Sense and French Ability (20 page)

Fliss she felt she was being manoeuvred and, with a pink face, she glanced at Jean Chri. He was smiling expansively at her, and winked. Her tummy swooshed. He knew exactly what had just occurred and he was very happy about it.

Fliss smiled her response.

At that point Melodie trotted back into the room, very carefully guarding the pot of sugar lumps for the coffee. They sat around the table waiting for her to put the pot safely down, and silently signalling across at Amélie for approval, Fliss asked Melodie if she would like to stay.

“Oh yes please.” She hopped from one foot to the other and clapped her hands. Her blonde hair bounced with her and her face radiated pleasure, ensuring they all smiled back at her.

“I shall go and get my nightie and toothbrush. Choupinette can come too can’t she?”

“I hope she will,” Jean Chri agreed. “It wouldn’t be such fun without her would it?”

As she left the room there sounded a distant rumble.

“Was that thunder? “Will Melodie be frightened if there is a storm? Maybe you would prefer her to stay here.”

“She’ll be fine. She will sleep right through it and if it arrives here before she goes to bed she will not be scared. The last one she thought was very exciting,” Amélie replied.

It was not long before it was time for them to collect up Melodie, and all her paraphernalia, and head for home.

“I’ll drive you,” Pascal said. “I know it is not far, but Melodie’s overnight bag has ended up with quite a few extra bits in it and she is starting to get tired again.”

It seemed easier to accept the lift offered.

They clambered from the car outside Jean Chri’s house. Thanks had already been said and so Fliss hurried indoors with Melodie’s bag. She was very conscious of being seen. How she wished for his divorce to come through soon.

‘I detest being furtive,’ she thought

Pascal said to Melodie, “I’ll see you tomorrow, little one. I hope you both get a good night,” he added to Jean Chri with a smile.

There was another distant rumble and they determined to get indoors before there were any large splatters of rain. The sky had a weird, unnatural greenish tinge around the darkness of the coming clouds that had finally blocked out the sun.

If only they could have known then what they later learned, Pascal would not have driven away in such a carefree manner…

Chapter 20

Jean Chri and Melodie hurried indoors to join Fliss. The sky was dark although it was not late.

“We need to put on the lights straight away,” Fliss said.

As Amélie suggested, Melodie was completely unperturbed by the change in the weather. She happily skipped from room to room ensuring all was as she remembered from her previous visit.

Jean Chri took Fliss’s hand and drew her to him, for which she was grateful. It did seem very strange and she felt like a usurper. When she had been there previously they were intimate. They were carried away each time on a wave of emotion and involvement. Somehow, this time Fliss was aware that they were making an even greater commitment to a long term future. Still no such words had passed between them, but she was sure they both had a certainty of their advanced relationship. Fliss had not felt so positive for a long time.

Melodie re-appeared clutching Choupinette and asked, “Can I have something to eat, please?”

“Of course, ma petite chérie. Have you really got a space? It’s not long since you had a big dinner,” Jean Chri said.

“Mmm, I’m really hungry,” Melodie answered.

What would you like?” Fliss asked, breaking away.

Jean Chri sorted something out for her, glancing at Fliss from time to time to ensure she was alright. Fliss smiled at him as she watched his domestication.

Before sitting at the table, Melodie came and took Fliss by the hand, pulling her to the seat next to hers. Fliss felt a rush of warmth for this beautiful child. It was almost an ache and a feeling that she had not experienced thus far. It surprised her. The flash of thought charged through her mind that she could miss creating children with this wonderful man. He would make such a good father. She was running out of time.

There was a distant rumble of thunder and suddenly the bushes of the hedge outside the window swayed in a stiff breeze.

“We are definitely in for a storm. It’s coming closer,” Fliss remarked, “Perhaps it will clear the air.”

Getting up to look out of the window, up the road and beyond, Fliss saw the wind was now whipping the trees, showing the paler undersides of the leaves and eddying clouds of dust around and along. Then some large splatters of rain hit the window. There was a flitter of nervous excitement deep down as she saw a flash of lightning in the distance and she could not help the childhood habit of counting until she heard the rumble of associated thunder to see how far away the storm was. Glancing across at Melodie, Fliss saw that she had not even noticed the approaching weather – so intent was she in giggling about whatever Jean Chri was teasing her.

There was another clap of thunder, and another.

“There must be more than one storm and they are approaching. The gap between the lightning and the noise is getting shorter,” Jean Chri said to Fliss.

The rain that had been threatening for so long was coming down in slanting rods and with the wind. The view up the road towards Fliss’s house was limited, the rain was so heavy.

