Chapter Ten

 

THE NERVES SWIRLED around in my stomach as I caught sight of Berne standing on the platform. Although I’d seen her quite a few times since being back in France, my body seemed to hum, heightening in intensity with every glance. I groaned to myself, she was incredible. To call her simply beautiful wouldn’t do her justice. She was one of those women who you could happily sit and stare at all day and still not tire of looking at.

She was forty-one and she had a line in the middle of her forehead. She had a longer face maybe but the years had added to her. I had no idea how to explain it but she looked even better than she had when I’d known her. I guess she was more herself now, more aware of who she was. Not that she’d ever been under-confident in any way but, well, she seemed stronger. I didn’t miss her wince as she shifted between her feet however. So I wasn’t the only one who was aching from digging after all.

As I got off the train, I couldn’t keep the grin from my face as a pocket-sized bundle of French energy hurtled at me and nearly tackled me to the ground.

“Pepe!”

It had been years since I’d been Babs’d, but memory served me well enough to turn my cheek before she planted a smacker on my lips.

“Ça va, a million bisous, I cannot believe you are back here!”

I knew better than to attempt to smooth over my clothes and pretend that I hadn’t suffered a full-frontal assault from the Flying Frenchwoman. No one in the station raised an eyebrow at the public show of affection. Nope, they were quite used to enthusiastic greetings clearly.

“And ah!” Babs pointed to my chest and I half-tensed ready for some smutty comment, only for her to tap my left breast. “This is familiar, non?”

She dragged me by the hand over to Rebecca and Berne. “I know this shirt, do I not?”

Feeling the cringe-worthy realisation of why she was making such a fuss, I glanced down at my French rugby top, or rather it had been Berne’s top once. Hmmm . . . explain that, Saunders. Freudian slip much.

“Alors, how did she get this?”

Berne sighed as though she thought anyone would think she was tired of Babs teasing.

She wasn’t.

They were a duo, they had always been.

I’d loved the fact that Babe, as I’d dubbed them, had been as close as Rebecca and I. It was one of the many things I adored about Berne.

“We should be escorting her to her thinking place, not digging up—”

“There’s another story?” Rebecca’s eyes glinted and my stomach wriggled with the embarrassment. “You have to spill it.”

Babs grinned. “Oh, it will make you see her with new eyes.”

Rebecca leaned in closer. “Please tell me it’s something I can blackmail her with.”

Babs tapped Rebecca on the nose with her nail. “Without one doubt.”

I turned from the ping-pong conversation and glanced at Berne, who shrugged, seeming to read my thoughts. “You’ve been outnumbered for a good while, huh?”

“Oui, my mother combined with these two was . . . interesting.”

I loved the way she talked. I turned to walk towards the steps and nudged her shoulder. “Do you have scars?”

Her gentle chuckle made the hairs on my arms ripple. It was a laugh that put visions in my head. Visions of long, hot summer days on a secluded stretch of sand with—

“Now, what do you whisper?” Babs yanked me by the hand and led me towards a very familiar red Clio.

“You still have her!” I ran over to the beaten up old beauty. “I have great memories of squeezing into the back of this baby.”

“Did you seriously just call a car baby?” Rebecca raised her eyebrows. “Who are you and where is Pippa Saunders?”

“This is Pepe,” Babs said. “She is the mischievous twin, non?”

I ignored the teasing and patted Clio on the bonnet. She seemed as well-loved as I’d remembered. How I’d missed this place. Every single part of it. Winston and Clio would be soul mates, this I was sure of.

“Where would you like to go?” Berne’s voice held an edge of an untold question. I was confusing her. I was confusing myself. What right did I have to come crashing into her life after all these years and cause her chaos?

I swallowed back the ache that she probably wished she could be with Vivienne right now. Palpitations stuttered through my heart. Why wasn’t she in Marseille or was Vivienne here? “I won’t keep you. I just need to get to where we’re staying so I can pack a few things.”

“You leave?” Babs sounded irritated by my answer, she didn’t look much happier either.

Wonderful, Saunders. Where were my manners?

“Well, not without catching up and letting you tease me mercilessly.”

A smile burst onto her face and she bellowed her laugh out as she opened her door.

Rebecca started at the booming chuckle and blew out a long breath. “You know she’s a lunatic on the road, right?”

