Gemini Rain (11 page)

The trees that were now becoming
bare of leaves
where when she first arrived they
were coming to life, the young animals grazing in the small forest and on the farm were still young but she could see them
maturing. Soon it will be winter then spring, she thought, wonder what
change
s
will there be
in my view then?

Trailing back to when she first told her family and friends she was moving here, she enjoyed playing mind games with some of them, trying to predict what each individual’s reaction would be. Some wished her luck but she knew by the look on their faces what they were really thinking then there were the ones who were truly genuine, chuckling as she remembered one of her more snooty friends asking her ‘why Marseille? If you want to discover France go to St. Tropez or St. Raphael darling.’ Lauren quickly responded ‘have you ever visited Marseille?’ When she got a negative response she asked, ‘then how do you know it’s not just as beautiful and as French as everywhere else.’

Honestly, she didn’t know why she picked
this little village so close to
Marseille the second largest city in France, wanting to be in the countryside but close to a city because she knew she’d go crazy stuck in the middle of nowhere. But after visiting so many different places like La Rochelle, Bergerac and even close to Paris, all were just as good
and as beautiful
as here, but none of the houses had the feel to it like this one, it definitely emanated the word ‘home’ with undeniable charm. And Marseille reminded her so much of Dublin, it had a soul of its own. As much as Dublin was Ireland’s gateway to Europe, Marseille still gave a cosmopolitan atmosphere as the gateway to the Mediterranean and Africa.

The view alone of the Provencal village with its small church and shops, its obligatory playing area for the popular game of
Boules
and its plane trees made her want to rent it straight away. Once inside the house it’s design was modern which was a surprise as the outside was so traditional with its blue shutters and Provencal stone. Along with the dressed stone arches, antique floor tiles and open wooden beams she noticed that there were light bulbs and a fantastically all mod-con kitchen,
‘
at least the previous occupiers didn’t take the kitchen presses with them this time,
’
she laughed.

Now that was something she couldn’t understand about the French, if they moved from rented accommodation or even when they sold a house, they took everything, one place she viewed only had the kitchen sink, even the sockets in the walls were gone with wires just hanging from each hole!

But this house was welcoming and bright, she felt the people
who lived here were happy but w
hen she found out it was a divorce case
she decided
that
they must have been happy at some time
in their marriage
.

Sitting down again to continue with her typing her mind then turned to the events of this morning, ‘poor Gabrielle,’ sighing as she stopped her work yet again.

Usually she greeted Lauren with a wide smile and a kiss on each cheek but Lauren knew straight away that something was wrong as they gave each other that familiar French greeting of kissing each cheek. There was no smile this morning; her eyes were bloodshot as if she was crying and her hearty chuckle was gone when she spoke. Earlier she didn’t see Jean-Pierre in the forest where s
he jogged
with both of her new friends
now becoming part of Lauren’s early morning routine.

The torture they were putting themselves through, or rather what their son was putting them through. After Peter’s death, she found it hard to comprehend how people gave up on their marriage so easily, then she admittedly sighed, ‘Maybe, like us they tried, maybe like me they were too stubborn, too bloody proud to admit their mistakes.’

It was only then she made the connection,
‘
the owners of this house are divorced or are getting divorced. I wonder is this their house?
’
But she soon dismissed the thought,
‘
no, they must live in Paris, sure isn’t that where the divorce is taking place now.
’

This morning, Gabrielle rambled on so much about David’s adultery; his temper tantrums and emotional outbursts, the poor woman is lucky Lauren hates spreading gossip never contemplating repeating a word.
‘
Well actu
ally Lauren,
’
correcting herself
,
‘
you hate gossip about yourself, vicious gossip. Was it not one of the reasons you left Ireland?
’
cringing at the thought.

Most of what Gabrielle said Lauren understood soon coming to the conclusion that she didn’t like this David. It’s sounded to her like he was a spoilt brat and yet Gabrielle and Jean-Pierre didn’t give her the impression that they would treat any of their children differently or would spoil them.
‘
Perhaps he’s one
of those crazy geniuses who have
a peculiar outlook on life, then again it could be the lifestyle he leads,
’
she thought.
  All the
‘
Yes Men
’
in that line of business no wonder people lose their grip on reality.

After Gabrielle first spoke about him in one of their earlier encounters, Lauren decided to check information about him on the Internet so as to show an interest,
‘
the woman is so proud of all her sons,
’
Lauren thought.

Although there were many sites in French which she ignored mainly because she knew she wouldn’t understand them, she eventually found two English films he took cameo roles in and was prepared the next time they spoke about their families. Gabrielle was delighted when Lauren knew some of his work calling out to Jean-Pierre to inform him that his son was also known in
Lauren’s home of
England. 
‘
Ireland,
’
Lauren
silently
corrected her,
‘
I’m from Ireland
.’

Finishing
with the
typing she headed for the kitchen to make a cup of tea and prepare for her children’s usual attack on her food supplies. Wondering if she should call by the farm before collecting
Emma
and Keith from school, she stopped herself. Only call when one is invited this isn’t Ireland, but they were so friendly to her.
‘
Ah, stuff French protocol I’ll call anyhow!
’ she said to no-one in particular as there was no-one there
to correct her manners
.
It was 3.30pm.

Chapter 9
 

The door of the farmhouse swung open.