“We don’t really need rain like this,” Jean Chri stated, looking across at Fliss. “It will just run off the land. It needs to be more steady and constant. What we do not need is all the soil to be washed back into the village and into the drains again. It set like concrete down the sides of the roads after the rain cleared before. I hope it didn’t set in the storm drains like that.”

Trying not to sound worried because Melodie would pick up on her tone, “That won’t necessarily happen though will it?” Fliss asked this as nonchalantly as possible.

“No, probably not,” he agreed, coming to join her at the window, putting his brown arms securely around her waist and nuzzling her neck.

As Melodie finished her last mouthful she joined them. Jean Chri lifted her up to see out of the window, enclosing her in their circle.

“Well, little one, what would you like to do now? Shall we play a card game? Jeu des Sept Familles perhaps?”

“In England we call it Happy Families.” Fliss glanced at Jean Chri with eyes full of meaning.

They settled comfortably and amicably at the table with their game of cards as the storm approached and the thunder rumbled more frequently. Then there was an almighty crash, indicating it was very close indeed. Laughing, Melodie acknowledged how much all three of them had jumped with surprise.

“Oh that was funny,” she said, giggling again. “You nearly dropped your cards Fliss.”

“Certainly, I nearly did.”

As they played, the storm rumbled further away but it continued to rain hard. There were distant sheets of lightning that registered in Fliss’ peripheral vision as the thunder gradually receded. Eventually they finished their game and it was time for Melodie to go to bed.

“Will you take me, Fliss?”

They stood and Melodie took her hand again as they walked along the hallway to the room that was hers. It was a room that Jean Chri and Maryl had decorated for her some time ago. It was pretty and delicate, of course, and the bed had a little shell pink canopy of voile coming from a tiara shaped circlet hanging from the ceiling. The bedding did not match, however, and looked as if it had been borrowed from elsewhere. Fliss determined to change this as soon as possible. Through her mind flitted images of little girls’ coverlets and pillow slips that she just knew Melodie would love.

Fliss was conscious that she would need to make her mark in Jean Chri’s house, but it seemed insensitive to sweep in and change things too much, too quickly.

Melodie took a thin and colourful book from the shelf once she was washed and her teeth were brushed. She asked Fliss to read to her, once she was tucked up under her covers. Fliss lay on top of the bed next to her. It was a simple book, the language of which Fliss could understand easily, now, and read with meaning in her voice. Loving this, Fliss kissed her goodnight and Melodie snuggled down.

Fliss knew it had knocked her a little sideways. She was just playing at being a mum.

Heading back to the living room and Jean Chri, she heard the rain continuing to come down, hitting the windows and the roof. It sounded steady and heavy.

*

“This rain sounds heavy,” Harriet addressed Jo. “I might just check the cellar.”

“It should be fine, shouldn’t it?” Jo asked this blithely. “Do it if you want to, of course.”

Harriet crossed the room and opened the little door. She ducked her head and went down the first two steps.

“The pump has come on but it’s not very deep,” she observed.

“It should be able to cope. You’ve had rain like before that was quite heavy surely,” Jo reassured her partner.

“I know, it’s just me,” Harriet said. “It seems a bit weird to have a house under which there is constant water. I still haven’t quite got used to it even after all these years.”

“When I came I was the same but it doesn’t seem to affect the walls or the main structure at all. It just depends how high the water table is, I gather. The pump comes on automatically. Nothing to worry about,” Jo said as if she knew all about it.

“That last clap of thunder was close by. I hope nothing was hit,” Harriet remarked. “There has been a lot of sheet lightning but I did see some was forked too. Anyway, it seems to be moving away now.”

“Are you worried about the storm?” Jo asked, unusually quiet in a concerned tone.

“I really don’t like it,” Harriet answered. “When I was little a house across the road was struck by lightning. It went through the roof and broke the toilet in half.”

“Lucky no-one was sitting on it at the time.” Jo smiled, characteristically and mischievously, at the thought.

“It did blow all the sockets out of the walls apparently, as well, and I think ever since then I’ve been a little nervous,” Harriet added.

“We are low down here. It would hit something else before us. We’ll be alright. I’ll make sure of that,” Jo said confidently, resting a hand on Harriet’s shoulder as she passed behind the chair upon which she has returned to sit and kissing the top of her head lightly. Harriet placed her hand upon Jo’s and looked up at her with love and affection.

“I am so lucky to have found you,” she said with feeling.

“Likewise,” Jo agreed. “Now get up, you lazybones, and let’s get dinner ready.”

