Alexandra looked at him properly now she wasn’t overcome with unnecessary guilt. ‘It must have been very annoying but I didn’t know what else I could do to keep them safe.’
‘You could have forbidden them to go!’ said Véronique. Then she looked at the plate David had put in front of her: golden cheese sauce on toasted baguette, browned under the grill and sizzling. Her outrage subsided.
‘I think we have established that the children were safe,’ said Antoine calmly. ‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Alexandra.’
Chapter Twenty-four
Alexandra got up as soon as she was awake the following morning. She wanted to be first up, to take control, and also to see Antoine before Véronique was around to make things difficult.
She had seen to the animals, ground coffee, got the range going, washed up any remaining glasses from the previous night, set the table and put all suitable breakfast food on it and yet still jumped when Antoine appeared in the kitchen. She took a quick breath. Usually, she was a confident person, not afraid of anyone, but in the presence of Antoine she felt like a small child who’d done something naughty.
‘Good morning! Would you like some coffee? Then I could make you scrambled eggs?’ Too late she remembered they were in France and he probably wanted a croissant or bread and butter. ‘I haven’t been to the boulangerie.’
He regarded her in that slightly amused, slightly bemused way that he had, the way that set off the butterflies that had been perched in her stomach, ready for flight, ever since she’d first met him. She took another breath, wondering if she should open the conversation about the party or if she should leave it to him.
And then Véronique came in. ‘Good morning! How are you, chéri?’ she asked Antoine. ‘Alexandra.’ She gave her a formal nod and then sat down at the table. ‘Oh, no croissants?’ She looked questioningly at Alexandra and then gave a little laugh. ‘Ah non! I dare say you are suffering from la gueule de bois.’
Alexandra laughed politely at this pleasantry, which wasn’t intended to be pleasant at all. ‘Pas du tout! I drank very little alcohol last night, and none at the party. I have no hangover.’
‘Would you like me to fetch fresh bread and croissants?’ asked Antoine.
Véronique shook her head. ‘No, no. I wouldn’t put you to the trouble. Milou!’ She pulled away from the dog who’d decided to get up from his place in front of the range to check if there was anything likely to fall from a breakfast plate. ‘You seem to get bigger and bigger! I’m sure you’d be far happier living in a kennel outside. And as for the cats—’
‘They are Stéphie’s,’ said Antoine. ‘They have grown a lot since we went away but are still very – kitten-like.’
‘Of course I adore animals!’ said Véronique. ‘But they should be kept outside the house.’
‘I could go to the bakery and maybe collect Stéphie at the same time,’ suggested Alexandra, who suddenly wanted an excuse to leave. ‘Although you’d have to wait a little while for breakfast.’
‘I’m sure you have quite enough to do,’ said Antoine with an easy smile. ‘I’m more than happy to pick up Stéphie.’
‘I’d love to come with you! Little Stéphie is so sweet!’ said Véronique. ‘And, Alexandra’ – she said her name as if it were an honour that she’d remembered it – ‘I slept very well in that bedroom so maybe if you take your things out of it, I can stay there.’
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible,’ said Alexandra, her smile just as polite and cold as Véronique’s had been. ‘I have all my Christmas presents in there as well as my clothes. It would be quite impossible for me to move out permanently. Or even until the end of the Christmas holiday.’
‘Surely it’s only good manners to suffer a little inconvenience for your guests?’
‘Of course, but we have been planning a very charming room for you at the other end of the chateau, where we normally put guests.’ Alexandra realised she was making a rather grand statement here but ploughed on with it. ‘Félicité has been decorating the room. Ah, here she is! And Henri.’
Never had Alexandra been more pleased to see Félicité and Henri, who now felt like dear friends. ‘You’ve put a lot of work into Véronique’s room, haven’t you, Félicité?’
Félicité, whose hair needed brushing, nodded and sat down. Henri sat down next to her. No one spoke. Alexandra hoped that they weren’t suffering from a gueule de bois. They may well have had more alcohol at the party than she knew about.
Antoine surveyed the table. ‘I think maybe I will have scrambled eggs, Alexandra. If they are still available?’
‘Of course.’ Alexandra found the pan she liked best for eggs and put a large lump of butter in it.
‘Of course they are available if you want them!’ said Véronique, clearly thinking Antoine was being far too diffident about making his wants known. ‘If English people can indeed cook eggs,’ she added with a smile implying that they definitely couldn’t.
‘Can I have some?’ asked Félicité, reaching out for bread. ‘Oh, it’s yesterday’s.’ She withdrew her hand.
‘We don’t eat yesterday’s bread in France, you know,’ Véronique explained kindly, as if it were possible that Alexandra didn’t know this.
‘Yes,’ said Alexandra, her teeth beginning to clench. ‘But I can’t go shopping and scramble eggs. Not at the same time.’
She sent mental messages to David to come and take over the eggs so she could escape to the boulangerie to buy baguettes and pain de campagne and possibly a pain au chocolat, which she would eat in the car. They’d have to think about other meals too. Without Véronique and Antoine to be considered they’d planned very simple things so that attention could be paid to the Christmas feast. Now everything was going to be harder work and a lot less fun. Not that she’d think this if only Antoine had arrived unexpectedly early, of course.
David and Jack came into the kitchen when everyone except Véronique, who preferred to nibble on stale bread rather than anything Alexandra had produced, were eating eggs.
