‘Very similar. I think it’s important that you look glamorous for Stéphie’s birthday party. She’d like that.’ He was very firm.
‘Would Stéphie care? She wants a party and presents. She won’t care what I look like.’
‘Well, I care. I didn’t like the way Lucinda was referring to you.’
Alexandra smiled at David, thinking how much she appreciated having him in her life, to look out for her, to make her laugh, everything really. Then another worry occurred to her. ‘Supposing Antoine hasn’t got a present?’ She jumped and blushed as Antoine came in.
‘It’s all right. I may have got the day wrong when I was making my travel plans, but I have got my daughter a present. I told you.’ He sounded offended and haughty at the same time.
‘Oh yes, so you did,’ said Alexandra. ‘Let me know if you’d like me to wrap it for you.’
‘It’s wrapped already,’ he said. ‘They did it in the shop in Paris when I bought it when I was last there. Véronique helped me choose it. She’s very caring when it comes to my children.’
‘Jolly good!’ said Alexandra in English, glimpsing David rolling his eyes out of the corner of her own. ‘I’ll go and get dressed now.’
The party was to start at four o’clock, teatime in England. Everyone was dressed up in their best, apart from Félicité, who was going to wear her jeans if it killed her and everyone else around her. She came down the stairs last, when everyone else was waiting in the hall.
‘Félicité!’ said Antoine. ‘Please! Put on a dress. You know your grandmother won’t be pleased to see you in jeans.’
‘She won’t mind!’ said Félicité with a toss of her head to indicate she didn’t care. Although of course she did, Alexandra could see. She was fifteen and wanted to tell the world it was up to her what she wore, but she also wanted her father’s approval.
‘Why don’t you put on that pretty pendant that Grand-mère gave you?’ asked Alexandra. ‘She’d be so pleased to see you wearing it.’
Félicité went back upstairs to put on the little gold symbol on a chain and Alexandra turned to Antoine. ‘Just let her be. It doesn’t really matter what she wears; this is Stéphie’s day.’ She spoke quickly, hoping he didn’t think she was being presumptuous; she was a paid employee after all. Antoine was looking serious.
‘Can I sit next to you in the front?’ asked Stéphie. ‘It is my birthday!’
‘That’s a brilliant idea,’ said Alexandra. ‘Here’s Félicité! Let’s all pile in. Just as well David went earlier. We’d never have managed to fit.’
‘It’s good that the kittens are having a nap,’ said Stéphie, ‘or they may have wanted to come with us.’
‘Milou will look after them,’ said Alexandra and slid across the bench seat so she was sitting in the middle.
‘You’re looking very smart, Lexi,’ said Félicité, possibly grateful to her for having stuck up for her. ‘I haven’t seen those clothes before. And your hair looks very elegant in its chignon.’
Alexandra patted the back of her head, checking for escaping tendrils. ‘Well, all my smart clothes are in Switzerland and David bought me this jacket from the brocante. It’s Chanel! I put my hair up properly for once because it seemed only right that I should, for the jacket. But does it smell OK? Will your mother take one sniff and say, “Ugh! How unpleasant! It maybe couture, but it’s still second-hand!”’
Félicité laughed. ‘That’s exactly what she’ll say.’ She sniffed. ‘And then she’ll say, “And soaking it with cheap eau de cologne doesn’t help!”’
Alexandra was giggling now. ‘I did slosh quite a lot on. And she’ll probably tell me my pearls are obviously fake, too!’
Antoine turned round and looked at them, his expression one of complete bafflement. ‘In France, women don’t make jokes about clothes; they are too important,’ he said. ‘And it is considered bad form to be disrespectful about your mother.’
Alexandra and Félicité exchanged rueful glances, both trying not to laugh.
‘So best behaviour, please,’ he went on. ‘OK?’
‘Sorry,’ said Alexandra, not at all ashamed. ‘We’ll be good, I promise.’
She could tell from the back of his head that he was laughing too.
Everyone was in a very good mood when they arrived at Grand-mère’s elegant townhouse. Jack opened the door, holding it wide with a big smile. Inside it was en fête with flowers and candles, everything arranged to look festive and celebratory.
‘Oh, I’ve never seen Grand-mère’s house like this before!’ whispered Stéphie, looking around her in awe.
‘It’s for your birthday,’ explained Alexandra.
Félicité looked at her. ‘We’ve had birthdays here before, you know, and Grand-mère has never put out candles and bowls of sweets.’
