French Kisses (12 page)

Chapter 18: Christmas Day

Before setting off from Devon, Connie and Harold had packed the campervan with gifts and an array of goodies, including the makings of an entire English Christmas dinner. In the morning everything was transferred from the van to Rachel’s kitchen. Among the ingredients were sprouts, which her children had only ever encountered French style, ie. boiled to oblivion and then canned.

They were recreating the entire English experience by starting the day with mince pies, sherry and a brisk walk, despite the freezing weather.

By mid-afternoon, candles were lit, the dining room was draped in tinsel and everyone’s thoughts were turning towards turkey with Paxo stuffing when the Ukrainians arrived. Irina had said that she might drop by with the cousins for a drink, but Rachel had not expected them to sweep into the house with vodka and bear hugs all round.

After
the introductions had been made, Irina – dressed in a figure-hugging white dress and silver ankle boots – ceremoniously presented Rachel with an enormous cooked carp, while Alexei and Gregor dished out bottles of wine and chocolates to Harold and Connie, as well as gifts for the children that included a rather lurid T-shirt for Alice – which she adored – and a football decorated in City Kiev colours for Charlie.

Having
patted their stomachs and declined the offer of lunch, Irina and the cousins squeezed themselves into gaps around the table and joined them for the champagne, vodka, smoked salmon and blinis that now began the meal. This was accompanied by lots of toasts, laughter and back-slapping.

Rachel had already prepared a beef Bourguinon for their lunch, so that went on the table as well as the turkey. To finish, there was fruit and a French chocolate log, but the
pièce de resistance was Harold’s Christmas cake, which was decorated with lots of icing swept into extravagant snow drifts.

As Rachel was distributing slices of cake at
the end of the meal, Gregor began to sing in a warm, deep voice.

Irina
sat humming to herself, swaying gently in time to the music.

“
What is he singing about?” whispered Rachel.

“
Ah, it is a very sad song, Madame,” Irina looked suitably mournful despite the paper hat on her head. “It is about a man with an unhappy wife who goes fishing and sees a very large fish.”

“
Biggest fish in the Dnieper River,” added Alexei.

Charlie, who had done some fishing with his father, perked up at this
. “Does he catch it?”

“
He follows it many times, but each time it swims further and further away, and the wife – she gets sadder and sadder.”

Rachel
nodded and tried to look serious.

“
But shouldn’t finding a big fish make the fisherman happy?” asked Connie, who had taken rather a shine to Gregor with his soulful baritone.

Alexei
shook his head vigorously. “No, Mrs Connie. The fisherman tries and tries, but the fish escapes and is caught by another man from the village.”

Irina
put a finger to her lips, shushing them as Gregor arrived at the climax of the song, which ended with him clasping his hands to his chest and letting out what could only be described as a groan.

By
this time they were all quite gripped by the tragic story that was unfolding and applauded enthusiastically.

When silence had fallen,
Harold lent over to Alexei. “So how does it end, old chap?”

He
shrugged his shoulders mournfully then winked at Gregor who flashed them a grin. “Then the unhappy wife leaves her husband for the neighbour who has the big carp and the poor fisherman is a free man once more. Happy ending!”

After
another burst of applause and shouts of ‘bravo!’ Gregor stood and raised his glass in a toast to Rachel’s hospitality.

“
And now,” he said, addressing Harold, “You sing us beautiful English song, yes?”

“
Well, goodness me,” said Harold, looking bashful. “I really don’t think that my ancient voice is any match for yours.” He turned to his companion and squeezed her arm. “Connie’s the singer here.”

“
Nonsense! You’ve got a lovely voice, darling,” she said, pinching his cheek and chuckling.

Harold
gave her a kiss on the lips as Charlie and Alice made pretend-vomiting faces behind their backs.

“
Sorry, Gregor. English people don’t sing in public,” Rachel explained.

“
Well, we do, but only when we’ve had too much to drink,” added Harold with a twinkle.

Irina
raised an eyebrow at Alexei who passed the vodka down the table.

Rachel
held up her hands in mock alarm. “I think today counts as having too much.”

“
I know a very good English song,” said Alexei, getting to his feet and launching into ‘Waltzing Matilda’. Everyone joined in then Harold started them off on ‘On Ilkley Moor Bar T’at’ and Connie led them through the alto part of Handel’s Hallelujah chorus with everyone singing along as best they could. The grand finale was a medley from Grease, which even Alice joined in with.

After that, the adults staggered into the sitting room and collapsed on chairs and sofas while the kids studied their gifts. While it was quiet Rachel decided to get some air and check on the animals.

