The French Gardener(85)

However, the fact that she had made the right decision didn’t make it any easier to bear. She tried to pick the right moment to tell her husband: it was vital that she showed no emotion. Tears, blushing, wobbling lower lip and chin would only give her away. She had never been very good at acting. In her school days she had always been given the least responsible parts, like janitor, cook or “member of crowd scene.” Now she was required to give an award-winning performance, but she was insufficiently talented to pull it off. So instead of telling him at the table she decided to toss the news to him while she was bent over the dishwasher, stacking the soufflé plates.

“Darling, Jean-Paul has gone home for a break, to see his mother.” She closed her eyes at the mention of his name and squeezed back tears. Her throat constricted and her face reddened. She stood up and faced the window where her miserable reflection stared back at her from the glass.

“Good” was his reply. “You know, I’ve been thinking about your holiday idea.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I think we both deserve a break. Do you think your mother could come and look after the children?”

“Well, I was thinking perhaps Toddy would take them.”

“No, she’s got too much on her own plate to take on our three.” Finally, it was safe to turn around. She took the pheasant out of the oven and lifted the lids off the vegetables.

“I’m sure Mummy would love it, and the children adore Heinz,” she replied, relieved as she felt the shame drain from her face. “We could ask Mrs. Marley to cook, that way she won’t have to worry about food. I’ll get Toddy to keep an eye. Maybe she could take the boys off Mummy’s hands a little and have them for a couple of afternoons.”

“Splendid.”

“When were you thinking of going?” They served themselves and sat down.

“The end of May. The children will be at school all day so Verity won’t have to do much more than get them up in the mornings and pick them up after school and put them to bed. I think a week would do.”

Ava pulled a face. She didn’t like to leave the children. “You don’t think that’s too long?”

“Seven days? No, you need a proper rest.”

“Make it five, darling. I’ll get twitchy after that and they’ll miss us. Why not leave on a Monday and return on a Friday, that way we’re back for the weekend.”

“It’s up to you.”

“Yes, that’s better. Five days. Where shall we go?”

“Leave it to me. Tuscany perhaps, or somewhere in Spain. I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you,” she said, sighing heavily.

“Are you all right, Shrub? You don’t look happy.” He took her hand across the table and studied her face. “You don’t look happy at all.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said brightly.

“You’re still thinking about having another baby, aren’t you?”

“It’s on my mind, yes.”

“It’s worrying you.”

“It’s a big decision.”

“Very big. You’ve got plenty of time to decide. Don’t let it make you miserable. If you really want another child, Shrub, I’ll do my best to comply. You know I can’t deny you anything. It should give you joy, not make you sad.”

“I know. I’m just not sure I’m doing it for the right reasons.”

“We have three beautiful children who give us tremendous pleasure.”

“I know.”

“Think about it on holiday. The sunshine and rest will do you the power of good and put life into perspective. Now, give me a smile, darling. You’ve made a feast. I raise my glass to you. You’re a wonderful woman, Ava.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “And you’re my Shrub.” Ava was stunned. That was a gesture unique to Jean-Paul. Phillip had never kissed her hand before. She felt her cheeks burn and the overwhelming desire to cry. “Darling, you look like you’re about to burst into tears.”

“You’re so good to me,” she said, unable to hold back anymore. Phillip chuckled, assuming her tears were inspired by his loving reassurance.

“You deserve nothing less.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “When I married you, you were a girl. You’ve grown into a woman I am so proud of. You’re beautiful, intelligent, interested in everything, but, above all, unique. There’s not a person in the world who resembles you in any way. I’m the luckiest man in the world to have found you.”

“You’re making me cry,” she said, grateful for the excuse.