L'amour Actually (29 page)

  'So do you speak French with a bit of an English accent?'

  'Well, to be honest, the local accent is so strong that anyone who doesn't speak like that has an accent, if you know what I mean. I think they mostly assume I'm from Paris.'

  'Which is a bit like being from Mars, but slightly less acceptable by all accounts.'

  'You've noticed! Yes, it can be a bit closed around here but my grandmother lived in the village and I spent most of my summers here so they've pretty much let me in.'

  'So what's brought you back, if you don't mind me asking?'

  'The usual thing. Love. Cheesy but sadly true. When I was here in the summer, I became friends with a local boy. We used to hang out and do kids' stuff, then as we got older we moved up to the village dances and
fêtes
. In the end I went off to university, he stayed here and we drifted apart. But when my grandmother died, she left me her house and I came back here for a while. We met up again and we've been more or less together ever since.'

  'Oh wow, that's so romantic. I love a good love story. So are you back for good?'

  'No, just for a month unfortunately, then I have to go back to Guyane and finish my final year. After that, we plan to get married and have lots of babies. What about you? What brought you here?'

  'Oh you know, the usual. Escape,' I said, smiling at her.

  'Oh, very British! You watched those programmes too, did you? My mum hates them. She says they give such a false picture of life here.'

  'Well you know what they say, mothers are always right. I do love it, though it hasn't been an easy ride. Long story for another time! I've met someone here though so that's helped.'

  'Really? That's lovely. Who is it? Anyone I…' She stopped as her mobile rang in her pocket. 'Oh, it's the man,' she said smiling as she looked at the screen, 'excuse me. I'll catch you later.'

  She moved off to the corner of the room and I couldn't help noticing how Jo's face had lit up when the call came in and I could see her now, giggling and laughing into her phone, oblivious to the world.

  I smiled to myself and thought of Julien. That was how I felt when he called. That wonderful warm, fuzzy feeling you get when you are in love.

  'Come on girl, gee up!' Chummy's braying voice cut through my daydreams. 'Doc's on now. It's the Texas Two Step.'

  I looked up to see a young man in very tight jeans taking the floor while Céline, the instructor, looked on smugly.

  'It's her husband,' whispered Chummy loudly. 'Who'd have thought eh? She's no spring chicken either.'

  Céline clapped her hands to call the room to order. I couldn't quite catch what she was saying in full but the word '
mari'
, which I knew meant husband, kept cropping up with alarming regularity. Probably just making sure that we all know he's taken, I thought. Mind you, if I were a middle-aged woman with a hot young husband, I'd probably be the same.

  'Hey guys, I'm Doc. Nice to meet y'all,' he shouted with a heavy southern American twang. 'Y'all ready for some line dancing?' He pronounced 'line' like 'laaaaahn'. The French looked foxed.

  'Sorry guys, I meant
la danse country
.' Country came out like 'coon tree'.

  'OK, I want y'all to laahn up behind me.'

  He turned round and presented a very well constructed rear to the class. I was sure I caught him smiling as a bunfight, so to speak, developed among the
femmes d'un certain age
who were all pushing and shoving each other to get the prime spot directly behind him.

  The music started and Doc slowly went through the steps, taking it in good spirits when he was called from the front to give a bit of personal attention to one of the women who 'simply can't seem to get it right.'

  Across the room, Jo smiled at me and rolled her eyes.

  'Cougars,' I mouthed back to her and she laughed.

  It was the most bizarre sight. Suddenly, all these matrons had become giggling schoolgirls in the presence of a taut bum in tight jeans, fiddling with their hair and making some fairly overt double entendres.

  I stumbled my way through the last few routines and breathed a sigh of relief when the clock hit eight and it was time to finish.

  'Blimey, I'm so unfit,' puffed Tracey, red in the face and breathless. 'I'm just going outside for a bit of fresh air. Back in a mo.'

  'OK, I'll go and get the licence forms we need to fill in.' The French government had recently decreed, in its wisdom, that line dancing was a sport and as such, you needed to have a licence to two-step and the instructors had to be registered. The French really could take bureaucracy to a whole new level.

  'Never mind a licence, you should come with a health warning – "Line dancing next to this person can seriously damage your ankles", I'll be bruised for weeks!'

  I gave her a comedy glare. 'Seriously, forget singing and go for stand-up. You'd be a riot. Or cause one at least. Go on, I'll catch you in a minute.'

  'Bloody marvellous fun, eh?' boomed Chummy, doing an impromptu little dance in front of me.

  'Well I wasn't sure at first but in the end, actually it was, even if I was totally crap at it. Thanks for making me come along.'

  'Don't worry gal, I've been at this for nearly five years now and only just starting to put my hooves in the right place. Well, must dash. Rodders is waiting for me up at the bar in Rocamour. Fancy a snifter?'

  'Maybe. I'll see what Tracey wants to do.' It was harvest season and I had barely seen Julien, who seemed to spend all of his time out on the combine. He told me there were a few more weeks to go and then life would be back to normal. I was really missing him so it was good to have something else to focus on, even if it was only line dancing.

  Standing in line, waiting to collect the forms, I watched Céline and Doc. Despite the age difference and everything else, they were clearly in love. As he chatted to everyone, he would inadvertently touch her back or rub her arm and she just oozed adoration. When I got to the head of the queue, I couldn't help myself. 'So, how did you two meet then?' I asked Doc.

