AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Of course. You must know Russian oligarchs have been buying up property in London. Chelsea is full of them, driving up the prices.”
My eyes meet Elodie’s across the table and her lips twitch as she struggles to keep a straight face.
“Well, Mrs Xavier,” George answers with no trace of mockery. “Since our By-laws make it impossible for anyone to buy property unless they were born here or have been resident for three years, we don’t have to worry about Russian or any other investors driving up the prices.”
“Putin is dangerous. We should all be worried.” Mrs Xavier is unconvinced
This time I have to avoid looking at Elodie. A little later, when the discussion has moved on, I catch her eyes again and we both share a small smile.
The meeting comes to an end, and we are encouraged to mingle. Du Montfort and his assistants walk around, greeting everyone informally.
The two property developers avoid him but make a beeline for Mrs Xavier. Clearly, they are very interested in this stretch of four farmhouses on Catcher Lane, and who can blame them? Joined together, the four houses and land would make a sizable holiday resort.
I make a mental note to find out how much they intend to offer the others.
“Hal, isn’t it?” George Du Montfort has come over to me.
“Yes.” I keep my answer short.
He offers me his hand to shake. “Welcome back, it’s good to see you.”
He is friendly and charming.
“I’m not really back. I just came in answer to the letter you sent my mother. As you must know my father passed away two years ago.”
“Of course, I’m sorry.”
“How are your parents?” I ask.
Something flickers in his eyes and quickly disappears. “As you may know, my mother passed away.”
What? No, of course I hadn't known. “I’m so sorry, when?”
“Twenty years ago,” he says
So, just after we left. The two tragedies, his and mine, come with so much more baggage than simple death. His mother had been the prettiest girl in the village, then she married Richard Du Montfort who cheated on her with so many women it became a joke. Even as a twelve-year-old schoolboy I hadn’t missed the rumours.
“I didn’t know. We must have left by then.” I don’t have to remind him of why we left.
He surprises me by coming to the point. “Look, I am aware of how things were for your family, and I want to assure you, the past is very much in the past. I will make sure there is none of that unpleasantness. La Canette is your home, and you are very welcome back. If there is anything I can do to help smooth your return, please let me know.”
I shake my head. “My life, and my family, are in England now. I’m just here to sell up.”
Immediately I can tell something is wrong. George seems to consider something for a moment. “We will talk about this later.”
Before he can say more, Elodie comes over, her notepad and pen in hand.
He greets her then introduces us. “Elodie, this is Hal Hemingway, your next-door neighbour.”
Next door? Labri Catch House?
He turns to me. “This is Elodie LeFevre.”
No need to tell me the name, if she’s from Labri Catch, then she’s a LeFevre. I quash down the dismay and do my best to nod politely. Her eyes search my face, and the quick smile becomes uncertain, so perhaps she feels the same.
“We’re actually related, the three of us.” George looks from me to Elodie.
“We are?” She lifts her eyebrows.
