‘Well,’ Jacques continued. ‘We were so relieved that there was a reindeer at all.’ He put the corkscrew into the wine.
‘What are you doing?’ Orla snapped.
‘I am opening a bottle of wine to go with the Thai food. If Tommy and Erin do not eat it all. And, if they do, there is bread and cheese and paté that it will go well with just as happily.’
‘I’m leaving, remember,’ Orla said as the cork popped.
‘You have a flight?’ Jacques asked. ‘Tonight?’
Orla sighed. ‘No, because there isn’t one… for a few days but I will find somewhere else for us to stay in Saint-Chambéry, maybe even Delphine’s. Because I’m sure her story about the windows is just as fake as the pregnant reindeer.’
‘You will stay here,’ Jacques said, getting out two glasses.
‘No, I’m going.’
‘No. You will stay here.’
‘This isn’t a negotiation, Jacques.’
‘Good, then it is settled. You will stay here until you have a flight and then I will drive you to the airport.’
‘That wasn’t what I said.’
‘No, it is whatIsaid. And, like youdidsay, this is not a negotiation.’
43
Why did the wine smell so good? Even from this distance away, the scent was in the air as Jacques poured it into glasses. She needed some too, needed something to numb the news that this whole article was going to be so much harder to spin into anything Frances was going to need for her viewing figures when there was no calf in existence. He was holding a glass out to her now and of course she was going to take it. Even though she was furiously mad at him.
She took the glass and sipped. It was divine and she made a noise that gave away her opinion. ‘This is lovely.’
‘It is local. Infused with mountain wildflowers.’
She took another sip. It wasreallynice. And it was reminding her of something she couldn’t quite put her mental finger on. Jacques had pulled out a chair and sat down and, before she knew it, she was doing the same. Then they sat, silently, sipping the wine, their eyes dancing with each other like it was some kind of challenge as to who was going to break and speak first. Finally, she gave in.
‘Does Noble have foot rot?’
‘No,’ he answered. ‘That was something I made up to buy myself time to speak to Delphine about the reindeer being male.’
‘So, another lie.’
He shrugged. ‘If you like.’
‘“If I like”. Well, no, I don’t like. I don’t like being lied to at all.’ She swigged back some more wine.
‘Are you not glad that the reindeer is healthy? Being a lover of animals?’
‘Of course I’m glad he’s healthy,’ Orla said. ‘But I would really rather he was pregnant.’
‘And, when you first arrived here, I told you it was almost an impossibility that a reindeer could give birth at this time of year.’
‘So that makes lying to me later OK?’
He shook his head. ‘But I will apologise that I could not be honest with you.’
‘You could not be?’ She had jumped on his phrasing. She knew his English was excellent. That wasn’t what it was.
‘Yes.’
