He shrugged and looked hopelessly at her. She dropped the bag she was carrying, pulled herself up onto another stool and took his hand.
‘What’s happened? You look awful. Can I help?’
‘Nobody can help. What is done is done, but oh, how I wish it wasn’t. It is Veronique. You know I told you about her when I first came to England, when you rescued me?’
‘I rather thinkyourescuedme, I couldn’t believe it when you agreed to come. What’s happened?’
He flicked on the iPad and opened the article for a second time, holding it out to Sylvia, who looked at it briefly, then back up at him.
‘I can’t understand a word of this, Léo, you’ll have to explain.’
He took a deep breath.
‘Veronique, she has entered a show where she lives in a castle with others, to find love –Le Chateau d’Amour.’
‘A reality TV thing?’
‘Oui, that is right. She has said that I treated her with great cruelty, that I had always known she was married, that I abandoned her when she needed me most.’
‘And are those things true?’
‘It is true that I left France – but she had left me, returned to her husband, and I was being vilified in the press. I thought it was best for us all that I go. I have caused so much pain.’
‘So, the things she has said in this article – they’re lies?’
‘Yes, yes. I did not know she was married when we met. I did not abandon her. I did not treat her in the way she says. It is true she had a miscarriage when we were together, but she says she had several and I did not know of any others. Maybe I should leave here too.’
‘What!’ Sylvia’s hand flew to her chest. ‘Léo, you can’t go. I need you; Feywood needs you. What good would leaving do?’
‘It is clear that I bring misery when I do not mean to. If she says these things, if she hates me as much as she seems to, found me controlling and cold…maybe I do not realise the damage I do? I do not want to risk bringing this to you.’
‘Oh, poppycock,’ said Sylvia, relaxing her hand and looking annoyed now. ‘It sounds to me as if this Veronique is doing everything she can for column inches, and blaming you is the perfect way to go about it. Tell me what you did right.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘What did you doright, in all this mess? You are doing what she wants you to do: taking the blame and guilt for everything. So, what did you do right?’
Léo thought for a moment.
‘When I found out that she was married, I ended things.’
‘Good.’
‘But I was still responsible for finishing their marriage…’
‘Why? It sounds to me as if that responsibility lies firmly at Veronique’s door. What else did you do right?’
‘I – I – I tried to apologise to her husband. And I am sure I did not treat her badly, but I should have been more careful, I should have known things. I rushed in with passion and should have been more careful. You say in English that “fools rush in”, I think?’
‘Yes, “fools rush in where angels fear to tread”. But Léo, feeling that way about someone and failing to do a full background check is hardly a crime.’ He smiled. Sylvia’s brisk approach was making him feel better. ‘It washerresponsibility to tell you about her marriage. You cannot take all the blame.’
‘Maybe. But she is clearly vulnerable, and I wish I had been more careful. I have not only left all this hurt and hate behind me in France, but I risked my reputation. What if this news surfaceswhen more people learn about the cookery school, or when the book is published? I will bring with me a dark cloud.’
‘You’ll do nothing of the sort. I’m glad to have you here, and we can worry about any of that stuff when and if it happens. For now, I’m going to put the cheese I just collected from the farm in the fridge before it melts all over the floor, then I have an appointment to get to in Oxford.’
When she had gone, Léo was encouraged, if not wholly convinced by Sylvia’s practical approach. The temporary soothing and numbing effects of the alcohol, carbs and fat were beginning to wear off and he felt tired and sick. It was tempting to go up to the house, to his room, and lie down for a while. For a moment, the image of collapsing onto the large, comfortable bed, having drawn the curtains against the afternoon sun, was mesmerising, but instead he stood up and marched to the sink.
Non, Léo. A sleep in the afternoon won’t do you any good. Fresh air is what you need, fresh air and water, then work.