  'Well, ah was working on detachment at the US Embassy in Paris. Ahm from the Midwest so we just lurve to lahn dance and ah found a bar that had dancin' every week. It was a liddle diff'rent from back home…' 'You mean the Achy Breaky thing,' I laughed.

  'Yeah, you noticed then. The French think that Billy Ray Cyrus is the only country singer to come out of the US. Ah had to re-educate them. Céline was the teacher so ah got to know her real well and we just sorta fell in love really. When it was time to go home ah couldn't leave her so ah bought mah way out of the military and we got married. Got two lil' ones now as well.'

  'That's a lovely story. You're both very lucky people.'

  'Ah think so too.'

  I wished him goodnight then went to collect my bag and Tracey's jacket. Céline and Doc had obviously found their soul mates and I wondered if I had too.

  I had hoped to catch up with Jo at the end of the class but she had left pretty quickly. I was just about to leave the hall when Tracey rushed in looking flustered and uncomfortable. She grabbed my arm, pulling me back inside.

  'Right, let's get this licence thing sorted now shall we? Strike while the iron's hot and all that.'

  'No, it's fine. We can bring them back next week.'

  'Nah, come on. I know what a lazy cow I am. If we don't do it now we'll be back to our old ways, eating too much and necking Cristal, and your new man will be leaving you for a thinner model.'

  I unconsciously pulled in my stomach. 'Well, if you really want to. Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost.'

  'Nah, I'm fine. Still a bit puffed. That's all.'

  With the forms duly filled in and handed back to Doc and Céline, who were pleased at our enthusiasm, we left the hall and decided to go to the bar for a quick drink.

  As we walked to Tracey's car, I couldn't help but notice her glancing around nervously. 'Are you sure you're all right?'

  'Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry. Let's go and get a drink. I think I need one.'

  After a quick drink up at the bar with Chummy and Rodders, I arrived home and went straight to lay on a sun lounger in the garden to gaze at the stars and mull over the evening's events. Despite my initial reservations, they were both turning out to be really good fun. Rodders had tried to ply us with
rosé
but Tracey had still been a bit distracted and didn't want to stay long. I wondered what had happened to upset her, but whatever it was, she wasn't telling. The phone dinged to let me know a text had come in.

'Chérie, I miss you so much. Can I see you tonight? I won't finish until late, maybe after midnight. Can I come over then? Xxx'

I texted back.

'Yes, yes, yes, any time, day or night. I miss you.'

The long, hot summer slipped seamlessly into a rich, blue-skied autumn with a definite nip in the air. My morning coffee and croissant, a habit I just hadn't managed to ditch, was still taken on the terrace but in a warm jumper rather than a summer top. Around me, the landscape changed as the fields were ploughed ready for winter crops and the leaves on the trees turned from greens to red, burnt umber and gold. I never tired of the view from my terrace. Julien was still in the midst of harvesting and ploughing and time together was rare and precious – and more often than not, in the middle of the night. The lot of a farmer's partner was a hard one, I thought to myself.

  '
Coucou
, you out there?' called Tracey, who had taken to using the French version of 'coo-eee', the nearest she had ever quite managed to integration – if you don't count line dancing.

  'On the terrace. Grab yourself a coffee. It's in the pot.'

  A few minutes later, she sat down next to me, hands wrapped round a streaming mug. 'Bloody brassic out here today. Is it nearly summer again?'

  'I wish. We've got winter to get through yet. Mind you, loads of people have told me that you can eat Christmas dinner in your shorts here, so maybe it won't be so bad.'

  'Yeah well, you could eat Christmas dinner in your shorts in Siberia too. It just might kill you.'

  I smiled. It was a fair comment. Quite a lot of what I had been told about life in France had proved to be a figment of someone's overactive imagination, or one too many glasses of
rosé
.

  We sat in silence, lost in our own thoughts, gazing out across the valley. After a few moments, Tracey broke the silence.

  'Look, there's something I need to say. Don't interrupt me or I'll lose my nerve.'

  I turned to her, a worried feeling growing in my stomach. Tracey had been a bit distant for the past few days, as if something was playing on her mind.

  'You know the other night, at line dancing, when I went outside… the thing is…' she struggled to find the right words.

  'Come on, Trace, Whatever it is can't be that bad, surely.'

  'Don't bet on it,' she muttered. 'OK.'

  She took a deep breath but before she had a chance to say what was on her mind, a deafening volley of shots rang out across the valley, followed by shouts and the baying of dogs.

  'Bloody effin' hell,' shouted Tracey, flinging herself to the floor. 'Get down!'

  She pulled me off my chair and on to the floor next to her. 'Keep down. It must be some loony going on a shooting spree. What? What is it?'

  I was convulsed with laughter, tears streaming down my face. I could barely breathe, let alone talk.

  'What?'

  '
La chasse
, hunters,' I choked.

  'What hunters?'

  I pulled myself together, wiping my eyes on the back of my hand.

  'It's the hunting season. It starts today. Julien was telling me about it.'

  'Hunting what?'

  'Boar, deer, partridge, wood pigeon.'

  'Wood pigeon? What the bloody hell do they do with a wood pigeon? Is there nothing that these people don't eat?'

  I stood up, putting my hand out to pull Tracey up too. From the end of the garden we could see the hunters crossing the valley, the dogs on the scent of some poor, unfortunate animal.

  'Don't worry Trace, it only goes on until February.'