The French Retreat (Falling for France Book 1) (13 page)

‘I’d nearly forgotten about Monday and the interview,’ said Marcie. ‘Can’t say it’s high on my priority list right now.’

A silence fell between them. Will couldn’t think of anything to say. Well, not anything that he thought he should say. Now wasn’t the time to tell her to come back, that he missed her already, that he had fallen for her. It wasn’t fair. She had her life in the UK to rebuild. He had nothing to offer her.

Marcie broke the silence first. ‘I’d better go. I must be running you up a huge phone bill.’

‘You might as well keep the phone,’ said Will. He couldn’t care less about the phone bill. Or the phone for that matter. ‘I’ve no use for it here and you’ve every use for it there.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ said Marcie. ‘I can’t keep your phone. I’ll give it to Ben. He can bring it back with him.’

As he suspected, she wasn’t planning on coming back herself. ‘That will be great,’ he heard himself saying. There was that silence again before Will filled in the gap. ‘Right, well, mind how you go.’ He hung up.

Mind how you go. What sort of goodbye was that? The most awkward one possible, that’s what it was. Christ, he was such a loser. He was clearly bloody useless at relationship stuff. Caring about someone was hard. Not caring was a whole lot easier.

The following morning, Marcie woke to the sound of the intercom buzzer being continually pressed. It took her a moment to remember where she was. Her London flat. She stumbled out of bed and into the living room where she picked up the handset. ‘Hello.’

‘It lives!’ It was Ben’s voice. ‘You going to let me in?’

Marcie pressed the door release button and went back to grab her dressing gown, flicking the kettle onto boil as she did so.

‘You’re up early,’ said Marcie as she opened the internal door to the flat and let Ben in.

‘Needed to make sure you were all right.’

‘As you can see, I’m here in one piece.’ She took two mugs from the cupboard and dropped a tea bag in each.

‘Just as well,’ said Ben taking a seat at the breakfast bar. ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to explain what happened. I’ve been on the phone to Will this morning and he’s told me everything.’

Marcie hoped Will hadn’t actually told Ben everything. She didn’t need a lecture from her brother about sleeping with one of his mates. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

‘It’s okay. No real harm done in France,’ said Ben. ‘I’ve also been on the phone to the local police and Yves, placating them. To be honest, they’re just happy that your friends have gone.’

‘Are you cross with me?’ Marcie poured the water into the cups.

‘Not cross,’ said Ben. ‘Not now, anyway. Probably just as well I knew nothing about it beforehand. I think I would have gone grey overnight. What happens to the woman and her son now?’

‘They can claim asylum. They’ve got a good chance of being allowed to stay, especially as Fatimah’s sister is already living here. She’s married to an Englishman.’

‘I hope it works out for her.’

‘We’re going to keep in touch,’ said Marcie. ‘She’s a lovely woman and deserves a new start. And so does her son.’

As they drank their tea, Ben brought Marcie up to date with Lisa’s mother.

‘She’s making good progress but it’s going to be some time before she’s fully recovered,’ he said. ‘Lisa’s in no hurry to leave her. In fact, she’s talking about staying here over Christmas.’

‘It’s only natural,’ said Marcie. ‘What will you do?’

‘I’ll probably stay too. Don’t really want to spend Christmas on my own in France with just Will and Poppy for company.’

‘What about Will?’ said Marcie. She didn’t like the thought of Will on his own over the festive period.

‘I’ll speak to him again later,’ said Ben. ‘He’s welcome to stay at The Retreat. I don’t think he’s any particular desire to see his family.’

‘But he’ll be there on his own,’ said Marcie. ‘You can’t count the dog as proper company.’

Ben gave a laugh. ‘Will’s a grown man, I’m sure he can manage. In fact, knowing him, he’ll probably relish the solitude.’ Ben gave Marcie a sideways glance. ‘You seem very concerned about him.’

Marcie shrugged and looked out of the window. ‘Just don’t like the thought of anyone alone at Christmas,’ she said trying to sound casual.

‘Speaking of alone at Christmas,’ said Ben. ‘What are you doing? You know you have an open invitation to come and stay with us and Lisa’s parents. Goes without saying.’

