Page 65 of The Bordeaux Book Club

The sky was still white, but the edges of some of the light clouds were beginning to glow, revealing that the sun was just underneath, working its way through to flood the afternoon with sunshine.

26

It was surreal, George thought, listening to Blur – a Britpop favourite from his twenties – while working on a building site in France in his forties. He thought of his younger self, visiting clubs, half-working, half-socialising at college, dreaming of the future and wondered what that version of him would say to see him now, shirt off in the French sun, reconstructing a tumbledown wall.

He liked to think that that version of him wouldn’t be too disappointed. Sure, he hadn’t got the wife and 2.4 kids he’d assumed he’d have by now, but he was relatively happy. He had some good mates out here on the site, and was spending a year in Bordeaux. It sounded OK when you put it like that.

‘Coming for a drink later?’ Derek shouted over. ‘It’s going to be a scorcher this arvo, thought we’d wind up soon.’

The weather hadn’t been the best for working outside recently. During the spring, they’d often managed ten-hour days, slogging away and seeing real results. But since the summer had come into itself, the heat had been intense and their energy and impetus had drained. George had suggested they start getting up early to get a decent amount of work donebefore they were forced to stop and drink beer and take a dip in the local lake. So far, everyone had agreed, but nobody had ever been awake and working when he’d turned up at the house, meaning he was clocking up an hour or so before they even opened their eyes.

‘Sorry mate,’ Derek had said when he’d found him in the kitchen at nine this morning.

‘S’OK,’ he’d replied. It was Derek’s house, Derek’s project, Derek paying his bed and board. If Derek wanted to slack off, there wasn’t much he could do about it.

‘Yeah, why not?’ he said now, standing back to inspect his work.

The house his friend had bought had been a ‘steal’ at 85,000 euros. But not quite the bargain he’d thought at first. Derek had assumed it would just be the interior that needed work, but investigation had revealed he hadn’t done his due diligence. While the structure itself was sound, there were several areas that needed firming up properly before they could start work on the interior. The two others – Scott and Harry – had been staying in the property to save money. But Derek had retreated to a hotel and George to his city centre bedsit.

Blur’s ‘Country House’ started up and he laughed. ‘Here you go mate, this one’s for you,’ he said to Derek.

In all honesty, he couldn’t believe that Derek – once a real city boy like himself – was planning to live somewhere so remote. Sure, the property was just forty minutes’ drive from Bordeaux, but there was nothing much in the tiny hamlet to entertain a single bloke in his mid-thirties like Derek.

Still, each to their own.

George hadn’t thought, when he was in his thirties, that he’d still be single, still unsure of what he was going to do with his life by now. He’d assumed when he’d met Alison back then that they’d settle down, do the family thing. Only she’d upped andleft almost without warning and he’d felt cut loose ever since. They’d sold the flat and he probably should have used the chunk of change he’d got as a result as a deposit on a new place. Only he hadn’t felt like it.

Instead, he’d invested his money in a long-term bond, quit his job and done temping work around various sites – taking a bit of an ad-hoc approach to work, spending time in new areas to get his head straight. Relationships broke up, sure, but he’d always been led to believe that there’d be warning signs along the way. The way it had happened had shaken his confidence.

What he’d thought would be a year of drifting and ‘getting his head straight’ had turned into a decade. Now it was a way of life. But although it might not have happened by choice, he was relatively happy. And not sure, after all this time, how to make a change.

Six months ago, Derek had called him up – George had worked with him on a property in Cornwall two years before – and asked how he was fixed. And George had felt that a year in France might just be the thing he needed to finally get himself back on track.

Now he was here, he wasn’t so sure.

All the thoughts, feelings he’d been running from, had just seemed to come with him.

It wasn’t that he wanted Alison back – she was happy now, had a baby even. He’d seen the news on Facebook. It was just he didn’t know what to do with himself now. Meet someone new, but live with that feeling they might suddenly whip out a grenade and blow your present and your future apart? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to give another person that kind of power over his life.

Derek was single, the other lads had wives and kids and all that. They’d fly back every couple of weeks to see them. George couldn’t understand why they’d want to work so far away fromtheir families, but it wasn’t the sort of question you asked, was it?

He stood back again and looked at his work, nodded to himself, and began to clear his materials up.

The sun had broken through now, and he could feel the heat prickle on his skin. It’d be nice to head out for a beer. Maybe he’d see if they’d come into the city rather than grabbing a keg from the supermarket. They could probably all manage to crash at his if they wanted. Just about. And it would mean he could drink instead of worrying how he’d get back to the flat in one piece.

27

‘Got everything you need?’ Nathan said, poking his head around the kitchen door and smiling at Leah.

It was after six and she had just about an hour before the book group descended on her. She was dreading it and looking forward to it in equal measure. It would be nice to see everyone again, nice to get her literary fix. But looking at the house with new eyes – imagining what she might think of it if she was seeing it for the first time – had made her feel frantic. Nothing would ever be clean enough, tidy enough, tasteful enough to welcome her new guests.

She was nervous, too, of seeing Grace. They’d spoken since the argument – she’d apologised to her friend and Grace had accepted. But she wasn’t sure of the damage she might have done, whether their friendship had been harmed. Whether she’d really hurt her. Would things feel different?

She looked up now, holding a plate ofvol-au-vents. ‘Yeah, think so.’ Then looked again. ‘You off out?’ she said, trying to keep her voice light.

Nathan shrugged. ‘Thought I’d give you lot a bit of space,’ he said. ‘I haven’t read the book, so it’s not like I can contribute anything.’

‘Where?’

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