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Becky revved the engine of the soft-topped MG and she and Amber looked at each other. The day was warm, the top was rolled back and Amber had even put on sunglasses and a headscarf. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘This is all very Bridget Jones.’

They looked at each other and started to giggle. ‘Can you actually believe we’re doing this?’

‘I know.’

After Becky had bought the car on a second-hand selling site five days ago, they’d mapped out a slow route through France, staying at B perhaps a new eau de toilette. ‘Just thought I’d pop in on my way back to Vaudrelle.’

There was an awkward silence, none of them quite knowing what to say.

In the end, it was Becky who broke it. ‘So, Georges, what’s all this?

Are you writing a book or something?’ She’d already seen enough of the layout on the paper to see that it was a legal document, but feigning ignorance made it easier to ask the question.

‘This?’ Georges flushed slightly and lifted the hand holding the papers as if he’d quite forgotten they were there. ‘Oh, it is nothing.’

Maud looked at him. ‘I don’t think it needs to be a secret, Georges?’

Georges smiled awkwardly. ‘Perhaps not.’

Maud looked at Becky. ‘Georges here would like to buy the café for the commune ,’ she said. ‘He wanted to see what I thought first, before contacting you.’

‘Yes, forgive me.’ Georges made a little bow. ‘I did not realise you were going to come back.’

‘Well, I did. So, I guess that’s your answer!’ Becky looked at the papers pointedly.

‘ Oui , I suppose. But I would like to speak to you, in any case.’ He glanced at Maud who nodded.

‘I want you to think carefully. Because it is wonderful that you want to take on Maud’s legacy. My worry is that you are new here. You do not speak very much French. And perhaps you have already come to love Vaudrelle, but you do not know the place. You do not know what people need, maybe.’

‘Pascal has already…’

‘But Pascal is leaving, soon, non ? His future is also not in the café.’

‘Well, he’s going to be back. True, he won’t be working there any more, but?—’

‘And so you will be alone, perhaps with your English friend,’ he nodded at Amber. ‘But I worry that this will not work. That you will change your mind again and the village will suffer.’

Maud was looking at Becky. ‘What do you think? I mean, I’m thrilled you want to run the place. But is it truly what you want? Because if it isn’t, this is a chance to… make another choice.’

‘I—’ Becky began.

‘With Maud,’ Georges interrupted, ‘she came to the village and knew nobody. And I am not sure of her level of French.’

‘Awful,’ Maud interjected.

Georges smiled. ‘OK, so she too had the awful French,’ he said. ‘And I think the local people, when she opened the café, were not sure about it. But she since spent so many years here. And now people see her as part of the community. But it took a long time.’

Becky nodded. ‘I understand, but I am hoping that won’t be an issue,’ she said. ‘I’m going to get lessons, work hard. But there’s something else.’ She moved forward and crouched in front of Maud. ‘Maud,’ she said, ‘the reason that I’m here is to ask you a question.’

Maud sat forward slightly. ‘Do stand up though, won’t you? My legs are aching just looking at you in that position.’

Becky laughed, moved her legs so that she was kneeling, which was admittedly slightly more comfortable. ‘Maud,’ she said. ‘I want to look after the café. But I also want to look after you .’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Come back,’ she said. ‘We can make adjustments to the living space. We can convert the sitting room into a room for you, downstairs – I’ve got a little money saved and we can get a loan if we need to. We can hire some help, and Amber and I, we can help too.’

‘But—’

‘You said yourself that there’s nothing wrong with your mind.

And that’s completely obvious,’ Becky continued.

‘And you were right, perhaps you are no longer well enough to run the café. But with the right support, you could live there, be there. Still be a part of it. And spend time with me too. We’ve lost more than twenty years. I don’t want to lose any more.’

‘Oh,’ Georges said into the silence. ‘But that would be wonderful—’ Maud held up a finger and he stopped talking.

‘My dear girl,’ she said. ‘What a wonderful offer. But I’m… things are not easy for me. I do need an embarrassing amount of help.’

‘I know. And it’s OK. I want to do it. We can get someone to help. But Maud, you belong in the café. That’s what made it what it is. Not the decor, nor the fact that you can speak French. It’s you .’

Maud’s eyes filled. ‘Oh Becky. That is such a kind offer. It really is. But I can’t let you do that. You’re young, you ought to be free. You don’t want to be encumbered with an old woman like me.’

‘I won’t be encumbered, Maud! If anything, you will.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean,’ she said, leaning and lightly brushing a tear from Maud’s cheek, ‘I’m going to do my best to fill your shoes, but I can’t do it without your help.’

‘Really?’ said Maud. ‘You really need me?’

‘Come home,’ Becky said. ‘Come home, Maud. Please.’