Page 10 of The Village Cafe in the Loire

‘Even if I really feel I need you right now?’ Amber looked at her with large, pleading eyes. She was actually a pretty good actor.

‘Even so. Just think of the new, improved Becky you’ll get back in a couple of weeks.’

‘I suppose she’ll just have to do.’

Instinctively, Becky leant across the bed and gave Amber a squeeze. ‘I’ll miss you though,’ she said.

‘Me too.’

4

Becky had always liked the buzz of being in an airport. The sense of momentum, the way everything was organised and followed a set of rules. In the taxi en route, she’d thought about what Amber had said and wondered whether she was doing the right thing. Perhaps it would have been nice not to strike it out alone – after all, she had no idea exactly how she was going to achieve what she was setting out to achieve – but once she’d stepped through the sliding glass doors of London Stansted, she’d fallen automatically into the airport routine.

Checked in, she wandered the shops, buying a few treats – some perfume and make-up, a book for the journey – then made her way to the gate once her flight was called. Finally, she settled into her seat and tried to clear the niggling thoughts of work that continued to stalk her. Somewhere, someone was taking a meeting instead of her this morning. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted them to succeed or fail on her behalf. She wanted to prove in her absence that she was indispensable, but at the same time, not lose her hard-won clients.

She tried to focus on the view out of the window. Down on the tarmac, workers were removing the staircase after theplane had been boarded. Soon the pilot gave his spiel on the loudspeaker and they were trundling along the runway, picking up speed. Becky opened her book and began to try to lose herself in a story of someone who was clearly going to be murdered in a few chapters, but her mind kept snapping back to the café, the sale of the flat, the imminent financial disaster she had to solve.

She only had vague memories of Vaudrelle and Great-Aunt Maud. Childish snapshots of moments that had meant a lot to her back then. Ice creams and sunny swimming pools. Sitting in the back of their hire car, head resting against the window, spotting distant chateaux against lush green backdrops, scattered stone houses and sparkling lakes. The way the car bumped sometimes on cobbled streets as they made their way towards Vaudrelle. She didn’t remember Maud really – just the idea of her. An older lady who used to pick her up and swing her round when she was tiny, who made the best macarons she’d ever tasted. Someone benign and smiley who seemed to love spending time with her.

It was odd that this woman, whom she hadn’t felt she’d known well enough to grieve, had changed Becky’s life in this way. No doubt with the best of intentions. She’d probably thought the café and its premises above would set Becky up in life, give her an adventure. Instead, she’d given her the promise of cash wrapped in a logistical and administrative nightmare.

Poor Maud. From what Becky could ascertain, she’d led quite a lonely life by the end. Mum and Dad had become estranged from her and she didn’t have any other living family that Becky knew of. Yet she’d had quite the career in her younger years – been a lawyer living in London back in the seventies. Suddenly giving it all up.

‘She lost her mind, poor soul,’ was all that Mum would say about it. ‘Lost her drive. Wanted to live a simple life. Her parents tried to talk her out of it, but she was adamant.’

‘She seemed happy though?’ Becky had ventured. ‘From what I remember.’

Mum had shaken her head. ‘No, I can’t imagine she was,’ she’d said. ‘But she was a stubborn woman, never did admit her mistake. We stayed in touch for a while but…’ She’d waved her hand as if to mime the idea of their eventual fallout.

‘Didn’t you ever write back to her? When she wrote?’

‘Oh, we sent cards, that sort of thing,’ Mum said. ‘But you know what life can be like.’

Becky did indeed.

Still, perhaps she should have made an effort to go see Maud while she was still alive. Just to be kind, if nothing else. That was the trouble with a full-time job – the hours around the edge of every day were so stretched, the days so busy, that time seemed to fly past. All her good intentions each year – about being a better friend to Amber, a better daughter, a better advertising executive, losing the couple of pounds she was always regaining – would fall away as she struggled to keep up with the pace of everything.

It would all be worth it though when she’d made something of herself and could afford to take her foot off the pedal. At least once she’d adjusted her five-year plan to take this little hiccup into account.

The book was failing to hold her attention, so she shut it and looked out of the window at the light blue sky, the dotted clouds, which seemed so substantial from a distance but turned into nothing but mist when the plane cut through them. Below, the sea sparkled and riffled in the sunshine. She closed her eyes and tried to relax enough to sleep.

‘Oh my God, are you all right?’ the voice, and its proximity to her ear, made her jump.

‘What happened?’ she said blearily, her eyes focusing on the face of the flight attendant, so close to her own, his brow creased with concern.

‘Oh, nothing.’ He straightened and she noticed for the first time that several of the other passengers were looking at her. A child was pointing. ‘I think you may have had a nightmare. Nothing to worry about.’

‘Did I…’

‘You screamed.’

‘Oh.’ She felt her cheeks get hot. ‘Sorry,’ she said.

‘Something about a laptop?’ he added helpfully.

‘Right.’ She straightened up. ‘Well, I’m fine. Thank you.’

The nightmares were nothing new. She’d been having them for the past year or so, but this was the first time she’d had one so publicly. She was relieved when they landed and she was able to push her way off the plane, grab her luggage and find a ride to Vaudrelle.

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