Page 113 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure
“Ellie.” He said the word firmly, making her stop and look at him. “Are you really happy here? In this place? With these people? How can you want to live amongst foreigners?” He took a deep breath. “Ellie, I really came to bring you home. I want you back. I miss you. Goddammit, it’s never been the same since you went away. Nothing was ever right.”
“What about Michelle?” she asked.
“There is no more Michelle,” he said. “She got bored with me quite quickly, I think. Anyway, she met a Yank and she’s gone off to America with him. It never really worked. She was useless as a housekeeper, didn’t know how to cook properly. Lots of foreign muck like spaghetti. The place was a mess, and I was always in a bad mood because I could never find anything. I realize now that I made a big mistake in marrying her. I suppose I was flattered that such a bright young thing could be interested in me.”
“There was supposed to be a baby,” Ellie said.
“Ah yes. The baby. She made a mistake. She never was very regular, she said, so she jumped to conclusions.”
“She jumped at the chance to marry someone rich, Lionel,” Ellie replied.
“Anyway, it was a mistake, and I let you down. I don’t think I can forgive myself. So what do you say, Ellie? Shall we give it another chance? You could keep on this place for summer holidays if you like. I wouldn’t mind if you went away for a month.”
Ellie gave him a sweet smile. “I’m sorry, Lionel. But I like it here. I’m happy here. And besides, I’m already married.”
“You married a Frenchman?”
“I did,” she said.
“This is his villa, then?”
“It is.”
“Ah. So he’s an aristocrat. Not a local person.”
“He’s both. He’s the son of a duke but was raised by a fisherman. His father is dead, but his mother lives here with us. And before you ask, we are very happy.” She looked up as she heard steps coming up from the dock. “Ah. Here he is now.”
Nico emerged from the steps on to the terrace. His hair was windswept, he was wearing old blue denims, and he was carrying a large ray. “Look what I caught,” he called out. “We’ll be feasting tonight.” He stopped when he saw the visitor.
“This is my former husband,” she said in French, then added in English. “Lionel, I’d like you to meet Nicolas Barbou, my husband.”
Nico went to shake hands, then realized he was still holding a fish. “How do you do?” he said in English. “Welcome to our home.”
“Well, thank you,” Lionel replied in a clipped voice. “Nice place you have here.”
“That is because my wife made it beautiful like this,” Nico replied, giving Ellie a beaming smile. “She made this house into what you see.”
“I did,” Ellie agreed. “It was a ruin when I took it over. It’s been a labour of love.”
“You always did have the knack of making a place beautiful,” Lionel said. “Our home always looked just perfect.”
“So will you stay the night, Lionel?” Ellie asked. “I can make up a bed for you in the guest room.”
“No, thank you,” he replied stiffly. “I should be getting back, then. Damn. I let that taxi go. Do you have a way of calling another?”
“We can drive you into Marseille,” Ellie said, “Or better still, Nico can take you in the speedboat. It’s a lovely ride.” She switched to French in case he hadn’t understood.
He nodded. “D’accord.”
“Well, that’s jolly kind of you,” Lionel said.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay in the village?” Ellie asked. “There’s a nice little pension run by English people, and the bar cooks good food.”
“Presumably laden with garlic,” Lionel said. “No, I think I’ll be going back, then. It was foolish of me to come. I should have realized an attractive woman like you would be snapped up. My mistake. I’ll be regretting it for the rest of my life.”
“Look, at least stay and have a meal with us,” Ellie said. “Lunch on the terrace. I’ll make sure there’s no garlic.”
“No. I ought to go. Too painful,” he said. “I suppose it’s gradually dawning on me what lies ahead. It was bad enough during the war, but now that Michelle has gone, I’m rattling around in that big house. You can’t get household help for love or money. Nobody wants that sort of job since the war. I eat in the club most of the time, but I’m sixty-two. Going to retire soon. And then what? What on earth will I do with myself?”
