The French Promise (22 page)

She glanced into the jar, impressed but on a mission. ‘Outside,’ she ordered. ‘You
all need a break from that.’

They trooped out and she called to the men standing above them, who were getting the next haul of fresh lavender ready to be laid out for steaming.

‘Come on – smoko. Tell the others. Harry, be a darling and go and get the other big jug on the table, will you?’

Harry nodded and ran back up the hill.

Luc swallowed a chilled glass of homemade lemonade and sighed. His
face was damp and grimy but he looked happy. ‘Oh, that’s good.’

‘Going well?’ she asked as they sat down in the grass beneath the great oak, slightly away from where the other workers were being entertained by Jenny, who was teaching them how to play cat’s cradle.

As he drained his glass, Luc looked up into the canopy of leaves and sighed, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. ‘This is the one, Lisette.’

She grinned. ‘Really?’

He nodded, looking thoughtful. ‘We’re going to take this one to London and have it tested.’

‘How can you tell? It smells so vile.’

He laughed. ‘Is there enough for me to have another glass?’

‘Drink it all. Keep your fluids up. Here comes Harry with more anyway.’ She refreshed his glass. ‘All right, lads?’

They all murmured their thanks and began lighting up cigarettes. Jenny
began to play cat’s cradle, on Harry’s fingers this time.

Lisette returned. ‘So how can you tell?’ she asked again.

He shrugged. ‘Instinct … experience. I just know. The oil’s clarity speaks for its quality. I can smell the freshness of the lavender. There’s nothing astringent about it.’

‘Well,’ she said, taking a sip from his drink. ‘You could have fooled me. It makes me feel ill.’

‘I know, but I’ll be honest, I’ve never seen it this good before.’

‘Ever?’ she said, astonished.

He nodded. ‘It’s the white lavender, maybe.’ He shrugged. ‘Perhaps it’s added a new dimension. We didn’t use it in France. No one trusted it.’

She hugged him. ‘You can thank Harry for that one then.’

‘I will. But I thank Saba for keeping the seeds.’

Whenever he mentioned his Jewish family – which was
so rare these days – Lisette held her breath.

‘Did Dad tell you?’ Harry said, arriving to refill Luc’s glass again.

‘You mean just how pure “Harry’s Brew” is?’ she said.

Her son laughed. ‘Yeah. Mum, it’s brilliant. Dad’s going to take it to London. If it’s as good as we think, we can sell it back to France.’

‘Now that is pretty amazing,’ she replied, smiling at Harry but giving Luc a congratulatory
dig. ‘I like that. The lavender has come full circle.’

‘I think we have you to thank, my love,’ Luc suddenly said, standing and raising his glass. He turned towards the men not far away. ‘A toast, fellas. Here’s to my beautiful wife, who came up with this grand plan to plant lavender in Tasmania. It’s taken us years but we’ve done it. We’re ready to supply in bulk and start making money.’

‘To
Lisette!’ the men chorused and drank to her.

‘Stop,’ she said, blushing.

‘Sante,’ Luc said. ‘You and I leave for London in June.’ Lisette opened her mouth in a gasp of pleasure and Luc winked.

By the beginning of February the fields were reddish brown again. All the lavender had been harvested and seeds had been kept for the following year’s planting. Now stock would be assessed for
the ‘’63 vintage’, as Lisette called it. But the hardest work was done and it was a time for a month of relaxation during the hottest part of the year. With Lisette’s encouragement, Luc had agreed to go fishing: Tom had invited him on a ‘blokes’ weekend’.

Luc was reluctant to leave his family, now on summer holidays with school out and eager to bury their books beneath their beds for eight weeks.
Harry had actually kicked off his school shoes and hurled them across the garden outside the back door as far as he possibly could.

‘Did that feel good?’ Lisette had asked.

‘Sure did,’ Harry had admitted, squinting into the sun.

‘Now go find them,’ she’d suggested, trying to stop herself laughing.

At the news of Luc’s trip away, Harry had become crestfallen.

‘Dad’s not going to be here?’ he’d
asked, looking wounded.

‘Harry, it will be so good for him to go somewhere with other men. Your father never goes anywhere.’

‘He’s going to London soon,’ Jenny had chirped unhelpfully.

‘That’s work,’ her mother had admonished and Jenny had given her a look that was laced with irony. Lisette had seized
her chance. ‘Now, listen to me, you two. Dad has few friends.’

‘He doesn’t have any,
Mum,’ Jenny had said, ever blunt.

Lisette had blinked. ‘He has Tom.’

