Chapter 40 #2
Claude steps forward and brushes past me. ‘Enjoy your dinner. Bon appétit . Looks like it could be your leaving party!’ As he leaves, I see Madame B looking at me, as is everyone else, clearly happy to see the back of Claude. She ushers them quickly into the mill and out of the rain.
I follow, trying to hide my embarrassment and my pain by slipping on a smile and making sure everyone is okay.
‘Come in, come in. Let’s find you all somewhere to sit,’ I say as they enter.
I see them all admiring the clean, whitewashed walls and polished workings of the millstones – Laurent’s passion, his pride and joy.
The villagers happily throng out of the rain, seemingly having forgotten the scene outside, but I know I’ve ruined everything with Laurent and now, even if there was a way to get my visa, I can’t bear to stay.
Even if I was to explain to him that Claude kissed me and I was flattered by the attention, before I realised what kind of man he was, I’m not sure things would ever go back to how they were.
I don’t think I could bear to see him every day, thinking about what might have been.
I hear more cars pulling up outside, and it’s the fisherwomen, arriving with the tables and chairs from the square. ‘I can bring the rest in the van,’ I say, and grab the keys. I drive up to the square, looking for Laurent through the rain, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
When I get back, everyone helps unload the tables and chairs, and lays out the food in the dishes they’ve all brought.
We’re in the big room of the mill and, all of a sudden, I can see exactly how this place would have looked if it had become the salon de thé .
There is excited chatter as the food is served, and the bread that Madame B has brought from the boulangerie is put out along the tables.
Plates are laid out, with platters of cheese, cold meats and big green salads. There are desserts too: the chocolate and beetroot brownies I’ve made, and mini Victoria Sandwich cakes, as well as a tarte aux pommes with bowls of crème fra?che on a table in front of the window overlooking the lake.
Bertrand, the mayor, has arrived, beaming and soaking up the atmosphere in the big room, as are the fisherwomen with their partners, parents and children.
Madame B is smiling, and I think it may be because she’s in her happy place, with her memories of the man she loved, even if he couldn’t love her back.
I think of what Laurent said, back when we were first getting to know each other: They say that if you throw yourself into what you love doing, you’ll end up finding yourself there .
Laurent loves this place. The mill, the lake, the swimming hole – where he always went when he needed to think.
And at that moment, I realise that’s where he’ll be.
I need to explain to him that I didn’t kiss Claude and then hide it from him on purpose.
Well, I did hide it from him, but only because when I realised I had feelings for him, I knew it was the one thing I couldn’t bear to have him know.
It was just part of my journey … albeit a very bumpy part.
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ I tell Madame B. ‘Keep things going here. It’s wonderful.’ I look around at the lit fire and the smiling faces.
I head out to the lakeside and the canoe, grabbing hold of it and tipping it on its side to let out any water. Laurent said the only way to get to the swimming hole was by boat. But the last time I tried to face my fear of being on the water, we nearly capsized.
I stare at the now-empty canoe. I have to do this!
I need to find him and explain that what happened with Claude was when I wanted to feel seen.
And now I realise what I really needed was to feel like me …
and let other people see the real me. I stretch out a leg and move my weight from my back foot to the front and step in the canoe – well, more stumble forwards.
‘Oh, my word, oh, my word,’ I say, as the boat wobbles this way and that on the swollen lake.
I grab the sides and sit down quickly, remembering Laurent’s words: Keep paddling .
I lean forward, unhook the canoe from its mooring, then sit down again in the middle, the whole thing jiggling under me.
I pull out the paddle, dip it into the water and pull back, then change sides.
Soon, I’m starting to make headway. Keep paddling , I tell myself, or you’ll go under. Keep doing it.
By the time I reach the swimming hole, my arms are aching.
I have to tell him I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause him any hurt or embarrassment.
I look around, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
I drop the paddle into the boat and put my head into my hands.
The boat rocks from side to side and, right now, I don’t care if I capsize.
I’m exhausted. I’ve tried everything to make things work here. Then I hear a voice.
‘The last time you took to the water, you nearly drowned me! Left me in the middle of the lake. Have you come to finish the job?’
I look up. He’s wet and pulling on his shirt, which clings to him.
He’s clearly getting dressed after a swim.
I swallow, wishing I wasn’t so attracted to him – not just because of his good looks, but his kindness, trustworthiness and loyalty to the village, the mill, the people …
and, more recently, to me. I hurt him. I fell for the fake charms of the one man he has always mistrusted and disliked.
I did the one thing that would hurt him most.
‘I thought you might have gone. Left …’ I say. ‘I’ve ruined everything. I gave Claude my money bag.’
He shakes his head. ‘That man has a way of getting what he wants.’
‘Yes, without my earnings, I’ll have to leave anyway. But, regardless of the visa situation, I couldn’t bear to hurt you any more than I have by staying around. The mill will be sold.’
