A Grand Old Time by Judy Leigh

Author:Judy Leigh [Leigh, Judy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2018-01-11T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Panda, with a full tank and its new radiator, idled outside Clémence’s bed and breakfast and the sun was seething. Brendan was at the wheel and they were saying their goodbyes. Maura stood with her new friends and she was effusive, kissing Clémence and her husband and Olivier on both cheeks and handing Clémence flowers and saying what a good time she had shared with them. Brendan was conscious of the nagging ache in his chest. He glanced out of the window at the road in front of him. He stared at his hands on the steering wheel, at his wedding ring and up at Maura who still had her back to him.

‘We should be leaving, Maura. It’s past three.’

‘We have a map, Brendan.’ She spoke without turning, as if a map solved all their problems. He made a mental note of distances: it was seven hours to Foix and so he could do it in two days if they made an overnight stop. Bordeaux was halfway there, somewhere in the middle of the route, and there might be a nice hotel, although he dreaded the hours he would spend in the car with Maura, or the minutes they would spend sitting across a table. He waited quietly until she was in the passenger seat and he drove the car away, Maura trailing her waving hand through the window. The face she turned back to him lost its smile almost immediately.

‘Where are we staying tonight?’

His mouth searched for placatory words but those days were over and he needed to be clearer, tougher. ‘Bordeaux,’ he replied, thinking that a laconic answer would be safest.

‘How many hours to Bordeaux?’

‘Three, four. We can be in Foix tomorrow.’

‘Thank God for that.’ She delved into her bag, took out sunglasses and put them on, then found a CD of her choice and leaned back in her seat. Brendan swung the Panda onto a busy road and took his place in a line of traffic.

It was half past eight when they arrived on the outskirts of Bordeaux. Maura demanded a hotel with a restaurant and Brendan was happy to oblige her; it was her only conversation with him for the whole journey. They put their cases in the room, changed and shared a silent meal. Brendan yawned and made a move to go upstairs. Maura put a hand on his arm and her sudden touch made him jump.

‘Should we have a little walk outside and get some air before we go to sleep, Brendan? Just to take the air and have a look at Bordeaux at night? I expect we shall be off to Foix tomorrow straight after breakfast, to find your mother.’

She was trying her best. Brendan’s stomach lurched in anticipation and he left her in the foyer looking at the décor while he popped upstairs for a jacket for them both.

As they stepped out, she took his arm and he wondered if she was holding onto him for her own protection. He inhaled the strong cloud of perfume that surrounded her.

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