A French Affair - Jennifer Bohnet Page 0,65

in Africa. His mother refused to let ’im travel there.’

‘What were you doing in Africa?’

‘I oversaw several charitable projects building schools for the local children,’ Alain said briefly, keeping his gaze on the river.

‘Sounds like a rewarding thing to have done.’ So, not a mercenary then. Working for a charity was more in tune with the kind of man Alain was turning out to be, Belinda realised.

Alain nodded at her words.

‘Did you come home because of your parents? To help them?’

‘Oui. They’re at an age when they need me around. Although if you’d heard my maman telling me off the other day for not wearing a coat, you’d think I was still six years old.’ He paused. ‘And there was this place of course.’

‘Were you upset when you discovered Nigel now owned it?’

‘Non. It stops my parents worrying about money and they’re ’appy for me to have a job while things sort themselves out.’

Belinda waited for him to explain what things needed sorting out, but he stayed staring out over the river.

‘Were you living with them before the cottage was ready? Or have you got your own place in the village?’

‘I was back in my old childhood room with them. Still covered with motorbike posters.’ Alain grinned at her. ‘A virtual time warp.’

‘Did they mind you moving out again so soon?’ Belinda asked. Then, as something Alain had said the day she did her first site inspection flashed into her mind, she turned to look at him. ‘Hang on, why are you still living in the cottage now I’m back? Why haven’t you returned to your parents’ place to keep an eye on them? You told me you had no intention of living on site until the season started properly.’

Alain returned her glare with one of his own. ‘And leave you living on site by yourself? Don’t be ridiculous. And don’t accuse me of being a chauvinist again. It’s the way I was brought up – you don’t leave any woman in a vulnerable situation.’

‘We’re in the middle of the countryside, not the inner city,’ Belinda said. ‘There are campers around. I have a phone to call the gendarmes if I have to. And I have BB. I don’t need looking after. You should be looking after your parents.’

‘Like it or not, I’m staying put in the cottage until you leave for good. Now let’s get back,’ and Alain waited for her to start walking before he fell into step alongside her.

Back at the cottage, Belinda said a polite bon nuit and went straight to her room to get ready for bed. She supposed she should be grateful that Alain was such a gentleman. The campsite was in an isolated position and under the cover of darkness it could be eerily spooky with the owls calling to each other and the nocturnal animals rustling through the bushes as they hunted for food. But she’d have coped. Although, if she was honest, she did sleep better knowing that there was someone else in the house with her. Any emergency and help would be instant.

Perhaps she was overreacting? It had been a long time since anyone had thought to protect her from real or imagined trouble. Despite their differences, she liked Alain and after their conversation this evening, knew he had hidden depths that he kept well concealed. She was beginning to value his friendship and didn’t want them to fall out. Tomorrow at breakfast she’d apologise and lay the blame on becoming fiercely independent since her divorce.

31

There was an unusual atmosphere in the kitchen during breakfast at the auberge Thursday morning that worried Fern. The four guests in the dining room were happy and friendly as she served them, talking about where they were going for the day, Quimper. One of the party was vegan and asked if she could recommend anywhere for lunch. ‘Try my favourite place for lunch in Quimper, The Sherlock Holmes Restaurant. Lots of choices for both vegans and meat eaters,’ Fern said. ‘You’ll all find something tasty to eat. You need to get there early, it’s very popular.’

In the kitchen, though, something was different. Scott and Anouk normally set the world to rights over their coffee and croissants, but this morning, they were both strangely quiet. Fern struggled to get a word out of either of them. In the end, after the guests had gone upstairs to get ready for their day out, Fern poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table

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