Chapter Thirty-three

'Come on, darling, eat up.' Charlotte placed a plate of croissants in front of me then sat down and poured us both a mug of hot chocolate.

  I said nothing but wrapped my hands around the mug and lifted it to my mouth, stopping to blow on it. I still felt shaken. Basil sat on my lap, purring loudly, wondering why I wasn't stroking him. Charlotte buttered a croissant and twisted the top off a jar of apricot jam she had found at the back of cupboard.

  'Eww, what are you doing? Growing the cure for the common cold? You got any more jam?' I shook my head.

  She shrugged. 'Nothing for it then.' She spooned out a thick crust of fluffy, green mould and flicked it into the bin.

  'It's fine underneath. Don't be such a wimp.'

  'She speaks!' smiled Charlotte.

  'Oh, ha ha. Come on, pass me the butter. You have to feed a broken heart don't you? Or is it a cold? Or a fever? Oh well, let's just feed all three.'

  We ate in silence, both lost in our own thoughts; I thought about the events of the morning, aware that Charlotte was watching me surreptitiously, quietly concerned for me. Finally, she broke the silence.

  'So what now?'

  'What do you mean, what now?'

  'Well, you can't stay here can you? Not now.'

  'Why not?' I snapped.

  She came round the table and sat down next to me, putting her arm round my shoulder.

  'You gave it your best shot but this isn't living the dream, with your ex-boyfriend and his new wife just down the road. You'll be running into them all the time. Are you strong enough for that? And what happens when the cottage is sold? You need to be back at home where we can all take care of you, not stuck here in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of wine-soaked expats.'

  I got up, picking up Basil and cuddling his soft, warm body to me and went to the window. From there I could look out over my beloved valley, not looking its best it was fair to say, but still beautiful to me. In spite of everything, I couldn't really imagine being anywhere else.

  'Lottie, I know you don't understand but I love this place. I've changed so much since I moved here that I hardly recognise the person I was. I think I'm much more self-reliant, much less consumer-driven. I feel like I've got back in touch with the real me.'

  'Oh stop, you're sounding like one of those dreadful self-help websites.'

  'You can laugh, but honestly, I think I've realised how unimportant most of the crap in my old life was. Who needs hundreds of pairs of shoes and a diet of reality television and talent shows? Here I live in flip-flops in the summer and wellies in the winter and I have time to read now. I've even learnt a new language. Well, more or less. OK, the money is an issue, granted, but I've got my flat on the market. All I need is a buyer.'

  'But your savings have nearly run out and you still don't have a proper job. How will you manage?' said Charlotte. 'I'm sorry but I just don't think you are being realistic.'

  'Look, I have enough wood to get me through the winter so at least I can keep warm. That was at least one good thing Julien d'Aubeville did before he publicly humiliated me.'

  'Yes, shame he couldn't have chopped it up for you.'

  'I guess he thought he'd be around to do it for me. Anyway, he left his axe and if he tries to get it back I'll probably embed it in the back of his skull.'

  'I'd bloody do that anyway if I were you.'

  I turned to look at my friend. 'Come on, let's not argue. You're only here for a few days.'

  I slipped my arm around Charlotte's shoulder, feeling rather less confident about the future than I was letting on to her.

  'Have you ever noticed that woman in the café looks like a tortoise in a wig? What was her name? Buffy? Fluffy?'

  I snorted. 'Muffy. Yeah, she does, doesn't she?' I hugged her. 'Love you, Lottie.'

  'I love you too, but I'm worried about you.' There was a catch in her voice as she said it.

  'You don't have to, really you don't,' I replied. 'I'm fine here. I'm going to sit the winter out then if nothing changes I promise you, I'll think about coming back. OK?'

  'OK. Scout's honour?'

  'Scouts? I never even made the Brownies,' I said, 'but yes, Scout's honour.' Charlotte didn't notice that I had my fingers crossed behind my back.

  Two days later, we were standing in the queue for check-in at the airport laughing at an older English couple, all beige slacks and half-moon glasses, who were complaining loudly about the unfairness of the queuing system. They had joined a queue only to have their check-in agent disappear for a coffee break minutes before the desk was due to open.

  'So how's this going to work then?' the woman demanded loudly to the one remaining check-in agent.

  'I'll take one person from each queue,' she replied calmly.

  'But that's not fair. We were here long before some of the people in the other queue and they'll check in before us.'

  I rolled my eyes at Charlotte. 'Now do you see why I want to stay here?' I whispered. 'For heaven's sake, you're all getting the same flight. It's not going to leave anyone behind.'

  A bit later, having checked Charlotte in, we sat in the waiting area flicking through the latest copy of Hello! which Charlotte had found in the airport shop. She had spotted Tracey on the cover and we were reading through the interview and looking at the photos of her in her new Malibu home.

  'It looks amazing!' I sighed, admiring the opulent décor and the infinity pool surrounded by palm trees.

  'Oh look,' Charlotte squealed, 'she mentions you. Well I suppose it's you.'

  'Where?' I said, grabbing the magazine from her.

  'Here, look. "Interviewer – You famously appeared in the tabloids fighting with another British woman outside your home in France. What was the real story behind that?" That's you isn't it?' 'Sadly, it is. What did she say?'

  Charlotte read aloud. '"It was just a misunderstanding. We went on to become good friends. Interviewer – Are you still in contact with her? Tracey Tarrant – Sadly no." Sadly no, eh? You should get in touch with her.'

  'Oh, I don't know,' I replied, 'she's moved on now. I doubt she'll ever even come back to France.'

  'Well I think you should.' She paused to listen to an announcement. 'Oh, that's me. I've got to go.'

  We stood up and flung our arms around each other, hugging each other tight.

  'I'll miss you, Lottie,' I whispered into her ear.

  'Me too. Take care, you.' Charlotte's eyes glistened with tears.

  'Oh don't or you'll set me off. Go on, you don't want to miss your plane.'

  I stood watching her go, waving until she disappeared from view, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. I was sad that she was going, not sad that she was going back to the life I had left behind. Despite all that had happened with Julien, I was still right where I wanted to be. I turned to leave but then stopped and thought for a moment.

  'Nothing lost,' I told myself, then got out my phone and composed a text to Tracey.

'Hey Trace, remember me? Just reading about you in Hello! So glad it's all worked out for you. Would love to hear from you. X'

As I walked back to the car, my phone binged to tell me that I had a text. I grabbed it from my pocket, surprised that Tracey had got back to me so quickly, especially with the time difference, but it was from Charlotte.

'Guess what? Ground staff held the bolshie woman and husband back at the gate saying there was a problem with their passports then didn't let them on till last. There is a God! Xxx'