‘The pool was irresistible,’ he said. ‘And I wanted to beat Maurice and Mathilde to it.’ He glanced at the poultry, greedily pecking away, the ducks joining in, as well as some opportunistic pigeons from the barn roof. ‘I think I did overdo it,’ he said ruefully.
Arielle laughed. She couldn’t help it.
‘You’ll be their friend for life now,’ she said dryly. ‘Watch your toes!’ she added sharply. ‘Jean-Paul likes to remind everyone he’s boss guy!’
Lycos stepped nimbly aside, as the cockerel headed purposefully towards him, wings stretching out.
‘He knows you’re male,’ Arielle said.
‘Please inform him…’ Lycos said gravely, dark eyes glinting, ‘…that the only designs I might have on his harem is a culinary one.’
She gave another laugh, heading for the hen house. ‘While they’re feasting, I’ll get the eggs gathered,’ she said.
It seemed strange to be having any kind of civil conversation with Lycos Dimistrios, she thought as she started to check for eggs.
Maybe, though, it makes a hideous situation easier to cope with? Gives me a semblance of normality. However impossible…
Perhaps in anticipation of their very generous breakfast, the hens had laid well and she emerged some minutes later with a full colander. Lycos had disappeared, but when she went into the kitchen, she could hear the shower running. She set the colander of fresh eggs on the work surface and stared out of the window. Her mood was strange, how could it not be? Her thoughts were stranger. Outside the poultry were still making the most of the unexpected largesse. She took a breath. This time yesterday her world had ended. Lycos had walked into her life and smashed it to pieces.
Now…
It’s still smashed. He might have let out the hens and fed them, and made himself at home in the pool—made himself at home, full stop—but he’s invaded my life and taken it from me.
She felt her chest and throat tighten. But what could she do about it? Nothing. Nothing at all.
I have to cope with this. I knew it was coming. Gerald and Naomi made it clear. Relished making it clear. My days here are numbered.
And now the countdown had begun. Entirely at Lycos Dimistrios’s timetable.
All I can do is bear it as well as I can.
Mechanically she got the coffee going, fetched milk from the fridge and set it to heat. From the ancient chest freezer, housed in what had been the old dairy but was now the utility with its old-fashioned washing machine, she removed a frozen baguette and some frozen croissants and popped them into the oven tothaw and warm through. Readying the breakfast tray made her chest tighten again. Putting out crockery and cutlery for two. Juicing some more oranges for them both. She might as well enjoy her oranges while she still had them.
‘How did the egg collection go?’ a voice behind her broke her painful reverie.
‘Plenty for an omelette if you want one,’ she said.
‘Sounds good,’ said Lycos. He leant against the door jamb. ‘Any orange juice?’
Wordlessly Arielle poured a glass for him, then busied herself breaking eggs for omelettes and making coffee. Checking the milk heating in its pan on the stove, she got out a skillet and set the butter to melt for the eggs. The routine, mechanical movements kept her mind from thinking. Kept herself from thinking.
She removed the warmed bread and croissants from the oven, wrapped them in a clean tea towel and placed them on the tray, together with the freshly made coffee and hot milk in jugs. She handed the laden tray to Lycos, who had drained his orange juice.
‘Take it out to the terrace,’ she instructed. ‘I’ll be out with the omelettes in a minute or two.’
For a moment he did not move, as if she’d asked him something outrageous.
‘I’m not your servant,’ she said. ‘If anything, I’m your guest,’ she added sweetly, holding the tray towards him.
Wordlessly he put his empty glass on the worktop, took the tray and disappeared with it. She went back to the smoking skillet and poured in the beaten eggs, deftly spreading and lifting them as they cooked. Minutes later she was emerging on to the terrace with two plates, each with a folded omelette on them, which she deposited on the table.
‘Bon appétit,’she said and got stuck in.
Lycos Dimistrios did likewise.
Together, under the bright morning sun, they ate. As they did, for reasons that made no sense at all, Arielle felt the tightness in her chest slacken. Imperceptibly, incomprehensibly, but slacken all the same.
Whatever it took to get her to bear what was happening, she would do it. Even if it meant being civil to the man who was taking her home from her.
