the house. Madeleine needed the phone number of the company the football club employed to deal with matters like that. He just couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth. What good would it do to know her face was in the newspapers? That people were speculating over her identity. Right now he was pleased he had not travelled with the football team. No one knew they were arriving by train, that he was going to be staying in Fréjus. They could have some privacy. And that was all they wanted. Privacy and time to reconnect with each other again before sharing it with other people.
*
She didn’t believe what he’d told her. Ex-girlfriends didn’t phone their ex-boyfriends to get phone numbers. That was what the internet was for. Mentally, Madeleine would be in one of two places. She’d either hate his guts – she’d call anyone but him for help – or she was still in love with him – she’d be making up better excuses than dodgy water pipes or whatever it was in order to get him back.
Whatever the phone call was about she knew the reason he was keeping it from her was to protect her from something. Half of her thought this was gallant and sweet, the other half was cross that he thought she couldn’t deal with the truth. She’d accepted the lame excuse for now because she didn’t want to spoil things. But later she would get him to tell her. They needed to start this relationship the right way and that meant putting the past behind them and dealing with whatever the future threw at them, together.
A car met them at the small airport in Fréjus and took them the few kilometres further inland to the place where she had spent that unforgettable summer.
Watching out of the window, Emma felt her whole body reconnect with both the situation and the place. A shiver ran over her as she saw so many familiar sites. The corn fields, the hue of the trees, the arable land, the cloudless sky. All of it evoking so many memories. Before she knew it, the tears were in her eyes.
‘The campsite,’ Guy remarked, pointing out of the window.
And there was the back entrance to the campsite. The same gate, albeit newly painted, where she had met Guy so many times before, escaping to be together. She craned her neck as the car drove on by, trying to catch a glimpse of anything she remembered, needing to see it all.
‘We can go there… if you like,’ Guy offered as Emma turned her head back.
‘Oh, no, we don’t need to, I…’
‘It has changed. There are new things, two new swimming pools, archery, trampolines…’
‘No more Sumo suits or darts?’ she asked.
‘Darts still, I think,’ he responded. He laughed.
The car travelled a few more minutes and then pulled off the road onto a dirt track. As the vehicle moved along at a leisurely pace, Emma saw a house coming into view up ahead.
‘Is this it?’ she asked, looking through the gap in the seats and through the windscreen.
‘Oui,’ he replied.
The car swept up to an enormous two-storey farmhouse-style building. It looked made of traditional stone, had a tiled roof and bright, white, newly painted shutters adorned each window. Emma let out a gasp of pleasure. It was beautiful.
The car stopped outside the entrance and a middle-aged woman in a floral dress, an apron tied around her, came hurrying from the house, her arms outstretched.
Guy was up and out of the car and Emma watched as he gathered the woman up in his arms, swinging her off her feet. It was obvious this person meant something to him. Was it a relative? A friend? Why hadn’t he told her someone would be here?
Her door opened and Guy was there, urging her to leave the car.
‘Emma, this is Colette. Colette, this is Emma,’ he introduced.
She had little time to adjust to the bright sunlight or her surroundings before Colette was hugging her as if they were old friends.
‘Welcome back to Fréjus,’ Colette said, taking Emma’s hands and smiling warmly at her.
‘Thank you,’ she answered.
‘Colette is an old friend. She looks after the house for me now I have moved to England,’ Guy explained.
‘I meet Guy when he sign for OGC Nice. I used to help the younger players back then. Teach them how to look after themselves. Washing machine… cooking… to shower…’ Colette began.
‘Hey! I always know how to shower,’ Guy interrupted, acting playfully shocked.