He nods in understanding, his dark hair clinging to the back of his shirt, rivulets of water sticking the cotton to his skin.
Then I say gently, ‘I’ll sell the mill to you, if that’s what you want. You can have first refusal, just as the mayor originally promised. Could you raise the funds now, do you think?’
Laurent laughs. ‘What money I had went on buying the bakery van.’
‘What? That was you? There wasn’t really an old man with outstanding debts?’
He shakes his head.
‘But why?’
‘Because I wanted you to have it. I wanted this to work. You at the bakery, me at the mill.’
‘Getting one over on Claude?’
He nods.
‘Maybe we’d both become obsessed on that front. I wanted to hurt him,’ I say. ‘I felt foolish after he kissed me, and then I found out he was married.’
‘Ah, for me it was about the past, his family trying to destroy mine.’
‘What will you do? Leave too? Now that the mill will be sold.’
‘I thought about it.’ He’s gazing straight ahead into the woods. ‘But then I came here.’ He waves at the canoe. ‘Throw me the rope,’ he says, holding out a hand.
I toss it to him and he catches it effortlessly, then pulls the canoe towards the bank with me clinging to the sides.
Once he’s secured it to a nearby tree trunk, I crawl across the seats to the side.
He pulls me out and onto the bank, and I fall forwards, wishing my treacherous heart would stop thumping.
Then he manages a smile. ‘You actually did that, got all the way up here on your own! Kept paddling.’
‘I know what you must think of me,’ I say.
And then I see it. The rain has stopped and the flash of blue from the kingfishers darts across the lake.
‘I’ll miss them,’ I whisper. ‘And I can only imagine how hard this will be for you.’
‘It’s like history repeating itself,’ he says, sitting on a large rock, watching the kingfishers.
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘Claude has all the power. He always has. You shouldn’t have paid him.’
‘I thought he would leave the mill alone. I hoped you could still run it if he went away.’
‘And now you’ve paid him off, you can’t stay?’ he adds.
I shake my head. The rain has stopped and drops of water on the leaves above us occasionally fall.
‘I can’t show the profit I made without that money.
It’s not enough. The business had to make a profit.
I need to deposit it in the bank and for it to show there.
I thought he would go and you could take over the mill.
That you’d still be able to keep doing this. But …’
Now it’s his turn to shake his head.
‘I can’t. I don’t have the finances any more.’
We both look out over the water, watching the flashes of blue.
‘So now what?’
‘Go back, I suppose. To where I came from. Disappear into the life I had as if none of this had ever happened. Chalk it up as some mad Shirley Valentine adventure that didn’t have its happy-ever-after.’
We fall silent.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, finally.
‘I’m sorry too. I wish this could have worked out for you, for us. Madame B was right. Other people have tried to make that bakery work. Why should I be any different? Claude clearly means to intimidate anyone who takes it over and get them to leave, one way or another.’
We can hear music in the distance. The mayor must have put his record player on. I can just imagine people dancing. The mill sounds as I hoped it would on Sunday afternoons – full of people enjoying a tea dance.
‘You deserved a fair shot at this,’ Laurent says.
‘I made my own mistakes. I guess I’m paying for them.’
‘No. You’re paying for the mistakes of the past. It has to stop somewhere. We can’t let that family keep ruling our village – who we buy bread from, who we fall in love with …’
He stares at me and I stare at him, wondering if I’ve heard him correctly.
‘I …’
‘Ssh, say nothing,’ he says, putting his fingers to my lips. Then he leans in: ‘Is this okay?’
I nod. More than okay!
He kisses me, softly at first, then more intensely, and my senses go through the roof.
I pull back. ‘I don’t want you to think I make a habit of doing this,’ I say with a smile.
‘Like I say, we all make mistakes. I should know. My mistakes have never left me or let me move on. I was so cross when you bought the mill. I thought you were going to rip the heart out of it, paint over the memories, my memories. I couldn’t move on from the past …
It was me who left the first baguette on your doorstep. ’
I recoil. ‘You?’ I say, standing up from the rock.
‘I thought you might leave. That I’d still be able to get the mill. But this place is nothing without you … without you pulling us all together.’
‘You wanted me to go that badly?’
‘Then I did, but not now.’
I sit down again. I can’t believe it. This isn’t the Laurent I’ve come to know.
Leaving an upside-down baguette is a sinister act that I might have expected from Claude, but not Laurent.
I had come to trust him, but now he’s crushed all of that, all of the feelings I had for him.
The tears well in my eyes. My voice wobbles and I try to steady it and speak slowly, but a slight quiver betrays me as I say, ‘Well, you’ve got what you wanted all along. I’ll be leaving.’
I turn to go. He doesn’t move.
‘You know,’ he says then, stopping me in my tracks, ‘they say that seeing kingfishers is good luck. It’s a sign of a new beginning.’
‘I hope so.’ I turn away again, tears rolling down my face, feeling foolish and betrayed. ‘Good luck, Laurent.’