‘I know, thanks,’ said Marcie. She smiled at her brother. ‘To be honest, I had planned on staying in France but now you won’t be there and I’ve got this job interview next week, I’m not sure what to do.’

‘Come to us, then,’ urged Ben. ‘Lisa will be delighted to see you. Don’t get me wrong, she loves her mum, but twenty-four-seven …’ He left the sentence unfinished.

‘Okay,’ said Marcie. ‘I’ll do that. It will be nice to see Lisa. Thanks.’ She forced a smile but was aware that although her acceptance was gracious, deep down it was with reluctance.

Chapter Thirteen

Marcie spent most of Sunday packing up her belongings in the flat. It was a good way to distract herself from thinking about Will. Or so she thought. Emily had come over to help her with the packing and although they chatted away, Marcie was aware she wasn’t totally committed to the conversations as her thoughts drifted back to Will. Once or twice she had to make a conscious effort to tune back into what Emily was saying. Just as well Emily could talk nineteen to the dozen.

‘So, all the stuff you’re keeping is on this side,’ said Emily placing her hands on her hips as she surveyed the room. ‘And all the stuff that’s going into storage is over there.’

‘Yep. That’s about it,’ said Marcie. Ben had asked Lisa’s parents if she could store her furniture and belongings in their garage, to which they had kindly agreed. The rest of her possessions, all four boxes and two suitcases, she was taking to Emily’s with her. Marcie was officially moving in with her today.

‘I’m sorry I haven’t got more space,’ said Emily. ‘I feel a bit guilty making you leave most of your things in storage.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ said Marcie. ‘I really appreciate your help.’ She looked over at the boxes she was taking with her. If she was really ruthless, she could probably half the amount again. It would be easier transporting it to France that way. She shook the random thought from her mind, not quite sure where it had appeared from.

‘You look miles away,’ said Emily. ‘You okay?’

‘I’m fine,’ said Marcie quickly She hadn’t told Emily about Will. There had seemed little point. At the end of the day, what happened between her and Will was no more than a holiday romance. There was no future for them, despite what Fatimah had said.

‘Are you worried about tomorrow, you know, the interview?’ said Emily. ‘There’s really no need. They’re just going through the motions. You know what it’s like.’

Marcie summoned up a smile. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I still want to make a good impression.’

‘What you need is a distraction,’ said Emily. ‘Come on, I think we’ve earned ourselves a drink after all our hard work.’

Marcie allowed Emily to take her along to the local wine bar. To be honest, she just felt like having a long hot soak and curling up on the sofa with a book. She knew Emily too well to think that would be a possibility. Perhaps she just needed time to settle back into the busy London scene. It was certainly different to what she had been used to for the past couple of months.

As Marcie sat nursing a glass of wine, Emily chattered away about her work, telling Marcie all the office gossip in her own version of Who’s Who. Marcie tried to look attentive and, indeed, take an interest, she was, after all, going to be working with these people soon.

‘That’s the low down on your future work colleagues,’ said Emily. ‘I suppose, I’d better cover the boring bits now, just in case you get asked about them tomorrow.’

‘Boring bits?’

‘Yes, things like, targets and sales.’

‘Yuk,’ said Marcie. ‘Targets and sales are swear words in my book. Have I really got to face all that?’

‘Don’t worry, you’ll soon learn all the short cuts and tips of the trade,’ said Emily. ‘All the ways to beat the system. For example …’

Marcie could feel herself switching off. Emily’s chirpy voice faded into the distance.

For the first time in over two months, Marcie dressed in a smart business suit and a pair of high heels, ready for the interview that morning. She couldn’t say she had missed either. Living in cargo trousers and trainers or walking boots all the time in France had been liberating. As had not wearing any make-up. Today, she felt restricted and false.

‘Looking good, girlfriend,’ said Emily as Marcie came into the kitchen. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘About what? The clothes or the interview?’ said Marcie, smoothing her skirt down. ‘I feel like I’ve been stuffed into a straitjacket. As for the interview, I’m trying not to think about it.’

‘You’ll be fine,’ said Emily. ‘Just relax, remember they want you.’