When she came back into the house after shutting up the chickens – and tipsily apologising to them for eating the turkey – she found a scene of post-prandial bliss. Everyone had made themselves comfortable in front of the fire and the Ukrainians were chomping their way through the candied fruits, Brazil nuts and After Eights. Charlie was in a corner playing a computer game with Irina; Harold and Gregor were involved in a very intense game of chess; Connie was dozing in an armchair and snoring gently. Alice was curled up on the sofa listening to music and texting her friends.

Rachel
decided that tea was needed and went into the kitchen where she was pleased to see that her guests had made a start at clearing up while she was out. Listening to the low murmur of conversation in the next room she smiled to herself, feeling squiffy but quite content. As she waited for the kettle to boil she fed the cats, adding morsels of turkey to their biscuits and making them purr with delight.

“
Have you had a nice Christmas, too, pusskins?” she asked, as they concentrated on the contents of their bowls.

“
Everyone has had a very nice Christmas, thanks to you Rachel.”

She
turned to see Alexei leaning against the doorframe, grinning at her. With his one gold tooth and dark wavy hair, he looked like he should be on a pirate ship. I’ve had too much to drink, she thought. He was gorgeous and he filled the new ‘100% local and available’ criteria, but life was already too complicated. And she had a feeling that Irina would not approve.

Right
on cue, Irina came in with Charlie.

“
Mum, Irina cheats,” he grumbled.

Irina grabbed him and ruffled his hair
. “Is not cheating. Is all about learning, remembering and being smart.”

Alexei
went over and stood by Charlie’s side. “You never beat Irina. She is too clever here,” he said, tapping the side of his head. “But she cannot play good football like you.”

Charlie
grinned. “Can we have a game?”

“
Not now, love. It’s pitch black outside,” said Rachel peering out into the gloom.

Alexei
shrugged. “So, we put on the lights.”

“
Yeh! Can we Mum?”

“
If you’re mad enough, that’s fine by me.”

“
You play too, Rachel,” said Alexei, taking her hand as Charlie ran off to fetch his brand-new ball and choose his team-mates.

So
that’s how Christmas Day ended: three Ukrainians, two loved-up pensioners, Rachel and her children playing football in the moonlight with extra illumination provided by the Ukrainians’ truck. Rachel and Irina acted as goalies with the teams split: Charlie, Alexei and Harold versus Alice, Connie and Gregor. No one was quite sure what the final score was, but everyone agreed that it was the best Christmas Day they’d had for a very long time.

Chapter 19: New Year’s Eve

After Christmas, Harold and Connie had been persuaded to stay for a little while longer, but Rachel could see they were restless. After a couple of days, they packed up the campervan and prepared to head back north.

Harold was raring to do. “
We fancy seeing in the New Year from the Eiffel Tower you see, love.”

Rachel smiled. “Okay, Dad. But take your time and drive safely.”

“I will sweet pea, don’t you worry.”

“We’ve had such a lovely time,” said Connie, giving Rachel and the children hugs. “Do come and see us in the spring, won’t you? I’ve already invited Irina and the boys.”

Rachel waved and the children ran after the van as it creaked down the drive. “See you next year!” Now all she had to sort out was entertainment for New Year’s Eve.

* * *

In France, New Year’s Eve was a much bigger deal than Christmas although – being Brits – Rachel and Michael had always celebrated both. This year her friends were all having family dinners or romantic evenings at home. She was invited, of course, but wanted to do something fun with the kids.

Charlie
claimed not to care what he did to celebrate Saint-Sylvestre, but Rachel knew that all of Alice’s friends were doing something exciting and she didn’t want to let her children down. So when Madame Lambert told her that there was going to be a shindig at the community hall, she said they would all love to go. There was going to be lots to eat and drink, fireworks at midnight and a band had been booked to play traditional music. It promised to be fun and presented the perfect opportunity for Rachel to wear the red velvet dress that Alice had frowned upon all those weeks before.

When Rachel turned up at the hall with the children, she saw plenty of familiar faces as well as new people who had come to live in Pelette during the year.

Looking around the room with its long tables laden with food, she felt as though she had slipped into a festive country scene by Pieter Bruegel. Monsieur Seurat was there in his best suit, his collar and tie painfully tight at the neck until his wife turned her back and he pulled them loose. Claude was wearing a rather natty pair of red trousers and tartan waistcoat. Monsieur Bertrand had brought Fifi, who was specially dressed for the occasion with a gold ribbon around her neck.

The
wives were also in their finery, which largely involved lots of black and diamanté. The children ran around the room, getting hyper on cola, impatient for the firework display to begin.

