Page 74 of The Riviera House Swap
‘Perhaps,’ he said gently. ‘But we are all different; we have to listen to our hearts. Perhaps for you, the security is important? Perhaps you love your work too much to leave?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s definitely not those things, not really,’ she said. ‘I just feel kind of obligated.’
‘To your boss?’
Nina nodded. ‘It’s stupid, but I don’t want to let anyone down,’ she said, half smiling.
Antoine looked at her, his intelligent eyes seemingly seeing right into her. ‘But youwilllet someone down,’ he said. ‘I think maybe you will let yourself down if you try to please others. And perhaps it is time to please Nina. To think about what she wants. This is not a selfish thing. It is necessary.’
Nina looked at him, understanding breaking through her stress. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I should do that. Why can’t I do that?’ she shook her head. ‘I’m such an idiot.’
‘No, you are kind. And I think you are a little afraid.’
‘Afraid?’
‘It is not a bad thing to be afraid sometimes. We are all afraid,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Life can be scary sometimes.’
He was right. She had been operating, making decisions from a place of fear. Of wanting acceptance and security. Of wanting things to stay the same, to keep the fear of the unknown at bay.
But she hadn’t succeeded anyway, she realised. She hadn’t changed, but things around her had. Then she’d decided, in a mad moment, to come to France, to change how she reacted tolife. Yet here she was, slipping back into her own pattern of self-preserving behaviour.
‘Are you OK?’ Antoine said, softly. ‘I have not upset you?’
She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I’m just thinking.’
He nodded. ‘Well, that is good. You have a lot to think about, I think.’ He laughed at his own, repetitive wording. ‘And I,’ he said, draining a coffee, ‘have some supplies to pick up for my lazy sister.’
‘Of course,’ she said.
They looked at one another for a moment, then Antoine shook himself slightly as if coming out of a daydream. ‘Right, I must go,’ he said. ‘See you later.’
‘See you,’ she said. ‘And thank you.’
‘Thank me for what?’ he said, turning to look at her again.
‘Helping me to see more clearly.’
39
A light rain began to fall the next day. The kind of rain that seems so inconsequential, you wonder when stepping out whether you need a coat at all. It determinedly saturated everything it could, relentlessly sending tiny drops until puddles filled, guttering overflowed, windscreen wipers could barely keep up. It pattered onto windows and covered waterproof coats with tiny balls of water that gathered and formed runnels down the waterproof surface.
Until today, although the weather had been up and down, Nina had been able to deny to herself that November was coming and with it, her planned return to work, the exchange of contracts on the house, the plane ride home from Cagnes-sur-Mer and Pierre and Antoine and Sabine. A month away from her usual life had seemed unimaginable at first, but now the time had passed and reality was beginning to make itself known.
And Sabine was leaving.
When she’d first seen the rain, Nina wondered whether Sabine might delay her departure. And she’d felt a surge of hope that surprised her. It had been nice having someone in the house with her – she’d lived alone since Rory moved out six monthsago – and Sabine had become a close friend in a short period of time. When you live with someone, there can’t be shyness and subterfuge – they get to know the ‘real’ you pretty quickly and with that comes either intimate friendship or mutual loathing. Luckily for them both, they’d become firm friends. Nina would miss her.
Tonight, she had a date with Pierre, at yet another restaurant – she’d debated inviting him back to Jean-Luc’s for a meal instead, but had worried it might sound too much like a guaranteed path to sex. Not that sex was completely off the cards – she just wanted to keep hers a little closer to her chest. She was looking forward to the date, although she hoped he’d have chosen a better restaurant this time and there would be no deranged ex-girlfriends peering through the window. But in between now and then, her new friend would be leaving – something she’d begun to dread. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted time to pass quickly or slowly – and as a result, it seemed to speed up and slow down throughout the morning. It was seven o’clock, then nine, then ten past nine, then eleven.
Antoine had arrived with a bag of provisions at around 10.30a.m. and Sabine had finally emerged from her room with her remaining bags to greet him. ‘What do I need with more cans of haricots verts?’ she asked him, raising an eyebrow. But she’d been pleased, nonetheless. ‘He likes to look after me,’ she said quietly to Nina. ‘It is nice, huh? But he forgets I am almost as old as he is.’
Nina had smiled and agreed it was very sweet. As a child, having no siblings had never bothered her – she’d seen her friends’ brothers burst into their rooms, their sisters steal their clothing, the mess and teasing and arguing and the sharing of things that came with having a larger family. But now, older, she saw that there was another side to having a sibling. Someone who would be there for you in the unconditional way that onlyfamily can be – someone who knows all your secrets and accepts and loves you anyway. Or at least, if you are lucky.
‘What he really needs,’ Sabine had said, ‘is a wife to look after, or at least a girlfriend. I think he has a lot of love to give,’ and she’d looked at Nina so pointedly, she’d had to look away.
It had taken them no time to consume a coffee and some tiny pastries Antoine had bought and by half eleven, Sabine was in the driver’s seat, the engine chugged into life and her foot on the accelerator. Nina had a horrible feeling she might cry, so tried to choke down the tears by reminding herself of happy things – like Pierre and the fact she was on holiday and the financial freedom her little slice of equity could buy her. It had worked, just.
‘Be careful,’ Antoine had said as they’d stood in the rain to wave her off. He’d left his coat inside and had pulled the hood on his sweater up to cover his hair. It was already soaked through and he was shivering slightly. ‘This is not good weather on the roads.’
