‘Those who do most, dream most.’
Stephen Butler Leacock
When Michelle and I get back home Joanna offers to go out to fetch the pizza so I have to wait longer for the mystery to be explained. I shoot looks at Michelle who is doing a crap job of concealing her interest.
“Well this makes a nice change from kiddie DVDs on repeat. Seeing my best friend loved up with a hunky vet, a real-life drama and wine tasting at a chateau. Going back to the ironing is going to be a bit of a come down on Monday.” Michelle settles back on the sofa and Peanut jumps up next to her, rolling over onto her back and waggling her legs in the air, inviting a tummy scratch.
As Michelle steadfastly refuses to give me any clues about why she recognises Joanna I go to the next most important subject on the agenda.
“Do, you think he really likes me then?” I know I sound about sixteen but can’t help exposing my insecurity.
“He more than likes you Poppy. I think he’s in love with you.”
“Really? How can you tell?” I try not to give in to the sensation of soaring hope.
I’ve been trying to anchor myself to common sense, to the reality of the fact we’ve only just met and not let cloud nine carry me away. Because if I do I’m terrified of crashing back down to earth with a bump.
Being rejected by Pete felt like crap, but mostly because of the sense of his betrayal and me being found “wanting” somehow. Being rejected by Leo would feel like having my heart ripped out. I’ve opened up to Leo more deeply, I’ve exposed my desires and my dreams.
I can’t throw the nagging fear I’ve trusted too quickly, fallen too hard. I understand now why the phrase “falling in love” is used because you have no control over it, you plummet heart and soul and your hopes and fears lie in the hands of someone you want to trust, but…
“Stop stressing Poppy. I can tell he’s fallen for you by the way he looks at you,” Michelle breaks into my thoughts. “Also I had a good talk with Sarah.”
“Yes, we saw you two plotting.” I nibble my lip. “Do you think she liked me?”
“Of course she likes you, you dope.” Michelle shakes her head. “Do I have to send you another ‘reasons Poppy is fabulous’ list?”
“No, you’re okay. Thanks.” I exhale loudly and manage a smile.
The dogs kick off a cacophony of welcome as Joanna lets herself back in with the pizza.
“I can go and eat in the kitchen if you two would like to be alone?” Joanna looks between the two of us, warily searching my face for a sign that I know.
“No, don’t be silly, come and sit with us.” I get up and help her with the pizza while Michelle opens a bottle of St Quentin wine she brought back with her.
Joanna plays with the slice of pizza on her plate rather than eating it. Eventually she breaks the silence.
“So I guess you know who I am?” Joanna looks at Michelle and her gaze is fearful, her eyes wide. A beautiful wild doe caught in car headlights, not sure which way to bolt for safety.
“Yes, but Poppy is clueless.” Michelle nods over at me. “I thought you might want to tell her yourself.”
Joanna nods and toys with her pizza. “I assume you’re not a reality show fan Poppy?”
“Not really. Well I’m into shows like A Place in the Sun and Grand Designs, but that’s as close to reality TV as I get. “ I frown. “Are you saying you’ve been on some reality TV show?”
“It wasn’t something I planned.” Joanna sighs. “You might not believe me, but it’s true. I was approached. Have you heard of The Only Way is Essex?”
“Yes, but I haven’t seen any episodes.” I shrug. “You’re not from Essex though?”
“No. This was a different show but a similar concept. It was set in suburbia. I think they were hoping for a few desperate English housewives having sex with yoga instructors or something. Anyway, they regularly featured a row of shops that included my café. To start with I agreed they could use the café as a background. All publicity is good publicity, right?” Joanna laughs bitterly and takes a sip of wine. “But then the producer approached me one day and asked if I would go on a date with the male star of the show. I was flattered. He was really good looking.”
“He was,” Michelle agrees. “I’d have said yes.”
“And they promised all kinds of publicity for the café. More scenes filmed inside, featuring the food, you know the kind of thing.”
Michelle and I nod like we do know.
