“You weren’t put on this earth to get lost in the weeds. Be the tall Poppy you were born to be.”
Dawn Russell.
“So, is it ready to inspect?” I’m practically bouncing on the spot and Peanut and Treacle have picked up on my excitement and are literally bouncing up and down like a couple of furry yo-yos. Pickwick woofs excitedly and Barney sticks one ear up as high as it can go, which is the extent that they can join in with the jumping up and down, not being canine acrobats like the Chihuahuas.
Maxi cocks his head to one side, watching Leo rather than me, and looks mildly interested, which is the equivalent of a Peanut somersault.
“Yes, we can go over now.” Leo smiles, one that reaches his eyes.
He is so different nowadays to the man I met the first day I moved in. It’s as though the wind has blown the storm clouds away and let the real Leo shine through. He has still got a lot on his plate and is naturally concerned about his father but at least he talks to me about things now and I know that not feeling alone has made a big difference to him.
We walk towards the chateau. The September sunshine is glorious. The sunflower fields are still in full bloom and Saint-Quentin-sue-Aude is still in full on summer mode, there is no hint of autumn here yet. My body soaks up the rays of sun and I swear that it sighs happily. After a whole summer of being here in the south of France I feel better than I ever have. The months of sunshine have seeped into my bones and my joints, my skin glows with a healthy golden tan and I swear I feel the sunshine in my step and in my heart. With regular walking and twice-daily yoga I find I am feeling better, health-wise, than I have in years.
We walk, hand in hand. Barney and Maxi have elected to stay lying on the cool kitchen tiles. So it’s just Peanuts, Treacle and Pickwick trotting at our heels. When we get to the barn on the far side of the chateau it’s very quiet.
“Aren’t your parents supposed to be meeting us here?” I ask, looking around at the unusually silent courtyard. I know that there won’t be any art in it for a while but the fact that the gallery is finally finished so we can start the creative part of the work is so exciting. Monsieur Dubois is as excited about it as I am which is why I am surprised not to see him. I do hope that he is okay.
“I’m sure they are around somewhere.” Leo’s face is impassive but I can’t help getting the sense that he’s hiding something.
The barn is in darkness as we step inside. While I was sort of expecting something like this once I saw how quiet everything was, I’m still surprised to see how very full the barn is with villagers, including both Monsieur and Madame Dubois, thankfully. Adults are bearing balloons and party poppers and some of the village children are holding a banner that says “Thank you, Poppy” in English and is adorned with lots of poppies made from red paper tissue.
“Surprise,” Leo murmurs in my ear.
Madame Dubois steps forward, smiling at my expression.
“We wanted to throw you a party ma cherie, to say thank you for everything you have done for Saint Quentin.”
Sophie and Angeline also step forward, smiling and embracing me. I feel tears pricking at my eyes. I am surprised by how many of the villagers I know by name. Surprised by how quickly this has come to feel like my village and my community.
In London my neighbours barely looked at me, here it feels like everybody knows my name.
“But I haven’t really done anything,” I protest. “I just came up with some ideas.”
“Pftt.” Madam Dubois raises her steely eyes heavenward. “Tell her Leo.”
“I think what my mother is getting at is that without you having the ideas and the vision well … in short, without you nothing would have happened this summer. Just look how much you have achieved – getting us into the village guide, finding the Goya prints, your vision for the gallery and the wine tasting tours. And I know you have lots of new ideas too that you haven’t even shared with us yet.”
“I was saving those for next year.” I grin, pleased that he knows me so well already.
After talking to lots of villagers and thanking the children and their teacher for the banner, admiring their paper flowers, Leo draws me to one side.
“I told you that the world needs daydreamers and creatives. It looks like Saint Quentin really needed you.” He pulls me closer and whispers in my ear. “But not as much as I did.”
I turn to look up at him, up into dark eyes full of warmth and love, and wonder how I could ever have found them scary.
“I think that I’m the lucky one.” I blink back hot tears, still so incredibly grateful that I have landed with such kind people and with one person in particular who not only approves of my idiosyncrasies but loves them too.
I say “landed,” but really I believe that I was drawn here. From the first time that I saw the Les Coquelicots – my Poppy house – I knew that it was meant to be mine. The name was a sign that this was the place Gran wanted me to put down roots. That here “tall poppies” would be encouraged and nurtured, not necessarily valued by everyone but certainly by the people who count.
Leo has given me permission to dream, to float up amongst the clouds, knowing that he is standing below, feet planted on the ground tethering me to him. He is my earth, my rock and my anchor.
I have found my place in the world, somewhere I can flourish and grow. Somewhere I can dare to be different, to change and defy other people’s expectations.
I have even defied my own expectations.
We walk hand-in-hand through the bright open spaces of the gallery. The white walls are just waiting to be adorned with colourful canvases and beautiful works of art.
Like a blank page in my journal, waiting to be painted.
I smile and squeeze Leo’s hand. Gran would’ve been so proud. I came to the South of France looking for a new life, hoping to feel more connected than I did in London.
I see Angeline, Sophie and Joanna standing together, laughing. Jacob and Anya preside over the refreshments, beaming and Monsieur and Madame Dubois, well they are as dignified and graceful as the day I met them, but they seem lighter somehow.
I’m reminded of the ripples, the concentric circles I saw the night Leo gave me the tour of the chateau, and I can see that we are all connected.
Of course, that night I discovered the deepest connection of all. I got far more than I bargained for, I fell in love.
“Can we go outside for some fresh air?” I ask Leo.
I guess he sees a certain something in my eyes, either that or he picks up my mood. Sometimes he seems spookily able to read my thoughts. He skilfully guides us outside to a quiet spot behind the barn. He backs me up against a wall, a move that never fails to get my heart rate racing. I loop my arms around his neck and stare into his eyes, never tiring of the connection I find there. I say a silent prayer of gratitude to the universe for bringing me to Leo and for the white walls and blank canvases waiting to be filled.
And then we kiss. Something else I don’t think I will ever tire of.
From [email protected]
Subject: I’m in!
Can you believe I’ve made it into the magazine version of ‘Your Place in the Sun’? It’s weird – they make me look and sound so glam and accomplished in the article that I don’t recognise myself!
In the feature they cover all the news from the summer about discovering the Goya prints and then St Quentin making it into ‘France’s Most Marvellous Villages’ guide. Also, obviously it’s good publicity for the guesthouse. I bet we’ll get lots of bookings off the back of it. Funny how many photos of the house and gardens Peanut managed to photobomb! I think the photographer liked her :-)
The best bit though is that they’ve publicised ‘Only Dogs and Donkeys’! They’ve printed ‘Peanut’s’ introduction in full in the magazine. I think they must like the book because they’re even talking about me doing an online column called ‘Peanut’s Place in the Sun’, although obviously ‘Peanut’ will be writing that and I’ll just do the illustrations ;-)
Hope all is well with you and you’ve got over that nasty cold.
Love from Poppy
xx
P.S. Do you think Mum will stop lobbying me to come back to the UK when she sees the magazine article and the photos of the chateau Leo is due to inherit??? ;-)
From [email protected]
Subject: I’m in!
They make you sound glam and accomplished because you are glam and accomplished, you muppet!
I’ve still got the stinking cold and if I didn’t love you so much I’d hate you right now. Everyone always talks about living the dream – I’m just glad you got the chance to live yours.
Love and sneezes,
Michelle