Page 56 of A French Affair
The next few days passed in a blur of work. Belinda and Alain left Marie in charge of the office and concentrated on getting the café and its kitchen ready for the inspectors’ visit. After her initial visit to the café and Belinda’s surprise job offer, Fern had agreed to become the part-time manager of the café as well as supplying cakes and some meals. Most days she joined them for a couple of hours, helping to get the café ready. Alain had put the word out in the village that they were looking for catering staff and Fern joined them when they interviewed the five or six people who applied for jobs.
One afternoon, Fern arrived to tell them about a delivery for the next day and also to give them a broccoli quiche for supper. ‘It a different recipe – a bit spicier than I usually make it. Need to know what you think.’
Belinda picked up a crusty baguette and prepared a salad to go with the quiche when she got back to the cottage that afternoon. Placing the meal on the table, she called out ‘À table’ to Alain, who’d gone upstairs to take a shower, just as her mobile rang. Fern. They’d only said goodbye half an hour ago.
‘Hi, Fern. Everything all right?’
‘I thought I’d let you know, Anouk heard from a friend this afternoon that your father has been moved into the hospice this morning. So, if you do decide to go and say farewell, you wouldn’t have to go to the cottage. You might still come face to face with Helena at the hospice though.’
Belinda closed her eyes and sighed. The message was clear. Her dad was edging closer to the end. If she was going to see him alive one last time, then she would have to visit soon. She thanked Fern and ended the call as Alain came downstairs and she went into the kitchen for the wine to accompany the meal. She poured two glasses and handed one to Alain.
‘My father has been moved into the hospice.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Did you mean what you said about taking me? If you did, I think I’d like to go the day after tomorrow if possible.’
‘I’ll take you,’ Alain said gently. ‘But you must eat something as well as drink, otherwise you’ll be too weak to go anywhere,’ and he pushed the quiche towards her.
38
The morning of the visit to the hospice, Belinda showered and, feeling foolish, hesitated over what to wear for meeting her dad after such a long time. What did it matter in the scheme of things what she wore? But somehow it did matter. Dad had always liked to see her dressed stylishly. Belinda smiled to herself. He’d have been horrified if he’d ever seen her during her goth phase. The problem was her current wardrobe was purely practical: a couple of pairs of jeans, sweatshirts, T-shirts and two or three white long-sleeved cotton shirts. She felt ridiculously pleased when, having decided on a sweatshirt and jeans, underneath the sweatshirts in the drawer, she found the Breton striped top she’d bought on her visit home and hadn’t yet worn. Perfect with her best jeans and her wedge sandals.
There was no sign of Alain when she went downstairs, but the coffee machine was on and there was a note propped against it. ‘Bernie will have BB for the day. Can you walk BB down to him? As soon as Marie arrives, we’ll go. P.S. You need more than coffee. Have a croissant.’
Belinda forced herself to eat half a croissant and washed it down with her coffee. The way her tummy was churning she prayed it would stay put during the journey. Clipping BB’s lead on, she walked down to Bernie’s cabin. Still early, there were a few campers sitting out enjoying the early-morning sunshine quiet and eating breakfast outside. Bernie was sitting outside his cabin with a mug of coffee on a small table next to him, waiting for her. Ging was curled up again in the bicycle basket.
‘Demat, Bernie,’ Belinda said.
Bernie smiled. ‘Demat, Belinda,’ and he held out his hand for BB’s lead.
‘Trugarez,’ Belinda said, remembering the word for thank you in Breton. She bent down and stroked BB, who was already curled up at Bernie’s feet. ‘You be good. Au revoir,’ she said, trusting it was such a universal word that Bernie couldn’t fail to know it and waved before turning to walk back to the cottage to collect her bag, car keys and jacket.
There was a large Mitsubishi 4 x 4 car parked outside the office when she went to find Alain. Hopefully Marie would be able to deal with whoever had arrived and not delay Alain and her leaving. Belinda stood by her car waiting and wondering whether she should go and seek Alain out. Before she could climb the steps to the office though, he appeared.
‘Ready?’
Belinda nodded. ‘Yes. Who does that belong to?’
‘Me,’ Alain said, pressing the key fob. ‘Come on, in you get.’ He opened the passenger door for her.
Belinda couldn’t contain her surprise. ‘Yours? You’ve traded the 2CV in?’
Alain shook his head. ‘Non. The 2CV is for local trips and is fun. This, this is for serious journeys.’ Once she was in, he closed the door and walked round and got in the driver’s seat. ‘I’ve set the satnav for the quickest route. Should take under an hour.’
Belinda, thankful she didn’t have to concentrate on driving, sat lost in thoughts and memories that chased themselves around and around in her head as the miles flashed past. The car radio was switched to a classic station playing gentle piano music, the sort that could send you to sleep if you weren’t careful, Belinda thought. Alain, concentrating on his driving, glanced across at her once or twice but didn’t attempt to make conversation, something for which Belinda was grateful.
‘I’ve forgotten to buy him something. I should have brought a gift,’ Belinda said, suddenly in a panic at the thought of the forthcoming meeting. ‘Flowers or something.’
‘I think seeing you will be a gift enough,’ Alain said.
Belinda sank back down into her seat. ‘I hope you’re right.’
When Alain pulled up into a visitor’s parking space to one side of the hospice, Belinda didn’t want to get out of the car. Her legs seemed to be frozen into position and wouldn’t move.
‘Alain, I don’t think I can do this,’ she said.
‘Yes you can,’ Alain said gently. ‘Take deep breaths and think positive thoughts. You want me to go first and see if Enzo is well enough for visitors? I tell them who you are? I make sure that you don’t bump into Helena.’
‘Please.’
Alain got out of the car and walked round to Belinda’s side. ‘Come on, out you get. There’s a bench by the main entrance, you can sit there and wait. The fresh air will be good for you.’
