Return to the Little French Guesthouse

12

‘You can close your mouths now. You’re catching flies.’ Gloria crossed the kitchen to her husband and pecked him on the cheek. ‘Hello, Rupert. You’re looking well. Not sure about that beard though.’

She turned to me. ‘Emmy.’ It was less a greeting, more a tight-lipped acknowledgement of my existence.

Rupert found speech. ‘Gloria. What the hell are you doing here?’

At the sound of her name, the dog came shooting out of her basket in the hall, but stopped short in the kitchen doorway. Her usual ebullience when greeting people was absent as she stood warily eying her namesake, unwilling to get too close. She was a wise judge of character, that dog.

Gloria almost dropped her handbag, but then recovered herself. ‘I noticed on the website that you’d acquired an animal.’ There was a note of disgust in her voice.

Rupert walked over to the dog and stroked her protectively. ‘This is... Gloria.’

I watched as human Gloria fought her distaste, managing a mask of brittle sweetness and a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

‘And you called her after me. How touching, darling. You must have missed me, to do something as sentimental as that.’

Despite trying to keep his cool, Rupert looked pretty shaken up. He wasn’t the only one. The seconds stretched out, but he made no further remark.

Looked like it was down to me, then. ‘Gloria. To what do we owe the pleasure?’

The dog barked at her name again.

‘Gloria! Hall! Basket!’ Rupert said sternly. For a change, she didn’t need to be told twice. She slunk to her basket, well away from this dislikeable stranger.

‘I came back,’ she declared in answer to my question. Bold as brass.

I thought Rupert might faint. Someone had to take charge here, and quick. The guests would start assembling for dinner soon.

‘It’s quite late, Gloria. We’re about to serve dinner. Where are you staying?’

‘Here, of course.’

I almost choked. ‘I’m sorry, but all the rooms are occupied.’ I thought about the gîtes – one still occupied, one stacked high with furniture and the other bare and ready to be painted. ‘As are the gîtes. We have nowhere to put you up for the night.’

Her lips stretched into an arrogant smile. ‘No need to apologise, Emmy – or to worry about where I’ll sleep. I do have my own quarters here, after all. I’ll get my bags from the car.’ She turned to Rupert. ‘No need to help. I know you have guests to see to.’

She left through the main door in the hall and began ferrying her bags and cases from her car to their private rooms.

Rupert’s eyes were glazed.

‘For God’s sake, Rupert, snap out of it!’ I thought I might have to slap his face like they do in the movies, but I tried a shake of his arm first. ‘Rupert!’

‘Shit!’ he muttered. ‘Shit, shit, shit.’

Not eloquent, but I couldn’t have put it better myself.

‘Go talk to her. Sort it out!’ I hissed.

He finally focused on me. ‘Sort what out? I don’t know what I’m sorting out, do I? I have no idea why...’

But it was too late. Guests began to appear and settle themselves at the table. Rupert took a deep breath, gave me a firm glare and immediately moved into welcoming host mode.

Gloria came through as they took their places. ‘Hello, everyone,’ she said brightly. ‘Nice to meet you all. I’m Gloria, Rupert’s wife. I just got back from a trip to the UK.’

This was greeted by puzzled expressions.

‘Is that a coincidence or deliberate?’ James asked. ‘Two Glorias?’

‘My husband’s mind works in mysterious ways.’ Gloria gave an exaggerated wink. ‘Sorry to rearrange everyone, but would you mind if we set an extra place at the table? I’m starved!’

Everyone politely shuffled around as Rupert brought an extra set of cutlery, a napkin and a chair. At the last minute, he remembered that the dog should be away in his lounge during the meal and went to shut her in.

‘Were you visiting family in the UK, Gloria?’ Betty asked politely as Rupert ferried individual Greek salads to the table.

‘No, I was staying with a friend,’ Gloria replied smoothly.

Not one iota of discomfort! That woman had the gall of... I don’t know what. I wasn’t sure there was a living creature on the planet with the nerve that she had.

As the meal proceeded, I felt more and more distanced from the conversation, as though it were taking place underwater. The sick feeling I’d had earlier was getting worse, and my head was pounding. I forced myself to eat something, but I had no idea what it was. I took little notice of who said what. I remember glancing across at Rupert every so often, an inner voice reaching through the murk and telling me to check that he was okay. He seemed it – or at least he was putting on a good front.

By the time dessert was over, my headache had improved a little, but as the pain slowly receded, my indignation and panic at Gloria’s return came back to the fore.

When he’d made coffees, Rupert excused himself and went off to his room, ostensibly for the loo. Two minutes later, I used the same excuse, half closing the kitchen door behind me and letting myself into his private lounge, where I petted the dog, waiting until Rupert came out of the bathroom.

