Chapter Thirty

'Still!' I moaned, crossly. For the fourth day running I had woken up to no power, which meant no hot shower, no recharging my mobile, no laptop, no phone and more worryingly, no sign of Julien. I got out of bed and caught sight of myself in the mirror. It was probably not such a bad thing that he hadn't seen me looking like this. My hair, unwashed now for four days, hung down in dank, greasy rats' tails and although I was washing in water I had boiled on the gas cooker, I had a sneaking suspicion that I smelled none too fresh either.

On the plus side though, I now had a long list of things I could do with a torch held under my chin; washing up, cooking pasta, feeding the kitten, making a nice frothy latte, at least until the batteries in my milk frother ran out; but on the downside, I had discovered that playing Monopoly with myself was no fun at all. I had found an old set in the bottom of a cupboard but by this stage, I had re-named it Monotony.

In the kitchen, I turned on the tap to fill a saucepan and make some coffee but it just gurgled and spat, spraying me with unpleasant-looking brown liquid.

'Merde! What next? No electricity and now no water.'

I was surprised by a loud knock on the door. For the past few days, everyone in the hamlet had stayed indoors, no doubt not wanting to be seen in their present unwashed state. On the doorstep, I found two men from the water company with packs of bottled water.

'The batteries on the pump from the reservoir have run out,' one explained, 'so we are delivering bottled water to everyone until the power is back on.'

'Oh, right, well… thanks. Any sign of it coming back on? It's been days now.'

The man apologised for the inconvenience. Apparently there were over a million people without power, and the French power company was drafting in engineers from Germany and the UK to help with the repair work. I asked if he thought the engineers would be starting work today.

'Well no, mademoiselle. Today is Sunday.'

Oh, of course, silly me. As if they would let a major incident like this interfere with their thirty-five hour week, I thought, irritated. Damned French employment law. You'd think a national emergency would be a bit more important. I thanked them for the water and shut the door a bit harder than was necessary.

As I watched them drive away, it suddenly occurred to me that if they had managed to get into the hamlet then the road must be passable. Julien would surely be around soon. I ran my hands through my greasy hair and sighed, wondering how I could manage to wash it. Quickly throwing on some clothes, I jumped into my car to drive down and check out the situation. Sure enough, the floodwaters had gone down dramatically. The valley was still flooded but it looked as if the road might be passable in the right vehicle, which wasn't, sadly, my aged bagnole. I turned round, feeling even more despondent, and headed back up to Les Tuileries.

As I turned into the drive, I saw Martine standing on my doorstep. I parked the car and got out, calling 'bonjour' to my neighbour. As soon as Martine turned round, the look on her face told me that something was wrong. Very wrong.

I stopped mid-stride. 'What it is Martine? Is it Laure? Is everything OK?'

'Could we go inside? Please?'

'Well yes, of course. I'm sorry I look such a sight but four days without washing my hair…' I led Martine into the lounge.

She took my hand and led me to the sofa. Basil jumped up onto my lap and started kneading me with his little paws. My hand slipped down to stroke him.

'Please, Martine, what is it? You're making me nervous.'

'There's been an accident.'

I felt my blood run cold. 'What accident? Who? Not Julien?' I shook my head as if to rid myself of such a ridiculous idea. Martine watched me with tired, sad eyes.

'A fire. A barn was struck by lightning during the storm. He went to help…'

'No, stop. Don't say anything more. Please, not Julien. I couldn't stand it.' Huge tears spilled over and ran down my cheeks. I felt sick. 'Is he…?'

'No, he's not dead but he has been badly hurt. I'm so sorry.'

'No, it's not Julien. It can't be. How could you know anyway? The phone lines are down and there's no mobile signal. How could you possibly know? Anyway, it might be Louis, I mean, they are so difficult to tell apart.'

My voice was desperate as I twisted the sleeves of my jumper into tight knots. Even the kitten had fallen silent, sensing something wrong.

Martine pulled me towards her, wrapping her arms around me.

'I'm so sorry but it is Julien. Louis came over earlier to tell me. He couldn't face telling you himself.'

'I have to go to him, Martine. Where is he?'

'He's in the clinic in Villeneuve but I don't think you should go, not today at least.'

'I have to, Martine. I have to.' I could feel panic rising like a tsunami in the pit of my stomach. 'Please, Martine, will you take me?'

'Yes please,' I whispered, my voice barely audible.

'OK, but you can't go looking like that. I have a generator arriving shortly. Come up to my house in half an hour and you can have a shower and clean yourself up. Will you be OK?'

I nodded numbly. Martine hugged me, then took my shoulders and looked hard at me. 'You must be brave, ma biche.'

I nodded again, unable to speak. 'I'll see you later, yes?'

