This was the moment. ‘I’m actually a thirty-four-year-old divorcee,’ she said.
They were silent and the noise of the bar around them seemed to grow to emphasise this. Bella instantly wanted to take the words back. She’d heard what they thought about the ‘ancient’ landlord, Brad. She’d started to feel as if she might be making friends, real friends; she’d started to feel less alone.
Then Odette glanced at Henri and both turned back to her, grinning.
Henri laughed and raised his glass. ‘You are hilarious!’
‘Yes, this is what they call the British humour, yes?’ Odette said, smiling. ‘Where you say something completely ridiculous.’
‘I— um…’
But they had clearly decided.
‘Imagine!’ Odette said, shaking her head as if the idea were completely insane.
Bella remembered being that way when she was twenty. Everyone had seemed old to her then. People turning thirty had seemed utterly decrepit. ‘It’s true,’ she added, sending them into a renewed burst of laughter.
‘No, I—’ But it was no use. And as they laughed – perhaps not entirely getting the ‘joke’ but wanting to indulge her quirky British ways – she started to feel glad that they hadn’t taken her seriously. Right now, she needed friends. And these were the only people she had. She took a large gulp from her glass and moved the conversation on.
‘I’ll stay for a bit longer,’ she said.
An hour on, the place was buzzing with life and there was a feeling of fun and excitement in the air that seemed to surround the small groups of youngsters getting ready to head on to the clubs to continue their night out.
She had been worried about seeing Henri again, but he hadn’t mentioned a thing about the previous night and was acting as if the whole awkward encounter had never happened. She was more than happy to go along with the charade.
‘I’m sorry I can’t buy a round,’ she said as Henri signalled to the waiter to bring another bottle. ‘As soon as I get paid, I’ll?—’
But Henri waved his hand as if batting away the suggestion. ‘Non,it is all on my father in any case. He is pressuring me to help with his business. He says I should be representing the family. I have agreed to involve myself more but,’ he shrugged, ‘I am not very happy about it.’
‘Does he know that, though?’ Bella asked. ‘I mean, he can’t force you, surely.’
‘Ha. You haven’t met my father.’
‘No, but…’
Henri shook his head sadly. ‘My father has so much money, and it gives him power. As long as I toe the line, I get to use the credit card,’ and he waved the gold plastic card at her. ‘If I refuse…’ He drew his hand across his throat meaningfully.
‘Oh là là!’ Odette exclaimed in mock horror. ‘Your father will kill you!’
‘Non.Worse. He will cut me off financially, and then I will be working a terrible job at some hotel with Bella.’ He tipped his glass at Bella. ‘Sorry.’
Bella opened her mouth to correct him, to say that actually, she was a project manager. But it was all too complicated to explain.
‘When work is a pleasure, life is a joy. When work is duty, life is slavery,’ Henri said dramatically.
‘Oh no,’ Odette shook her head. ‘Please. He is starting to use literary quotes again. It always happens when he drinks.’
Bella laughed. ‘Well, he’s not wrong.’
‘Exactly. So I am a good boy for my father, and it means I keep my money and can continue my studies. But I have to exact my revenge in some ways.’
‘And you’re doing it by?—’
‘I have given myself a raise,’ Henri said. ‘Which means the drinks will always be on me.’ He grinned. ‘It’s a small revenge; my dad is a multimillionaire. But it is something.’
Odette laughed, clinked her glass against Henri’s brandished bottle. ‘I still don’t understand why you don’t take the job with your father, though.’ She turned to Bella. ‘Henri could be an executive, with very little responsibility and lots and lots of money. But he wants to be a professor instead and try to get students to understand Shakespeare and Molière.’
Henri looked serious. ‘Money doesn’t mean so much to me.’