‘Tom doesn’t count. Tom’s family.’

‘Oh do be quiet, Jen,’ Lisette had said with a sigh. ‘Dad needs to let out some steam, be amongst men. These are mates of Tom’s who live around Hobart.’ She had shrugged. ‘Frankly, I’m sorry you think I’m not enough fun to be around.’

‘I didn’t mean that,’ Harry had said and she’d smiled.

‘I
know you didn’t. But let him go without a fuss. He’ll be gone all of three days at most.’

They’d all agreed that morning it was good for their father. The fly screen door slammed just as their mother yelled: ‘Be home for four, or else.’

The siblings headed down the long drive; agapanthus flanked their path and the flower heads hung heavy on their luminous green stalks like huge pompoms. The rich
scent of roses could now push through after weeks of the powerful lavender fragrance that carried on the breeze for miles.

‘I’ve got one more week before the holidays are done,’ Harry said wistfully, ‘and then I’m being banished to the city.’

‘I wish I was fifteen,’ Jenny bleated.

‘Don’t be in a hurry. You’ve got it so good here. Boarding school is—’

‘In Launceston,’ she finished, sounding impressed.
‘Actually, I want to go to school in Hobart, if they’ll let me … or even Melbourne.’

He gave a snort. ‘Forget it. Mum will never agree.’

‘Dad might.’

‘I know Dad seems to refuse you nothing but I still don’t think—’

‘Don’t say it. Let me just keep my daydream.’ He gave her a soft push as they turned up the road towards the piggery. ‘If I never had to leave our farm, I couldn’t be happier.’

‘I can’t wait to leave.’

‘We’re just different,’ he said fondly. ‘And that’s a good thing.’ Jenny noted an echidna lumbering ahead of them. ‘It’s just that I want to see the world, I want to be involved with fashion, I want to—’

‘Who says you can’t?’

‘Life! Mum and Dad want us to run the farm.’

‘I’m sure they hope we will, but I’m just as sure Mum wouldn’t stop us doing anything we were keen on.’

‘Dad keeps saying he’s setting us up in a family business.’ She watched Harry guide the spiky, somewhat irritated animal to move off the roadway and up the small embankment into safer territory.

‘I’ll run it for us. And you can take charge of the international sales, if we get the accreditation from London.’

‘Which we will,’ she said archly.

‘Well, you’ll travel, I promise. Stop worrying. Right
now our responsibility is picking blackberries, or Mum really will have something to be cranky about. I think she’s baking one of her special French tarts.’

‘Oh, yum.’

They burst in through the back door as their mother put a finger to her lips. She was just listening to the end of her favourite radio soap – ‘Portia Faces Life’ – while she tackled her pastry. The familiar music sounded and she
grinned.

‘I love Lyndall Barbour’s voice,’ Lisette cooed, wiping her floury hands on her apron and clapping as her children triumphantly held up their cargo. ‘
Magnifique!
’ she said, peeping into their bowls. Then she chuckled. ‘Your lips are blue.’

‘I’ve got a lift into Lilydale with Mr Barnes,’ Harry announced.

‘Can’t waste a second, eh?’ Lisette said, expertly laying her buttery pastry
into the tin.

‘One week of freedom, that’s all I have left,’ Harry replied. ‘I don’t want to waste a moment of it.’

‘Well, pick up some bread, then. Can you do that? I just know your father will forget.’

‘Where is Dad?’ Jenny asked, returning from washing her mouth and hands.

‘Gone into Launny to buy a rod.’

Jenny’s mouth opened in despair. ‘And he didn’t take me?’ Lisette’s rolling pin halted.
‘You don’t want to look at fishing tackle!’

‘No, but I could have been left in the Quadrant for an hour.’

Her mother couldn’t hide her exasperated expression. ‘I don’t think so, Jen. You’re eleven, not eighteen.’

‘Approaching twelve,’ she corrected.

‘Nowhere near it!’

‘I still wish we were all going,’ Harry mooched, putting on his hat again.

At that moment, the fly screen wheezed and Luc appeared,
looking like a Sherpa, loaded down heavily with fishing and camping gear.

‘You need all of that for one weekend?’ Lisette said, bemused.

Luc beamed them a grin. ‘I don’t. We might, though.’

She frowned but the kids cottoned on immediately.

‘We’re all going?’ Harry said, rushing to his father.

Lisette sighed. ‘Oh no, Luc. I think I hate fishing.’

‘So do I,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘Which
is why you can all suffer alongside me. Except, in my mercy, I’ve decided you can stay at the beach and I’m only going to do one day of fishing at Frederick Henry Bay, the rest of the time at Clifton Beach.’