“That’s why I’ll do the driving.” I held my hand out and Babs happily threw me the keys.

“Hey, I didn’t know that was an option.” Rebecca looked more relieved than annoyed.

“You did not ask, my little English banana.”

Her accent wrapping around banana gave it a joyful tone that made Rebecca’s cheeks colour but only enough that I could see.

Rebecca waggled her eyebrows. “Well, my little French peanut, next time I most certainly will.”

I looked at Berne and she wiggled her eyebrows in silent agreement. “I think they need to avoid beaches for a while . . .”

 

WE ARRIVED BACK at Ajoux-Sur-Rhône and Rebecca and Berne concocted a wonderful feast together as Babs cut some kind of business deal on her phone.

The woman was one of the most high-powered business women in the country. Her fortune made Doug’s look small but she still lived in her tiny apartment and drove Clio. I loved her for that very, very much.

In fact I absolutely adored the three women with me in the little holiday cottage. Berne and Rebecca busy at work in a small, but functional bland kitchen. The brown tiles on the floor had been recovered from the eighties and the cupboards looked like something from the fifties.

The cooker and microwave looked modern enough though. Okay, cheap brands that meant they had to be newish. Nothing with those names on it lasted very long. Especially if there were oafs like me using them. Berne and Rebecca working together made it look more professional.

Berne always cooked with an apron around her waist. Why, I didn’t know because she was always neat and tidy. Rebecca had her own habits, sleeves rolled up, jewellery off, and a baseball cap on backwards. I never understood why, because her hair was shorter than Doug’s but yet she always did it. If she bore a faded green baseball cap, food was forthcoming.

I sat on the sofa because it was safer for all concerned if I stayed away from hot surfaces. Instead I curled up in the corner, tucked my feet underneath me, and enjoyed being in their presence. It felt good to be with them. I felt happier here. 

Berne caught me looking and strolled over to sit beside me. “Where did you plan to go?”

Something I’d run over and over on the train. “Here’s the thing . . .” I turned to look at her, hoping that if I looked, I’d not falter and end up causing chaos. Besides, with this angle, I could feel Rebecca buzzing about the kitchen and it would help me behave. “You know that I love you, right?”

Berne smiled in response and her eyes twinkled. I gripped the chair to stop from moving.

“Thing is . . . I need to know myself . . . I need to figure out who I am now.” I wrapped my arms across my chest, it was better than launching myself into her arms. “I promised to marry Doug. When . . . if . . . I do, I want it to be truly me . . . to be right.”

There was more. Much more I needed to explain but it was stuck and wouldn’t budge. She needed to understand.

“That makes sense.” Berne’s dulled tones made my stomach ache.

“I love you though,” I said, confusing her as much as myself, no doubt. “I mean . . . I need to know if . . . why . . . I need to understand if that’s because we were young or if . . . well . . .”

Why wouldn’t the truth come out? Why couldn’t I explain to her why I’d left?

“How do you wish to do this?” Berne asked, her apron as spotless as when she put it on.

Wishing wasn’t a wise subject with my heart in overload. No, better for the well-mannered approach. “Doug will be worried if I just head off into the country. He’ll have the cavalry out before I can blink. I owe him an explanation for leaving.”

“Then tell him that you want time to think.” I didn’t miss Berne averting her eyes. I owed her an explanation too.

I wanted to reach across and cuddle her, instead I hugged myself tighter. “It won’t work. He won’t listen. Besides, he thinks I’m pregnant for some absurd reason.”

Berne frowned and I couldn’t resist a quick squeeze of her hand.

“I’m not by the way. I need you, Babs, and Rebecca to cover me.”

“Got your six, Saunders,” Rebecca chimed from the kitchen.

“Oui,” Babs added, poking her head in from the porch.

“You aren’t meant to be listening.”

Both of them shrugged and went back to their tasks.

“Can you take a few days, I . . . well . . . can you?”

“Of course, my father will happily call in someone to finish the foundations.” Berne smiled. “You wish to do the Ardèche once more?”

How did she know me that well? Why was she making this so easy for me? If I was her, I would have . . . well . . . no, I’d have done exactly the same. I would have done what she needed and pined away inside. I would be wearing that look she was now.

“Would that be okay?” I closed my eyes, hoping that she wouldn’t tell me she needed to be with Vivienne.

