Without further ado, Rick unloaded the luggage and between them they carried it inside. Yolanda and Simone were presented with their flowers and both looked suitably gratified. It had been a good idea of Winnie’s, thought Vee with relief. The hall felt cool after the warmth of the street and she began to think longingly of a cold drink.
‘I don’t often say this to my guests, butyoucan park around the back if you like,cheri,’ said Simone, smiling so widely at Rick that a gold tooth flashed somewhere in her upper jaw. ‘Drive a few doors along the road and down the lane on your left; you’ll see a yard with a red baker’s van in it. You’ll be fine there. Hang on, it’ll be easier if I show you.’
As she said this, Simone came closer to Rick and took him by the arm, ushering him outside, presumably so that she could point him in the right direction to take. Vee felt a prickle of unease. Surely the woman didn’t need to hold on to Rick quite so tightly. The front door was ajar, and instead of opening it fully Simone made a big performance of squeezing past Rick to get through first. He looked bemused, blinking as they emerged into the sunlight. Vee could hear a trilling laugh even as they moved further away from the door. She shivered.
‘Not cold, are you?’ said Yolanda, fixing her niece with a beady stare. ‘Simone’s very friendly, she’ll look after you all well.’
‘I’m sure she will,’ said Vee, trying to tell herself that it was nothing to her if Rick wanted to gaze at the splendid bosoms of the lady of the house. He was a free man. He could do exactly as he liked.
The two were soon back, although Rick looked rather flushed and came to stand next to Vee as if in need of protection, so she began to relax. The woman was just exuberant, that was all, and Vee was tired. They collected their bags and cases, with Rick carrying as much as he possibly could and Vee helping with the rest. Soon, almost everyone was installed in a room with an en suite. Some had views over the quiet street and the rest looked out on the sheltered garden with its azure pool and pots of bright geraniums. Chantelle was curled up on a lounger in the sunshine, washing her whiskers. It was an idyllic scene.
‘This is going to be heaven,’ said Beryl, as she looked around her spacious room with its heavy oak furniture and enormous bed. ‘But Rick doesn’t have a place to sleep yet, does he? Where’s he going to go, Simone?’
Simone smiled. ‘Oh, don’t worry about your driver. I’ve had to put you in the annexe down by the pool, Rick. I only have seven guest rooms in the house but I’m sure you’ll be very cosy there. I’m still living upstairs in the flat over the annexe at the moment after the influx of summer visitors so you can call me if you need anything. I never sleep well, so don’t worry about waking me.’
Rick’s eyes met Vee’s, but then he turned and smiled back at Simone. ‘Yes, I’ll be fine wherever you want me… I mean…’ He gulped and stopped talking, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
Beryl suggested that they all adjourn to their rooms to unpack and freshen up, which Vee read ashave a bit of a nap. The others agreed with alacrity, except for Rick who was immediately spirited away by Simone to help her with the preparation of the paella.
‘I do so hate cleaning mussels,’ she said. ‘You don’t mind, do you? I miss having a strong man about the place to help around the house and I bet you’re a great cook too, aren’t you?’
Beryl gave a subtle wink in Vee’s direction but didn’t comment as Rick was ushered away. Yolanda was still waiting on the landing, watching the others depart to their various rooms. She didn’t seem keen to go anywhere. Vee yawned. It would be good to have a base for this last part of the holiday, and she was ready for a space of her own too but although their aim had been to see more of France than this, Vee’s focus had always been to see Yolanda, and now the time had come. She was torn between the urge to get the inevitable chat over with and a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach when she tried to imagine where such a conversation would lead.
‘Would you like to come back with me for coffee, or do you need a lie down?’ Yolanda asked her, in the tones of someone who considered having a lie down during the day to be a gross admission of defeat.
Vee sighed. ‘Just give me five minutes to unpack a few things and I’ll be with you,’ she said. ‘Will Simone mind if you wait for me in the garden?’
‘Oh,she’stoo preoccupied with her new kitchen hand to mind what the rest of us are getting up to,’ said Yolanda, grinning. ‘Your friend will need to watch his step, or he’ll be stuck in her web. Catching younger men is something of a hobby for that one.’
The image of Simone as a giant, man-eating spider wasn’t a comfortable one, and Vee shuddered. ‘Do you seriously think she’s interested in him?’ she asked, trying to look unconcerned. ‘I mean, Rick has a lot of emotional baggage. I’d hate to see him being used.’
