‘What about Yvette’s wedding?’ piped up Marthe. ‘I don’t see why we all have to miss it. You two should go. Perhaps you could take that to her. I happen to know there’s plenty more where it came from.’ She nodded to the dusty bottle beside her.
ChapterForty
‘Hattie, Luc!’ Solange jumped to her feet, spotting them as they entered the restaurant. She swayed tipsily on the spot, waving a half-full champagne flute.
‘Yay, you’re here,’ called Fliss, taking a swig straight from a champagne bottle as she sat on Alphonse’s lap.
Around twenty people were seated at a long table which took up the entire restaurant. The place was closed to other patrons. Empty fat-bottomed bottles, running in a line along the centre of the table, and discarded napkins were testament to the celebration. Fairy lights twinkled from where they were draped across the rustic beams of the ceiling, peeking out from trailing vines wrapped around the wooden trellises. For some reason there were two large cardboard cut-outs of Yvette and Bertrand to which had been pinned varying sizes of envelopes with their names on. Hattie assumed they contained wedding gifts of money. She thought it a lovely idea.
Everyone began to cheer as they walked in, hand in hand, including Yvette and Bertrand, who were sitting at the head of the table like the king and queen of the day. It felt as if she and Luc were triumphant heroes returning from a mission. Everyone was clearly pleased to hear that Marthe was going to be all right. They’d phoned the restaurant owner as soon as they’d left the hospital, to ask him to let the wedding party know that Marthe was fine. All the same, as they walked to the two empty seats next to Fliss and Alphonse, several people called out, asking after her.
‘She’s okay,’ said Luc, reassuring them several times over.
Blundering into a chair, Solange wiggled her way through the seated guests who’d pushed their chairs back from the table and threw her arms around them both in a group hug. ‘I’m so ’appy to see you.’
Hattie hugged her back.
‘You are staying,non?’
‘I’m staying,’ she replied, her heart bursting with sudden happiness.
‘She’s staying,’ yelled Solange in an uncharacteristic outburst that had both Hattie and Luc laughing.
Yvette rose to her feet, her face flushed with joy and champagne. She lifted her glass. ‘A toast to Hattie. Everyone fill your glasses. I want to say thank you for making my day so special.’ She paused and then added with a self-deprecating grin, ‘Especially when I was such a bitch to you.’
Hattie laughed. ‘It’s okay. By the way, did you know mouse poo is quite different from rabbit poo?’
Yvette burst out laughing. ‘It was not nice collecting it all.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘It was a good punishment, no? Come, sit down. Drink some champagne.’
‘We have a gift for you, from Marthe,’ said Luc and raised the bottle of champagne from the cellar. ‘She would like you to open it today.’
There was a sudden hush in the room. Everyone turned to stare at the bottle with silent reverence as Luc handed it to Yvette. Alphonse had clearly already relayed the tale of how they’d found the cellar and the treasure hidden there.
‘Everyone must have a taste,’ she said and turned to her brother. ‘Everyone will share a glass with their neighbour, I think. And you, Alphonse, must open it.’
Alphonse, wide-eyed with delight, took the bottle as Fliss shifted from his lap.
‘Fresh glasses,’ he called and someone scurried to the bar, collecting flutes on a tray.
Alphonse placed the bottle on the table and took one of the napkins. He carefully untwisted the wire securing the cork. Luc wrapped an arm around Hattie, pulling her closer. Everyone watched, breath well and truly bated, as Alphonse positioned the napkin over the naked cork and held it in one hand, using the other to twist the bottle.
As the cork was eased out with a satisfying pop, everyone cheered and began to clap.
Alphonse put the bottle back at the table and silence fell as the entire room stared at it, the anticipation almost palpable.
‘Luc,’ he said, with great ceremony. ‘You must have the honour. To pour and the first taste.’
‘Yes,’ said Solange. ‘It is your birth right and Marthe would want it, I know she would.’
Luc smiled and Hattie felt a delicious stab of love and pride as he squeezed her hand, gave her a kiss and then stepped forward. She watched as he carefully lifted the bottle and lined up ten glasses, and saw his Adam’s apple dip as he poured the first glass. The room was so quiet, she thought that everyone could probably hear the gentle fizz of the liquid as it cascaded into the glass. Luc held it up to the light and tipped the flute this way and that.
‘Good colour,’ observed Alphonse as Luc dipped his nose into the glass.
‘Aromas of caramel,’ he pronounced before taking a sip. He closed his eyes and everyone watched as he swilled the liquid in his mouth.
When he opened his eyes, everyone in the room craned forward waiting for his verdict. A slow smile spread across his face before he nodded. ‘Biscuit and honey.’ He beamed. ‘It’s good.’
There was another burst of spontaneous applause and everyone began talking excitedly as Luc poured the champagne into the other glasses. Solange stepped forward to hand them out.