‘Yes!’ The tall, dark-haired woman looked down at Lauren with distaste.

‘Sorry, but I was looking for Gabrielle, I spoke with her this morning…’ Lauren started to get nervous, maybe this was a bad idea she thought arching her neck to look up to the woman.
‘
Christ she’s tall enough without using the high doorstep to tower over me.
’

‘Listen, if you’re another repo
rter you can leave now, it’s
your fault in the first place,’ the woman now starting to raise her voice.

‘No, no you’re mistaken. I’m a…Ah, it doesn’t matter,’ without realising she was speaking in English, ‘I’m sorry,’ turning to walk towards her car, ‘Big mistake Lauren,’ she muttered under her breath. Opening the Landcruiser’s door she heard Jean-Pierre call, she looked up as he was running towards her.

‘Lauren I’m sorry for my daughter-in-law’s greeting,
she didn’t realise who you were,
’
taking her arm,
‘
p
lease come in, Gabrielle
will be happy for your company.
’
Lauren
felt by his grip new company was definitely on the menu.

Walking towards the doorway this time the tall woman’s expression was not of anger, Lauren noted the smiling
but apologetic
face now greeting her looked more natural or rather more comfortable on the woman’s olive skinned features.

‘I’m sorry, Madame I didn’t realise you were our new neighbour. Gabrielle has spoken many times about you but I do shift work in the hospital in Marseille rarely getting to meet new arrivals, in this village that is,’ she smiled. Lauren looked up to her offering her hand with Veronique gladly accepting.

The three entered the house together with Lauren
lingering slightly
waiting for them to lead the way. Once inside the kitchen Gabrielle greeted her new friend with her usual cheerful zest, but the smile was soon gone from her face, ‘The news from Paris is bad, I’m afraid,’ the tears starting to commence again. Like this morning Lauren felt a little uneasy at the Gabrielle’s openness.

‘Now Gabrielle,’ Veronique tried to calm her mother-in-law as she eased them both to the table, ‘Lauren is here to see if you are okay, that is all,’ she was getting concerned Gabrielle would say too much.

Recognising her concern Lauren interceded, ‘I don’t need to know the details, but you will recover from this, believe me. Trust me, time can heal.’

Gabrielle searched Lauren’s face, the young woman spoke with such certainty but her eyes always revealed another story. They were sky blue, penetrating and should shine like a bright summer sky but they were always sad and dull.
‘
Has she truly grieved for her husband yet?
’
  Remembering when her own mother died, her father showed strength to everybody but she heard him cry late at night when all should be silent.

Veronique placed four small coffee cups and home made biscuits on the table as she sat down. Looking toward Jean-Pierre, he
was standing at the back door
putting on his jacket, ‘Are you not joining us?’ she enquired surprised by his actions.

‘No I’ll leave you women to talk and
use this opportunity to
take the dogs for a brief walk. I won’t be long, just to check on the goats. Good idea, yes?’ winking at them as he left.

‘I’m sorry but I’ve got to leave soon too,’ Lauren checked her watch, it took thirty minutes to get to the school and it was now 4pm, school finished at 4.45pm. ‘I just called because I was worried for you after this morning. I hope you don’t mind my intrusion,’ knowing an apology was in order knowing the French little intricacies on protocol.

‘But of course not,’ Gabri
elle reassuringly took her hand.
‘You are always welcome and don’t mind Veronique,’ winking at her daughter-in-law, ‘I trust you.’ And with that she commenced her story of the day’s events in Paris.

Veronique was surprised how easily Gabrielle talked with this stranger, but decided her best option was to keep quiet knowing how Gabrielle and Jean-Pierre were usually good judges of character. Watching the two women speak she saw an inkling of a bond forming between them. She regretted never having that with Gabrielle, their relationship was a typical mother-in-law, daughter-in-law one. Close because they both had love for the same man but distant because of the different era in which each woman was raised.

Veronique’s own mother was st
ill living in the village below
she was the local mid-wife with Veronique following in her footsteps. Loving her work in the maternity section in one of the large Marseille hospitals, the atmosphere was so full of life, so happy. Not that it wasn’t happy here
normally that is,
but lately everything was centred on David and his impending divorce from Francoise.

She was dying to tell them she was pregnant again but Joel said to wait until all had settled down and the family was back to normal. She knew Gabrielle and Jean-Pierre would be delighted, Gabrielle had noted she was putting on a bit of weight, ‘You can afford to, you’re tall and you work too hard,’ Gabrielle informed her. Veronique was thrilled she noticed and was going to tell her at that very moment but she held back, after the heartbreak of two miscarriages she and Joel knew it was best to keep quiet until after the scan and the okay from the doctor.

Veronique studied this new woman in Gabrielle’s life, of average height and e
xtremely fair skinned her dark
hair was tied back into a ponytail which emphasized the soft pretty features of her f
ace, could Veronique see some auburn highlights and she wore black which
probably
over-
emphasised her fair skin. Veronique noted she was listening to Gabrielle intensely, with compassion and understanding, her expression would only change if she couldn’t understand what Gabrielle was saying, rarely interrupting or showing opinion, but doubts were ticking away at t
he back of Veronique’s
head wondering i
f this could woman be trusted.
‘
And w
hy
cho
o
se to live here?’
she thought.