He jumped a mile. ‘Emmy! Don’t do that! I have heart problems, remember?’

‘Sorry. Needs must.’

‘What’s up?’

‘What’s up? You really need to ask?’

‘Besides the fact that my supposed soon-to-be-ex-wife has made an unexpected return.’

‘And is brazenly passing herself off as your happily married wife. How dare she?’

‘Emmy, you and I both know that Gloria may be many things, but short of brazenness is not one of them. Did you honestly expect me to put the record straight with all my guests? Tell them she ran off with someone weeks ago and I haven’t seen hide nor hair of her since? I’m sure that would have made everyone feel most comfortable and relaxed.’ He gave me a glare. ‘My guests come first.’

‘And what about you? What about your comfort and stress levels?’

‘They might have to take a back seat while I find out why she’s here and what she wants. But this evening is not the appropriate time for that.’

‘But where will she sleep?’

‘I’ve offered to book her into a hotel, Emmy, but she won’t have it.’ He gestured to the open bedroom doorway. ‘She’s already dumped her bags in there. And since, as you bravely pointed out to her, every single room and gîte is either occupied or unusable, I don’t see where else she can go.’

‘You know she probably timed all this deliberately, don’t you? Arriving on a Saturday evening, when there’s always a guest meal, knowing you’d be up to your eyes cooking and entertaining with a houseful of people, so you couldn’t make a fuss. She also knew there was every likelihood we’d be full.’

‘I’m sure you’re right. It doesn’t alter the facts, though, does it?

‘You could make her sleep on the sofa.’

‘I’m sure that would work. About as well as trying to get a tiger to roll over so you can tickle its belly.’ He scratched his neck. ‘But I suppose I could sleep on the sofa. I’d use one of the gîtes if we had one that was habitable.’ He glared at me.

I opened my mouth to object, then closed it again. We were looking at a stark choice here. Better that Rupert should spend an uncomfortable night on the sofa than in bed with that viperous wife of his, using her wiles for goodness knew what. I shuddered at the thought of what she might resort to.

‘Yes. Definitely. I think you should.’ I gave him a firm look. ‘Promise me?’

He squeezed my hand. ‘I promise, Emmy. And I appreciate your concern.’

‘What’s going on?’ Gloria appeared in the doorway. ‘You’ve been gone ages, Rupert. I thought you must have drowned yourself in the toilet.’ Her eyes narrowed as Rupert dropped my hand. ‘Getting a little friendly nowadays, you two, aren’t you?’

My hand itched so hard to slap her. Instead, I walked away... with my open palms clamped hard against my thighs as I passed.

I couldn’t say I slept well that night. Thoughts of Gloria trying to wheedle her way back into Rupert’s affections after all she’d put him through tormented me, making my blood boil.

I’d always been a firm believer in not meddling in other people’s affairs, but I thought I might make an exception in this case. I felt as protective of Rupert as I would my own father, and I would not stand by and watch that woman stomp all over his heart the way she had last time. I’d so desperately wanted to phone Alain, but it was after midnight before I got the chance, and I didn’t see the point of us both losing sleep.

Gloria came into the kitchen as I was getting breakfast together. ‘Where’s Rupert?’

‘Good morning to you, too.’

The way she narrowed her eyes made her look like a cobra ready to strike, and it occurred to me that if she was back for good, I ought to be a tad more polite... although in that case, it wouldn’t matter, because my employment would rapidly be terminated – if not through Gloria’s insistence, then because I wouldn’t be able to stomach it.

For now, I hedged my bets and gave her a small smile. ‘He’s walking the dog.’

She wrinkled her nose as she set to at the coffee machine. ‘I can’t imagine why he thought it was a good idea to get a dog.’

Because he needs companionship. Because he needs someone to love him the way he deserves to be loved.

‘He said he’s always wanted one.’ But you would never let him.

‘Yes, well, we don’t always get what we want, do we?’ Sipping at her coffee – she hadn’t offered me one – she stared me down. She was good at that, but I’d learned not to be intimidated by it. ‘You got your feet under the table pretty quickly, didn’t you, Emmy? And I noticed I’ve been removed from the website.’

She’d spotted that, had she? Good. ‘Rupert didn’t want to mislead the guests.’

‘But you’re on there now. Described as a manager, no less.’

‘That’s my role.’

‘Manager? Is that what you call it, helping that old witch Dupont to clean? Feeding the chickens? You’re getting ideas above your station, aren’t you?’

‘There’s far more than that to running this place, as you’d well know if you’d ever bothered. Rupert wants to move forward and make changes. I’m here to do whatever I can to help him.’

‘Hmm. Talking of which, my husband assures me that you haven’t been... helpful in other departments. I presume your story’s the same?’

