‘I could.Pourquoi?’ He tilted his head to one side, clearly trying to work something out.
She made her sigh theatrically heavy. ‘I’m not very good at this.’ She stared up at the sky for a moment, hamming it up, as if she were considering things. ‘Alphonse, she really likes you – I’ve never seen her like this before.’ Which wasn’t really a lie because she didn’t know Fliss that well.
It was subtle but she saw it, a slight lift of his shoulders, a straightening of his spine, a tilt of his chin. It wasn’t exactly the preen of a peacock, more the puff of a pigeon, but it was enough to make her plough on.
‘But –’ Hattie put on her sad face ‘– she’s convinced you can’t stand her. If you could just perhaps be friendly, it would make her feel so much better.’ She was no actress – was she overdoing this?
‘But … she…’ Alphonse checked himself. ‘Has a very sharp tongue.’
Hattie waved his objection away with a waft of her hand. ‘That’s Fliss. She has four brothers. She’s not being rude to you.’ Now what did she say? She wished she’d planned this better.
‘Actually,’ she said suddenly, ‘It’s a sign of affection.’ Hattie beamed at him, wondering at the same time if any second she might descend straight to hell for her outrageous lies. Fliss’s tongue was sharper than her favourite knives. It didn’t matter who you were.
‘We’re going to Marc’s at six o’clock. Luc is driving us down. See you then?’
‘Mm,’ said Alphonse, nodding. ‘Why not?’ He scratched at his bristled chin. ‘Six o’clock, you say.’ She could almost see the cogs turning in his head.
Hattie nodded. Excitement fluttered in her stomach. She’d done it and he seemed to buy it. Proud of herself, she said, before he could ask her any questions or change his mind, ‘See you later, Alphonse.’
She almost skipped back to the château. She couldn’t wait to tell Luc it was all set up.
‘I think I’m going to wear my new dress this evening,’ announced Hattie when Fliss came into the library later that afternoon.
‘Sorry? I brought you some newmacaronsto try. What do you think?’ Fliss placed a plate of pretty shiny discs in front of her.
‘So dainty. Gorgeous,’ said Hattie, wondering how to reintroduce the subject of the evening’s apparel. Although if Alphonse did like Fliss he wasn’t going to care if she was in her usual cargo pants and T-shirt.
‘Taste them. Honestly, Solange is a genius. I always thoughtmacaronswere overrated. But these …’ She popped one in her mouth and waited expectantly for Hattie to do the same.
Hattie took one, slightly puzzled because she’d tried Fliss and Solange’smacaronsbefore. Fliss seemed to be dancing about a bit on the spot. ‘Delicious.’
Fliss perched on the edge of the desk, fiddling with one of the little boxes on the top. She fixed Hattie with an intense stare. ‘This place would make a fabulous venue for weddings, anniversaries, special events. Solange barely has anything to do and … well, I’d love to set up a business here. And you … you’re brilliant at organisation. I was thinking maybe … well, maybe we could put a proposal together to Luc. For us to run the place. What do you think? Wouldn’t you love to stay here?’ Fliss’s face shone with enthusiasm, her eyes starry with dreams.
Hattie stared at her. Stay here? She’d never even considered it. ‘Fliss, I hate to say this but it’s Luc’s home. He’s not interested in people getting married here, he wants to make champagne without the distractions.’
Fliss slapped her hand on the desk. ‘Stupid me. That’s the exciting bit. I forgot to say. We could make the venue famous for its champagne. There would be so many marketing opportunities. Luc could even consider a special wedding brand that’s exclusive to the bridal party…’ She bobbed up like a startled meerkat, her ideas running away with her. ‘And it would be exclusive to them in the future. Only previous bridal parties who had been to the château can buy it. And only they can buy it in the future. I just thought of that. I bet Luc would go for it. It’s not as if it would impact on the vineyard. And it would bring in income that they can invest.’
Hattie stared at Fliss. What had happened to her? Fliss was normally as sensible and practical as she was.
‘You want to stay here?’ What had brought this on?
‘Hell, yes. I’d love to. I suppose this is my way of thinking of a way to make it happen. I love it here. I love working in that kitchen. I feel so inspired and … I don’t know … it feels like home.’
‘But…’ This wasn’t real life, it was an interlude. A long holiday. Hattie had never even thought about the possibility of staying. Living abroad was one of those pipe dreams – normal people didn’t give up their jobs and everything familiar. It happened in films and books and thoseA Place in the Suntype telly programmes. Yes, it was nice here but it wasn’t real life. People had roles, responsibilities – they had … well, responsibilities. Sensible people did not up and move to another country on a whim.
‘Think about it, Hattie. I need to go. I’ve got another batch in the oven. Laters.’ And with that she disappeared, leaving the plate of pale pinkmacaronsin her wake.
Hattie shook her head, staring at the closed door. As if she could stay here. What a ludicrous idea.
‘Wow! You look nice,’ said Hattie when she came downstairs to find Fliss in an expensive-looking white linen sleeveless dress which accentuated her slim boyish figure. The three-inch spiked heels made her tanned legs look endless and several delicate silver bracelets emphasised long, slender arms. She’d arranged her straight blonde hair in an intricate braid down her back, leaving delicate tendrils curling around her face. With her masculine square-jawed face, no one would ever describe Fliss as pretty, but she was extremely striking, especially with the expertly applied make-up that drew attention to her bright blue eyes and her high cheekbones. She looked as if she’d stepped off the cover ofVogue.
Fliss shrugged casually, lifting her tanned swimmer’s shoulders. ‘I like dressing up every now and then, especially if there’s a good reason for it.’ She gave a wicked grin. ‘I wanted to make sure Alphonse knows he’s punching. Are we set?’
‘Yes, Luc is just bringing the car round.’
At the toot of a horn, they went outside to the front of the château and got into the convertible.
‘You look … nice,’ said Luc, his eyes widening in quick appreciation which Hattie didn’t feel the least bit jealous of. In fact, she was only surprised his tongue wasn’t hanging out. Fliss looked stunning.
