She felt like laughing. All this anguish over a piece of bread. Dipping some into the oil, she popped it into her mouth and revelled in the explosion of flavours.
‘I love it,’ she said, allowing a grin to break out across her face. ‘Absolutely delicious, and this bread is divine.’
‘My recipe,’ said Léo, reaching for a third piece. ‘I will show you how to make it when we return to Feywood. No good for shaping into little owls, I’m afraid, but worth it anyway.’
As the meal went on, Juliet relaxed more and more. The conversation ranged from art to politics to food, of course, but with barely a pause until when the pudding arrived, Léo said:
‘Juliet, I want you to know some more about thefemme mariéeyou mentioned.’
Reddening, Juliet felt some of her old defensiveness return in order to conceal the embarrassment she felt about poking into his private life.
‘Oh, don’t feel you have to explain yourself to me…’
‘I do not feel this, but rather that I would like you to know.’
She shrugged, on the one hand desperate to understand what had happened, on the other terrified that he would tell her how much in love he was with the woman, and that it was only a matter of time until they were together.
‘I did not know at first that she was married, she kept this a secret. When I found out, it was a very confusing time, but I ended things with her, with Veronique, and I apologised to her husband. The marriage, it broke down anyway, and she has made some accusations about me in the press. They are all untrue, but I decided to leave France for a while, to hide away, I suppose. To be where I was not questioned about these painful things and to try and put some space between us. Please, think carefully about what you have read. I would rather you asked me than believed it.’
The first silence of the afternoon stretched out between them, and then Juliet spoke.
‘Thank you, Léo. I haven’t really read anything – my French istrop malto understand – but I had seen enough to…to…’
‘To question my integrity?’
She shrugged again.
‘You were right to do so. All of us make mistakes, but it is how we deal with those that matters, I think. My conscience, it bothers me, but I have done everything I can now.’
She nodded, then smiled.
‘Well then, maybe we should drink to doing our best.’
Despite her inclination to mistrust others, particularly men, Juliet looked across the table at Léo’s open, worried face and started to wonder if this might be a man she could rely on.
SIXTEEN
As they enjoyed a coffee after the meal, Emile came to join them and regale them with scurrilous and thoroughly indiscreet stories about the celebrities who had visited his restaurants over the years. The room emptied around them, and when they finally emerged, blinking, into the street, the light was fading. Juliet looked at the time and gasped.
‘Léo! I didn’t realise how long we’d been in there. We’ve missed our train by an hour.’
He laughed.
‘Ah well, poor horrified Juliet, what matter? We can find alternatives. Would you have made that lunch any shorter?’
‘Well, no, of course not, but how can it possibly have got so late?’
‘You are not used to forgetting to watch your clock.’
It was true. Even at some of the wildest parties she had been to, if she wanted or needed to leave by a certain time, Juliet kept control of things and made sure she was out on the dot, discarding a string of disappointed friends in her wake. Never before had she simplyforgottento check the time, especially with a train to catch.
‘That’s true, but we can still sort it out, there must be other trains we can catch.’ She took out her phone and started tapping away. ‘Oh yes, there are several. If we hurry, there’s one that will get us back to Feywood by about eight. What do you think?’
‘What I think is that we are having such a pleasant day, and that we are still celebrating your good news. Why not prolong it, rather than rush for a specific train?’
‘Oh! I suppose we could, but…’ She tapped away some more. ‘The trains get infrequent later and then it’s harder to get home from the station.’
‘Juliet, I am suggesting that we don’t go back to Feywood tonight.’
