Alexandra considered his offer. ‘You’ve been travelling though – for two days in fact.’
He shrugged.
‘How did you get here, Justin?’ asked Antoine.
‘I took the ferry from Southampton and drove down through the Auvergne. I stopped on the way, though – I’m perfectly fit enough to cook for a few people.’
Alexandra nodded. ‘In which case, that would be wonderful. But you must have a siesta, Meg.’
Meg realised this was Alexandra’s code for saying she should lie down and think about her future.
To her surprise, once in her cool room, with the shutters closed, Meg fell asleep. She’d just wanted to rest her feet for a bit and think about things but instead she had drifted off. It was after six o’clock when Stéphie went into her room.
‘Time to wake up! We’re eating outside. I’ve been helping Justin. Henri and Félicité have both got friendswith them. David and Maxime are arriving any minute. Everyone is drinkingcrémantwhich isn’t champagne.’
‘I’ll just change,’ said Meg. ‘But I’ll be really quick, I promise.’
‘Are you going to put make-up on?’ asked Stéphie, obviously not considering her job was done.
‘I don’t wear much make-up.’
‘Nor does Lexi, except sometimes,’ said Stéphie. ‘You could borrow hers if you wanted.’
Meg thought for a moment. ‘I won’t bother with the make-up.’ It was too late for that; Justin had seen her too many times without it. ‘But if Lexi has got any perfume you don’t think she’d mind me borrowing, I’d love that.’
‘Her favourite is Bien-être but Papa says it’s not proper perfume because it comes in such large bottles. I think you should borrow her Miss Dior – that’s my favourite.’
‘Whatever you think is best. And then, when I’ve put it on, would you come down with me?’
‘Of course!’ Stéphie frowned. ‘Are you feeling nervous? It’s just us, really. I found out that Lexi felt nervous when she first came to us as our nanny, but you would never have guessed.’
‘Lexi is very brave,’ Meg agreed. ‘I’m not.’
‘I expect you’re brave in a different way,’ said Stéphie kindly. ‘I’ll go and get the perfume.’
If Alexandra had been trying to send a message to Meg that Provence was the place to be, she couldn’thave done a better job. Outside there were jam jars with candles in them hanging from the trees as well as all up the centre of the long wooden table, now covered with a linen cloth.
A little way away from the table, Henri was playing a guitar. A few young people were gathered round and a teenage party was going on.
Nearer the dining table stood a small table and chairs. David, Maxime and Antoine were sitting, drinking wine and chatting. A faint smell of Gauloises cigarettes mingled with the scents of the evening. There were bowls of olives and nuts scattered around and it reminded Meg of a picture in a magazine: beautiful people and a perfect setting with a chateau as a backdrop. She wondered if she could create something similar at Nightingale Woods and then remembered that she might not be going back.
Alexandra emerged from the kitchen, large platters in either hand. ‘À table!’ she said, setting down her dishes on which sat two huge quiches surrounded by lettuce leaves.
Justin followed with jugs of wine and a knife with which he divided the quiches.
David was there to pass the plates down the table and the others followed to take their places.
Not sure how it happened, considering she was making sure it didn’t, Meg ended up sitting next to Justin. But he was on his best behaviour and just smiled at her in a friendly way. This was a bit unnerving, but Meg could hardly complain. She smiled back, knowing she must look awkward. Beingin a group and behaving normally together was unusual for them. It was a sign they shouldn’t be together, thought Meg. But she didn’t think she could move when Justin got up to deal with the main course.
Justin had served chicken garnished with little onions, tomatoes and artichokes before he turned to her, obviously about to speak.
Meg said, quickly, ‘This is so lovely, isn’t it? Eating under the trees, the candles, the long table, everyone together.’
‘It is,’ Justin agreed. ‘So French. We could reproduce it at the hotel, although we don’t often have the right weather.’
Meg swallowed quickly. This was exactly what she had been thinking. ‘But if we did – and we do get heatwaves in summer sometimes, even in England – we could set up some tables outside, put candles in jam jars, just like Alexandra has.’ Too late Meg realised she should have answered in a non-committal way or not at all. She hadn’t decided what she wanted to do. Talking about the hotel might give Justin the impression that she had.
‘We could build a pergola and grow roses up it – Ambrosine would like that – and as long as it was wide enough so people didn’t catch their clothes on the thorns it could be really romantic,’ said Justin.
