Chapter 40
I ’m preparing to close the boulangerie at the end of the day and it’s really hot. The air feels thick and heavy, and I have the day’s takings in my bag, slung across my shoulder.
‘Now, go home and change. It’s the village dinner this evening and I’m taking you as my guest,’ Laurent says firmly. ‘You could do with a night to enjoy yourself. Everyone will be there and you’re part of this village now. They’re expecting you. We can celebrate your profits!’
‘But what about Aimée, from the mairie ? Won’t she be hoping you’ll take her?’
He shakes his head. ‘Despite what you might have heard, I am not someone who wants a fling, a relationship because it is convenient. Aimée knows that. Besides, she and Claude were in a relationship for a long time. She is a very bad judge of character.’
‘While he was married?’
He nods. ‘When I find someone I want to be with, I will give my whole heart. I firmly believe that if you find the right person, you feel seen every day.’
He looks at me and our fingertips touch. I shiver with the passion of his words and the ridiculous hope that maybe that person could be me. To feel like this, to feel really seen by one person, the right person … like no one else can see us at all.
‘ Alors …’ says Madame B, coming out of the kitchen, pulling off her apron and pushing her fingers through her soft quiff.
‘Time to change. Then time to raise a glass to the boulangerie ’s success.
I have the bread ready for the meal. Oh, and I’ve been trying out some other loaves.
Next week we can start offering different types of bread as well as the baguette. ’
Laurent and I turn to her. She is oblivious to the moment that has just passed between us. We give each other a shy smile and I wish we could talk more.
‘Come on, let’s celebrate,’ he says, opening the boulangerie door and ushering us out with Bibi.
I’m on cloud nine. Happier than I’ve felt in a very long time. Laurent’s right; it’s time to celebrate. It’s been a really good week in the bread van. The money has been banked and I’m ready to meet the mayor.
‘Okay. I’ll go back and change. Meet you back here,’ I tell him. ‘Give me twenty minutes.’ It’s all I can do not to lean in and kiss him. But I don’t, despite the slow burn building inside me.
The dough is ready for the morning and I’ve even made more mini Victoria Sandwich cakes to take on the van tomorrow.
I have plans for the front window of the boulangerie now that the netting is down, and dressing the table with some flowers.
Everything is ready. Mise en place . Madame B has worked so hard to keep up with my plans.
And I am a little worried that she must be exhausted.
As I leave the bakery, I take in the tables under the plane trees that have been laid with plates, glasses, water jugs and cutlery.
The corners of their cloths flick up and flap in the warm wind.
Smartly dressed villagers are already arriving in the square.
I spot Gilles with his wife. He’s carrying a covered dish and a bottle of wine, and she smiles as they greet Hubert and Gabrielle, then Eric and Béatrice.
Madame B’s bike is parked in front of the boulangerie , and someone has put a red geranium in its basket.
I think it looks very in keeping and should stay there.
I turn towards the bakery van and see a figure standing beside it in the shadows.
It takes me a moment to recognise who it is.
But then I see it’s Claude’s wife, Vivianne. She looks anxious.
‘ Bonjour, Madame. Is everything okay with you?’
She is holding her hands together, wringing them. ‘It’s Claude,’ she says, worry etched on her face. ‘He’s gone to the mill. He …’ she swallows hard ‘… he means to do damage.’
‘To the mill?’
She nods. Tears are pricking her eyes.
‘I went back to the house to pick up my belongings. He is consumed with fury. He never believed I would leave and thinks I am ruining his reputation at the bakery. People have stopped coming. The bread is not like it was when I was there helping him – customers have told me. And he blames you, too – says you are taking what is his, the customers. We had a row. I told him he had done this to himself. He hates to be wrong or challenged in any way. He knows that everyone will be at the village dinner this evening.’
I grapple for the keys to the van and climb into Dolly as I hear thunder rumbling in the distance. Raindrops begin to fall.
‘Laurent, I’m going to the mill!’ I call over the ominous sound of the sky and people hurrying to shelter beneath the trees.
‘It’s raining!’ someone calls.
‘ C’est dommage! ’ says someone else.
‘Where shall we go?’ I hear.
‘Bring the plates and food,’ says one of the women.
‘They’re going to the old mill!’ I hear someone call.
‘To the mill, out of the rain, everyone!’ another shouts.
The van roars into life and I push it into gear. Dolly jolts, then gathers, and I set off.