“I will happily be your guide.”

“Why are you so patient with me?” My mother’s words about being less pedigree than her other offspring rubbed at my already raw senses. Especially my sister. She was so perfect.

“The same reason you suffer my presence,” Berne said. “We fit well together.”

I linked my fingers with hers. My breath quickened as she smiled. I needed to do something or I’d end up leaning forward, planting my lips to hers, sweet, slow—

“Food, ladies!” Rebecca threw the tea towel at my face. “You can dish out.” She rapped my knuckles with a spoon as I reached for a taste. “And then you can tell me why Babs was so excited about your shirt.”

“She’s patriotic?”

Rebecca poked me in the ribs. “You owe me the truth, Saunders.”

I owed a lot of people the truth. Take a ticket and wait for your number to be called. I sighed. It was the least I could do. It must have hurt to learn how different I’d been here in France. It must have been hard for her to realise how much had been buried.

There was much I needed to explain to everyone concerned but most of all, I needed to understand what I wanted to say. I needed to understand what I felt and what it meant.

However I found the answers inside me, I would still be hurting someone and perhaps, after my actions in recent weeks, I could end up alone.

I owed it to everyone, and I owed it to myself, to find out exactly where my heart lay even if that meant uncovering parts that I’d happily forgotten. There was a lot of pain I needed to face before I could get there. What hurt would I reawaken within my thudding heart?

 

DOUG WAS NOT in the best of moods when I called him later that evening. If he could have seen that I was lounging out on the sofa with my head on Rebecca’s lap, he may have been even grumpier. It was the very reason I neglected to video-call him.

“Sweetheart, I know that you have some problems at the moment,” he began with the tone that adults used with toddlers. “But running off like that makes everyone unhappy.”

Everyone but me. I was perfectly happy. I had three people with me who made me feel like me.

“Doug, I need time to process everything.” How could I say this without bottling out? “I need time to come to terms with how I feel.”

“Your mother said you would be unreasonable at this time.” His voice sounded more like my father’s than a future spouse. “I suppose we will have to expect these little blips, won’t we?”

The fact that Doug thought I was pregnant didn’t take away from his patronising. Okay, so I’d been a bit crazy but crazy did not mean stupid.

“I suppose you will,” I snapped. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk.”

“Now, sweetheart. Why don’t you let my guy come and pick you up? You don’t need to be working now.”

I looked down at the phone. I hadn’t told him where I was. I looked up at Rebecca who shook her head. “How do you know where I am?”

“You told me.”

He was lying.

“I did not. How do you know?”

While he tried to tell me that I had revealed my location, I got up and walked over to the window. Just as I’d thought. One of his drivers leaned against his bonnet, dosing in the sunshine. “I can see James.”

“Oh, he is there to help you.” Doug sounded distracted and distant. “Don’t worry about him.”

“That’s creepy, Doug.” I moved away from the window. “Don’t turn into that weird guy.”

“I won’t . . . Look, I have to go . . . I’ll talk to you later.”

He hung up.

I stared down at the phone, frowning. He’d cut me off. Was he mad?

“That is pretty creepy,” Rebecca said, peeking out the window. “He got some kind of mob ties or something?”

Even the thought made me giggle.

“Doug?” I raised my eyebrows until Rebecca laughed at her own dumb thought. He was about as mysterious as Clingfilm. Doug was what it said on the label.

“You wish to lose the tail?” Babs said with a grin. “I can arrange something to curtail your shadow, oui?”

“Is she in the mob?” Rebecca asked, thumbing in Babs’s direction.

“Er, no . . . unless you count designer bathroom suites as illegal merchandise.”

Rebecca looked thoughtful as she studied Babs. At five-foot-four, Babs was three inches or so shorter than Rebecca. Her hair was raven black with a white streak on the left temple. Like Berne, she exuded a sensuality that enraptured most who looked at her. Babs was fiery, furious, passionate, and absolutely gorgeous. Her intense brown eyes, her Romanesque nose, her wide-lipped smile, and curvaceous contours made her catch most people’s attention.

Rebecca, I could tell, was drawn like a moth to the flashlight. What I wasn’t expecting was for Babs to be as drawn to her.

She was hiding it well enough but I knew better. I knew the flick of the eyes over Rebecca’s . . . well . . . behind, when she turned away.

