Page 2 of A French Inheritance
Briony and her best friend at work, Maeve from accounts, walked out of the building for the last time, holding their few belongings. As the doors with their over-the-top Fort Knox-security-type system slammed behind her, Briony flinched. Shut out forever.
‘Commiseration coffee?’ Maeve said, nodding in the direction of the café where they habitually got their lunch sandwiches.
Briony nodded and followed Maeve across the road and into the café.
The two of them sipped their coffees, both deep in their own thoughts.
‘A decent reference, but six months’ pay isn’t going to go far,’ Maeve said resignedly.
‘You’re a good accountant, you ran the accounts department brilliantly. I know you’ll be snapped up once word gets around that you’re available,’ Briony said.
Maeve shrugged. ‘Hope so. Both kids are off to college soon and you know how much that costs parents these days.’
Briony did know, but only because it had been a major concern of Maeve’s for weeks now. Perhaps it was a small mercy now that she was divorced and as much as she had longed for a family, babies had never been on the agenda for Marcus. She gave Maeve a sympathetic smile before taking a last sip of her coffee and replacing the mug on the table.
‘They say things happen in threes, don’t they? I did wonder what the third disaster was going to be for me after Granny Giselle dying and my divorce. Turned out to be redundancy. And guess what arrived earlier this morning? My decree absolute.’
‘Well that’s good, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. I should be celebrating, but…’ Briony shrugged.
‘Oh Briony.’ Maeve reached out a hand and touched Briony’s briefly. ‘I know the last few months have been hard for you, but you are better off without Marcus in the long term. Your gran was in her eighties, and you say she’d had a good life. As for this redundancy, look on it as giving you total freedom. You’re free now to have a completely new beginning in both your love life and your career. You are free to do your own thing. I wish I could say the same, but there are too many responsibilities still to walk away from. Maybe once the girls finish college.’
Briony looked at her curiously. ‘You’re happy with Brian and the girls though, aren’t you? You wouldn’t change your marriage or your family life, would you?’
Maeve shook her head. ‘Of course not. I wouldn’t want to be without either of them. But I would like to think that one day I can do something different. Ever had a holiday on a narrowboat?’
‘No,’ Briony said, surprised at the change of subject.
‘We took the girls a couple of years ago. It was wonderful. Gliding along the canal, all the wildlife, the birds, so peaceful and yet invigorating. I’d love to live like that, exploring places, meeting new people,’ Maeve sighed. ‘Like I said when the girls leave home, maybe I can persuade Brian to sell up and buy a canal boat.’ She smiled at Briony and shrugged. ‘Dreams, eh?’
Briony nodded in agreement but found herself inwardly wondering where her own dreams had gone over the last few years.
‘Are you going to start job hunting straight away?’ Maeve asked. ‘I am.’
‘Definitely. But Mum and I are supposed to be going to France to sort Granny Giselle’s things out. Mum has had a letter from the French notaire and he needs a rendez-vous with her. And we also have to decide whether we want anything from the cottage before putting it on the market.’
‘Your mum doesn’t fancy keeping it as a holiday home? Or even living in it full-time? Lots of people would love the opportunity to live in the South of France.’
Briony shook her head. ‘She hasn’t suggested it. I’d miss her if she did that, so selfishly I hope that doesn’t happen. Although I suppose I could go for holidays.’
After they’d finished their coffees, they hugged each other goodbye, promised to keep in touch and Maeve set off for the bus stop whilst Briony walked slowly back to her new, meant-to-be-temporary place, deep in thought.
She’d expected that her seven-year tenure as team manager would keep her safe from redundancy. In the eight years she’d been with the auction house as well as managing her team, she’d also gained the grand-sounding title, Deputy Sales Manager. In reality, she’d organised everything for the general auctions the company held both in Bristol and the surrounding area. This was the year she’d hoped the word deputy would be lost, that she’d be awarded a pay rise and she would become the Sales Manager when Todd retired at the end of the year. The plans she’d started to think about for the rest of her life when the divorce was finalised hadn’t factored in the practical necessity of finding a new job.
Briony arrived back at her current flat deep in thought. She’d taken the six-month shorthold rental lease on a furnished one-bedroom flat in a new build not far from work as a stopgap when she and Marcus had separated. Four months down the line, she still didn’t think of it as a home. It was just a place to eat, sleep and go to work from. Once the divorce was done and dusted, she’d planned to get on the property ladder with a two-bedroom flat in Clifton Village with a view of the Suspension Bridge. Property brochures were piled on the bedside table. Bedtime reading that had been sending her to sleep with a happy smile dreaming of her future home. Had today scuppered her plan? It would definitely delay it – no job equalled no mortgage.
Marcus had bought the flat they’d lived in just before they were married and over the eight years they were together, she’d paid half of the mortgage. When it all fell apart, Marcus had told her bluntly that he had every intention of staying there. His fury when the divorce lawyers had worked out the sum she was entitled to in her divorce settlement was unsuppressed. Petty revenge meant that he’d got rid of the expensive state-of-the-art coffee machine that she’d treated herself to for her birthday one year before she’d had a chance to collect it.
Inside the flat, Briony placed her things on the kitchen table next to her laptop. She took out of her bag the envelope containing the decree absolute, that she’d pounced on so happily this morning telling herself, ‘My new life begins today’ and placed it on top of the debris from her working life. Because now that new life couldn’t start.
Briony pulled out a kitchen chair and sat at the table. She needed to get organised and at least make a plan to try to kick-start job hunting and put some sort of money-saving strategy in place. She also needed to start to figure out something to do for the rest of her life. Or, at the very least, the next few months, getting back on an even keel. Of course, making appointments to view the flats she’d been eying on Rightmove wasn’t going to happen now. Instead she would be scrolling through LinkedIn and other job pages on the internet.
While she waited for the laptop to boot up, she took the mobile out of her bag and called her mum. Jeannie Aubert answered almost immediately.
‘Everything okay? You don’t normally ring from work.’
‘Last day today. I’m now officially unemployed.’
