Page 53 of The Village Cafe in the Loire

‘Hardly a surprise. It was a big deal today, I think.’

‘Yeah. It was.’ She pulled out her phone and looked at her message to Amber. It hadn’t been read.

‘Everything OK?’ Pascal said, walking towards the door into the main building.

‘Yeah. It’s just Amber. She normally replies and she’s virtually blanking me.’

‘She is busy?’

‘Yes, but that doesn’t normally stop her. Especially… she knows what I’m up to today.’

He shrugged. ‘Sometimes things are not so important to others. I am sure she will reply soon.’

‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’

‘Perhaps she is missing France.’

Becky laughed. ‘Probably. It’s raining again in London.’

‘Did you ask her?’

It was an odd question. ‘What? If she was missing France?’

‘If she was OK.’ Pascal said. ‘Because I think sometimes it seemed like maybe she wanted to talk more about herself.’

‘What do you mean?’ Her voice sounded a little sharp.

‘Oh, it is nothing.’

‘No. Please. What is it?’

Pascal sighed. ‘Perhaps it’s rude to say, but as a writer I listen to conversations, I observe things. And it… I don’t know you very well, but I have noticed that sometimes you talk…’

‘Well, yes. So does everyone!’

‘No. I mean you talk but you don’t listen as much. You don’t ask questions of other people so much.’ He walked up and gently touched her shoulder, the back of her neck.

‘Yes I do! I’m always asking questions!’ She felt herself stiffen.

‘OK. I did not mean to offend. It is just an observation. But for example, I told you that I was writing, but it was more than a week before you asked me anything about it. And when you decided to decorate… you did this on your own without consultation.’

‘Yes, but I didn’t know you then. I didn’t think you’d want to help.’ She shrugged his arm away. Her shoulder felt cold after the warmth of his hand.

Pascal’s eyes hardened. He nodded. ‘I understand.’

‘Anyway, Amber’s fine. We talked a lot when she was here,’ she almost snapped. ‘And quite honestly, you don’t know her at all, so I don’t see how you could sense how she feels.’ All the while, inside, a little voice was telling her to stop; to alter her tone. Why was she talking to Pascal like this? He clearly meant well.

‘I just thought I might mention it. I am an empath. I feel people. She seemed very sad.’ Pascal’s voice was close to monotone.

‘Amber? No, she’s fine,’ Becky said firmly.

‘Good.’ Pascal made towards the door again, then turned. ‘Oh, and you will be pleased to know, I think, that I have started to make plans.’

‘Plans?’

‘Yes, to return to Paris. The publishers my agent sent the novel to are very happy with my work and have made me a generous offer. Good enough for me to tell my mother about my book deal, and for her to even be a little pleased for me, I think.’

‘Oh! Right.’ She felt a sinking sensation. Was this his way of telling her that last night had meant nothing? It felt off, as if he were annoyed at her.

---