Page 35 of A French Adventure
‘That’s a cruel ditty. I’m not old. I’m in my prime.’
By the time Thierry drove into the garage at the villa, they were both aching from laughing so much.
Once indoors, Olivia quickly threw a salad together, grated some cantal cheese, whipped four eggs up, and made them both an omelette. Thierry opened a bottle of rosé before taking cutlery and glasses out to the small wrought-iron table in the tiny backyard. Olivia had done her best to brighten it up and make it an inviting place to eat during the summer months. White geraniums in two old terracotta tall pots livened up the two corners of the far wall and a lemon tree in another terracotta pot stood between them.
‘This is really nice,’ Thierry said. ‘Just the right size for two people.’
Olivia placed the salad bowl on the table.
‘Maman is always on at me to move upstairs and rent this apartment out, but…’ Olivia shrugged. ‘But this one was Auntie Daphne’s home, the flower room is handy and I like it. I feel close to her, if that isn’t silly.’ She returned to the kitchen and finished cooking the omelette, dished it up and carried the two plates out, placing them on the table. ‘Bon appétit.’
‘So, seriously, what do you think about the two businesses?’ Thierry asked, as they started to eat.
‘It’s such a funny combination when you think about it,’ Olivia said slowly. ‘Ideal for a married couple, especially if one is into the horticulture side of things. But I’m not sure about the viability of the violet farm – especially with climate change happening – but buying the activity side of the business with the house is definitely worth thinking about. Marie-France did say she’d thought about splitting it like that. How do you feel?’
‘I’m definitely interested in looking further into the activity business and buying the house.’ Thierry sighed. ‘But then I would feel bad to be responsible for breaking the businesses into separate bits. I think everything should be kept together like Marie-France and her husband set it up.’
Olivia nodded thoughtfully. ‘Breaking it up would probably mean one of the last violet farms in the Alpes-Maritimes would be lost and just become a three-hectare field, because surely nobody will want it without the adjacent sorting room and kitchen, both of which are too close to the house to be sold on.’
‘And I wouldn’t want that on my conscience,’ Thierry said. ‘So, if you’re not tempted to become my business partner and at least help me run the violet farm, paperwork aside, do I make Marie-France an offer for the outdoor activity business and the house? Or do I tell her sorry but it’s not for us? I did like the thought of living in Tourrettes, I have to admit.’
Olivia nodded. ‘The house was rather lovely.’ She could definitely see them both living there, sharing the house as business partners. Maybe even becoming ‘friends with benefits’. She pushed that thought away swiftly. ‘Of course, you could try to find another business partner just for the violet farm. Maybe there’s a local violet farmer who would like to expand and already has premises close by? They could just harvest each crop and deal with it on their own premises.’
‘That’s an idea,’ Thierry said thoughtfully.
The two of them spent the rest of the afternoon talking about both the violet farm and the activity centre, how much they both loved the house and what kind of deal would make it feasible for Thierry to buy the business. It was nearly six o’clock when Thierry said he had to go back to L’Abri.
‘I’ll think about it for forty-eight hours. I don’t think Marie-France has buyers clamouring at her door. And who knows inthose forty-eight hours you might come round to what I think is the best and right decision for both of us.’
‘Which is?’ Olivia stared at him.
‘For us to become business partners, move in to the house and run things together.A bientôt.’
And he was gone, leaving Olivia dumbstruck at the seriousness of his voice.
24
Maxine was still sitting in the garden, the uneaten food on her plate dried and discoloured from the sun, a wine glass and a half-empty bottle of red wine were all pushed to one side on the table, when Thierry arrived home. The opened envelope with its letter was in front of her.
‘How long have you been sitting here?’ Thierry asked gently, looking at her. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Since I got back from Puget. A couple of hours maybe.’ Maxine shrugged and tried to pull herself together, not wanting Thierry to be concerned. ‘Have a glass of wine with me and tell me about your day before I go and organise some supper for us.’
Thierry fetched a glass and poured himself a splash of wine and sat down. ‘My day can wait. And I’ll organise supper after we’ve talked.’ He glanced at the letter. ‘May I?’
Maxine nodded and he picked up the solicitor’s letter, quickly reading it before looking up at her.
‘She lives in Paris?’
Maxine nodded. ‘The 7th arrondissement. Just two or three streets away from our apartment. How ironic is that? We could have passed each other in the street unknowingly. Sat in thesame restaurants having a meal. Did you ever meet anyone called Leonie when you and Pierre lived there?’
‘Not that I remember,’ Thierry said. ‘Now you have the address, will you contact her?’
‘So much of me wants to dash up to Paris, knock on the door of her apartment and say, hi it’s me. But the other part of me knows that is not a good idea. If she closed the door in my face and rejected me…’ Maxine paused. ‘I couldn’t cope with that, it would truly break me.’ She took a sip of her drink. ‘Rejection by letter or email would be easier to handle than face to face.’
‘You are assuming that she will reject you,’ Thierry said. ‘She might be as desperate to meet you as you are to reconnect with her.’
‘Peut-être, but I know Daiva will have filled her head with lies and hate about me for over thirty years. I need to ask her to listen to my side of the story. After which she can decide.’ Maxine wiped away a tear that somehow had escaped while she was talking. ‘I want so much to hug her close again. I can only pray that she will let me.’
