The French Gardener (10 page)

That night Ava lay in bed with her book,
An Enchanted April
. But while her eyes scanned the pages, her mind was not on the words. Phillip lay beside her, his reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He always had at least four books on the go, placed in different parts of the house so he never found himself with nothing to read.

“Darling,” Ava began, allowing her book to rest against her knees. “I can’t make Jean-Paul out.”

Phillip replied without taking his eyes off the page. “What is there to make out?”

“I don’t know. Something isn’t right. It’s like the puzzle is missing one of its pieces.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Well. This afternoon I showed him around the gardens. On the one hand he’s not really interested in plants. Not as a gardener should be. But on the other he’s moved by the beauty of it. He loved the silly old dovecote and the oak tree. He took real interest in them.”

“What’s wrong with that?” He sighed, endeavoring to be patient.

“Oh, I don’t know what makes him tick.”

“You’ve known him a day.”

“Go back to your book. You just don’t see it, do you?”

“I don’t think there is anything to see. He’s not interested in plants but appreciates the beauty of the garden. I would say that is a point in the young man’s favor, wouldn’t you?”

She lifted her book off her knee. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m trying to find a missing piece to the puzzle. Go back to your book.” He smiled and began to read again. “After all, I’m the one who’s got to work with him and find him things to do. It’s all very well paying Henri back for helping you with your research, but I’m the one with the responsibility. Henri’s done nothing for me.” She looked at him but his face was impassive. “Oh, I’ll shut up. Just remember my reservations when it all goes up in smoke and Henri closes all those doors the length and breadth of France!”

The following morning Toddy kept her word and took Jean-Paul riding, leaving the twins with Archie, Angus and Poppy, playing around the hollow tree. Mr. Frisby slept in the porch, curled up in an old jersey. Phillip had gone shooting for the weekend in Gloucestershire, taking Tarquin with him. Ava was left alone with Bernie and the children, baffled that anyone would want to kill for sport.

She took the opportunity to tidy the cottage. The last resident had been Phillip’s bachelor brother who had used it as a weekend home. He had finally married and bought a house near Sherborne and Phillip had tried to rent it out. He put in a new kitchen and gave it a fresh coat of paint, but it proved unpopular as there was no driveway. People had to park their car up at the house, walk across the field and over the bridge, which was a big inconvenience for both parties. None of the potential residents had been suitable, until now.

Despite that, Ava had always liked the cottage. It was picturesque, nestling in isolation beneath leafy chestnut trees. Symmetrical with a big mossy roof and small windows, it was like a house in a fairy tale. To Ava it was a secret cottage, shrouded in romance and so pretty, with pink and white roses that scaled the walls and tumbled over the front door in summer. Outside, the river flowed slowly beneath the stone bridge and on to the sea.

She made the iron bed with clean sheets and threw the
bedspread into a corner to take back to the house to wash. She hoovered the carpets and polished the furniture, scrubbed the floor in the kitchen and hall. She threw open the windows to let autumn imbue the rooms with the sweet scent of damp grass. Satisfied with a job well done she stood awhile to admire it. A few logs in the grate, a boisterous fire, a good book and some classical music and it would feel just like home. She smiled with pleasure, then left with the bedspread.

Toddy returned with Jean-Paul in time for lunch. The children had played all morning in the tree, running into the hall with muddy boots and red cheeks. Jean-Paul disappeared upstairs to change. Toddy rummaged about in the boot of her Land Rover for a pair of slippers. Mr. Frisby awoke and scampered over the gravel to take up position around her neck like a pretty white stole. She let out a bellow of laughter as he nibbled her earlobe. “Did you miss me?” she asked, nuzzling him fondly.

Ava had roasted a couple of chickens. She stood by the Aga making gravy while the children jostled each other over the sink, fighting to wash their hands. Toddy returned and helped herself to a glass of apple juice from the fridge. Her black hair was short and spiky from having been trapped under her riding hat, her face flushed from the wind, her eyes shining from her morning with Jean-Paul. She sidled up to Ava. “He’s rather dishy!” she whispered with a smirk. “Fine figure of a man on a horse! He reminds me of a polo player I had in the Argentine before I married. He’d be fun to roll around with in the hay.”

“Curb your excitement. The last thing his ego needs is someone like you fancying him. Though, I dare say he’s probably worked it out already.”

“There’s no harm in a little window-shopping. I’m not intending to buy. That said, I wouldn’t mind taking him on approval.” She leaned back against the Aga to warm her bottom.

“Why don’t you introduce him to one of your cousins?”

“Not a bad idea. He’s going to be bored stiff in Hartington.”

“He can always spend the weekends in London. Cruise the King’s Road, go to the Feathers Ball at the Hammersmith Palais. Isn’t that what young people do these days?”

“He’s a bit old for the Feathers Ball, Ava!”

“Well, Tramp then, or Annabel’s. I wouldn’t know, I don’t like London.”

