A French Pirouette by Jennifer Bohnet

Chloe to walk into the auberge kitchen, clutching a bag of croissants to accompany the inevitable coffee, and tell her everything about her day at work. Instead she was probably sitting in Helen’s kitchen and chatting about her new life to her.
    When Helen rang to ask if it was OK if she booked a ferry ticket to come for a visit soon and casually added, “I’m loving having Chloe here; she’s such fun,” Libby was ashamed of the huge stab of jealousy that flooded her body at the thought of Helen sitting in the auberge, telling her things about Chloe that she longed to hear from Chloe herself.
    “Just you? Peter not coming with you?”
    “He’s too busy,” Helen said. “Can’t spare the time for a holiday.”
    “I’m beginning to know that feeling,” Libby said. “I’ll probably rope you in to do some of the chores around this place if you do come.” Maybe the thought of a working holiday would put Helen off.
    “Happy to help with anything. So can I come? I really need a break—and I need to talk to you about something.”
    “Of course you can come,” Libby said. How could she possibly refuse what sounded suspiciously like a plea for help. “Book the ferry ticket.” Switching off the phone she prayed the ‘something’ was nothing to do with having Chloe living with her and reminding Helen of the family life she’d longed for but had been unable to have.
    From the day she’d married Peter, Helen had been desperate to have a family. Instead miscarriage after miscarriage had happened. For years Helen had been unable to accept the situation and at one time she’d even refused to have friends with young children visit her. She simply couldn’t handle it.
    It was with some trepidation when Chloe was born that Libby and Dan had asked her to be godmother, only to be surprised by the alacrity of Helen’s acceptance—and by her devotion to Chloe. Years later Helen had confided in Libby that becoming Chloe’s godmother had been a real turning point for her. It had helped her to accept things and had quite simply saved her sanity by giving her a baby niece to lavish love and attention on.
    Thoughtfully Libby made a mental note to ask Chloe next time she spoke to her if she knew what was troubling Helen.
    The day after lunch at Brigitte’s, Libby was tidying the kitchen and planning to spend a couple of hours getting to grips with the weeds in the front garden and preparing the pots for their annual geraniums, when Lucas rang.
    “Hi. Are you free this afternoon? I’ve heard about a car that might suit you. The problem is it’s down in Morbihan so it’ll take a couple of hours to get there and back. You have dinner guests this evening?”
    “No—only Evie and she’s not bothered what time she eats, if she eats at all. But can you afford the time to take me?”
    “I have a few hours off until evening surgery. I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
    Libby sighed as she replaced the receiver. That was the gardening put off yet again then. She’d been expecting to not exactly have time on her hands when she moved to France, but certainly to live a more leisurely pace of life, giving her time to do things. Instead it had been non-stop almost from the time she’d put the key in the auberge door—and that had been before any proper guests arrived expecting breakfast and dinner.
    She ran upstairs to freshen up, slap some make-up on and get her bag. No need to change. That was another thing about living here. In the summer unexpected guests could arrive any time so Libby was trying to get into the habit of being what her mother would have called ‘presentable’ at all times.
    Whether she would have viewed the jeans and T-shirt Libby generally wore these days as being ‘presentable’ Libby didn’t dare think about. She pulled a pink sweatshirt over the T-shirt and combed her hair before applying a splash of lipstick.
    She pushed a small sigh of disappointment away when Lucas arrived in his muddy