As if.
“I’d signed this disclaimer.” Joanna sighs. “I tried to read it all but lots of it didn’t make sense. My Dad even read it, too, but he’s a painter and decorator, not a lawyer. It never occurred to me I might need one.”
“What went wrong then?” I ask gently.
Joanna puffs out her cheeks. “I fell for him. I feel so stupid now. I actually thought he felt the same way.”
I try to squash down the anxiety her words provoke and stay quiet to give her time to eat some pizza before it gets cold. She manages a few mouthfuls and then puts her plate down.
“I found out he didn’t feel the same way when they filmed me in my living room watching the broadcast of an episode where he cheated on me with my waitress, my friend. So ex-friend, ex-boyfriend, and my humiliation captured and broadcast to millions.”
She sinks her head into her hands.
“That’s horrible. How can they call that entertainment?” I move over to sit next to her and Peanut bounces over onto Joanna’s lap to comfort her too. That or she’s after some of the abandoned pizza. Probably a little of both.
“Real, raw emotion is what they want now. They know viewers see through some of the scripted supposed reality scenes and now they’re pushing to go more extreme.” Joanna shrugs. “I simply had no idea how humiliating it would be. It was like they wanted to feed on my pain.”
“Like dementors,” I say, putting my arm around her.
“Exactly,” Joanna agrees and manages a wavering smile.
“What happened next was beyond the pale. No one should have to go through that.” Michelle studies her wine glass, not looking at Joanna.
They are both quiet for a while, I try not to get frustrated. I crack in the end.
“What happened then?” I ask.
“It turns out my ex filmed us having sex. It wasn’t footage used in the show, and I didn’t know he filmed it. He wants to be a huge star.” Tears are sliding down Joanna’s face quicker than Peanut can lick them away. “He released it on the Internet and it went viral. My Gran heard about it down the bingo hall. My Gran. Can you imagine? And my Dad can’t even look me in the eye anymore.”
She’s sobbing now, great heaving sobs that wrack her body. I hug her. I can imagine.
“Huge star? Huge bastard more like, that’s just…” I run out of words. Michelle supplies a few expletives.
“I packed a few things and got in my car and drove. I haven’t got much in savings and didn’t make much from the show. It was all supposed to be for the bloody publicity.” Joanna hiccups and soon we’re all giggling, despite the awfulness of the situation. “I didn’t have a plan. I thought I could pick up some catering work, go somewhere the show hadn’t been aired. I know the sex tape is all over the Internet, but I’m … not sure people would recognise me from it.”
“What about your café?” I ask, dismayed.
“My parents are putting it up for sale for me. I can’t go back. Ever.”
I stare at her tear sodden cheeks and am stirred by a huge wave of compassion.
“You can stay here as long as you like Joanna. You could do the catering side of things, do the whole evening meal thing. We’ll do a percentage share of the profits or work something out. I want you to feel it’s your project too.” I hug Joanna and she hugs me back fiercely.
“Thanks Poppy, you’re one in a million.” Joanna’s tears leave wet patches on my top.
Just as I think we’re all about to dissolve into a mess of the kind of emotion TV producers would love to get on film I spot Peanut running off with a slice of pizza twice as big as she is.
We all burst out laughing and the tension of the moment is broken.
Just one phrase resounds in my head – “I thought he felt the same way.”
Am I guilty of being just as naive?
From [email protected]
Subject: My first village meeting!
It was so lovely to see you last weekend. I’ve just got back from my first village meeting. It was difficult because Leo kept having to translate for me, but the outcome is they’re going for the scheme I suggested – to apply to get into that Most Marvellous Villages guide I told you about. Apparently if your village make it into the guide then your tourist traffic increases about fifty percent. There are all kinds of hoops to jump through – ticking the cultural and historical boxes and also providing services for tourists. The first two aren’t too hard. They’re going ahead with my gallery idea along with the chateau history tours and wine tasting days they’ll have running while the gallery construction and planning is underway. The only sticking point is that there needs to be some tourist accommodation in the village.
