of the pale pink liquid into their glasses. “Cheers, Rachel.”
“Cheers, Jilly. And thanks for your support.”
“Any time. So long as I don’t have to dress like a troll.”
Part Two : December–January
Chapter 14: A Surprise Visitor
Rachel was looking forward to a peaceful night in with no guests to worry about. The Japanese couple, the Karlsens and Els and Sara from Utrecht had gone, leaving warm words in the Visitors’ Book and promising to tell all their friends what a charming place it was to stay.
Wonder of wonders, some brand new guests had arrived from Italy, having found the B&B thanks to the website. After a few days at the Tournesol they had done a deal – brokered by Claude le Taxi – to hire a minibus and driver so they could do a wine-tasting tour of the area. The four of them were due back at the weekend, but Rachel had a whole two nights free.
On Monday she had taken the kids into town to see the latest blockbuster as promised, but this evening she planned to do absolutely nothing.
After supper with the kids she had enjoyed a blissful couple of hours reading a brand new paperback that had been on her ‘to-read’ pile for at least three months. Lying on the sofa, the warmth from the wood burner made her sleepy and she must have nodded off.
She was startled by a knock at the door. Glancing at the clock she saw that it was well past 11pm. Alice and Charlie had disappeared to bed hours before and the guests had gone off on their jaunt, so she couldn’t imagine who it might be.
Padding over to the door in her socks, she switched on the outside light and peered through the spy hole to see Michael standing there on his own.
Alarmed, she flung back the door. “Michael! Come in. What’s happened? Is everything okay with the baby?” Michael staggered into the room – his face grey and drawn – and collapsed on the sofa. “God, you look like you haven’t slept for a week.”
He leant forward with his head in his hands. “That’s just it,” he said, throwing his arms out across the back of the couch. “I haven’t! Not for days, weeks, months.” He groaned dramatically and rolled over, hitching his feet up onto the sofa.
Relief that nothing was seriously wrong made Rachel furious. She sprang over, grabbed Michael’s feet and swung them back onto the floor.
“Ouch, mind my back!”
“Never mind your ruddy back. What about my sofa? And your wife?”
“Girlfriend. She’s fine. She can sleep through anything.”
Michael had risen to his feet again and was leaning lopsidedly against the wall, eyeing up the drinks’ cupboard.
“Can I have a whisky, Rach? And half an hour of peace and quiet? Then I’ll go back and face the music.”
He looked at her with his big sad eyes and she wanted to thump him.
“No, Michael. You cannot have a whisky and a lie down. What on earth are you thinking of, turning up in the dead of night and giving me such a fright?” As he turned she noticed a sticking plaster covered in fluff dangling down over his ear. “And what have you done to your ear?”
“Can’t sleep. Horrible noise. Cotton wool.” He clutched his ear and, as he spoke, slowly sank back down onto the sofa like one of those Duracell bunnies running out of steam.
Rachel went over and hauled him roughly back upright. “Come on. I’m making you tea then I’ll damn well drive you home myself, if I have to.”
“But I need to slee . . .”
“You’re not sleeping here! Call Amelie now. She’ll be worried sick.”
As she waited for the kettle to boil, she could hear Michael’s soft murmur into the phone. When he came into the kitchen, she stirred the tea and plonked it down in front of him.
“Thanks sweet. . . Sorry. Look, you don’t need to drive me home,” – the word hung heavy between them – “I’ll be fine when I’ve had this. Nice cuppa, by the way.”
If looks could kill, Michael would have been dead that instant. How Rachel stopped herself
“Cheers, Jilly. And thanks for your support.”
“Any time. So long as I don’t have to dress like a troll.”
Part Two : December–January
Chapter 14: A Surprise Visitor
Rachel was looking forward to a peaceful night in with no guests to worry about. The Japanese couple, the Karlsens and Els and Sara from Utrecht had gone, leaving warm words in the Visitors’ Book and promising to tell all their friends what a charming place it was to stay.
Wonder of wonders, some brand new guests had arrived from Italy, having found the B&B thanks to the website. After a few days at the Tournesol they had done a deal – brokered by Claude le Taxi – to hire a minibus and driver so they could do a wine-tasting tour of the area. The four of them were due back at the weekend, but Rachel had a whole two nights free.
On Monday she had taken the kids into town to see the latest blockbuster as promised, but this evening she planned to do absolutely nothing.
After supper with the kids she had enjoyed a blissful couple of hours reading a brand new paperback that had been on her ‘to-read’ pile for at least three months. Lying on the sofa, the warmth from the wood burner made her sleepy and she must have nodded off.
She was startled by a knock at the door. Glancing at the clock she saw that it was well past 11pm. Alice and Charlie had disappeared to bed hours before and the guests had gone off on their jaunt, so she couldn’t imagine who it might be.
Padding over to the door in her socks, she switched on the outside light and peered through the spy hole to see Michael standing there on his own.
Alarmed, she flung back the door. “Michael! Come in. What’s happened? Is everything okay with the baby?” Michael staggered into the room – his face grey and drawn – and collapsed on the sofa. “God, you look like you haven’t slept for a week.”
He leant forward with his head in his hands. “That’s just it,” he said, throwing his arms out across the back of the couch. “I haven’t! Not for days, weeks, months.” He groaned dramatically and rolled over, hitching his feet up onto the sofa.
Relief that nothing was seriously wrong made Rachel furious. She sprang over, grabbed Michael’s feet and swung them back onto the floor.
“Ouch, mind my back!”
“Never mind your ruddy back. What about my sofa? And your wife?”
“Girlfriend. She’s fine. She can sleep through anything.”
Michael had risen to his feet again and was leaning lopsidedly against the wall, eyeing up the drinks’ cupboard.
“Can I have a whisky, Rach? And half an hour of peace and quiet? Then I’ll go back and face the music.”
He looked at her with his big sad eyes and she wanted to thump him.
“No, Michael. You cannot have a whisky and a lie down. What on earth are you thinking of, turning up in the dead of night and giving me such a fright?” As he turned she noticed a sticking plaster covered in fluff dangling down over his ear. “And what have you done to your ear?”
“Can’t sleep. Horrible noise. Cotton wool.” He clutched his ear and, as he spoke, slowly sank back down onto the sofa like one of those Duracell bunnies running out of steam.
Rachel went over and hauled him roughly back upright. “Come on. I’m making you tea then I’ll damn well drive you home myself, if I have to.”
“But I need to slee . . .”
“You’re not sleeping here! Call Amelie now. She’ll be worried sick.”
As she waited for the kettle to boil, she could hear Michael’s soft murmur into the phone. When he came into the kitchen, she stirred the tea and plonked it down in front of him.
“Thanks sweet. . . Sorry. Look, you don’t need to drive me home,” – the word hung heavy between them – “I’ll be fine when I’ve had this. Nice cuppa, by the way.”
If looks could kill, Michael would have been dead that instant. How Rachel stopped herself
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