‘But Tom—’

‘Tom understands. The shore fishing off Clifton is great at this time of year – he reckons we might catch ourselves your favourite, flathead. Besides, right now I want to be with
my family.’ He threw an arm around Harry, who looked fit to burst with happiness. ‘What do you say, Jen? Happy to stretch out on warm sand at Clifton Beach?’

‘So long as I don’t have to do any fishing. Hobart, hooray!’ Her eyes sparkled at the news of travel to the state capital.

‘I’ll camp with Tom and his friends around the bay for the first night and bring you back a haul of king flathead.
You and the kids and Nel can enjoy the beach until we get in. You lucky people can stay in a shack I’ve just found out about. I’ve already booked it, so we’re set for this weekend. We’ll leave Friday. Is that all right with you, Madame Ravens?’

‘
Oui, monsieur,
’ Lisette replied, making a small curtsy. ‘I’m so glad we’ll be together.’

Luc gave her a brief kiss. ‘I knew you would be. I
don’t ever want you to leave me, Mrs Ravens.’

‘That depends. Did you remember bread on your way through?’

He slapped his hand against his forehead. ‘Sorry. And I’ve also forgotten that Mr Barnes is outside. What’s he here for?’

Lisette looked at him half amused, her expression showing she was not in the slightest surprised. ‘Take a shilling from my purse, Harry. You can keep the change.’

‘Hey!’ Jenny said.

‘Have you forgotten the magazine subscription we renewed for you only a fortnight ago to that ridiculous fashion magazine?’

‘It’s not ridiculous, and yes, I had. You can keep all the change, Harry.’

‘You can come if you want – I’m just meeting Billy and Matt, probably.’

‘No, I think I’ll practise my roller skating. I want to at least win a place in the autumn competition. Besides,
I have to work out my outfits and pack for the beach.’

Harry took his shilling and was out the door in a flash, his mother’s voice calling behind as the fly screen smashed closed. In moments he and Barnes were rumbling down the gravel road over the hills that would take them into Lilydale.

Harry grinned. Matt and Billy were going to be so jealous of his trip south. Last week the three of them
had headed into the bush, not far away from Billy’s farm, and camped, hoping to trap some rabbits or get some practice in with their Diana air-guns. Starting a fire safely in a properly cleared area was harder than it sounded but they managed to cook a meal of sausages and eggs in a large fry pan. They saw only one brown snake the whole weekend but Matt chased it off with some pops of his airgun.

He was the only one of the three who would have to
leave the region and head into the city; his friends went to the local school in Lilydale but Luc had insisted Harry do his senior years in town at a private school. He didn’t really want to go but the truth was he loved the science labs. He didn’t care much for the itchy school uniform he’d have to get used to, or living in a dorm, and most of
all not waking up to the sounds of the Bonet cockerel, or a big slurpy lick from their border collie, Dash. He’d also miss his opportunity with Sally, whom he had just plucked up enough courage to ask out for a milkshake in Scottsdale. But most of all he’d miss his father. Luc was his world; Harry loved working alongside him now that he was bigger, stronger, and capable of tackling more responsible
tasks. The teenager was bursting with ideas, and if they got the tick from London, then they really could start implementing some of their bigger plans, one of which – his dream, actually – included perfume production.

It was the only reason he was tolerating boarding school. He knew Bonet’s could never become a perfumery unless he possessed the scientific skills of chemistry and how
to combine all the elements to produce a beautiful fragrance that women would want to wear and men would pay handsomely for. His education was a must if he was going to become the chemist he needed to be.

He was lost in his thoughts as Barnes chatted on about everything from the price of pork on the mainland to the local footy team. Harry tuned out, watching the gum trees pass in a haze of dry
green, grey trunks shedding their bark, kookaburras cackling distantly on the rim of his thoughts and a rope of liquorice on his mind. As they crested the final rise that would swoop them down into Lilydale proper, he
could make out Billy and Matt in the distance kicking a footy to each other. His grin widened. He would miss them when he had to leave next week but he wasn’t going to think about
that now. He was going to have the best holiday week of his life.

The smell from the town blacksmith of hot shoes being fitted on the trimmed hooves of horses enveloped him as Barnes pulled up. Harry then picked out the irresistible aroma of freshly baked bread, and knew it would be a challenge not to pull off a knuckle of it before he could get it home. He leapt out of the old ute and
deliberately kicked dust up over his mates. It was an ongoing joke between them.