Page 18 of The Village Cafe in the Loire

‘OK. Well,au revoir,madame,’ he said, his tone still questioning.

She eyed his laptop. Her fingers twitched slightly. But she managed to keep control of herself. It definitely would not help to go causing criminal damage in the town hall on her first day. Instead, she stood up, thanked him through gritted teeth and pushed her way out of his office, across the reception area and out into the sunny street.

7

‘Hello, Mum!’ she said brightly, newly ensconced in her room after her humiliating rendezvous with the mayor. ‘How are you?’

‘Why is the line crackling, Rebecca? Whereareyou?’ Her mum’s instincts were wasted in her job; she should have become a detective inspector.

‘I’m… well, I’m – look, don’t get mad.’

This was a red rag to a bull moment. ‘Mad! Piffle! I’ll have whatever emotions I choose, young lady. And I’m assuming by your reluctance to tell me that you’ve gone to France. Am I right?’

‘Well, yes, but?—’

Her next words were drowned out by a breathy snort. ‘Oh, Rebecca! That’s the last thing you need.’

‘I’m sorry. I just… well, I think it’s the best thing, Mum. I want to sort this ridiculous legal business out and it’s always easier to do things in person, don’t you think?’

‘Hmm,’ her mother said. And the one syllable expression said more than a thousand words could have. Mother wasn’t pleased.

‘Well,’ Becky stuttered slightly, then regained herself. She was a fully grown woman, and while her mum was a forbiddingcharacter, they did still love each other. Mum wanted what was best, that was all – she was just worried. ‘I’ve already had a meeting with themaireabout the legality of the… situation.’

This seemed to perk her mum up a little. ‘Oh really?’ she said. ‘Well, I’m impressed. And was it productive?’

‘Um. He certainly seemed sympathetic.’

‘Good. Well, that’s a start. And when are you home?’

Becky scrunched up her face. ‘Um, not sure yet,’ she said.

‘Well, don’t hang about too long. Best to be in the thick of it. Relaxing is overrated,’ her mum said.

‘Sorry, what?’

‘Relaxing. People seem obsessed with it these days. But really, how does one get anything done?’

‘Mum, it’s OK to relax a bit sometimes.’

‘Yes, of course! At a class, or coffee with a friend. But that place…’ Mum paused, selecting the right words. ‘Mark my words: it gets into your blood if you’re not careful. It did for Maud, and I’d hate you to go the same way.’

‘Mum, I am not going to go the same way, whatever way that is. I’m getting out of here as soon as I can.’

‘Good. Good.’

The relief over the phone was palpable, but confusing. Why did her mum so desperately want her to leave? It wasn’t that she could get back to work; and Maud was no longer here to influence her.

‘Is that why you fell out?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Is that why you argued with Maud all those years ago? You thought she was… relaxing too much?’

‘Of course not! Live and let live. It was the effect she was having on you. And your father, actually. You seemed… different when we were there. And she filled your heads with all sorts of thoughts about education. You told me that “school wasn’teverything” and being happy was more important than being clever. Which is all very well for people who aren’t clever to say. But you? You were bright as a button – still are. And I didn’t want you to waste all that potential.’

‘You fell out over me?’

‘Not solely. If I’m honest, the rift happened years before. When she left. Of course we made our peace, but things weren’t perfect after that. There was always… hurt. Then we rowed over some of the things she was filling your mind with, and other things came out… you know how it is. Daddy and I cancelled our trip the following year and I suppose… well, after a while it was just easier not to stay in touch.’

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