Page 25 of A French Inheritance

Standing in the house that was feeling emptier by the day, Jeannie was suddenly swamped with unexpected doubts about leaving.

Was she really doing the right thing moving to France, even though it was what she’d often dreamed of doing of down the years?

She’d lived in this house for nearly thirty years and it had been a lovely family home for all those years.

It was hard to envisage walking out of it to begin a new life, albeit in a country and cottage she’d grown to love.

But nothing in life stayed the same forever.

Briony had moved out, Jeromé had died, Giselle had moved in a few years later and now she was gone too.

After Briony had grown up and flown the nest, she and Jeromé had enjoyed being just a couple again until his unexpected early death in his fifties when the house had seemed so, so empty.

Those early years after he’d passed had been lonely as she’d struggled to come to terms with being a single middle-aged woman.

Having Giselle move in with her for what turned out to be her final year and a half had been a turning point – she’d felt needed again and there was a purpose to her life.

And now there was this new life in France planned for her and Briony.

Jeannie couldn’t kid herself that her purpose there would be to look after her daughter.

To help maybe, but it was only fair that from the beginning they led independent lives whilst sharing a home.

Had their own interests, their own friends.

Hopefully, Briony would meet a new man too, someone who would treat her properly, love her and they would have a family together before it was too late.

As for the new unexpected complication in her own life, maybe the best thing would be to walk away from getting involved.

But Jeannie wasn’t sure that she could do that.

The chance for her to be part of a couple again was too tempting not to at least see if there was a possibility of reigniting certain feelings that had by necessity been smothered and un-acted on in the past.

Jeannie sighed. So many people seemed to reinvent themselves, find new partners and become happier when they shook off their old lives and started anew.

But what if it didn’t work out for her? What would she do then?

She’d pick herself up and dust herself down like she had done countless times in the past when life had thrown a curveball.

Briony and she were as close as any other mother and daughter she knew.

Living in France was going to be good for them both.

The mobile in her pocket rang at that moment. She glanced at Caller ID. Yann.

Smiling, she pressed the button and accepted the call. After all, if you don’t take a chance, nothing changes.

* * *

With all the unwanted ornaments and knick-knacks boxed up, after a late breakfast eaten on the terrace, Briony decided to start on the kitchen cupboards.

She took the last box from the garden shed and emptied the cupboards under the work surface.

Lots of terracotta dairy bowls of various sizes, wonderful for salads and fruit, glass bowls, cooking trays, cake tins and crockery.

Briony pulled the Kenwood mixer out, that was definitely staying, and she placed it on the counter.

The box filled, she grabbed the garage key off the hook in the corner of the kitchen where it lived. Maybe she’d find some empty boxes in there.

Pushing the key into the lock and pulling the wooden door open, Briony braced herself for what she’d find.

Her mum hadn’t exaggerated. Old-fashioned bicycles were hanging on the wall, including one that Briony remembered riding into the village years ago.

There was even an old wooden handcart hooked over two large brackets in the far corner, as well as galvanised water buckets, a tin bath, several dog baskets, garden implements and a large parrot cage.

How old was that? Briony couldn’t remember ever seeing or hearing about a parrot being in the cottage.

What on earth was she going to do with all this stuff? Not to mention everything from the house that she was packing up. Clearing the cottage was turning into a nightmare project.

Turning to leave, she saw some empty boxes thrown into the corner nearest the door. She might as well take them and carry on clearing the kitchen of unwanted dishes.

By midday she’d run out of boxes and also energy.

She planned to have a hot reviving shower followed by lunch and a few relaxing hours in the garden reading, with maybe a walk down to the lake later.

She needed to get into a routine of walking so that when she eventually had a dog it would be second nature to go for two walks a day.

It was a gorgeous evening when she opened the field gate and set off. The sky was still blue, although the sun was beginning its descent; the air was balmy and a perfect temperature for a walk.

Reaching the lake, Briony stopped and listened.

The cicadas in the trees were extra noisy this evening and there was the usual crowd of robins, chaffinches, tits and sparrows flying back and forth between the nearby trees and shrubs.

Briony walked out along the wooden jetty and stood looking over the lake and at the rowing boat moored alongside.

Giving in to a sudden urge, she stepped slowly and carefully into the boat and sat on the central wooden plank.

Tonight there were several ducks on the water in the middle of the lake and she watched them bobbing around for a while.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was starting to feel more and more that the decision to move here had been the right one. Her mum would be back soon and together they could sort the cottage and garden out. Working with Lucy for the summer was going to be fun and…

Suddenly there was the noise of a huge splash and the boat rocked. Startled, Briony instinctively put a hand out and grabbed the side of the boat as she opened her eyes. Luna was in the water swimming, whilst Elliot stood to one side looking embarrassed.

‘Sorry if Luna startled you.’

‘No worries. At least she didn’t try to join me in the boat,’ Briony said, laughing.

‘I love seeing her, but we must stop meeting like this. Two days in a row people will start talking.’ Oh dear, the look on his face told her he was not amused by her comment.

Quickly, she changed the subject. ‘No sign of a dog for me yet?’

Elliot shook his head. ‘No, sorry.’

Carefully, Briony stood up, accepted the hand Elliot held out to help her and stepped back onto the jetty. ‘I’d better get back. I’ll leave you to enjoy the peace and quiet.’

‘Please don’t let me chase you away,’ Elliot said.

‘You’re not. I’ve had a busy day, so an early night is on the cards.’

‘Goodnight then.’

‘Night.’

With an inward sigh, Briony turned away to walk home. What was it about Elliot that got under her skin? Or, to put it another way, why had there been an unexpected frisson through her body when she’d taken his hand?