Flick sighed, remembering how her parents had welcomed him into their family with open arms. “I’m sorry, Mum.”
“What for?” Brenda asked. “None of it was your fault. Anyway, I thought we weren’t going to talk about him? I thought we had a pact.”
Flick reflected on the agreement they’d made at the start of their journey. “We do.”
“Well then.” Brenda raised her cup. “More coffee?” she said, letting Flick know that was the end of the subject.
Flick nodded. Besides, it wasn’t as if going on about Matthew changed anything.
Following her mother back into the kitchen, she leant against the worktop watching her pour them another drink. “Thanks for doing all this.”
Brenda dismissed the appreciation with a wave of one hand, as she passed her daughter a refill with the other, but Flick wanted her to know just how grateful she felt. “I might not have realised it before but getting away is exactly what I needed.” She considered the misery and heartache she was trying to escape. “In fact, a part of me wishes I didn’t have to go back, that I could stay here forever.”
Brenda closed her eyes for a moment, her relief at hearing this obvious. Opening them again, she smiled as she threw her arms around Flick, giving her an unexpected hug.
“Careful,” Flick said, her coffee almost spilling.
“You don’t know how happy that makes me feel,” Brenda said, regardless. “I mean it might not be the most modern of buildings, but…”
“Yoo-hoo!” a female voice suddenly called out. “Is anyone home?”
5
Surprised by the interruption, Flick let her mother’s words of relief hang in the air as she looked towards the courtyard, wondering who their unexpected visitor could be. She turned to her mum who didn’t seem to have a clue either, both of them placing their cups on the side as the woman in question appeared at the patio doors.
Putting her in her fifties, Flick would’ve thought she’d be more at home in Paris than in the wilds of Brittany. The woman was stunning. Tall and lean, her mid-length dark hair hung loosely around her shoulders and her black skinny jeans, draping, silk Tee and charcoal, lapelled jacket exuded style. As for her boots, Flick couldn’t help but admire both them and the woman. In her view, anything with heels that high were definitely not for walking in, especially when that included negotiating gravel.
Having not even brushed her hair yet, Flick looked down at her own attire. Thanks to her dressing gown and slippers, she felt positively dowdy in comparison and she could tell from her mother’s sudden awkwardness that she felt the same. Not that the woman seemed to notice any of this. Rather, as she confidently let herself in, she enthusiastically threw herself into France’sfaire la biseand feeling the woman’s face brush against Flick’s own, the woman was clearly an expert cheek kisser.
“I come bearing gifts,” she said.
Flick cautiously accepted the paper bag being handed to her and despite still wondering about the woman’s identity, she couldn’t resist peeking inside. “Thank you,” she said, looking down at the most buttery and sweetest smelling of croissants. She returned her attention back to the newcomer. “That’s very kind, but…”
The woman put a hand up to silence her. “Now I know what you’re thinking. That it’s very remiss of me to turn up unannounced like this. But as soon as I heard you’dfinallyarrived, I simply couldn’t wait, I had to come and say hello. Now, how are you settling in?”
“Okay,” said Brenda, hastily stepping forward. “We’re settling in fine.”
Flick wondered if it was her imagination, especially when her mother usually relished the opportunity to meet new people. But on this occasion, she appeared nervous, tense even. In fact, watching her mum position herself, it was as if she was steering the woman back towards the door.
“And is there anything you need? Anything I can do?”
“No, I think we’ve got everything covered,” Brenda said, once again subliminally guiding their guest towards the exit.
As far as Flick was concerned, however, a woman as glamorous as this had to be the chateau owner, who had, at last, come to introduce herself, and considering their dismal facilities, Flick wasn’t about to let her just disappear. Unlike her mum, she could think of a couple of things they needed. Like a heating system that worked, for one. Deciding to start simple, she thought she’d begin with their lack of bedding. “Actually, we’re a b–”
“Absolutely fine,” Brenda jumped in, before Flick could get her words out. “Aren’t we, Felicity?”
Felicity?Flick stared at her mother, really wondering what had gotten into her. She hadn’t called her that in years, and even then, only when Flick was in trouble.
“Because if there is, you only need ask.”
Again, Flick went to bring up the bedding, but again her mother got in there first.
“Honestly,” she said, this time remembering to smile. “We’re all good.”
Training her eyes on her daughter, Flick immediately recognised Brenda’s determined glare. It was one of those looks that willed her to play along at all cost and, despite failing to understand her mum’s reasoning, she knew better than to challenge it.
“As long as you’re sure?” the woman replied. “Now before I forget, let me give you this.” She rummaged in what was obviously a designer handbag and pulled out an envelope. “Your invite.”