“He doesn’t look like your average gardener, does he?”

“Do you see what I mean? He’s too neat and tidy.”

“I never trust a man who’s neat and tidy. I once had a Spaniard who folded his clothes on the chair before making love. By the time he’d finished piling them up like a Benetton shop assistant I’d gone off the boil.”

“You do pick them, Toddy!”

“Jean-Paul better be a closet mess or I’ll stop fancying him!” She chuckled throatily.

At that moment Jean-Paul appeared in the doorway. He had changed into jeans and loafers, a pale blue shirt neatly tucked in to show off a leather cowboy belt. Toddy gave Ava a look, which she chose to ignore. “Right, children, to the table, please. Lunch is up.” The children clambered onto the banquette. “Jean-Paul, help yourself to a drink. You’d better get to know your way around if you’re going to be here for a while. Drinks are in the fridge or in the larder out there,” she instructed, pointing to a door leading off the kitchen. “Glasses up there, in the cupboard. Did you have a good morning?”

“Fantastic!” he exclaimed. “We rode up on the hill, so high we could see the sea.”

“We galloped over Planchett’s plateau,” Toddy added, putting down her glass so she could help dish up. “Big Red went like the clappers!”

“He’s a strong horse. I had to use all my strength to stop him running away with me.”

“I knew you could handle him,” said Toddy. “I wasn’t worried.”

“I was, a little,” he admitted with a grin.

Both women wavered a moment, spoons in the air, disarmed by the allure of his smile. Hastily, Ava dug her spoon into the dish of steaming peas.

Bernie wandered in, panting from having chased a pheasant across the lawn. His glistening chops were heavy with saliva. He went straight up to Jean-Paul and nudged him with his nose. Ava grabbed the towel which hung beside the Aga for this very purpose and hurried to mop up Bernie’s wet mouth. She expected Jean-Paul to edge away, appalled at the sight of those slimy gums threatening to end up on his jeans, but he didn’t. He bent down and swept back the dog’s ears with both hands, looking him straight in the eye. Bernie, who wasn’t used to people gazing at him so intensely, lowered his head bashfully. Jean-Paul took the towel from Ava’s hands and wiped Bernie’s chops himself, without comment. Ava didn’t risk catching Toddy’s eye. She could feel her friend staring at him from the butcher’s table, spoon in midair, clearly remembering the Argentine polo player.

Jean-Paul handed out the plates, helped the children to ketchup and gravy and was now busy carving chicken for the three adults. The children were sitting quietly, eating their food. “Jean-Paul, you’re a natural!” gushed Toddy, taking a plate and helping herself to some slices of chicken. “If you get bored over here you can always come and help out at Bucksley Farm.”

“This household is very English,” he replied, smiling at Ava. “If it continues like this, I think boredom will be the least of my problems!”

“I’ve finished the cottage,” Ava said, finally sitting down with her lunch.

“Ah, good,” he replied.

“I’ll take you there this afternoon. Then you’re independent. You can come and go as you wish. It’ll be your home for as long as you are here.”

“You are very generous.”

“Don’t thank me until you’ve seen it. It’s rather rustic, I warn you.”

“I have no problem with rustic.”

“That’s good.”

“And you can come out riding with me whenever you want,” Toddy interjected slyly. Then, responding to a warning look from Ava, she added: “I have some cousins your age who live nearby. The girls are especially pretty. They’d be good company for you. If you prefer, you can ride out with them.”

“I have a lot of choices,” he replied, taking a mouthful of chicken. “Ava is a marvelous cook!” He nodded appreciatively. “Everything you prepare is delicious. I don’t think I want to go and live in the cottage after all!”

Ava was flattered. “You can have lunch and dinner with us whenever you like.” Though, she doubted he’d do either once he had settled into the cottage.

After lunch they all walked through the field to the river to show Jean-Paul his new home. The children left their camp to play on the bridge, throwing twigs into the water. The air was damp, the sky gray on the horizon, bad weather was coming in off the sea. It would rain later.

“I haven’t done anything about firewood, Jean-Paul, but the barn near the house is full of logs. Take as many as you need, there’s a cart you can fill and pull down here. If you wait until Monday, Hector will help you.”

“I can do it myself. Don’t worry.”

“It’s going to pour,” said Toddy, thinking of her horses out in the field.

“I suggest you stay in the house tonight and move into the cottage tomorrow. You don’t have so much as a bottle of
milk in the fridge, so you’d better eat with me. You can take my car into town on Monday and buy everything you need. Fred the milkman comes during the week with dairy products and the papers, Ned the breadman comes three days a week to deliver bread and buns. I have an account with both. Please feel free to order whatever you require.”

At the sight of the cottage Jean-Paul’s face widened into a broad smile. “It is adorable,” he said, striding towards it. “I will be happy here, for sure.”

Toddy nudged Ava. “Won’t be going home then,” she hissed with a chuckle.