Yolanda shrugged. ‘Only time will tell,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you by the pool. Don’t be long though. I need to get back to feed the girls.’
‘You’ve got friends staying?’
‘Myhens,’ said Yolanda, turning to go downstairs. ‘Hurry up, do. They don’t like waiting.’
Vee did as she was told, and was outside in less than ten minutes, feeling a lot better for having washed her face, changed into shorts and a sleeveless top and added a slick of lipstick. She’d swapped her trainers for sandals and felt more ready to face this next part of the day now she was properly in holiday mode. The autumnal temperature here was definitely higher than it had been at their last stop and she could smell the thyme and other herbs that grew in tubs near to the kitchen door. The fragrance of late climbing roses mingled with the sweet scent of honeysuckle. It was like being transported to a kinder, less frantic climate.
‘This is a lovely spot,’ Vee said to Yolanda as the older woman stood up, ready to be off.
‘It’s the best place in the world. I’ll never leave it. Come on, let’s get going. I must say you look a bit brighter now. Endlessly driving around always makes me feel like a limp rag so I don’t do it any more. When my last car died, I parked it around the back of my house and now I use it to store food for the girls. I much prefer having an extra shed to beetling around these lanes trying not to run over grumpy French farmers brandishing guns.’
Yolanda was talking as she walked, carrying her bunch of flowers under her arm as she led the way out of a back entrance from Simone’s garden into a narrow tree-lined lane. Vee saw Rick’s van as they passed a yard on the right and briefly wondered how he was faring in the kitchen, but Yolanda was still in full flow, and it wasn’t easy to keep up with her and listen at the same time.
‘Here we are,’ she was saying as they skirted a row of tumbledown outbuildings and emerged into a secluded kitchen garden, sheltered by a stone wall and a rampant shrubbery. ‘I bought this place for a song, years ago,’ she said as they headed for a rather ramshackle cottage at the end of the path. ‘The owner died, and his kids didn’t want the bother of it. Excuse the mess.’
Yolanda opened the back door, and Vee followed her aunt into a small kitchen, complete with range and stone sink. At first glance it looked as if nothing had changed in there since the year dot but then she noticed the gingham curtains at the window. The blue and white of their check was echoed in the pottery that lined the wooden dresser that filled one wall. The scrubbed pine table in the centre of the room could hardly be seen for piles of books, papers and the general paraphernalia of someone who lived alone and had no desire to tidy up just for the sake of it.
‘It’s a tiny house but it’s big enough for me and the girls,’ said Yolanda. As she spoke, a loud clucking could be heard, and in through the open door came five beautiful hens in assorted colours and with a wide variety of plumage. Most were handsome and healthy-looking but one looked as if she’d been in a battle. They all made for Yolanda and began to fluff up their feathers.
‘We’ll not be able to chat until I’ve dealt with these ladies,’ said Yolanda, looking down at her brood fondly. ‘There are another three waiting outside, I’ll be bound. Here we have Bella, Esmerelda, Lucy, Camilla and Felicity. Bella’s not been very well, as you can probably see. Why don’t you put the kettle on and make us a pot of coffee while I sort out their teatime? And you can dig out a vase for those flowers from the dresser.’
Vee experienced a sharp pang of nostalgia, remembering how her mum had loved the hens that had scratched around happily in their back garden when she was a child. Feeding them each day had been one of Vee’s jobs, and she’d been proud of being given the responsibility of collecting eggs too. She gazed dreamily at the hens, wondering again if it would be possible to reinstate the chicken coop behind Dragonfly Cottage.
‘Coffee?’ her aunt repeated, giving Vee a nudge.
Before Vee could ask any useful questions, such as ‘Where will I find everything else?’, Yolanda was off, with her five charges following close behind making happy noises. Vee looked around, wondering if she was going to have to tackle the range, but it was stone cold. With relief, she spied a reasonably modern electric kettle and the cupboard above it revealed mugs and a tin of ground coffee beside a battered stainless-steel cafetiere. While she waited for the water to boil, Vee located a substantial stone vase and quickly arranged the flowers. Soon the fragrant scent of coffee brewing brought Yolanda back inside, sniffing appreciatively.
