Page 22 of The Village Cafe in the Loire

‘What?’ she said, when he hadn’t spoken for an unbearable minute.

He shrugged, took a sip of his wine. ‘To me, this seems like a lot of work. I think your aunt was just hoping you would learn to use the coffee machine, get a feel for the ambience of the place. Explore Vaudrelle.’

‘Yes, I realise that. And I’m sorry, but she was totally misguided. Well-meaning, but misguided,’ she corrected. ‘I’m a doer. I like to be busy. And I’m not going to slack off because of some letter. I need to get value out of this visit, then get home. My whole life is in the UK.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Your whole life? You have a big family? A husband?’

‘No. My mother is there.’

‘Ah, your mother is your whole life,’ he raised a glass to her. ‘This is a very sweet thing.’

‘No!’ she almost barked, feeling her face heat up. ‘My mother isnotmy whole life. I just mean, she’s my… well, I suppose I mean she’s my only family.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Pascal frowned. ‘It is just when you said it was your whole life, I thought you must have very many people who are waiting for you back home.’

‘No. No one really. But… Just… well, my work – I’m pretty essential in my job,’ she said.

‘Oh, you have an important job? You are a doctor perhaps?’

‘No. I’m… I work in advertising. But I don’t just mean my job.’

Pascal nodded as if he were expecting this statement to be the start of a long list of important things she had back home. ‘Um, and there’s my friend, Amber.’ She found herself smiling. ‘We’ve been friends since we were five. She’s like a sister to me.’

The nodding continued. Becky found herself racking her brain for more to add to the list. ‘And I go to a pretty good spin class on Wednesdays,’ she finished weakly.

Pascal’s mouth made a brief downward inflection. ‘I see,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

‘No, you made a face. What are you suggesting?’

‘No, it was not a face.’ Pascal seemed confused. ‘It was just my face. I am not sure what you mean.’

‘You were judging me! OK, so I don’t have a partner or children, or a place of my own, or many… many friends when it comes to it. But my life is my life, and I want to get back to it.’

‘But of course!’ he said, lifting his glass as if in a toast. ‘I understand completely.’

‘Anyway,’ she said, giving up, ‘what I’m saying is that, sadly, although I’m sure Maud meant well, there’s just no way I’m going to give up everything and come and live here, however full – or empty – my life might be. So yes, I’ll do what she wants, practise running this place, if that’s what sorts this… thissituationout.’ She looked at him darkly. ‘But I’m not going to waste my time waitressing or mopping floors. I’m going to use my skills to give this place a facelift.’

‘A facelift?’

‘A makeover. Then when it comes to sell…’

Pascal nodded. ‘I see.’ He seemed to be wrestling with something. ‘OK, I understand, but may I offer some advice?’

‘What is it?’

‘You say that this place needs to be renovated. But you need to understand that this is not London. Before you judge, perhaps it is a good idea to learn a little about what this café needs? Today I served almost thirty people. We made good money. And people come here for the community, not the decor.’

‘So?’

‘I am just saying, um, ‘Ne pas changer une formule gagnante’. The café is already winning plenty of money. You don’t need to make yourself tired. To waste money. So, you do not wish to live this life. I understand. It is not for everybody. But why not find happiness here for your month? Visit the town, find the life. Enjoy yourself. Rest.’

What was it with people telling her to rest all the time?

‘Relaxation is overrated,’ she found herself saying, almost clapping a hand over her mouth afterwards. Was she actually turning into her mother?

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