Marcie swiped a slice of toast from Emily’s plate. ‘They might not after this morning.’

‘You could try smiling?’

Marcie threw a sarcastic smile at her friend. ‘Better?’

Emily gave Marcie an old fashioned look of reproach, which Marcie chose to ignore.

She wandered over to the Christmas tree, gazing at the silver baubles. If only they were crystal balls and she could see into the future. She so didn’t want to go for this interview. What if she was offered the job? After listening, and sometimes half listening, to Emily last night going on about her work, Marcie was more and more certain it wasn’t where she really wanted to be. If she was offered the job, and she accepted it, she would be sucked back into the corporate world. One where numbers, statistics, performance and targets were king. If Marcie had learned anything during her time in France, it was that material things weren’t important. People were.

‘Marcie.’ Emily’s voice broke her thoughts. ‘Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t think you heard a word I just said. You need to relax, otherwise the interview is going to be a complete write-off. I know I said the job was yours, but you’ve still got to put some effort in. At least pretend to be enthusiastic.’

Marcie turned to Emily. In a moment of clarity, she knew what she had to do.

‘Don’t hate me,’ she said going over to her friend and hugging her.

Emily held Marcie at arm’s length. ‘What are you going on about?’ She gave Marcie a little shove. ‘Have a cup of tea and try to focus on today.’

‘No, you don’t understand,’ said Marcie. ‘I’m not going for the interview. I’ve changed my mind.’

Emily looked at Marcie and gave a laugh. ‘Are you having one of your crazy five minutes?’

‘Not at all. In fact, this is the best, most sensible idea I’ve ever had.’ Marcie kicked off her high heels. ‘You can have them. I won’t be needing them anymore.’ Then she slipped off her jacket and headed out of the kitchen, down the hallway to the spare room she had slept in the night before.

Emily tottered down the hall after her. ‘Marcie, have you gone raving mad? Is this a joke? Because if it is, it’s not actually funny.’ She followed Marcie into the room. ‘You can’t not go. You need this job.’

Marcie unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it, throwing it onto the bed, along with her jacket. Her blouse followed swiftly afterwards.

‘That’s just it,’ she said rummaging in her suitcase and pulling out a tee-shirt and pair of trousers. She ignored Emily’s raised eyebrows as she slipped into her casual clothing. ‘I don’t need this job.’

‘But what about money? It’s Christmas next week. I bet you haven’t even bought any presents yet. I don’t remember seeing any when we packed your stuff away.’

Marcie grinned. ‘Oh, Em, I do love you. In all of this, you’re still thinking about Christmas presents.’

Emily shrugged. ‘I like Christmas. It’s my favourite time of the year.’

‘You’ve been so kind and supportive but this isn’t me anymore,’ said Marcie as she cast her hand in the direction of the discarded suit on the bed. ‘I’ve never felt totally at home in the corporate environment. I’ve always felt unsettled – looking for a cause to champion, bucking against the rules, you know me. I’ve been searching for something else and that something else has turned out to be someone else.’

Emily plonked herself down on the bed. ‘Now I’m totally confused.’

‘I don’t belong in an office attempting to hit a sales target. I don’t want to get sucked back into it. I don’t want to get on that treadmill again. I met someone in France and I walked away because he wouldn’t come with me. He said it wasn’t his world. And he was right. As it turns out, it’s not mine either. I shouldn’t have left him.’

‘Hold it right there,’ said Emily putting up her hand. ‘Let’s just rewind for a moment. You met someone in France and you never told me?’

‘Sorry. I thought if I didn’t talk about him, it would be easier to forget about him,’ said Marcie. ‘Turns out, I was wrong about that too.’

‘Isn’t it all a bit sudden?’ said Emily frowning. ‘You can’t know him that well, not just after a couple of months.’

‘I know him well enough to want to take a chance,’ said Marcie. ‘I don’t want to always wonder what if?’

‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ said Emily looking at Marcie.

‘Deadly.’

‘Sorry to be a bore, but what are you going to do for work and money out there?’

‘Must admit, I haven’t quite worked that one out. Not in any detail, that is,’ said Marcie. ‘I want to do something with my music, maybe teach or music therapy. I might be able to combine it with some sort of humanitarian work. As I say, I haven’t worked out the detail, but that’s the sort of thing I want to do.’

