The Chateau of Happily-Ever-Afters: a laugh-out-loud romcom!

‘Then why are you looking at me?’ I snap, annoyed at myself for falling for it.

‘I’m not. I’m looking at the centipede in your hair.’

I scream and start slapping wildly at my head.

He laughs that infuriating laugh again. ‘Bloody hell, it’s only a wee centipede. I’ll get it if you hold still.’

It’s not easy to stay still when every inch of your skin is crawling, but I try to stop flapping around as he strides across the room and reaches his big hand out. I squeeze my eyes shut and let him extract the wriggly thing from my hair.

Instead of stamping on the centipede like I thought he would, Julian crouches down and sets it back inside the hole I’ve just escaped from. ‘Couldn’t you have killed it?’

‘Why should I kill it? It’s been in this house a lot longer than you have. Why does it deserve to die because you’ve invaded its home?’ He stands back up and faces me.

I go to snap something in response but my eyes lock on to his blue ones and my train of thought stops abruptly. He’s right, isn’t he? Why should I be angry at him for not killing an animal, even an insect with far too many legs? It’s kind of nice, actually. I’ve never met anyone who would think twice about stamping on an insect before.

I try not to look at the hint of chest showing under the charcoal-grey shirt that’s so far open he may as well not be wearing one. I’ve never been particularly taken with muscular men, but no one can deny that his chest curves in all the right places.

‘Wendy?’ He clicks his fingers like it’s not the first time he’s said it.

When I look up, he’s smirking again and there’s laughter in his blue eyes. He knows exactly what my attention was on. ‘Hmm?’

‘I said, how far did you get in your search last night? Did you find anything interesting before you attacked the helpless, unsuspecting wall?’

‘Not very,’ I mutter, glaring at him, mostly because there’s no point in even trying to pretend I wasn’t looking for it. I’m just as bad as him. ‘We’ve got no electricity so it was pointless after dark. We’ll have to phone the electric company and get them to switch us back on. I expect it’s been shut off after so many years of the place being empty.’

‘Nah. No way does a place this far out in the countryside get electricity from the grid. There’ll be a generator outside somewhere that probably needs a good oil-up. I’ll see if I can find it later.’

I hadn’t even thought of that. And I’d thought I was being clever to deduce that the electric had been cut off. He’s undoubtedly right. Again. ‘How did you get in here anyway?’

‘I went for a walk and met our neighbour. Lovely old chap, lives at a farm about three miles down the road. Doesn’t speak a word of English, of course, but turns out he was good friends with Eulalie and her husband, and when she left, she gave him the spare key so he could keep an eye on things in exchange for grazing his sheep in our empty pastures.’

‘If he doesn’t speak a word of English, how did you get all of that?’

‘I speak fluent French.’

‘Of course you do,’ I mutter as I pull my hopefully insect-free hair back. You could fit what I remember of French on the bottom of an ant’s foot. Bonjour. Uno, dos, tres… Oh wait, that’s not even French, is it? I should’ve picked up a phrasebook at the train station yesterday.

‘So, this treasure then…’ He nods towards the wall. ‘Shall I see if I can reach it or would you like another try?’

‘I think I’ve crawled into enough holes for one day, thank you.’

He smirks again and I look away, trying to concentrate on the room I couldn’t see in the dark last night. He’s right about this being a tool room of some kind. There are work benches around the walls and mops and buckets and a broom propped up in one corner, an array of tools attached to the far wall. It’s only a tool room and it’s bigger than my entire flat at home.

Julian reaches the box with no trouble and I frown at the back of his head as he pulls it out. Is there anything he doesn’t make look easy? I’d obviously nudged it closer with all my struggling. That’s definitely it.

‘So…’ I watch in anticipation as he stays crouched on the floor, smoothing his hand across the top of the dirty silver box. We could be holding a fortune here and he’s bloody feeling the indentation of whatever French wording is etched on the top.

‘Oh yeah, this is definitely treasure.’ He looks up at me with that smirk again. ‘Congratulations, you’ve found a bonafide French rat box.’

‘What’s that?’

His face screws up in revulsion as he opens it. ‘You know. You put the rat poison in, the rats go into the box, eat the poison and can’t get back out again, so they snuff it in there. Well done, you’ve found the twenty-year-old bones of a dead rat. Here.’

He hands the open box to me and I shriek and stumble away. ‘Seriously? I nearly died for a dead rat?’

He bursts out laughing as he fits the lid securely back on the box. ‘Nothing like a bit of melodrama first thing in the morning. I didn’t realise getting stuck in a wall was such a near-death experience.’

‘I was alone! It was scary! I didn’t think anyone could get in to help me!’

‘Yeah, well, if you will insist on acting like a child and shutting the door in people’s faces. The solicitor never did say how old you are but I assume it’s in the single digits. Did someone have to sign a permission slip for you to come here?’

‘At least I’m not wearing a shirt that was clearly made for someone much younger. You must’ve got that from the children’s department,’ I say, even though he looks better than he did in the suit the other day.

‘Which is a step up from your current fashion choices, which seem to be showcasing the contents of a floor that hasn’t been cleaned since the nineties.’

I start brushing off the grime that’s ingrained in my clothes, trying to ignore him as he starts undoing the buttons of his shirt. ‘Why are you doing that?’

‘Well, if you have such a big problem with my shirt then it’s only fair I take it off. If you wanted a proper gawp at my abs you should’ve just said so.’ He slides the shirt off his tanned shoulders, flexing his bloody huge biceps and rolling his six-pack.

My eyes don’t know where to look first and I force myself to turn away so I don’t give him the satisfaction.

‘Okay, so…’ he says after a long silence. ‘Thanks for saving my life, Julian. Sorry for locking you out and for the crick in your neck from making you sleep in the car all night just so I could get a head start on the treasure hunting and keep it all from you.’

‘It wasn’t because of that.’

He doesn’t say anything but I can practically hear the raised eyebrow.

‘Fine,’ I mutter. ‘Sorry. And thank you for rescuing me.’

‘You’re welcome. I’m always happy to help idiots in distress.’ He claps his hands together. ‘There, now that’s settled and it’s daylight, I’m going to have a look round the grounds and see what’s growing on our fifteen acres.’

I hate the emphasis he puts on ‘our’. He’s doing it on purpose. ‘I was just about to do that.’

‘No, you were going to stay stuck in that wall until the end of time. Maybe after a few weeks of starvation, you’d have lost enough weight to free yourself.’

I turn around and glare at him, the shirtless git. His mention of starvation has made me remember how hungry I am. Now he’s in, there’s nothing to stop me going out to get food. Surely the village can’t be far away.

‘Seeing as you trying to kill me with that look of pure hatred has failed, shall we go and have a look round together? I’m not sure I can trust you not to fall down a well or something.’

I glare at him even harder but he continues smirking with his smug face and laughing eyes.

That feeling of being alone out here earlier? That was a good feeling. I miss that feeling.

Chapter Five (#ulink_d34f60ab-3da7-5aed-8f75-3408756d6297)

Outside, the early morning sun is high in the sky and I squint up at it like a mole seeing daylight for the first time. It makes my eyes sting and start watering. Julian slides his sunglasses out of his jeans and puts them on. Of course, I didn’t think to bring sunglasses with me.

He stands at the top of the main steps and takes a deep breath, looking around. Past our courtyard, driveway, and the little access lane, there’s nothing but fields and trees for miles in front of us, the rolling green of Normandy hillsides. There’s no road, no traffic noise, nothing but the occasional squawk of a bird.