Page 54 of The Village Cafe in the Loire

‘So you definitely need to go to Paris for this?’

‘Non. But it is time. As you say, I cannot stay here.’

‘You can, though!’ she found herself saying. ‘I mean, there’s no rush from this end.’

He raised an eyebrow, acknowledging her U-turn. ‘Thank you. Well, I will stay for the two weeks you are here. I will help you to finish the works? The tables are coming soon,non? And your very modern coffee machine. I would like to help you finish, and I think Maud would want this.’ He smiled thinly.

She nodded, somehow unable to speak. For a moment he looked as if he were going to say something more, but seemed to check himself, smiled, and made his way through to the kitchen. The door shut and she was once again alone in the café.

It felt odd being here with no customers, without the hustle and bustle of locals consuming coffee, without their cheerfulbisousand general conversation. The sun still shone resolutely outside and its light streamed into the café, illuminating the first row of tables. But here, near the counter, she was in shadow. She didn’t move to turn on the lights, preferring to feel invisible to anyone who might pass. Her stomach clenched as she thought of Pascal. How easily he’d managed to brush her off. Not that she’d hoped for more. Obviously, nothing long term could happen between them. Still, it would have been nice to be wanted.

She felt something stir inside her and for a sudden moment wished she were back at work where there were clear rules and where she could lose herself in the busyness of her job and forget that there was life outside the bright, white walls of the office building.

Drawing out her phone she scanned through her messages to Amber from the last couple of weeks. There were a lot of them. She tried to find a moment when she’d asked Amber something about herself. How she was, or how work was going. But other than, ‘Can you talk?’ and ‘Let me know when you’re free!’ her messages did actually seem to be almost solely about her own experience.

But then she was going through quite a tumultuous time. Amber had to understand that.

She typed in ‘How are you? Hope you’re OK?’ just in case. Then got up and made her way through the kitchen and upstairs towards her room. Drawing out her mobile phone again – although it hadn’t been any more than five minutes – she saw her message had been read. But Amber hadn’t yet replied.

It was odd, this separation from Amber. She’d seen her daily for years – a little less when they’d attended different universities of course. But then when they’d both been offered jobs in offices a stone’s throw from each other and realised they could rent a place together, they’d jumped at the chance. And it had worked – they’d lived together seamlessly ever since. She never ordinarily had to second-guess text messages from Amber, because she’d see her every morning and evening.

She watched the message window for a moment as if by doing so she could perhaps telepathically encourage her friend to write back.

But no.

There was nothing for it. She’d have to go ahead and call Mum without a bolster from her best friend first.

She should, of course, have broken the news about Maud to Mum immediately. But she’d put it off, telling herself it would be better to wait until she’d actually seen her; so she could deliver a full report about how she was. Maybe even pass a message!

But now, calling up her mum from her list of contacts, she realised that deep down she’d simply been avoiding it. Whether it was to spare Mum the shock, or some other subconscious reason she was barely aware of, she didn’t know.

‘Now or never,’ she said to herself as she pressedCall.

‘Rebecca! How are you!’ Mum answered before she even heard a ring on the line, making her jump.

‘Yes. Good. Thank you.’

‘Oh, wonderful! So you’re surely back in the UK now? Fit for work?’

For a moment, Becky was confused. Then she realised: Mum had thought she was signed off for a fortnight, not a month. And she’d never corrected her. ‘I’m a lot better,’ she began cautiously.

‘Wonderful! So?—’

‘Hang on, Mum. I think I might have made a mistake when I told you about… when I said I was signed off for a couple of weeks.’

‘How so?’

‘Mum, it was a month. I just… I’m not sure why I didn’t say.’ Becky held the phone a little away from her ear and screwed up her face, ready for the onslaught.

‘What the dickens! Rebecca! I mean, gadzooks!’

‘I’m sorry, I must have?—’

‘Don’t give me that, young lady. You didn’t tell me because you were ashamed, am I right?’

Becky felt her face flush involuntarily as if she were fourteen again and lying about staying out late. ‘Not exactly, but?—’

‘The very cheek of it.’ It wasn’t clear whether her mother was now talking about Becky’s lie or her being signed off for so long. ‘Well, that’s settled then, you have to come home immediately! Get back in there and fight for your job, my girl.’

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