The restaurant seemed full but the man in charge was there the moment Antoine opened the door. He obviously knew Antoine of old and the two men exchanged a few pleasantries before they were led to a table. Antoine nodded to many of the families and couples who were there. The restaurant was very crowded.
They were given menus immediately. ‘And for madame,’ said the owner, as he handed Alexandra hers.
Stéphie giggled. ‘That’s not madame, that’s Lexi.’
‘Bien sûr,’ said the owner and Antoine felt obliged to provide more detail.
‘Alexandra is the brave woman who has been taking care of my children while I’ve been away.’
Alexandra offered her hand and looked the man firmly in the eye in the hope that would stop any thoughts about her relationship with Antoine being anything other than professional. He shook her hand and bowed and left.
‘He thinks you are Papa’s girlfriend,’ said Félicité with a sigh.
‘It doesn’t matter what he thinks, does it?’ asked Alexandra.
Félicité shrugged. ‘Everyone here knows Papa. They’ll all be thinking the same thing. We come here quite often, but Papa has never brought a woman with him before.’
‘Let us just enjoy our lunch,’ said Antoine after a quick glance round the room. ‘Everything is fine. We don’t want to embarrass Alexandra.’
It was too late for that. Alexandra was indeed embarrassed. A bottle of champagne arrived at the table and now Alexandra became aware that the women were looking at her with speculation. She could only imagine what they were thinking: was this woman the right one for M. le Comte? Wasn’t she far too young? Had he finally found a replacement for the lovely Lucinda? She didn’t want to imagine what the men were thinking but consoled herself with the realisation that it was unlikely very many of them had met Lucinda.
Antoine clinked his glass against hers. ‘Here’s to you, Alexandra. Now drink up. Everything always looks better after a glass of champagne.’
She laughed and took a large sip. Too late she realised that although the tables were all crowded with bottles, theirs was the only table that had champagne on it. He must have ordered it specially. Everyone would have noticed.
Then the food started to arrive. Alexandra immediately understood why this unassuming restaurant was so popular – the food was superb.
There were hardboiled eggs served with tapenade, salty and full of olive flavour, a soup made with mushrooms and served with grated truffle (much to Stéphie’s delight), a green salad, and then a chicken casserole which made all the festive food they’d had the day before seem mundane and tasteless.
‘I love the fact you enjoy your food, Alexandra,’ said Antoine. ‘So many women think only of their figures.’
Alexandra was at that moment helping Stéphie extract a piece of bone from her bit of chicken. She turned back. ‘I’m glad I do something that pleases you. Quite often I think I just annoy you.’
‘You do many things that please me,’ he said and then directed his attention to his older children. ‘A little more wine and water for you both? Stéphie, do you want more lemonade?’
Alexandra picked up her wine glass, closer to blushing now than she had been before. His words had been simple enough and she knew she shouldn’t imagine they were particularly significant, but somehow they were. At least to her.
After the chicken, when Alexandra thought she couldn’t eat another mouthful, even to please Antoine, pears poached in red wine appeared, served with thick cream. After that came macarons and chocolate truffles.
‘I just want to go home and go to sleep!’ said Stéphie. ‘Is it all right if I pick my teeth in public?’ She had a paper-wrapped toothpick in her hand.
‘I’m not sure,’ said Alexandra. ‘Personally, I’d prefer it if you didn’t. Take the toothpick for later.’
Antoine laughed. ‘Your English nanny is very strict, chérie. I’ll go and settle up.’
Before he did that, however, he visited every table, exchanging news, making jokes, and looking back at Alexandra often. He’s explaining who I am, she thought.
‘Can I eat your second truffle?’ asked Henri.
‘As long as you’re not sick in the car on the way home,’ said Alexandra.
‘Ergh!’ said Stéphie. ‘Don’t be sick!’
‘I won’t be,’ said Henri. ‘Oh, look, there’s Jules. The boy you met at the party.’ He indicated someone who was sitting behind Alexandra.
‘Oh God,’ said Félicité. ‘I can’t have him seeing me like this! I’m probably bright red in the face, and I’m not wearing any make-up.’
‘It’s fine,’ said Alexandra calmly. ‘Look at me. Now laugh at something funny I’ve said. There! Now you look lovely. If you catch his eye he’ll be impressed.’