The first thing I see when I arrive is Claude’s white van.
I jump out and run up the grassy drive, up the slope, slipping in my eagerness to get there, falling forwards on my hands.
I stand and hurry up the rest of the slope and onto the lawn, where I see Claude standing by the water wheel.
He’s holding the handle to the sluice gate and it’s clear he intends to close it. He’s going to flood the mill.
‘Stop! Arrêt! ’ I shout.
‘Ah, so you’ve come to save the mill. Or maybe it is Laurent you want to protect, and save his family’s reputation. The family who are known for their women leaving them for something far better on offer.’
‘That’s not true. He is a good man. Better than you will ever be.’
‘You still owe me. You have stolen my customers and the debt is going up.’ He holds the sluice gate poised to drop it into position as the rain continues to fall in fat, heavy drops, rolling down my face and back. There’s a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder.
‘I’m not paying you, Claude. You’re not getting a single euro out of me.’
‘From what I understand, you’re making quite a profit from the bakery van.’
‘I need that money. I’m not paying you!’ I say, as another clap of thunder crashes out, making me jump.
‘There is only room for one baker around here. And it won’t be you.’
He goes to close the sluice gate. My heart lurches.
‘Stop! Okay,’ I raise my hands. ‘I’ll leave. If that’s what it takes. Close the boulangerie . I’ll do whatever it takes. Just leave the mill alone.’
I take in what I’ve just said in desperation. I’ll leave. But I don’t want Laurent to lose the mill again.
Claude sneers at me. ‘You think I can leave the mill like this, so your boyfriend can carry on here, and your baker can keep on baking? You’ve taken everything that matters to me, Julie.’
‘It’s Juliet ,’ I say, knowing he misnames me on purpose.
‘Well, Juliet , as I said, there is only room for one baker around here. And it will continue to be me.’
He lifts his hand to turn the sluice-gate wheel as an arm reaches out across my shoulder. Again, I don’t need to turn to know it’s Laurent. My heart is thundering and rain is starting to hit and run down my face.
‘I wouldn’t touch me, if I were you. This mill needs to stay decommissioned,’ shouts Claude.
‘Not on my watch!’ Laurent growls. His hair is wet, his face angry and set. ‘Go and crawl back under whatever rock you came out from, Claude. You and your family won’t just help yourselves to whatever you want around here any more.’
‘Really?’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘From where I’m standing, everything is being offered on a plate! Just like your grandmother, the women in your life always did prefer the Guiomar men.’
Behind me I can hear a crowd of people arriving at the mill, bottles chinking, cutlery and crockery being carried too.
‘Shall we go inside?’ someone asks.
‘Laurent? Shall we go in?’ calls Gilles, as the locals gather around the front door. But Laurent is too focused on Claude to hear him.
‘Just leave, Claude,’ Laurent growls.
‘Not until you know the truth about your new lady friend.’
I turn to Laurent in panic. Claude is determined to hurt him. I have to say something before Claude does and Laurent discovers I’ve been keeping a secret. And I know this is really the end now. I’ll be leaving. Laurent won’t want to be around me after this.
‘Claude and me, we kissed!’ I suddenly blurt out. ‘ He kissed me – it was a moment of stupidity.’
There is a clap of thunder, a flash of lightning and a group intake of breath. No one says anything.
‘I didn’t know he …’ but I stop. It’s useless trying to explain or excuse my behaviour.
It was a moment of stupidity, but it’s also the truth.
And now I know that I have broken Laurent’s trust. I kissed the man he hates for ruining the thing he loved most: his family.
And now I’ve done the same. I’ve let myself fall in love with Laurent, and from what I see, I think the feeling is reciprocated …
but I realise I’ve crushed whatever we had by letting history repeat itself.
And I know there will be no way to put it back to how it was.
Laurent stares at Claude as if he’d like to kill him. Then, in a low, hard, cold voice, he says, ‘You’re not worth it.’ He drops his hand, turns and walks away in the pouring rain, the wheel turning and turning.
I glare at Claude and narrow my eyes. ‘Happy now? Got what you wanted?’
‘I will do when I have your takings from today. You took my customers, remember? I’m owed.’
I pull the bag of coins out of my bag and throw it at his feet.
‘Here, have the lot! ‘
He bends and picks up the money bag. ‘ Merci .’ He lets go of the sluice-gate handle and the water continues to flow, its path uninterrupted. The mill is safe, for now.