The great news is that because getting into the guide will help the whole village all kinds of people are willing to pitch in and help me get the guesthouse ready, providing materials at cost and giving up their time for free. In return I’ve agreed to have a folder promoting all the local businesses and services in my guest rooms.
It looks like it’s actually happening. Can you believe it? Things have been mad busy. I finished the artwork for the vet surgery and Angeline loves it. The fee I earned helped pay the plumber :-)
Also I think I’m going to get involved with helping set up the new gallery. Maybe I’ll even sell my own art there. But I’m getting ahead of myself. We’re still waiting to have those prints verified as Goya’s. If I’m right then we can go ahead with the gallery work straight away.
I haven’t got round to having that conversation with Leo yet. Things are going so well I’m terrified of spoiling them. I know you said you think he loves me, but he hasn’t actually come out and said things are as serious for him as they are for me. You know how terrified I am that this is all too good to be true.
I’m happy and that scares me. When your life has been turned upside down once before you realise how fragile the things we take for granted really are.
On that depressing note I’ll leave you!
Please give big squishy hugs to my godchildren, won’t you? Maybe in the summer you can all come out together as a family, have a proper holiday.
That would be fab :-)
Love from Poppy
xx
I’m sitting next to Leo as he takes the phone call from the Goya expert in Chatres. Madame and Monsieur Dubois are practically on the edge of their seats, hands clasped in a way that moves me. I wonder if Leo and I will have fifty years of that kind of bond? I yearn for it so much it’s like a physical ache in my chest.
I’ve been too afraid to ask Leo if I’m a “just for now” girl. Never ask a question you can’t face the answer to, that’s what Gran used to say. Though she always dared me to be the kind of girl who did ask questions, who wasn’t afraid to be different and stand out from the crowd.
I was upset the first time I heard someone talking about Tall Poppy Syndrome. I was only eleven at the time. My sisters just laughed at me, but Gran gave me a cuddle and explained it wasn’t meant to be about me specifically but anyone with the gumption to stand out from the crowd. People would always try to cut down tall poppies, those brave enough to not follow the herd and be different.
One of the phrases in the letter she left me with her will that made me cry most was “Don’t be afraid to be my Tall Poppy, darling, and don’t ever let anyone cut you down.”
I watch Leo’s expression as he talks to the expert. It maddens me that I can’t understand what’s being said so I concentrate on reading their expressions instead. Leo is as inscrutable as ever but when I see his parents beaming I realise it’s good news.
Soon we’re all hugging and kissing. In the confusion I do a fair bit of nose bumping but it doesn’t matter. I know nobody cares.
Monsieur Dubois grips my arms hard. “You must have a finder’s fee Poppy, I insist.”
“Oh, I couldn’t really, all I did was open a book.”
“A book no one else had opened in years and might never have opened for God knows how long,” Madame Dubois adds.
“Take it Poppy, you deserve it. Basically you uncovered more hidden treasure,” Leo murmurs in my ear. “You could convert the barns into gîtes and create a separate apartment for Joanna. You could even put in a swimming pool.”
“Um, well, if you’re sure. But don’t feel you have to.” I stare down at my feet, my cheeks hot. “Thank you.”
“The publicity of the auction should help with the Saint Quentin’s bid to get into the guide.” Leo grins. “You are definitely our good luck charm Poppy. You’re never allowed to leave the village from now on.”
“What, I’m not even allowed to go to Carcassonne?” I laugh it off but feel the warmth spreading through my chest, driving away some of the vestiges of my insecurity.
“No, you’re the village lucky mascot. If you leave there might be floods and plagues. Who knows?” Leo laughs.
I don’t say that I want to be his lucky mascot. That while I love helping the village and being part of the community I still need to have that conversation with him about us. The more time we spend together the deeper I fall. I’m afraid if I leave it too long and it turns out I’m a “just for now” girl, I’ll be in so deep I can’t climb back out again.