‘And what about this fella?’ said Emily. ‘Jesus, I don’t even know what his name is.’

‘Will,’ provided Marcie. ‘Will Adams.’

‘Does Will Adams feel the same?’

‘I’ll soon find out. I’m going back there. Today.’

Emily shook her head in bewilderment but then smiled fondly. ‘As long as you don’t forget me when you go off-grid in rural France with your very own Bear Grylls.’ She stood up and hugged her friend. ‘You’re one crazy chick.’

‘It might have been said once or twice before,’ said Marcie.

For the second time that week, Marcie boarded the ferry, this time heading out to St Malo. She was driving Ben’s car, having spoken to him on the phone earlier that day and confessed all.

‘I bloody knew it!’ he said. ‘I knew something was going on between you and Will. He’s a dark horse but he’s also a thoroughly decent guy. You’ve done a lot worse in the past.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ said Marcie. ‘I just hope I’ve got this right and don’t end up making a fool of myself.’

‘Only one way to find out,’ said Ben.

And he was right. Marcie would be finding out in roughly sixteen hours. The overnight crossing wasn’t any better than it had been when she had come out to France at the beginning of November. Now with Christmas just a week away, the sea was choppy and the boat rose and dipped its way across the open water. Once again, Marcie was glad to reach the dry land of St Malo.

With each mile the MPV ate up, Marcie became more and more excited, matched equally with nerves. She had only been gone since Friday but it felt like a lifetime ago since she had last seen Will. If there was ever a need for a time travel portal, this was it.

She passed the bridge on the motorway just outside Avranches where her and Will had stopped when he had come to pick her up that first day. Little did she know then, that the grumpy, drum and bass loving, ex-soldier was really hiding a much softer, more compassionate man. Okay, one who still loved drum and bass, but she could live with that.

Finally, she was in Brittany and driving into the Morbihan region, with the village of Lizio frequenting more and more signposts. Another thirty minutes and she would be rolling into the driveway of The Retreat.

Finally, she was there. She could see a trail of smoke rising from the chimney, but other than that, there was no sign of life.

Marcie pulled up on the driveway and switched the engine off, taking a moment to compose herself. This was it.

The front door opened and there was Will, standing in the doorway, looking over at her. His face was expressionless.

Nerves overtook all other emotion. Had she got this wrong? She took a deep breath. Ben had told her there was only one way to find out and she hadn’t come all this way to chicken out at the last moment.

Marcie climbed out of the car and walked over to Will. ‘I was just passing,’ she said with a smile. ‘Thought I’d drop your phone back.’ She held up the mobile.

He took the phone from her and slipped it into his pocket. ‘Thanks. You’d better come in.’

Still she couldn’t read him. Stepping through the doorway and into the kitchen, Marcie immediately noticed Will’s ex-Army Bergen, clearly stuffed full, propped up against the table. Her heart fell. He was moving on without telling her.

She turned to face him. ‘You’re leaving?’

Will nodded. ‘Yeah. I’ve a taxi booked in a couple of hours.’

Marcie didn’t think her heart could fall any further, but somehow it found a new low. ‘Where are you going?’ Her voice wasn’t much more than a croak.

‘England.’

‘You’re going to England? What about Poppy?’ The little dog wagged her tail around Marcie’s legs.

‘I was taking her with me. I took her to the vet’s yesterday.’ He gestured to the blue pet passport sitting alongside his own on the table.

‘What are you going to England for? I thought you wanted to stay here.’

Will came and stood in front of her, his hands cupping the tops of her arms. ‘I was going back for you,’ he said.

‘For me?’ Marcie’s heart lifted.

‘That’s right. I decided I could be anywhere, as long as you were there too.’

Her heart was now soaring high, somewhere in the upper stratosphere. ‘But, I came here for you,’ she said. ‘I’d sooner be here with you than anywhere else.’

‘It seems we have ourselves a dilemma. France or England.’ He pulled a coin from the pocket of his trousers. ‘Shall we flip for it? Heads France. Tails UK.’