Page 55 of The Bordeaux Book Club

She stuck the earth with her fork again, this time driving it deeper than before. Only now, she’d gone too far in and couldn’t lift the stubborn earth. She leaned against the handle, almost as if it was a lever, trying to push it and lift the soil. But it wouldn’t budge. And suddenly, she was crying, kicking at the fork. ‘Where is he?’ she hissed to the innocent garden tool. ‘Where is Nathan?’

She took a breath and sank down onto the soil. The day was warm and she needed a drink. Probably shouldn’t be digging anyway in the May sunshine; it was heading towards twenty-eight degrees – better to have left it to the evening. But she’d wanted to dosomething.

She pulled out her phone and checked the time. 11a.m. Nathan had been out for almost two hours. Then she scrolled through and pulled up Grace’s number.

Her friend answered almost immediately. There was a buzz of conversation in the background – wherever she was, Grace was busy.

‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Sorry, I can call back later.’

‘No, it’s fine,’ Grace said. ‘I’m at the craft fayre, remember?’ The sound behind her stopped abruptly as she exited to somewhere quieter. ‘I’ve been put on teas and coffees,’ she said. ‘It’s good to have an excuse to get a break.’

Leah smiled, then remembered why she was calling. ‘I just…’ she said. ‘Nathan’s…’

‘Out again?’ Grace said, in her forthright way.

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, Leah.’

Leah waited for the habitual reassurance Grace often doled out.It’s probably nothing, ortry to think rationally, but it didn’t come.

The realisation that even Grace seemed out of reassurances made the tears come. ‘I just…’ she said. ‘I can’t take this, Grace. Why is he doing this to us?’ She kicked at the fork, jarring her toe. ‘And I’m left doing the bloody garden on my own. And I just can’t…’

‘Honestly, don’t then,’ Grace said kindly. ‘Give yourself a break.’

‘But the lettuce…’

‘Forget the lettuce,’ Grace said firmly. ‘First of all, it’ll still grow if you plant it tomorrow. Second of all, I’ll buy you a bloody lettuce if it comes to it!’

Leah sighed. ‘I suppose I’d better…’

‘And don’t you dare go into that chicken coop,’ Grace warned. ‘You don’t have to prove anything to me, or yourself. And certainly not to a bunch of blummin’ chickens.’

It was hard not to smile. ‘Still, it’s important that I show them who’s boss,’ she said.

‘Important to whom?’

‘Good point.’

‘Let Nathan take the brunt when he gets home. Lord knows he deserves it.’

‘So, you think…?’ Leah said, her voice sounding small in the open air.

‘What I think,’ Grace said pointedly, ‘is that whatever is going on, he is messing you about – being all mysterious – so he deserves a good pecking even if he’s literally just trying to get a bit of space. If that’s all it is, why all the mystery? Why the aftershave? Who does he think he is? James Bond?’

‘I can’t see 007 working on an allotment, to be fair.’

‘Well, I reckon he’d be bloody good at it.’

Leah couldn’t help but laugh. ‘He’d be better than I am, that’s for sure.’ She left the fork where it was and made her way to the bench on the front terrace. From here, she could see the view – the thing that had sold them the house in the first place. The red roofs of houses scattered on green, falling away until all was countryside: peaceful, beautiful and unspoiled. Phone still clamped to her ear, she leaned her head back and let the warmth of the sun play on her skin. It was somehow soothing. She breathed in.

‘Still there, love?’ Grace interrupted.

‘Yeah,’ said Leah, feeling calmer. ‘Just trying to find my inner Zen.’

‘Atta girl, although don’t lose that fire in your belly completely, will you?’

‘What do you mean?’

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