tall man who regarded her intently with the most amazing chocolate-brown eyes she’d ever seen, and who, as far as she was concerned, eclipsed every other man in the room. His sexy French accent when he said ‘Enchanté’ took her breath away and she realised she was unlikely to return to her humdrum existence any time soon if Ben had anything to do with it. She was right. From that moment, things took on a life of their own.
Ben bought her a drink, they found a quiet corner and talked to each other nonstop. His English was good and Jodie could have listened to his sensual voice telling her about himself all night, but he wanted to know about her too. Two hours later, when they were asked to leave as the venue was closing, Ben escorted her and Tina back to the hotel, asked Jodie for her telephone number and promised to ring her the next time he was in London, around Christmastime.
‘So, you liked Ben then?’ Tina had said, smiling at her as the lift carried them to their room on the seventh floor. Jodie had nodded, happiness shining from her face. The next day she’d returned home in a daze, wishing the next two months away. She’d been back just twenty-four hours when Ben rang. He was in London, longing to see her again, and would she please join him for dinner?
Just eight weeks later, in the Mairie’s office of the small French village where Ben lived, they were married. Ben’s mother, Annette, and Tina, who flew over especially for the ceremony, were the only witnesses. The day had been perfect in every way, except that her mother wasn’t there to share in her happiness. Jodie had never missed her so much as she did that day, and she’d only just managed to keep back the tears.
Thinking about her mother now, Jodie’s fingers clasped the chain of the gold locket around her neck. Her mother’s locket. Two years ago, Jacqueline Saville had been knocked off her bicycle by an out-of-control car driven by a joyrider. The hospital had fought hard to save her but she’d died from her head injuries less than twenty-four hours later, a distraught Jodie holding her hand.
The locket had been around her neck ever since that horrible day when the nurse had gently removed it from Jacqueline’s body and handed it to Jodie. Dazed with grief she’d opened it and stared at the picture of herself as a toddler standing between her parents, holding their hands. The nurse had come running back when she’d screamed at the pair of them for dying and leaving her alone in the world.
When she and Ben fell in love, it had been left to Tina to assume the grown-up position with regard to Jodie’s sudden rush to get married. Although she was openly envious of Jodie’s unexpected change of fortune, Tina had taken her to task about the quickly arranged wedding and the new life she was throwing herself into.
‘Think about what your mum would say. You barely know Ben. You’ve been a townie all your life. The only place you ever go on holiday is Devon because you reckon it’s the perfect place – you’ve been muttering for years about moving down there one day. And now you’re getting married to a Frenchman and actually going to live in France? You’ll probably never set foot in Devon again. You don’t think you’re maybe rushing things a bit?’ Tina had paused for breath and shaken her head. ‘I just hope you know what you’re doing burying yourself in a village in a foreign land.’
‘Mum would have loved Ben,’ Jodie said. ‘And he would have adored her too.’
‘Maybe, but giving up your career and being a kept woman in a foreign country isn’t necessarily the right choice for you,’ Tina insisted. ‘You’re always out attending some party or launching a product. Your social life is as busy as your nine-to-five one. And…’ She’d paused as though what she was about to say clinched it. ‘You love shopping. How many shops are there in rural France? Not many.’
Jodie laughed. ‘I know, but honestly it’ll be a relief to step off the merry-go-round. Besides, I’m still going to have a social life, Ben knows lots of people. We’re only going to be an hour away from the Riviera so I’ll be able to go shopping on Rue d’Antibes in Cannes whenever I want. That can’t be bad, can it?’
‘But what exactly are you going to do all day?’ Tina asked. ‘Turn into a Stepford wife overnight?’
‘Of course not,’ Jodie had answered. ‘For a start I have to brush up my French. Try to become fluent so I can talk to the natives and make friends. Ben has promised me, once this latest book is finished, we can go house-hunting for a new home together. So I am going to be busy – just with different things. And I will look for another job, once everything has settled down.’
‘Have you asked Ben about moving over here?’ Tina demanded in one of their heated ‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?’ exchanges. ‘After all, writers can write anywhere. All they need is a laptop, a gallon of coffee, and to be shut in a room to write!’
‘True, but to be honest I haven’t even mentioned the possibility of him moving to London,’ Jodie said.
‘Why not?’ Tina asked.
Jodie hesitated. ‘Because his mother is still alive.’
Tina had looked at her open-mouthed before closing her eyes and nodding understandingly.
When Jodie had refused to even think about postponing the wedding, or worry about moving to France, Tina had given in, throwing herself wholeheartedly into helping her friend organise the wedding she’d always dreamt about. Quiet and romantic. The phrase ‘marry in haste, repent at leisure’ was voiced once and then never again uttered.
Something for which Jodie had been extremely grateful. But why was it popping back into her head now, two months later?
Wide awake now and knowing further sleep would be impossible, Jodie carefully edged herself out of bed leaving Ben to sleep for at least another hour. Picking up her dressing gown from the chair and slipping it on, she made her way downstairs to the kitchen. Still not quite light, she could hear the gentle morning breeze rattling the roofing sheets of the lean-to sunroom attached to the kitchen. Tess, Ben’s collie dog, raised her head from her basket in the corner and thumped her tail as Jodie switched on the lights, but didn’t bother to move.
‘Silly time to get up, isn’t it?’ Jodie said, giving Tess a stroke before switching the kettle on and spooning coffee into the cafetière. Ten years of working in a busy PR firm in London had etched the early morning wake-up routine deep into her subconscious. She sighed. How many years would it take for her to lose the habit?
Now, near the end of February, and two months after her whirlwind romantic wedding, the major flaw in her new life was spending less time than she’d expected with Ben. Increasingly she was beginning to feel a tiny bit… not bored exactly, just lost. Her initial enjoyment at not having to adhere to a daily work routine was also beginning to wear off.
Jacqueline Saville had drummed the need to be her own woman into her daughter from an early age, making Jodie fiercely independent and instilling a need in her to be self-sufficient financially. With Jacqueline’s insurance money still untouched and a respectable savings account of her own, it did mean getting another job wasn’t currently high on her agenda, but she definitely needed more to do. Contributing to their joint finances and not just being ‘a kept woman’, as Tina had so succinctly put it, was an essential requirement in this new life of hers.
She was missing Tina too. Quick texts and a Skype chat at weekends just weren’t the same. Jodie couldn’t help feeling they were drifting apart as the course of their lives changed. Still, only another few weeks until the London Book Fair when she and Tina could have a good catch-up. Jodie made a mental note to ask Ben which hotel they would be staying in so she could let Tina know. Hopefully he, or his agent, had remembered to book one. Rooms in central London were like gold dust during Book Fair week.
Pushing the cafetière plunger down and inhaling the deep aroma, Jodie debated whether to take a cup up to Ben but decided to leave him sleeping. Heaven only knew what time he’d got to bed last night. When she’d gone up at eleven, tired of waiting for him to join her, he’d still been in the study, furiously typing away.