With that they both went into the kitchen and, having cooked and eaten sausages with potato and white cabbage rosti, it was at least another hour later before Harriet remembered the water in the cellar. It was getting dark and too difficult to see the river from the house since the pathway rose slightly to the lane and the water beyond. Even upstairs from the bedroom window it was still raining so hard it was difficult to make out the level.

The bathroom was downstairs and on her way back from there Harriet surreptitiously opened the cellar door. To her surprise she was sure the level of the water was higher. Surely that should not be the case if the pump was working properly.

“Do you ever get the pump serviced?”

“Oh yes, annually,” Harriet answered.

“Will you stop worrying then,” Jo scolded gently. “You’ve been having a sneaky peek through the door again, haven’t you?”

“I’m just interested.” Harriet pretended cool composure.

“Now come here and let’s get an early night. All that wine and funning around last night has left me exhausted.”

Jo was referring to an impromptu games evening that she had instigated with a couple from another village the previous night. They had played all kinds of daft games from tiddly winks to outdoor quoits. They had invented several games with made-up rules too and called it garden Olympics. The more wine that flowed the more laughing there was and the more ridiculous it all became. It was quite late by the time their evening had finally come to an end. In fact, evening had become early morning.

Now, as they climbed the narrow, steep staircase and walked along the landing under the eaves of the little house they could hear the rain insistently drumming on the roof. Harriet was unsure about how much sleep she would get that night but Jo gave an immense yawn as she went into the bedroom.

“Oh blast, I’ve left my phone downstairs,” Harriet said and ran down to get it.

*

Jean Chri had laid out two glasses and found a half empty bottle of wine by the time Fliss returned to the living room.

“This will relax you,” he said understanding her tension. “We’ll have a quiet supper and an early night, shall we?”

This suited her well and they prepared and ate a simple, light meal since they had eaten so heartily with Pascal and Amélie earlier.

Only a little later, holding hands as best they could in the narrow space along the hallway to Jean Chri’s room, they peeped in on Melodie before they went on. They saw that she had pushed the covers off and had flung her arms above her head in her secure sleep. Jean Chri let go of Fliss and gently tucked the covers back in, stroking the hair from Melodie’s face and softly planting a kiss on the top of her head. She stirred, snuggled into the covers, but did not awake. As he stood Jean Chri looked sheepishly at Fliss and shrugged as much as to say, ‘Well, I do love her’. Of course he did. She was adorable. It was so rare to hear her whining or complaining. She was rarely cross, and when she was upset she seemed soon to come out of it. Fliss’s experience of children was limited, but she could see that Melodie was an easy, delightful child

Pushing their door closed without shutting it tightly, Jean Chri turned to Fliss in her awkwardness. His strong brown arms encircled her and she rested her head against his chest with a sigh, fitting in the crook of his shoulder perfectly with her right hand against his heart.

Unhurriedly he released her, gently took her cardigan and slid it down her arm. He kissed her neck behind her ear causing her to shudder in a most pleasurable way. Next, he slowly undid the buttons at the front of her shirt; one by one. He finished undressing her as Fliss was finally naked, but not embarrassed because he had said she was beautiful, and he shed his shirt and trousers quickly.

By an unspoken agreement, they lay together and with his arms enfolding her, drifting asleep without further intimacy. Fliss was completely content.

Later, at some indeterminate hour, whilst it was still dark, Fliss felt his hands on her body; those strong, brown hands that she loved so much. Picturing them as she felt them exploring in the darkness, with the rain still lashing the windows, they made love slowly in the most intimate and desirable way.

Afterwards they lay exhausted and entwined, drifting back to sleep in a haze of love and satisfaction.

*

The late afternoon was unnaturally dim as Jerome made a half-hearted attempt to tidy his kitchen a little.

“Éric, I need you to go and collect all the eggs, as many as you can find,” Jerome said calmly.

“What, now?” Éric asked.

“Yes, now, as many as you can. Look in all the usual places and any others you can think of. I need as many as possible.”

“But it’s pouring with rain. The light is not good. Can’t I do it tomorrow?”

“No, I need them now,” Jerome said clearly.

Éric put on his raincoat with a sigh and closed the door behind him, shrugging his hood up and hunching against the weather. Jerome stood at the window long enough to watch him cross the courtyard in the unusually leaden light, heading for the barn. Then he went to the cellar where he had been storing jars and jars of vegetables and fruit from the garden. He had spent many hours preparing and preserving his home-grown produce, as he did each year. Although he and Éric had eaten quite a bit over the weeks since, there was still a lot down there. Jerome found some wooden boxes in a dark corner and began to pack the preserving jars full of sustenance into the boxes.