, her or the sign.
‘So, tomorrow is your first night?’ she asks.
‘It could be our only night if no one comes,’ I say.
‘They will come,’ she says confidently.
The brocante courtyard is beautiful. I take some pictures on my phone.
‘Get it across social media,’ says Carine.
‘Let me help.’ Jen takes my phone. Her thumbs work fast for a few moments. Then she hands it back to me. ‘There!’
‘Wow! That was quick!’
‘I wish! Young people are so much better at it, with nimbler fingers than mine. I’m a dinosaur, a slow one trying to keep up with the pack.’
I hear a ping and JB takes out his phone. Then there’s another: Carine’s. They both start typing.
‘Shared!’ Carine beams.
‘Done!’ says JB.
A warm sensation fills me. Maybe, just maybe, this will work.
Later, back at the farmhouse, I check my phone. There are lots of likes and comments on the brocante. We’re ready for tomorrow night, the big event. I go to bed and fall asleep.
Damn! I missed a call from Fabien last night. I call him back but it goes straight to voicemail. It’s early morning and I know he’s probably not awake yet. He called me late last night. I’ll ring him after the supper club, tell him how it went. I carry on mindlessly scrolling through Facebook, as I wonder about tonight’s event.
And then I see a picture Fabien has posted of him and the band. At first it makes me smile. Then I look closer. The woman, with blonde hair and cowboy boots, short skirt and tight white T-shirt, has her arm firmly around Fabien’s waist and is leaning in to him. She must be Monique.
My hackles rise. I have no idea why. She’s just an old friend. But she’s there with him, when I want him to be here with me. I know that if I carry on like this, I’ll drive him away.
Outside, by the barn, Samuel is waiting with two others.
‘Is it okay?’ he asks tentatively.
‘Of course! We need all the help we can get, what with our supper club starting at the brocante this evening.’
They smile and I show them where to leave their bags, then the outdoor kitchen. I take them to the shed for secateurs and show them how to cut.
I spend the next couple of hours out on the field, cutting and gathering lavender. As the sun rises high in the sky, I call time on the picking. And as we go from the field to our showers, it can mean only one thing. It’s time to get ready for tonight’s supper club.
Jen and Maria are back from the market. They’ve been shopping and handing out leaflets for the supper club with lavender biscuits that Stephanie has made. Stephanie takes leaflets with her on her morning rounds and Keith has joined her to help – with little Louis more than anything.
Jen has made a Facebook page for Henri’s pop-up restaurant and there are lots of likes and comments. ‘We met so many people who wanted to talk about the food,’ Jen says excitedly, when she and Maria get back from town. ‘And they loved the biscuits! I must tell Stephanie.’
‘I have to let Marco know I’m back,’ says Maria, and heads towards the accommodation barn.
‘He said he was coming to town to find you,’ I tell her. ‘Just as I went to meet the bakery van. Said he wasn’t up for working in the field today. I presumed he was coming to help you. Didn’t you see him?’
She frowns. Then, her excitement seeping away, she stares at her phone. We watch and say nothing.
She reaches out a hand. Rhi and I move forward to catch her arms as she wavers and guide her to sit on one of the chairs on the terrace. Jen grabs a glass, fills it with water and puts it in front of her. I think we all know what’s coming.
‘He’s gone.’ She lets out a long sigh and drops her hands with her phone into her lap.
We suck in our breath.
‘We had a row last night that was still going on this morning. He wanted to move on. I wanted to stay for the supper club. He said he’d go anyway. I didn’t believe him. I didn’t think he’d really go without me. But he has.’
None of us knows what to say. I put a hand on her shoulder.
Ed runs in from the outdoor kitchen. ‘There’s a food blogger, Lulu Likes. She’s in the area and has seen the Facebook page. She’s coming to eat tonight! At Henri’s pop-up!’
We’re all momentarily distracted from Maria. Suddenly the pop-up feels real for the first time. We’re doing it.
I look at my phone. ‘He’s right!’
‘There’s loads of interest,’ he adds.
‘Perhaps we should have done a booking system,’ I say.
‘Well, we didn’t know. We’ll just have to find more chairs.’
‘And make more bouillabaisse,’ says Maria, distracted as well.
‘Are you sure?’ I ask. ‘If you need to go after him …’
‘It looks like I’m needed here. He’ll have to come back and find me if he wants me.’
‘If you want him,’ says Jen.
And I see Maria snatch another look at Ed.
‘It’s okay to realize something isn’t right, y’know,’ Jen continues. ‘I wish I’d had the guts to understand that. I should have tried to go back to my first husband, tried to find a way to make it work, not keep going with a relationship that was making me unhappy until it was too late. He left me, and my first husband had moved on. There was no way back. It’s okay for it not to be okay,’ she says.
We surround Maria in a group hug.
‘I’m not going anywhere right now,’ she says.
‘I’m not sure we could have done this without you,’ I say.
‘You would have. You have Jen and Ed.’ She sniffs.
‘We have a supper club to prepare for.’ Keith has rallied.
And with that, Maria stands. ‘Actually, there’s something I’d like to say.’
We hold our breath.
‘I came here, travelling to find out who I was … where my roots are. But it’s not about where your roots are, it’s where you choose to put them, isn’t it? Since I’ve been cooking here, it’s like my wings were hidden and now I’ve found them. It’s not about a place I want to be, maybe just about being me.’
We hug her again and head into the kitchen to prepare our ingredients. Graham and Keith are heading down to the brocante. Before they leave, Keith says, ‘He’ll come back. He’d be a fool not to.’
‘I think maybe I was a fool, kidding myself we still had a life together. We’ve become different people – well, I have. I was just too busy trying to find myself to realize it. Now, let’s get cooking,’ says Maria, with a smile and a hug from Keith. They move as one to the kitchen.
‘You know your side dish? I think you could lose some ingredients,’ Jen says softly to Maria. I’ve never seen Jen like that: it’s as if she’s leading from behind. I love it. ‘Keep it simple. Just let it be you,’ she says.
I hold my breath, hoping she hasn’t scared Maria off, making her decide to chase after Marco.
‘Just be me?’ Maria wonders.
Jen nods. ‘Beautiful, just the way you are. You don’t need to try so hard,’ she tells her and Maria gives a wider smile. I allow myself to breathe again.