At 9pm, the taped music was turned off and th
e chairs were pushed back against the walls to make more space for the musicians who included an accordionist as well as people playing bagpipes, violins, guitars and a flute. The band struck up a traditional tune and people rose to their feet and grabbed partners. Alice and Charlie had been taught French country dancing by their unofficial step-mum Amelie, and Rachel had picked up a few steps over the years as she and Michael had been drawn into village life.

Rachel
was hoping to sit out the first couple of dances, but Claude had other ideas and she was soon whirling around the room in a vigorous jig. Alice danced with boys from the village and Charlie tried to hide but was swept up by Madame Seurat. It is a feature of folk music around the world that the tunes last a very long time, and Rachel was pooped after two dances and had to excuse herself and return to her champagne.

Retreating
to a chair in a corner near the grannies, she watched the dancers form a circle then snake around the room, hand in hand. She was struck by how graceful her daughter was and how tall Charlie seemed to have become in the last couple of months.

She
clapped enthusiastically as the dance ended, the line broke up and everyone separated – some standing eagerly awaiting the next number, others panting and reaching for their glasses of beer or water.

Revellers
were coming and going through the heavy oak doors of the building. It was a clear night with a full moon and the kids were dashing in and out, checking on preparations for the show.

Rachel
was chatting to Madame Lambert about the guest house and didn’t notice Paul Callot enter the room until he was standing right in front of her. His face broke into a smile as he bowed and extended his hand. “Would you care to dance, Madame?”

Before
she could answer or ask him what on earth he was doing there, he had grabbed her by both hands and pulled her to her feet as the band struck up a lively
bourrée
. As they joined the group dancing forwards and back, swirling and stamping, she didn’t have the breath to speak.

Paul
was a good dancer, light on his feet and vigorous. Rachel enjoyed herself although she was also perplexed by his sudden appearance. At the end of the dance, Paul took her hand and led her to a quiet corner.

Rachel was desperate to touch him, but she wanted to clear up a few things first. “
What are you doing in Pelette? I thought you were gone for good.”

Paul
smiled. “So did I, Rachel. I wasn’t lying to you when I said I wouldn’t be coming back.”

“
So what has changed?”

He looked pensive for a moment. “
Meeting you and seeing how you were embarking on a new life made me think seriously about my own situation.”

“
Really?”

“
Yes, really.” A look of sadness passed across his face. “I’ve realised that Paris has nothing to offer me anymore. My marriage is over so the city has only bad memories for me. Unlike here.” He lightly caressed Rachel’s cheek, making her catch her breath.

She took his hand away, but held it on her lap. “
I still don’t understand, Paul.” Was he saying that he was coming back because of her?

He leant back in his chair. “
Before coming to Dreste, I thought that I might move north, perhaps to St Malo where my mother lives.” He smiled, squeezing both of her hands in his. “But since leaving here I’ve had time to think and I’ve made a decision.”

He
looked at her, serious for a moment. “While my uncle was resting his shoulder at home, he discovered that he really liked the idea of being retired. So, after I left, he called me in Paris to ask if I’d like to take over his picture-framing business. He can still make frames now and again, but he won’t have the burden of running a shop.”

Paul
’s eyes had lit up with excitement and he had a big grin on his face. “It won’t happen for a while yet, because I have to find someone to take over the shop in Paris, but I’ve decided that that is what I’m going to do: I’m coming to Dreste.”

Rachel
was quiet. Paul looked at her, his face questioning. “I hoped that you might be pleased, but I can see that you’re not.”

“
I don’t know what to think.” Knowing now that Paul had planned to come back, Rachel was offended that he hadn’t called to speak to her about it. “I’m just surprised that you haven’t been in touch at all since . . .” Rachel looked around and saw some of her neighbours smiling across at her. “Since, you know what,” she whispered.

Paul
squeezed her hands again, looking serious. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure about my decision. And I wanted to be sure that I was coming back for the right reasons.”

“
You mean, for business reasons?”

“
Purely business, of course!” The musicians had finished their break and had struck up another lively tune. “Let’s dance. There’ll be plenty of time to talk later.”

She took his hand and they danced again, then swopped partners and danced with her children.

All of the kids were keeping a keen eye on the clock. “Mum, it’s nearly midnight,” said Charlie, rushing outside. Rachel grabbed their coats, hats and scarves and went out to join the group.

She smiled as Paul took her hand and they stood hand-in-hand, counting down the minutes to midnight. As the church bells rang out and the fireworks blasted off they kissed and hugged each other tightly, until they were pulled apart and embraced by Rachel’s children, her friends and neighbours and everyone else who was there to celebrate the sheer joy of welcoming in a brand new year.