“You don’t think Babs looks like a designer?” I asked, prodding the gawping Rebecca.

It was nice to get my own back. French women were enchanting. It was good to know I wasn’t the only helpless admirer.

“What?” Rebecca smiled in a daze. “No . . .” She shook her head. “I mean yes . . . I mean, I was wondering why we hadn’t dragged her into the design process.”

“Trust me,” I said. “Where Berne works, Babs will be . . . I think.”

Babs nodded, eavesdropping again. “Always. It will be fun, non?” she shot at us before going back to her animated phone conversation.

I looked around for Berne. Where was she?

“Viper,” Babs muttered. “Bebe was going to have to explain why she’d ditched her to play hero eventually.”

“Viper?” I asked.

“Vivienne.” Babs disconnected and nodded with complete seriousness. It made me feel a sense of pride that Babs disliked the woman.

“She’s really as bad as that?”

“Oui, oui. She may think she is some gift to the women mais, she is nothing but a . . .” Babs “mmm’d” as she tried to think of the word in English.

“Bad influence?” I asked.

Babs shook her head.

“A drunk?”

Tutting, Babs shook her head again.

“A superficial twig?” Rebecca seemed to feel the need to join in and help too.

Babs roared with laughter then shook her head. “Non.”

“A bitch?” Both of them turned to look at me and I shrugged. “What?”

“Who is a bitch?” Berne’s voice behind me made me tense.

“Me,” I said, plastering what I hoped looked like a confident smile on my face. “For . . . um—”

“Ditching your fiancé?” Rebecca said.

“Abandoning Berne?” Babs said.

“Not telling him you weren’t pregnant?” Rebecca added.

“Hey!” I folded my arms and the two of them looked at each other. “Enough with the judgement. I suck, we know that I suck. This is confirmed, I heartily suck big time.”

Both nodded and I turned to look at Berne.

She looked stressed, her eyes puffy.

“Did she upset you?” My anger shot through my veins with such force that I clenched my fists into balls. “How dare she yell at you.”

All three looked at me with raised eyebrows.

“What?” I put my hands on my hips. “What?”

“Steady on, Pip.” Rebecca’s smug grin made me frown even deeper and my forehead ache.

“I will not take it easy.” I looked at Berne. How did I explain that it drove me nuts to think of her going anywhere near some sultry, superficial twig, who was a drunken bad influence and a bitch? “I don’t like her.”

My words brought a smile to her lips and the light seemed to flow back into her. “I am very happy that you do not.”

“Will you still be able to come with me? I don’t want to cause trouble—” I held my hand up. “Actually, I do want to cause trouble but she is your priority.”

Ouch, ouch, ouch that stung.

“Oui.” Berne blinked a few times. “I will guide you as promised.”

Was the “oui”about coming with me or Vivienne being priority?

“Are you sure?” I tried to search Berne’s eyes but she looked lost in her thoughts. “Berne, I have no right to ask you to do anything.”

With a sigh, she wandered into the kitchen. The three of us watched as she snapped open a can of pop and wandered out onto the balcony. I looked at Babs, hating that I couldn’t help to ease her mind in this situation. I was part of whatever problem she had, that much I knew.

“I will go. Perhaps you tell my delightful lemon slice about the rules of our favourite game, non?” Babs smiled. “She could do with some relaxation.”

Helpless to do anything but nod, I watched Babs wander out after Berne and shut the door.

“This was why I didn’t want to come back here.” Running my hand through my hair, I strode to the table and pulled out a pack of cards. “This is my fault.”

“Pip, why did you leave her?” Rebecca’s voice held an edge of caution as though she expected me to explode like a firework.

I slumped down onto the sofa and pulled the cards from the pack. I hated feeling so unhinged and I hated making even the people closest to me tread on eggshells.

“It’s a long story.”

I felt her sit down beside me. “Pip, you told me that she was in the past but it’s clear she’s very present.”

“Yes.” I shuffled the cards, unable to meet Rebecca’s eyes.

“Pip, you wear her ring all the time.” Rebecca pulled me around to look at her. “You wear her ring not his. You still have a rugby shirt that we both know is hers too.”

“Yes.”

“When you’re around her, you set off all kinds of vibes. I mean, where has this side been?” She laughed to herself. “I sound like my father now but I feel like I don’t know you.”