Part of me longed to tell her that Rupert and I had been swinging from the chandeliers for weeks. That we’d enjoyed wild sex in every corner of the house and garden. But I would tell her the truth, for Rupert’s sake.

‘Yes, my story’s the same.’ This conversation – or battle of wills – was exhausting after so little sleep. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.’

Whatever poisonous retort she’d been dreaming up thankfully remained unspoken, as guests appeared for breakfast. Gloria joined them, making polite conversation, while I took requests for anything cooked and prayed that Rupert would be back soon to deal with them. Where the hell had he got to?

When he arrived, the dog slunk straight to her basket without having to be told, and he hobbled over to the oven.

‘Is your leg playing up again?’

‘Not my leg. My back,’ he hissed. ‘Bloody sofa. Bloody uncomfortable.’

After breakfast, Gloria insisted that Rupert join her for a drive and a coffee in a nearby village. ‘Away from this place. A bit of privacy wouldn’t go amiss.’ They set off in her sports car, and I did my best not to think about what ploys and wiles and arguments she might try out on the poor bastard.

Taking my coffee outside, with the dog trotting along, I smiled at Jess and Steve on the patio, then heard the whine of a motor. Glancing back to the courtyard, I saw Ryan’s car was there, so I made another espresso for him and followed the noise, the dog at my heels.

He was trimming the tall hedge right around the side of the house that separated the orchard from the road. My companion immediately flopped in a shady corner to watch him work.

Not wanting to make him jump and chop his own arm off, I waited until he spotted me and turned it off.

‘Emmy. Hi. Is that for me?’ He took the coffee and smiled his thanks, then registered my expression. ‘What’s up?’

‘I’d drink your coffee first, if I were you. You’re going to need it.’

‘What is it?’ But he took me at my word and had a sip.

‘Gloria’s back. She turned up last night.’

‘She what?’ His face was a picture. ‘What the... ?’

‘Yeah, yeah. Been there, done that.’

‘But when you say she’s back, do you mean she’s back back? As in, back for good?’

‘She’d like to be. But ultimately it’s down to Rupert, isn’t it?’

Ryan wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. ‘I hope he’s not stupid enough to be persuaded.’

‘Me too.’

There was nothing more to be said. I turned and called for the dog to follow, but she seemed reluctant to move from her shady spot.

‘Leave her with me,’ Ryan suggested.

Back at the house, I took the bedlinen that Rupert had washed down to the bottom of the garden to peg it out, then stuffed another load in the machine. That done, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to put Alain in the picture.

‘Hi. Am I still seeing you this afternoon?’ he asked.

‘Yes, but I need to tell you something. Gloria’s back.’

I heard a sharp intake of breath. ‘When?’

‘Last night. It’s a long story. I’ll fill you in when I come round.’

‘Where is she staying?’

‘She’s installed with Rupert. He slept on the sofa. Nowhere else he could go.’

There was a silence as he absorbed the news. ‘You need to get away from there sooner, if you ask me. I had an idea for today, so wear shorts and trainers, okay?’

I didn’t need telling twice. ‘Okay. But I need to catch Rupert on his own first. I want to talk to him.’

‘I bet you do.’

Rupert found me before I could look for him. I was sitting on a bench halfway down the garden, nervously twiddling my thumbs. The dog had deserted Ryan and come to keep me company, after all.

‘Hi. I’m going to Alain’s soon, if that’s okay?’

‘Of course. It is Sunday.’

I eyed him carefully, trying to gauge his mood. ‘Where’s your coffee companion?’ The last thing I needed was the enemy bursting in on us.

‘Unpacking. Why?’

‘I was hoping to talk to you.’

He let out a resigned sigh, lowered himself onto the grass and stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his elbows with the dog’s head in his lap. His leaner frame suited him. Not that he’d looked seriously overweight before, being broad with it, but it made a difference. And his experimental beard had settled into a close-cut, grizzled grey that lent him a charismatic quality, with his silver hair slightly overlong and wavy.

‘You’re looking good, Rupert, now you’ve lost weight. Much healthier. And I like the beard.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Has your wife said any more about it?’

‘Not yet. I’m sure she will. She thinks I should get my hair cut.’

‘Don’t. It goes with the beard. Kind of bohemian.’

He smiled, then shot me a warning glare. ‘If you’re planning on interrogating me about Gloria’s return, Emmy, I’d rather you didn’t.’

Upon hearing her name, the dog’s ears pricked up and she gave a little yap.

‘Why did you have to call her Gloria?’ I lamented. ‘That poor animal is going to get so confused, now the original Gloria’s here.’

I refrained from adding that if Rupert did resurrect his marriage, he would have to rename either his dog or his wife, and I wasn’t sure which would be more easily trained.