As the door closed behind me, I slumped down on the sofa. My mind raced. Was he in pain? Was he conscious? I imagined the worst possible scenarios. Life without Julien. How could I survive? I had not realised until that moment how completely and totally I had fallen in love with him. Hot tears ran down my face relentlessly but I didn't even have the will to wipe them away. They dropped in my lap, wetting my clothes. Basil climbed back onto my lap, mewling to me but I couldn't even lift a hand to stroke him. My heartache was a physical pain but with it came a numbness that made even the slightest thing a titanic effort.

I had no idea how long I had been sitting there but suddenly the need to see Julien became so acute that it was all I could do to stop myself running up the road to Martine's. I went into the bedroom and grabbed some clean clothes and then ran as fast as I could all the way to Martine's.

Laure opened the door and stood back to let me in, her own eyes red-rimmed from crying. She touched my face gently. 'He will be fine. I know it. He is strong and he has much to live for.'

I tried to smile at her but my strength failed me. Martine came and took my arm, leading me to the bathroom and handed me a pile of towels that had been warming on the kitchen range.

'Take these. There is shampoo in the bathroom.'

I nodded and took them.

As the scalding water pounded my body, I washed my hair and scrubbed my body, removing the dirt of the past few days. I wanted to look perfect for Julien when I got to the hospital.

After the shower, I sat in front of the dressing table mirror in Martine's bedroom, as she gently combed out my hair then dried it while I sat there staring blindly ahead of me, crying silently.

Laure came in and started to speak but Martine shook her head and spoke to her softly in French. She turned and quietly left the room.

Finally dressed, Martine led me out to the car, opening the door and guiding me in. I had barely uttered a word since my arrival. She reached across and took my hand and I squeezed it, grateful for the human contact and only letting go when Martine had to change gear.

'I, I don't know how bad…' she stopped mid-sentence. After a few moments she spoke again.

'You must be brave. Whatever you have to face, you can get through it. You are a strong woman. You gave up your comfortable life to come and live in a country you barely knew. You left behind your friends and your family. You are resourceful. You can overcome this.'

I looked at her and smiled. 'Thank you, Martine. Thank you for being here.'

I looked ahead and the dark clouds of despair that had engulfed me earlier descended once again.

At the hospital Martine took charge, finding out where Julien was and leading me down the maze of corridors until we found him. Louis was standing in the waiting room, leaning against the wall, his head hanging. He looked up as we arrived. 'How is he, Louis?' I asked, my voice breaking. 'What happened?'

Louis looked exhausted. He ran his hands through his hair as tears welled up in his eyes. 'There was a fire in a barn on the farm next to us. We were trying to put it out but the roof collapsed. Julien was hit by a beam. He has some burns to his back, they are not serious, but he also has a head injury. He will live but…'

'He's in the room at the end,' he told me, pointing down the corridor.

'Thank God,' I said. It felt as if a curtain of despondency was being pulled aside to let some hope in. I went to pass Louis but he grabbed my arm.

'There's something I need to say…'

'Let me pass, Louis,' I said, twisting out of his grip.

'Please, wait a moment,' something in his voice made me stop, 'this is not the right time.'

'I have to see him, Louis, please don't try to stop me.' I walked towards the door of Julien's room, stopping to look through the window to prepare myself for what lay ahead. It was an image I would never forget. Jo, the girl I had met at line dancing, the one who had told me all about her fiancé, sat at Julien's bedside, holding his hand to her cheek. A sudden stillness descended on me. I paused for a moment then turned back, pushing past Louis and Martine who were blocking my way.

Martine raced after me. She caught up with me by the car.

'It all makes sense now,' I cried bitterly. Everything was falling into place. The way Louis treated me; the hostility of Julien's friends; his absences which he had told me were because of the harvest but which just so happened to coincide with Jo's visit. Maybe even Tracey's strange behaviour.

'So, his childhood sweetheart?'

'Don't what exactly, Martine? Don't worry, there's plenty more fish in the sea? Don't torture yourself with the fact that the man you love is actually engaged to someone else and nobody told you?' An irrational anger was starting to replace the shock I had been feeling.

'Why didn't you tell me? I feel so stupid.'

Eventually she sighed, 'I tried to, many times, but you were not ready to listen. Anyway, Jo had been away for nearly three years. I didn't know how strong their relationship was. For all I knew, he planned to leave her and be with you. It was not my place to say. It was Julien's to be honest with you.'

'Ha! What would he know about honesty? I hope… I hope…'

'No you don't,' Martine put my hand on my arm. 'Come on. Let's go home.'

We travelled home in silence, Martine occasionally glancing anxiously at me. I stared straight ahead, eyes fixed on the road.

We turned into Les Tuileries and she stopped in front of the cottage. I got out of the car and, without a backward glance, ran to the front door, slamming it behind me. Inside, the tears that I had tried to keep at bay on the way home from the hospital started to fall. I leaned against the door, then slid down to sit on the floor, sobbing as if my heart would break. It was broken. I was sure of it.