The nausea pulsed in my stomach. “I don’t know myself anymore.”

“I think you do.” Rebecca held me by the shoulders. “I want you to know that I love you to pieces whatever you do . . . but, Pip . . .” She squeezed my shoulders. “If I’m gonna help you and support you through this, I need the truth.”

“You’re not mad at me?” I felt a trickle of warmth on my cheeks and rubbed at the tears. “I don’t know why I have such a problem talking about things.”

“Because you think I’ll get mad at you and never talk to you again?”

I laughed through the sobs. “Something like that.”

Rebecca looked up at the balcony. Berne and Babs were chatting away. Well, Babs was jabbering on while Berne stared out into the distance.

“Did you realise how you felt about her when you met?”

I shook my head and retrieved a tissue from my pocket. “I can tell you that she provoked so many emotions that I was completely overwhelmed.”

I smiled. Berne had been playing that piano in the storm. When she’d turned to look at me, I had wanted to run away and towards her all at once. Such a collision of desperately wanting to know her and terrified to even look at her.

Berne was older, cooler, wiser, and effortlessly calm. She seemed to know what to say and what to do. She knew when to wait and when to charm me.

“I could barely speak when we met.” My stomach wriggled at the memory. “She could speak English but just listening to her made every part of me ache.”

“I am guessing she still has that knack?”

“Mmm.” I tried not to stare too long at Berne and Babs, tried not to read Babs’s lips in the hope of some enlightenment.

“Why did you leave her?” Rebecca was looking too. Babs held her attention though.

“Fear.”

“Of?”

How could I explain how petty it all was? How silly it sounded all these years later.

“Losing her.”

Rebecca looked at me but I nodded.

“Berne wanted to be in the gendarmerie, like her brother, but she wanted to be on the bikes.”

“And?” Rebecca sat back, surveying me as though she had never met me before. I suppose it was the first time she’d seen me inside out.

“Walking home, I was so in love.” I stared down at my hands. “I mean Berne meant so much to me that my whole life seemed to revolve around her.”

“Kinda what happens, Pip.”

“I know that, but it got too much maybe. I couldn’t operate without her as part of my day.” How could I explain the worry now? I couldn’t understand it myself. How could I untangle the mess of emotions from that terrible day? “I passed a motorcycle accident on the way home . . . an officer . . . it was awful.”

“Ah.”

Confused by her tone, I met Rebecca’s eyes, which filled with love. “You couldn’t bear the thought of that ever happening to her.” A smile drifted across her face. “You didn’t want to stop her chasing her dream either—”

“So I did the only thing I could and walked away.”

Not quite the full story but it was all I could manage. Rebecca pulled me into a cuddle. “Pip, you must have ripped out your heart and you went through it all alone.”

“Trust me, you helped . . . you always do.”

She rubbed a soothing hand on my back. “Actually, I do know you. Being so dumb and so sweet is exactly the girl I love.”

“Look where it’s gotten me. I’ll have to walk away all over again and this time I’ll have the searing pain of knowing some woman is sleeping beside her.” The pain of that brought more tears to my eyes.

“Why don’t you tell her?” Rebecca kissed the top of my head. “There’s no reason for you to leave now is there?”

“I promised Doug to marry him. I can’t ask Berne to give up Vivienne.”

“Why?”

Again, it would be something that sounded ridiculous to most people. Why shouldn’t I just be with the person I adored? Why shouldn’t I have what I wanted? “Because, I don’t want her to compromise who she is for me.”

“I don’t follow.”

Sighing, I sat up and rested my elbows on my knees. “She always had to fix everything for me. Doug has to do the same. I always feel like a baby and I want to be a person.” I stared out at Berne, searched for a sign that she was feeling better now. “I need to find who I am.”

“And being in love won’t give you that?”

I shook my head. “Not until I can stand up tall as an equal. Not until I stop being a coward. Be someone that whoever I am with looks to as much as I do them.”

Rebecca smiled. “I get that.”

Snuggling back into her, I let the relief ease through me. “I should have known you would. I’m sorry I kept it from you.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “But sharing helps you get your thoughts straight, you know?”

“I know that I love you, how’s that?”

Rebecca kissed me on the head once more. “Back at you, Pepe.”