With only limited experience in the field of renovation, did she want to come here on a permanent basis, or even stay in France for an extended period, taking on a job she might be woefully unprepared to complete? Had he really meant it when he’d suggested she might then consider taking on the housekeeping side of the wine-tasting holiday business – and was that something she was even interested in doing?
With the mammoth task ahead of him should he choose to buy the chateau, it sounded more as though he needed to be looking for a business partner to join forces with, not enlist the dodgy help of some random woman he’d only just met.
She might feel a gut-deep, inexplicable sense of belonging in this dilapidated building, and with this person, but she’d gone on gut instinct before, and everything had gone terribly wrong.
Johnny sighed. ‘No. I get it. I just thought—’
‘You’re not being fair,’ she said, exasperation edging into her voice as Johnny’s shoulders slumped and he made to turn away. ‘I don’t know what you’re asking of me. What do I think about what, exactly? Precisely what am I supposed to be interested or not interested in?’
Johnny turned back, hauling in a huge breath as he studied her. Then he nodded.
‘You’re right, I’m being utterly unfair.’ He headed for the doors. ‘Until I sort out my own shit, I’m in no position to expect anything from anyone else, least of all from you. I apologise, Fran.’
Before Fran could reply, Johnny hauled open the door and Henri re-entered, expression animated as he waited for Johnny to speak.
‘I’m not going to proceed any further at the moment, Monsieur Blanc. Thank you so much for showing us around, but we won’t waste any more of your time.’
Henri Blanc’s expression faltered, but he was quick to reinstate his smile.
‘Mon plaisir. It has been delightful to meet both of you and I hope you will take some time to reconsider.’ He sidled up to Johnny, as though to offer him a confidence. ‘I wish you to know the owners are willing to be very flexible on price. They are eager to sell. I’m not supposed to mention this, but …’ He shook his head. ‘You both look very much at home in Chateau des Rêves – the Chateau of Dreams I think you would call it. I would be kicking my own shin if I didn’t do my best for the sellers, and for you.’
The Chateau of Dreams. The irony was almost too much to bear, and Fran had to turn away.
‘You change your mind, or need any further information, you phone meimmédiatement.’ Henri clasped Johnny’s hand, then hers, before he took his leave.
The journey back to the hotel was heavy with silence. Even though something had shifted in the atmosphere between the two of them, Fran didn’t feel uncomfortable seated beside Johnny. There was quiet, but not the horrible, loaded silence of a journey with a pissed-off Victor. Somehow the fact that she’d called Johnny out hadn’t angered him, instead it had saddened her. He was clearly lost in thought, perhaps spending the time contemplating what he wanted from his future.
The quiet solemnity inside the car, and the hiss from the tyres on hot tarmac, lulled Fran into her own self-reflection. What did she want Johnny to have offered her? What would it take for her to cash in what little she owned in the UK and make the move across the Channel? What reassurances did she need in order to do something so bold?
And where did Bill Wilding fit into all of this?
‘The thing is my renovation skills are limited. It’s just a hobby. I only do furniture,’ she said, piercing the quiet with what sounded like a random statement, once she’d said it out loud.
‘I had no intention of asking you to renovate the whole chateau,’ Johnny replied, gaze fixed on the road ahead. ‘Is that what you thought I meant?’
‘I don’t know. And that’s the problem.’ Fran sighed. ‘You’re not the only one with stuff going on, Johnny.’
‘No. I don’t suppose I am.’
‘Asking someone to totally change direction and move to a foreign country on a whim? You do understand that’s a lot to expect, don’t you?’
‘A whim?’
‘I need clarity. I already have a job. A life.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘Somehow looking around with that agent made it all feel very real, you know? And I’m not sure I understand what you want. I’m not sureyouunderstand what you want. Not right now, anyway.’
They lapsed into silence again and the scrunching of the hotel’s gravelled drive came as a relief, a chance for Fran to make her escape from a situation she wanted to run from and cling to, all at the same time.
Back in her staff quarters, Fran attempted to anchor herself by putting some final details in the report she intended to send to Wilding Holdings. It was time to focus on the life she already had, the life she was only beginning to get her head around, a life in which she was no longer alone but instead had a father. A father who had offered her an opportunity for travel and experiences outside anything Fran had expected from her life.
Reading back through the report, she tidied a few paragraphs, softening some of the comments she’d made about the conditions faced by the staff. Making sure she’d included what she’d discovered about the issues with the locals and the lack of support for local businesses, and after she’d double-checked the document, Fran emailed it to the Wilding Holdings’ server address and set her phone down. At least she was on track with one aspect of her life.
Once she’d changed back into uniform, Fran went in search of Penny. She’d left her on a negative vibe and wanted to tell her that she’d mentioned both her and Harry in her report, had done her best to stress what a good job the staff were all doing under difficult circumstances. Fran was sure Penny would bepleased and was hopeful that it would open a line of discussion leading to whatever had upset her.
There was no sign of Penny in the kitchen. Harry and Louis were both hard at work prepping for the dinner service – Fran didn’t think she’d once set foot in the kitchen without seeing the two chefs head down and knives out – but Louis appeared distracted, his attention straying to the radio, his hands falling still as he paused to listen to the insistent, unrelenting voice.
