Page 35 of Love In Provence
My heart swells. ‘This is so kind! So thoughtful!’
‘Well, we could see that it was … a difficult time for you and Rhi. And what with you having Louis to look after too, it was the least we could do.’
‘Yeah, that Zacharie was a right knob!’ says Marco. ‘Felt like decking him.’
Although I’m not sure I like Marco’s approach, I suddenly feel very fond of him. Perhaps I can understand what Maria sees in him, after all. He can be funny, and loyal.
‘Indeed,’ says Graham.
There’s a murmur of agreement among the group.
I feel a bubble of laughter rise in me, dispelling my tension. ‘So, what’s on the menu?’ I clasp my hands together.
‘I’m cooking samosas,’ says Maria.
‘And I’m doing cauliflower risotto, with truffle oil,’ says Ed.
‘I brought more crisps,’ says Keith, ‘but I’m doing it like nachos, with melting cheese and salsa. That was Jen’s suggestion.’
I love it!
‘I haven’t cooked since my husband died and Itook off in the van,’ Jen says. ‘I just live off beans and sausages.’
‘Well, that’s almost a cassoulet!’ I joke, and the cassoulet recipe I’ve cooked time and time again flashes into my head and out again, there and gone. But it was there, and that brings me a sense of warmth and desperation mixed. A bit like the meal being put on the table right now, a mix that makes no sense, but was born of caring.
‘Exactly. That’s what I said!’ Ed’s eyes are glistening with enjoyment.
I hear a car and turn around.
‘Papi Fabien?’ Louis asks, and points to the driveway.
‘Soon,’ I say, and kiss the tips of his fingers. ‘Soon.’
It’s Carine. Clémentine is running around with Ralph.
‘I came straight after work to see how things were after your meeting with Zacharie.’
I take a deep breath. ‘Not good. He came for the ashes. Didn’t even stay for lunch. In fact, he was very rude. How did the valuation go? Did he say why he wanted it?’
Another car comes down the drive. It’s the mayor. I walk over to greet him as he gets out. Carine and he kiss each other’s cheeks, like good friends do. Clémentine rushes over to greet her papa.
Then Stephanie arrives in her little van, with thepurple lavender sprig painted on the side. Tomas and JB are getting out.
‘Fabien?’ Tomas looks around and I have to tell him that Fabien is still away with the band. My heart twists. I wish he was here and could see how much the family are missing him. I explain that he’ll be back soon. Very soon, I hope.
‘Join us,’ I say to the mayor, having introduced him to the pickers. Then I look at the group. ‘If that’s okay?’ After all, I didn’t cook any of this. ‘They made all of this,’ I say, with pride.
He peers at the heavily laden table.
I raise a questioning eyebrow at Maria.
‘Of course,’ she says, and the others move around the table. Keith fetches a chair from the farmhouse, then finds cushions and plumps them, making sure they’re comfortable. The mayor sits next to Carine, Clémentine between them, as if this was perfectly normal. But what is normal?
‘So, Carine texted me and told me about Henri’s son arriving,’ says the mayor, accepting a glass of red wine and looking at the array of small plates as they’re put on the table.
‘Yes, it wasn’t an easy meeting. Especially as I thought he’d come to mend the smashed window!’ I half want to laugh at my case of mistaken identity, but I can’t, not yet, and it’s sticking in my throat like a ball of bile.
‘And he took the ashes?’ asks the mayor, sipping his wine from a turquoise blue tumbler.
