Page 8 of The Village Cafe in the Loire

‘Twitchy, what, the eyelid?’

‘Especially the eyelid. I’m serious, Amber. I think I’ve actually solved it! The café will sell, I’ll get another extension on the flat reservation – sure I can pay another fee if necessary – I’ll get the deposit in time and my burnout will be a distant memory!’ Becky looked at her friend, delighted, but was slightlyperturbed that her wide, enthusiastic smile wasn’t being shared. ‘That’ll sort everything, right?’

‘So you’re going to cure your burnout by buying a luxury apartment?’ Amber said slowly.

‘No. Keep up! The burnout doesn’t exist. Stress over the café does. I get rid of that place andvoilà!The road to happiness is cleared of debris!’

‘Voilà?’

‘What can I say? I’m practically bilingual.’

‘Ha.’

‘So, what do you think?’

‘Honestly?’

‘Honestly.’

‘Listen, I know the idea of a month at home sounds a bit… impossible for you,’ said Amber gently. ‘But if it were me, I’d give it a few more days to really sink in. Don’t go rushing off trying to change the world. You’ll end up worse off, if you aren’t careful.’

‘You’re seriously not supporting me in this?’

‘No, idiot. I’ll support you in anything. Who was it that took the blame when we were caught forging a “get out of PE” letter at school?’

Becky rolled her eyes. ‘You did.’

‘And who lied to her mum so that her best friend could sneak away with her boyfriend overnight?’

‘You, again. I get it.’ Becky smiled at the shared memories. ‘But I’ve got this time. It seems like a sign… and you know how much easier things are to handle in person.’

‘Even if the people you’ll be dealing with only speak French, and operate under a completely different legal system to the one you’re used to?’ Amber asked, eyebrow raised.

‘I can speak a bit of French. Not a lot, admittedly…’

‘Becky! You had to use Google translate just to understand that solicitor’s letter! And you let all his calls go to voicemail so you could listen twenty times if necessary.’

‘I know. But that’s on the phone. I feel like if I can see people in person, they’ll see how important it is – even if my French is awful.’

‘At least hire a translator?’

‘Seriously, I’ve got this. I’ll talk to this guy. Maybe even find him somewhere else to live. He’s probably just an old guy who needs a bit of help to resettle.’

‘So you’re swooping in like Florence Nightingale?’

‘If Florence Nightingale is secretly trying to evict an old man from his forever home, then yes.’

Amber shook her head. ‘This is a lot to take in before coffee,’ she said. ‘But how about this. My annual leave renews in a few months. I could book a couple of weeks off. We could go together. Rather than rushing to France, you could use this time to chill, maybe Marie Kondo the flat or do something useful. It’s June – summer will kick in any moment. You could go to the park, read a book. Get some sun on your face. And then, later, we’ll go.’

‘I couldn’t ask you to waste your holiday on me!’

‘In all honesty, I could do with the escape.’

‘Well, it’s really appreciated…’

‘But?’ Amber prompted.

‘Honey, you know what I’m like when I get the bit between my teeth.’

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