Page 59 of A French Affair
Fighting back the tears at Bernie’s unexpected kind gesture, Belinda walked on towards her favourite place: the bench by the river. Ten minutes here would calm her and restore her equilibrium before she returned to the cottage for supper with Alain. She pushed open the gate in the hedge and sank down gratefully on the bench. Her presence disturbed a heron standing on the bank just metres away and she watched as the large bird took off to fly downriver before curving towards the opposite bank and landing on the mud at the water’s edge.
Belinda sat there letting her mind wander over the day. The way her father had been so pleased to see her. The way he’d said Jean was the love of his life. The way he’d spoken the name Helena and shrugged.
A question that only he could answer, but one that Belinda knew she could never ask him at this stage of his life, dropped into her mind: Had he been truly happy with Helena? Or had he, like her mum, lived the last thirty-five years with the biggest mistake of his life?
Belinda sighed. She’d never know the whole truth. Neither would she tell him how unhappy Jean had been living her life without him.
Her mobile rang at that moment. Alain.
‘Are you okay? Where are you?’
‘I’m fine. Sitting down by the river.’
‘Supper is ready when you are.’
‘Okay. On my way back. And, Alain, thank you. Thank you for today.’
* * *
Belinda sniffed the air appreciatively as she walked into the kitchen. ‘Supper smells delicious. Meals like this are going to be so popular in the café. Fern will be the making of it. I hope the new owners will appreciate her.’
Alain glanced up from the salad he was preparing. ‘If they’ve got any sense they will.’
Belinda put the cutlery and glasses on the table and started to tell Alain about the decisions she’d made.
‘I haven’t told Nigel yet, but I’m not going to work for the new owners. At the end of this month, I’ll go home, work a month’s notice, clear out the flat, move in with Chloe, start job hunting and hope and pray I have a new job and home before they move to the Vendée.’
Alain poured them both a glass of wine and they clinked glasses before Belinda continued.
‘I’ve also told my friend, Jane, to visit before the end of the month. I don’t want the new owners sending me a bill for an unauthorised holiday.’
‘That won’t happen,’ Alain said, laughing.
‘You can’t be sure; I know what these hard-headed businessmen are like.’ Belinda sighed. ‘I can’t believe how much I’m going to miss this place.’
‘Then stay. Work with me. You are good, together we could make this place really work.’ Alain stared at her, waiting for a reply.
Surprised at the way her heart jumped at his offer and filled her with the overwhelming desire to do just that, Belinda knew that it was an impossible dream and pushed the thought away.
‘Nice idea, but no. And, just so you know, it’s not you, it’s them.’ Which was the partial truth. She longed to say yes to working with this new gentler Alain, someone whom she was getting to appreciate having in her life, but who knew what the new owners were going to be like?
‘Well, if you ever change your mind, let me know. Come on, let’s eat,’ and Alain took the lasagna out of the oven.
After they’d helped themselves and started to eat, Alain glanced at Belinda curiously.
‘Did you ever have a dream when you were younger? Something that you wanted to do so badly it became an obsession?’
‘Not really. Although at one stage I desperately wanted to be a rally driver. The summer we left, Dad had bought me a 2CV like yours but…’ She shrugged. ‘Let’s not go there tonight,’ and she picked up her wine glass and took several gulps.
‘I’ve had this dream, not since I was a kid, but for a good few years now. Camping dans Le Fôret is at the heart of it.’ Alain forked a spoonful of lasagna up. ‘You know of Michael Morpurgo, the writer?’
‘Yes, I’ve heard of him. I’ve even bought a couple of his books. He and his wife are famous for starting Farms for City Children in England.’
Alain nodded. ‘All the time I worked for the charity in Africa, I wanted to be back in France, doing something similar with this place. Not a farm, although I always planned to ’ave a small area with animals, just a few chickens, maybe a goat or two, a horse, a cat, definitely a dog. Turning this place into an escape from the city for underprivileged kids. Give them a holiday in the countryside. That was my dream.’
Belinda struggled to keep the look of astonishment off her face. She’d always assumed that Alain was simply being stubborn about bringing the campsite into the twenty-first century. Preferring to keep the site as an homage to his parents.
‘Did Nigel know about these plans?’