“Or to live with you,” Ava replied. “Bad luck!”

They joined him as the first drops of rain began to fall. Ava fished in her trouser pocket for the key. “It’s rather old and rusty, but it works.” The door opened with a whine and they walked inside. The children remained outside, watching the rain create patterns on the water.

Inside it was warmer. The air was perfumed with wood polish, wax and pine-scented floor cleaner. Upstairs the windows were still open. A draft hurtled down the stairs. They took off their boots. Ava ran upstairs to shut out the rain, Jean-Paul and Toddy went into the sitting room. Bernie lay outside against the door, watching the children.

As Ava closed the window, she caught sight of the children on the bridge. Archie and the twins were ragging around, while Poppy and Angus were pointing at something in the water. Suddenly the sky opened, throwing out buckets of rain. They squealed like startled mice and scampered off in the direction of the hollow tree. Then, in the midst of the rain, the clouds parted and the sun unexpectedly shone through, setting the sky alight with the most beautiful rainbow. The sunshine flooded her spirit with joy and she was at once gripped with the need to share it. She ran downstairs.

“Hurry, outside!” she yelled, her voice quivering with excitement.

Toddy and Jean-Paul appeared in the hall. “What’s going on?” Toddy demanded, her thoughts turning immediately to her children. She had a vision of them drowning in the river.

“A rainbow!” Ava replied, opening the door. “You’ve got to see it.” She struggled into her boots and dashed outside. Bernie leapt to his feet, catching her sense of exhilaration.

Ava could feel the rain dripping down her neck but she didn’t mind. It was worth it. She had never seen a rainbow so clear that she could pick out every color, even the elusive pink which sits between green and turquoise and is usually so blurred as to be hidden altogether.

She looked at Jean-Paul, and caught him looking at her. She smiled, masking the unease she felt beneath the intensity of his stare.

Ava folded her arms and for once she shivered in her shirtsleeves.

“Wow! That’s impressive!” Toddy exclaimed, wrapping her coat tightly about her. “Can we go back inside now?”

“You go. Take Jean-Paul with you. I want to stay out until it goes,” Ava replied.

Toddy hurried back to the cottage and Jean-Paul was left no option but to follow.

Ava walked over to the bridge where she stood in the rain, now falling in a light drizzle. She was glad to be alone. She wished Toddy would go home and Jean-Paul would disappear. The sooner he moved into the cottage the better. She wasn’t good at being around people all the time. She was beginning to feel trapped, unable to breathe. There on the bridge, alone with the elements, she felt better. She could hear the gentle trickle of the stream and the wind rustling through the trees, but no voices. It was quiet.

Finally, the rainbow faded. The clouds closed to hide the
sun, like curtains on a magnificent stage. Ava was once again faced with having to perform. Toddy and Jean-Paul emerged and she turned to smile at them. “I think a cup of tea would warm us all up, don’t you, Ava?” said Toddy stridently, setting off towards the house.

“I wonder where the children ran off to?”

“They’ll be soaking wet, I should imagine,” said Toddy. “We should put them all in a hot bath!”

“I bet they hid in the hollow tree. They’re probably as dry as little moles.” She was right. They saw the grown-ups approaching and peeped out excitedly.

“My God! They’re packed in there like sardines,” Toddy exclaimed. “Are they all alive?” Poppy spilled out and ran to her mother.

“Did you see the rainbow?” she cried. “It was enormous!” Ava took her hand. It was cold and wet.

“Did you see pink?”

“Yes!” And she listed the colors one by one. “Pink and green go together, don’t they, Mummy?”

“You’re right, darling. Pink and green go together. They are my favorite colors.” She turned to Jean-Paul. “Next time, look out for pink. It’s there, but you have to really look for it.”

“Like beauty,” he said. “Beauty is in everything if you really look for it.”

“That’s open to debate,” interjected Toddy. “I look for it every morning in the mirror but it still eludes me.”

“I think your children see it every time they look at you,” said Jean-Paul. Toddy looked embarrassed. “Your own beauty is not yours to find,” he continued.

Ava walked on, holding her daughter’s hand. She was certain that Jean-Paul had found his own beauty in the mirror a long time ago.

That night Ava laid two places for dinner at the kitchen
table. She busied herself cooking a lasagna so that she didn’t have to look at them. Those two placements made her feel anxious, as if she were on a first date. It was years since she had eaten alone with a strange man. It didn’t feel right. Had Jean-Paul been plain or gauche, it wouldn’t have mattered. The fact was, he was handsome. Worse, he was
predatory
. Her stomach twisted with nerves. What on earth was she going to talk about? She decided not to have pudding. That way dinner would be short and she could leave him in the sitting room watching
Dallas
and go to bed. She contemplated keeping Archie up, but that might look odd. She didn’t want to behave like an inexperienced twenty-year-old. Good God, she was a married mother of thirty-seven. Finally, she put the place settings on trays and decided they could both eat in front of the telly.