Page 84 of The Village Cafe in the Loire

Pascal nodded. ‘This can happen.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Oui, they call it a creative trance,’ he said. ‘When we are fixed in our work, and our subconscious mind takes over.’

‘Sorry, what?’

‘It is a good thing. The feeling of losing ourselves in our art. I have experienced this too when writing. Although not as much as I would like. Sometimes, for me, writing can be almost painful!’ he grimaced. ‘You lost yourself for a little.’

‘So that’s a thing?’

‘Oui, it is, as you say, “a thing”,’ he said with a smile. ‘And you are good,non? When did you last draw?’

‘Well, I did something back in England. Just a silly sketch really. Before that? Probably not since school,’ she admitted.

‘That is a shame. It feels good to create something.’

‘Maybe.’

‘I mean it. You have your aunt’s talent perhaps? Her eye?’

‘Oh no. Nothing like that.’

Pascal shrugged. ‘I think you are too modest. But then I cannot draw.’

‘But you can write, evidently,’ she said. ‘How are things going for your Paris plans? Have you heard from the publisher?’

He looked at her. ‘Yes, it’s good,’ he said. ‘I have told them now that I might not be in Paris all the time. It is fine of course; I am not Michel Houellebecq – the demand is still quite small. And I want to be here. With you.’

She felt a frisson of excitement at his words. The idea of staying longer, staying with him, was close enough to touch. Yet how could she? ‘You’d really do that?’

He nodded. ‘How could I not? So now you must decide to stay here and be with me.’

Her heart soared at the idea, then sank. Because the present here felt wonderful, but what would her future be like if she stayed? There would be no progression; no plan. Clearly, everything back home was going to change. But perhaps she could embrace that, but in a more structured, safe way. Maybe get some training. A different job in a different field.

‘Oh Pascal,’ she said. ‘You know I’d love to stay. For as long as I could. But… I just don’t know. I’m not sure I have it in me.’

‘But why not? It is simple, surely?’ He crouched down next to her, his beautiful eyes fixed on her face.

‘I just… I’m not like that. A month ago I had it all laid out. The plan I’d been working towards for years! And now… I’ve left my job. But I can’t just drift around doing nothing. Everyone I know is starting to put down roots, settle down, they’re getting promoted, doing well at work. Thriving.’ She thought of Amber, but pushed the image away.

‘What people?’

‘Old colleagues, classmates. I’m on a business profile site and you get updates… Pascal, I spent so much time being ahead, doing better than everyone else. And now… I’ve left my job but I’ve got nothing to update anyone with. I’ve got no direction.’

He put his hand gently on hers. ‘If you have no direction, perhaps the answer is to stay still?’

‘But I can’t live my whole life running a café. It’s lovely. It’s great. But it’s not enough. Even for you, it was a stopgap, not your whole life. I just…’

‘But why does it have to be your whole life?’ he said softly, looking at her with steady eyes. ‘What about a year, or perhaps two?’

‘Because I’d get stuck! Once you get off the corporate ladder, you get left behind.’

Pascal regarded her. She looked away. ‘But why do you want to be on this ladder? What is at the top?’

‘Success!’ she said. ‘Money! Status!’ She was beginning to sound like her mum, she realised.

‘And these things are important to you?’

---