When we arrive, out of breath and hot, Fabien is already there. The suitcases have been abandoned by the front door and Ralph has followed, running close behind us down the river path to the clearing.
‘JB came for me,’ he says, nodding to JB with Tomas in his arms. ‘The ambulance is on its way.’
I look at Henri lying on the ground, like a giant oak tree having been felled. His face is ashen. The man I’ve seen at the clearing, with the long beard and hair, and very kind eyes, is kneeling beside him.
‘Alain has given him the kiss of life,’ says Fabien. ‘Henri is very lucky he was here.’
I wonder what Henri was doing in the clearing.
Stephanie is beside me, tears running down her cheeks, her face racked with worry. Even Ralph seems to sense the seriousness of the situation and lies down beside Henri, as if to keep him warm.
I crouch and take his hand. ‘Stay with us, Henri. Just hang on in there.’ I’m willing him to hang on until the ambulance arrives. This man has been a lifeline to me since I moved here. And I’m not the only one, by the look on Stephanie’s face.
When the ambulance arrives Fabien explains who Henri is.
‘Do you want to go in the ambulance with him?’ a kind paramedic asks me in French, as I scramble to my feet. He and his colleague move Henri on to the stretcher and into the ambulance.
‘Um, well …’ I look at Fabien and then Alain, who has retreated back into the shadows of the big pine tree and the sofa.
‘You go,’ says Fabien.
‘We can look after things here, take Ralph back,’ says Rhi.
‘We’ll cancel the taxi, change our flights. Just until things are sorted,’ says Lou, with what seems almost like relief. But I feel so lucky to have my friends still here, like they belong in this community too.
I nod to the paramedic and step towards the ambulance.
‘No!’ Stephanie says, grabbing my arm. ‘You cannot go!’
‘Why not?’ I ask. ‘Someone should be with him.’
‘No! You need to cook!’
‘Cook?’ I’m puzzled. This isn’t a time for thinking about our evening meal.
‘Not for us, for these people.’ She holds out a hand and two more people, in dark clothing with unkempt hair, join Alain by the sofa and he explains what’s happened.
‘What do you mean, I need to cook for these people?’ I’m still no wiser.
‘Henri!’ she says urgently. ‘He has many people relying on him. He cooks for the bistro, and then everything that is left when he closes he brings here, every evening, and serves it to the people who need it.’ She points to the little hut with the closed hatch. ‘He was here checking for any empty bowls that got left behind after he cleared away last night, like he does every morning. He checks no mess was left behind. You have to help. Without Henri, there is many a time I would have gone without food. Same for many of these people. They are relying on him.’
I look around the clearing. ‘I can’t cook – at least, not for so many people!’ I may have enjoyed cooking for all of us at the house, but there’s no way I could cook restaurant standard food in the bistro and for the numbers Henri must feed every day. ‘I’m just a home cook!’
I look at the ambulance and they’re shutting one door, waiting to shut the other. The lights are flashing.
‘I thought I heard sirens.’ Cora appears from the other side of the ambulance. ‘I heard it from the garden. I’m having some new tiles laid,’ she says. ‘Anything I can do to help?’
This is becoming a spectator sport, I think. My hackles start to rise. Henri is a good, kind man who is in real need.
‘Who is it? One of the hoboes?’ She looks at Alain, who has possibly saved Henri’s life with his quick thinking and actions.
We look at her in horror, hardly able to believe what we’re hearing.
‘No, actually, it’s Henri, from the bistro,’ I say, pulling myself up tall.
‘Ah, the man who feeds them all. Well,’ she says, ‘maybe if they’re no longer getting fed here, they’ll move on somewhere else and leave our town alone,’ she says, with a tight smile. ‘This area could certainly do with redeveloping. Something for the townspeople. I’ll speak to the mayor. And chase up that CCTV he’s been promising us. These people aren’t from around here. They don’t belong here. We need to look out for each other.’
My cheeks are flaming as I watch Cora turn and totter away on her kitten heels over the riverside path. I try to find the words to call after her, but am totally tongue-tied. We’re the ones who don’t belong, who moved in, I think furiously.
I look at Stephanie, whose lips are tight, and see the fury in her eyes.
‘Show me to the kitchen!’ I say, determination rising inside me and a voice to match coming out of my mouth that I’ve never heard before.
‘I’ll go with Henri,’ says Rhi. ‘Fabien, you can come with me, can’t you?’ she says, and he nods. We just need to get Henri off. At that, Fabien looks at me as if to check I’m okay with it – but okay with what? Not going to the hospital with Henri, going instead to the restaurant to cook, or him going with Rhi in the ambulance? But the sirens are starting to wail. Rhi steps in, followed by Fabien who gives me one final look, as if he’s about to say something, but the paramedic is ready to shut the other door, and I watch as Fabien dips his dark curly head and steps in. The doors are shut. And we all stand, including Alain and the group around him, and watch as the ambulance pulls away, sirens blaring, lights flashing, all of us praying that Henri will live.
‘Come on, Stephanie,’ I say, the steel still in my voice. ‘We have people to feed. Grab the recipe book from Le Petit Mas and meet me at the bistro. You too,’ I say to JB and to Lou, who is busy cancelling taxis and flights. ‘We have people who need us right now.’