“How?”
“You will see. I have a plan. Trust me.”
Ava pulled away to inspect the greenhouse. There were pots of highly scented tuberose, rows of orchids in myriad colors, and pretty nerine lilies, just opening. Jean-Paul followed her, holding her hand, turning her around every few minutes to steal another kiss. It was fortunate that when Henri entered with Phillip they were on either side of a table of rare purple orchids. “Phillip, do come and look at these,” she called to her husband. “They’re almost checked.”
Phillip strode over, admiring the plants as he passed them.
“This is quite something,” he agreed.
“Oh yes, Antoinette is a keen amateur,” said Henri.
Jean-Paul remained apart, watching Ava’s every move. “I think you should take them around the vineyard in the truck,” Jean-Paul suggested to his father. Henri enjoyed nothing more than showing off to his guests.
“We have just started spraying the crop,” he said. “Would you like to see?”
“That would be splendid,” said Phillip.
Jean-Paul waited for Ava to back out so that they could be together at last.
“I think I’ll leave you boys to it,” she said on cue. Jean-Paul threw her a secret smile.
Phillip frowned uneasily. “Why don’t we go for a walk?” he asked his wife. Jean-Paul looked at him in alarm.
“A walk?” Ava repeated.
“How far is it into town?” he asked Henri.
“A fifteen-minute walk. It’s a nice walk. There are some pretty shops you might like, Ava. Women’s shops, soaps and things.”
“I’d love to,” she replied. She wanted to explain her actions to Jean-Paul. They had to behave with caution. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Phillip. Her desire to be alone with her lover would have to wait.
“I can show you the vines tomorrow,” said Henri. “Now, let me show you how to get to town.”
Ava was sure that Jean-Paul would sulk. She braced herself for a sullen face, but to her surprise he simply shrugged. She smiled at him gratefully and he seemed to say “It’s okay, we’ll have plenty of time.” Reluctantly, she left him in the garden by the fountain and accompanied her husband to the front of the house. “Isn’t it a beautiful place?” she said as they walked down the drive beneath the shimmering plane trees.
“Beautiful,” he agreed. “Now you can see why it matters so much to Henri that his son gain experience of running an estate.”
“Completely. But I think he’s matured so much since he came to stay with us.”
“He’s a different man.”
“That’s what I said to Henri. I want him to know that he has a very talented son. I think he’s hard on him.” Phillip nodded. “His mother overcompensates.”
“It’s good for Jean-Paul to get away from both of them.”
“Do you think someone will be saying that someday about Archie and Angus?”
“Of course not, Shrub,” he reassured her. “You and I are pretty solid parents.”
“I hope so. I’d hate to think of them escaping to another country to avoid us.”
“Children go through stages. They have to spread their wings and fly. We have to let them. Jean-Paul will come back in the end and run this place as his father did. You can see how much he loves it and why.”
“I never imagined it to be so spectacular,” she agreed.
He took her hand. “So, you’re not missing the children?”
“Not yet.”
“You’re happy I brought you here?”
“Very happy.”
“And your thoughts on motherhood?”
“I’ve moved on,” she said simply.
“Good.”
“I’ve decided I don’t need another child. I don’t want to be chained to the nursery again.”
“Quite.”
“I’m just beginning to enjoy my freedom.”
They wandered around the town, a pretty cluster of reddish-brown buildings built around a square dominated by an ancient church and a town hall. In the middle was a fountain shaded by neatly clipped trees. A couple of old men in caps sat smoking pipes on a bench, and a grandmother and child threw crumbs to a flock of pigeons. There was a small market where wizened country folk sold fruit and vegetables and tall bottles of olive oil. A skinny dog played with an empty Coke can. They drank coffee in a little café that spilled onto the pavement, served by waiters in black and white. A group of men in waistcoats played draughts in the corner and a couple of salesgirls smoked and gossiped. The streets were cobbled and narrow so that people were forced to park their cars and walk. A few tourist shops sold patterned tablecloths and soaps. Ava bought some lavender bath oil for her mother and sprayed herself with orange blossom perfume. Then she bought the scent. A small indulgence, but Ava was not extravagant and she couldn’t remember the last time she had bought something for herself beside plants. “This will always remind me of France,” she said, sniffing her wrist, then she walked lightly out into the street, where Phillip was looking into the window of an antiquarian bookshop.