He stroked the dog’s ears. ‘Then she’ll have to be confused for a while. She won’t be the only one.’

‘Rupert, I’m worried about you.’

‘Well, then, that makes two of us.’

We sat in silence for a moment or two. I wanted to respect his wish not to be interrogated, but surely it was better for him to talk.

‘How did Gloria take you sleeping on the sofa?’

He swatted at an overly friendly wasp. ‘Badly. She tried to... persuade me to change my mind. But you’ll be pleased to know that I resisted.’

‘Good for you.’

He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t difficult. I only had to think about her rolling around with Nathan and the two of them running off together. Hardly an aphrodisiac.’

‘She hasn’t said what went wrong between them, then?’

‘Hasn’t said, and I haven’t asked.’

I nodded, studying his face for any sign of how much I should ask and how much he might want to talk. ‘How do you feel about her coming back? Were you... pleased to see her?’

He became quite animated. ‘Pleased? No. I’m angry that she turned up out of the blue like that. But I understand why. If she’d got in touch – if she’d asked – I’d have told her where to go.’

Sensing his change of mood, the dog transferred her allegiance – or her chin, anyway – to my lap.

‘Do you know how long she intends to stay?’ I ventured.

‘Until we’ve discussed everything, I suppose.’

Well. That told me far more than he intended. The fact that he was willing to discuss things with Gloria for as long as it took to come to a decision... It meant he wasn’t ruling out the idea of them getting back together. I couldn’t deny that I was shocked by that, but I kept my expression neutral.

‘Can you... Can you envisage a future together?’

‘I don’t know.’ He scrubbed a hand across his face, then looked away, fixing his gaze on a bee buzzing busily around a bright yellow bloom. ‘Dare I ask if you have any thoughts on this?’

‘Ha! I have a great many thoughts, and you know full well that most of them are unrepeatable, but I have no intention of voicing them. What I think, what your friends might think, none of that matters. What matters is how you feel about Gloria. What you want. Everyone else will fall in with it.’

He pulled at the grass by his side. ‘I’m scared,’ he murmured.

I tried hard to hide my shock. ‘Scared? Why?’

‘By wanting to reconcile, Gloria’s asking me to make a far bigger choice than she realises. It’s not all about whether I take her back or not.’ He gave a wry shake of his head. ‘Although there’s the unspoken suggestion that if I don’t, she’ll take me for every penny she can squeeze out of me. But she’s asking so much more of me than that.’

‘In what way?’

He looked me in the eye. ‘I know my friends believe I’d be better off without her. So what she’s asking me to do, effectively, is to distance myself from people I’m close to, people whose company I enjoy.’

I frowned. ‘I guess you’re probably right. I don’t see what would be in it for her, to come back to a bunch of people she doesn’t like and who don’t like her.’

Rupert smiled sadly, glancing around the garden at his hard-won domain. ‘No doubt things would get so awkward that she would persuade me to sell up and move on. Start afresh, with a new set of friends that suit her better.’

The idea that Rupert might give up this place that he loved so much shocked me far more than the idea of him taking Gloria back. ‘Would you do that?’

‘I think I’d have to accept that if I decide to make a go of it with Gloria, it would be the likely outcome.’ He gave me a direct look. ‘It would leave you high and dry, Emmy, which would be a disgrace, after I persuaded you to come out here.’

I swallowed down panic. ‘Your happiness matters more to me than that. I do not want you basing your decision on my job. It might take months before you decide to sell, and months again to actually do it.’ I didn’t add that I knew damned well that Gloria would have me out on my ear the minute Rupert agreed to take her back.

Sensing our melancholy, the dog shifted and whined. We both looked at her, and a new horror dawned on me.

‘What about...’

Rupert reached out to stroke her with sad affection. ‘She would have to go. Gloria hates her.’

I took a long minute to decide how much to say. ‘It seems to me that Gloria’s asking you to give up an awfully long list of things you love, for just the one thing – her – in return.’

‘But she’s not asking me to give anything up, is she? Not yet. All this is just me jumping ahead to the inevitable outcome.’

‘Then I suppose you need to decide if you still love her, and if so, how much you love her and how much you’re willing to give up to be with her. Whether you can forgive her for what she did with Nathan. Whether you’ll be able to forgive her in the future for all the compromises she’ll expect you to make, or whether you’ll end up holding it all against her.’

‘Is that all? My head may explode!’

Good job I hadn’t asked him the thing that was at the forefront of my mind then: did he trust her not to run off again, once she’d made him give everything up to be with her?

I shifted the dog’s head from my lap, stood, and popped a kiss on his cheek. ‘There’s no rush, Rupert. Gloria’s not going anywhere, more’s the pity. Take as long as you need.’