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Polly eyed the eldest child; he was no more than three, she thought, although children’s ages were a mystery to her. One she would soon be solving. Despite many longing glances at a football in the middle of the lawn he was sitting upright on his chair eating daintily. ‘He’s very good,’ she said. Maybe French children did have better manners.
Claire grinned. ‘He’s been bribed. Uncle Gabe will come and play trains with him if he eats all his lunch and behaves. Don’t let him fool you. He’s not usually this angelic.’
‘How do you do it?’ Polly looked from Claire to Natalie, both so laid-back, dressed simply but elegantly, not a hair out of place. ‘Raise them and run this place?’
‘With help!’ Claire said emphatically and Natalie nodded in laughing agreement.
‘I have an au pair, Maman is always on hand and my husband does a great deal.’
Polly smiled automatically but her mind was racing, calculating. She didn’t have a mother or a husband—but she could buy in help. After all, she paid people to clean her house, buy her groceries, mow her lawn. Why not to raise her child?
Polly put the bread she was holding back on her plate untasted. It sounded so cold. She looked over at the small boy trying so hard to be good and wished he were free to run free, to tear into his food with gusto. That her presence didn’t constrain him.
She didn’t want to recreate her childhood, to raise a perfectly behaved child painfully trying to live up to impossibly high expectations. She wanted...she wanted this. Loud, argumentative, affectionate and close. If she was going to have a child then she wanted a real family: wellies and mud and a big golden dog, the whole lot.
Well, maybe not a dog; Mr Simpkins would never cope.
Summoning up her best French, she leant over to the small boy. ‘Bonjour, Jean. I love trains,’ she said. ‘When you’ve finished eating do you think you could show me?’
Jean put his bread down and regarded her with solemn dark eyes. ‘I have cars too,’ he said after a pause. ‘Do you like cars too?’
‘I adore cars,’ Polly told him. ‘Especially old ones.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘YOUR FAMILY ARE LOVELY.’
It seemed odd to be alone with Gabe again after twenty-four hours of almost continuous company. After playing cars with Jean for a surprisingly enjoyable hour she had had a comprehensive tour of the vineyard and B&B accommodation followed by another long, laughter-filled family meal, this one enhanced by Claire and Natalie’s charming husbands.
Visiting a vineyard and refusing to sample any of the products might seem eccentric but nobody had commented. Thank goodness she was past the sickness stage, otherwise she might have disgraced herself as soon as she entered the bottling room and storage cellars with their strong, distinct, alcoholic odour.
Gabe slid her a sidelong look. ‘They like you.’
A glow spread through her at his words. She had been at the vineyard for such a short time, a stranger speaking a different language, but she felt a connection to the Beaufils family. It was nice to know it wasn’t one-sided.
‘Especially Jean,’ he added. ‘I think you’ve ousted me from number one. Luckily for me Mathilde still thinks I’m perfect.’
Polly rolled her eyes. ‘They all seem very blinkered where you’re concerned. Did I see your mother make your smoothie this morning?’
‘She likes to,’ he said with an annoying smirk, every inch the youngest child. ‘I even managed to drag Papa out for a run. Well, more of a jog but it was a start. He eats too much—drinks too much. It’s an occupational hazard.’
‘How does your father feel about Claire and Natalie’s innovations?’ Polly asked. There were no traces of the power struggles she had experienced with her grandfather—but they could be good at putting on a public face. She knew all about that; public solidarity was part of the Rafferty code.
‘He is overjoyed they are still at home, that they love the vineyard as much as he does.’ Gabe pulled an expressive face. ‘If he could keep us all there he would. I know he hopes Celine will come back and take over the wine production.’
‘And you?’
‘There’s no place for me there, not now. My horizons are wider. I return home for holidays, weekends. I don’t have the time to come back often.’
‘I don’t think there’s any lack of ambition at the vineyard.’ Polly had spent the morning with Natalie looking at all the digital innovations the Frenchwoman had introduced. It was impressive, a seamless interface between the physical world and the digital marketplace. ‘Natalie is far ahead of much bigger businesses. There’s an app for everything. And I think Claire plans to make it the premier events and hospitality venue in the country. She’ll do it too, if she has the capital.’
