A Year of Taking Chances: a gorgeously uplifting, feel-good read. Jennifer Bohnet
It’s a traditional design in this area. We just need one with more space.’
Ben drew up alongside a scarlet Range Rover that was parked in front of the house. As they got out of the car Jodie said, ‘Who does that belong to?’ but before Ben could answer, Annette Delahaye had opened her front door and come out to greet them.
‘There you are. Last to arrive.’
As she was enveloped in a tight hug, Jodie fleetingly remembered Tina’s warning. ‘Mothers-in-law can be difficult,’ she’d said. ‘And we all know how close French men are to their mothers. She’ll probably turn out to be the mother-in-law from hell.’
Jodie smiled at the memory as she kissed Annette’s cheek. In the short time she’d known her, Jodie had become very fond of Ben’s widowed mother. A woman of copious energy and somebody you felt instinctively drawn to, she’d wholeheartedly welcomed Ben’s choice of wife into her family. Jodie knew she couldn’t have asked for a better mother-in-law.
‘Désolé,’ Ben said. ‘Rue du Berger was closed.’
‘Ah, my fault then. I forgot to warn you about that,’ Annette said, turning to Jodie and taking her by the hand. ‘Come on in and meet everybody.’
‘Everybody’ included Adele and Bernard, who were nearby neighbours, Thierry Francis, who Annette introduced simply as ‘my friend’ with no further explanation, and, to Jodie’s surprise and delight, Nicola and her husband, Gilles.
As she said, ‘It’s lovely to see you again’ to Nicola, Jodie couldn’t help noticing the scowl that flitted across Ben’s face when he saw Thierry. Mmm… her husband clearly didn’t like his mother’s friend although he was perfectly polite to him, at first.
Too early in the year to eat supper outside, Annette had set the table in the conservatory that ran the length of the house overlooking the garden at the rear. Small lamps placed in strategic places around the room and candles that flickered down the length of the table, interspersed with bowls of flower heads and floating candles, created a gentle ambience.
The food, a simple lamb stew followed by a pomme tarte tatin, was delicious. Conversation, in a mixture of English and French, some of which Jodie was able to join in with, veered from the weather to the number of tourists the village could expect in the summer. And then, over the cheese course, Ben said to Thierry, ‘I see you’ve got your cottage on the market. Bit expensive even for around here.’
Even though he spoke in French, Jodie understood enough and realised with a start that he was talking about the cottage she liked. She saw, too, the quick, worried look Annette gave Ben and the way her shoulders tensed at his provocative tone as he spoke to Thierry.
‘Are you planning on moving back down south?’
Thierry, for his part, regarded Ben steadily. ‘Oui, it’s a possibility, but a lot depends on other things, and other people,’ he said.
An awkward silence followed before Gilles turned to Jodie and started a new conversation, in English, on how vibrant a city London was.
‘So full of energy. I love my visits there. And did you know London is the sixth-largest French city these days? So many of us have crossed the Channel for work. But now, of course, there are the worries over Brexit.’ He shook his head. ‘Things will change, that’s for sure.’
‘There’s a certain buzz about the place,’ Jodie said. ‘I have to admit I’m looking forward to returning with Ben for the London Book Fair in a few weeks.’ She turned to smile at him. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask, which hotel have you booked us into?’
‘Umm…’ Ben bit his lip as he looked at her. A habit of his she already recognised as a sign of nervousness.
‘Or would your agent have done it?’ she asked.
‘Can we talk about this later?’ Ben said. ‘In private.’
‘Of course,’ Jodie said quickly, suddenly aware of the silence around them as everyone tried in vain to ignore their muted voices.
‘Jodie. A drop more wine?’ Thierry asked.
Jodie picked up her glass and held it out. ‘Thank you.’
The mention of London had made her realise just how much she was looking forward to their visit in a couple of weeks. Not just to catch up with Tina and all her news but to take some flowers to her mum’s grave, wander down Oxford Street for some retail therapy, maybe go to the theatre one evening.
Thoughtfully, she looked around the table. The convivial supper party had developed a certain undercurrent of unease due to Ben. What was the matter with her husband this evening? First his barely concealed rudeness to Thierry, and now evading her question about London and hotels.
Surely Ben wasn’t thinking about cancelling their visit to London when he knew how much she was looking forward to it? He wouldn’t – would he?
Tina straightened the cream throw she’d placed over the settee and attempted to relax as seven o’clock approached. Telling Maisie she could come and see the flat wasn’t tantamount to saying ‘You can move in’ before they’d even met, was it?
Lots of things needed to be discussed before that stage was reached – if it was reached at all. Some basic house rules would have to be laid down: no smoking, respect each other’s space, no leaving dishes to soak in the sink, a rota set up for the housework. Rules about privacy and bringing people back to the flat would have to be agreed.
Of course, none of this had been necessary when Jodie had lived here – they’d known instinctively what the other would like and how they would react to things. But Maisie was a stranger with who knew what kind of habits.
By one minute to seven Tina had convinced herself having a stranger as a flatmate was totally the wrong thing to do. She didn’t need or want one. She’d got used to having the place to herself. Being a slob if she felt like it; being obsessive over housework if the mood took her – or ignoring it totally for days. Coming home after a day at the agency working with Leah, she’d come to appreciate the silence and the fact that there was no one she had to talk to. Granted, mornings tended to be a problem for her, but then that wasn’t something she expected a new flatmate to help with. It was her problem.
But it was too late to cancel now; Maisie would be here any minute. So she’d be polite, go through the motions of discussing things and then suggest they both took a couple of days to think things over. In reality, Tina knew she’d already made her decision. She was happy with the status quo and didn’t need a stranger as a flatmate. Until she found someone she knew and liked who needed somewhere to live, she’d continue to top up the rent from her savings. It wouldn’t be forever. Imagine if she unwittingly found herself living with someone like Leah. She shuddered. No, she wasn’t going to take that risk.
Opening the door a few seconds later, after a gentle knock that if she hadn’t been listening for she’d have missed, Tina blinked. She hadn’t expected this. ‘Oh.’
Standing in front of her with a hopeful smile was a fair-haired girl – no way was she old enough to be called a woman. With her black-velvet jacket, torn jeans and blonde hair cropped short, she looked more like an escapee from a boy band. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that Maisie could be so young? She’d simply assumed she’d be near her own and Beth’s age, not someone who looked as if she should still be in kindergarten. Holding the door open and, despite trying not to, staring at the girl, Tina felt completely wrong-footed.
‘Hi. I’m Maisie,’ a quiet voice told her.
‘Come in,’ Tina said, feeling her earlier resolve not to offer Maisie a room weakening instantly. Why couldn’t Maisie have turned out to be older and a goth or something weird, rather than somebody who looked incredibly sweet and naive as well as absurdly young? And in desperate need of a helping hand.