Page 8 of Love In Provence
‘But I am, here with you!’ He holds the tops of my arms, but I can feel his infectious excitement at the idea of him joining the band, just for a while, one last blast.
I don’t know what else to say, so much is going through my mind – the pickers arriving, the harvest, the bistro, Rhi, how we should prepare the funeral … Maybe Fabien’s right. I’m being ridiculous. The timing is all wrong. Timing usually is. But his eyes are suddenly bright and twinkling, the prospect of what-if. We stare at each other, at a crossroads, a moment in time … a sliding door. A what-if. Then his eyes soften,the excitement seeping away. He shakes his head, his dark hair flopping over his forehead.
‘Of course I can’t go. We have far too much going on here.’
‘And what if you don’t go? Will you always wish you had?’ I say. Will he always resent that he gave up the chance to go back on the road one last time? Last time he gave up life with the band to take over from his grandfather at thebrocante. This time it’s because of me. He can’t be with the band, on stage, playing music, because of life here at Le Petit Mas. I can’t let him do that for me.
‘It’s fine. They’ll find someone else.’ He gives a little laugh. ‘I’m not indispensable as a bass player.’ He holds his hands across himself as if playing air guitar.
There’s only one thing I can say. ‘Of course you have to go!’ I give him a little shove. ‘We need to take something from what’s happened to Henri. You have to seize the day.’ The tears are backing up behind my eyes but they don’t fall. They stay there, making everything blurry and skewed. ‘Are they paying? The money will be useful,’ I say, a little more bluntly than I mean to. ‘When do they leave?’
He looks at me as if I’m joking. ‘If it’s about the money—’
‘No, no. But you said hardly anyone is buying while the town is full of holidaymakers and it’s so hot.People are putting off house clearances until it cools down. It could be useful!’ I’m wondering if I’ve just put my foot in it and made him feel bad about his income. I didn’t mean to. ‘It’s not the money.’
‘But it would be useful,’ he repeats. He pulls out his phone and switches it on. Another couple of messages come through. ‘Yes, they’re paying. It’s not a lot, but as you say—’
I cut across him. ‘It’s about seizing the day!’
‘But,’ he types, ‘as you say, I could do with bringing in more than I am right now. Especially with JB’s wages to pay.’ He types some more, then throws up a hand.
‘It’s today. They leave today,’ he says, with disappointment. ‘See? It just wasn’t meant to be. They’re leaving as soon as they can.’
‘Well, then,’ I take a deep breath, ‘what are you waiting for? You’d better go and pack. And don’t forget your guitar!’
‘What?’
‘Go!’ I give him another gentle shove.
He throws his arms out, laughing. ‘But the harvest! Henri’s funeral!’
‘The harvest will happen, one way or another. Isn’t that what you’ve always told me when I get panicky? And it does. And, no, it’s not about the money,’ I say firmly. ‘It’s about remembering to enjoy life. To live it! While we can! And once I have the details of thefuneral from Rhi, I’ll let you know so you can come home for it. No point us both waiting around here for the date.’
He frowns. ‘But you need help.’
‘I’ve got Rhi!’
‘What’s that?’ Rhi steps out onto the terrace.
‘I was saying I’ve got you here to help with the harvest. You’ve done it before.’
‘I have, and you have,’ she says, roughness in her voice, tiredness. She sips her coffee. ‘No plans to go anyway just now. Get up, get through the day, go to bed. Repeat.’
‘Fabien is going to rejoin his old band,’ I explain to her. ‘They’re going on tour. They had a replacement bass guitarist, but they’ve broken their collar bone. So Fabien is going to join them until they find someone else to step in.’
Rhi looks as surprised as Fabien does. ‘Good for you! Do it while you can!’ Her eyes fill with more tears. Mine sting, but no tears fall. I nod a lot to agree with what she says.
‘It’ll help with the finances. Thebrocanteis very slow at the moment.’
‘Good to take the work when we can.’
‘It’s not about the money!’ I say, slightly tetchily. Then, with a deep breath, ‘Go, just enjoy the ride.’
Fabien looks at me, then at Rhi and back at me for reassurance. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’
‘Go!’ I say.
He smiles widely and hugs me hard. ‘You are incredible, you know that? You are telling me to do this mad, crazy thing because Henri would want me to?’
