‘Thank you,’ she whispered, tilting her head upwards to meet his lips.
It was at that moment Yvette chose to come back into the breakfast room. ‘Ooh là là,’ she said with such exaggeration, Darcie was sure it was something she perfected just for English tourists. ‘It is hot in here, no?’ She went over to the windows and opened them wide. ‘I think we all need to cool down. So early in the morning as well.’
Darcie had to suppress a giggle.
‘Jesus,’ muttered Matt. He shook his head as he sat back heavily in the chair, but there was a grin on his face.
‘Jesus?’ repeated Yvette, making the sign of the cross. ‘What are you calling him for?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Now, I will let you get your things together so I can strip the beds as soon as you have left.’
Darcie exchanged a grin with Matt. Yvette was charming in her outspoken French way.
Matt straightened the expression on his face. ‘Actually, Yvette, we were wondering if we could stay another night.’
Yvette stopped fussing with the net curtains at the French doors. ‘Bien sûr.’ She looked at their hands, which Darcie realised were still entwined across the table. ‘Is it the one room or both rooms?’
Darcie dipped her head, not able to look at Yvette.
Matt cleared his throat. ‘Just the one tonight. My room?’ He looked at Darcie who shrugged to indicate she didn’t mind. He looked back at Yvette. ‘Just my room.’
Yvette pursed her lips, her forefinger pointing at their hands, she wagged it from side to side. ‘But for two people, no?’
‘Yes, for two people,’ said Matt.
Yvette smiled. ‘C’est bon.’ She said something else in French to Matt, which Darcie didn’t understand but caused Matt to tamp down a laugh. Then she left the room, humming Edith Piaf’s ‘Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien’.
‘What was that she said?’ asked Darcie.
Matt shook his head again. ‘You don’t want to know.’
‘I do! Tell me,’ insisted Darcie.
‘Words to the effect of what took us so long and could have saved her sheets if we’d stayed in one room last night.’
Darcie burst out laughing. ‘Oh my God, she’s hilarious.’ She paused and looked at Matt. ‘She does have a point though.’
Matt sighed. ‘She certainly does. But we shall just have to make up for lost time.’
Darcie grinned. And carried on grinning as they left the room to get her bag and toiletries from what would soon be the redundant bedroom.
‘I’m so nervous,’ said Darcie as she hopped from one foot to another in the car park of the care home. They had arranged to meet Elaine Vachon and her mother at eleven o’clock.
‘Nothing to be nervous about,’ reassured Matt, rubbing her upper arm. ‘Just be your usual charming self and all will be fine.’
‘I think you’re the charming one,’ said Darcie. She looked up as a car pulled into the car park.
‘Eyes looking,’ said Matt. ‘They’re here.’
Elaine was driving and her mother occupied the passenger seat. Elaine lifted her hand in acknowledgement and smiled, which Darcie took as a good sign. When they got out of the car, it was clear they were mother and daughter, the family resemblance of blonde wavy hair, blue eyes and a straight nose were evident. They even held themselves in the same way.
‘Thank you so much for coming,’ said Darcie in French. ‘I’m Darcie Marchant.’ She shook hands with each of the women, who then greeted Matt.
Paulette seemed pleasant if a little more guarded than her daughter but it was to be expected, thought Darcie.
Paulette spoke in French and Darcie guessed she was giving them instructions about the care home. She looked at Matt for confirmation who translated an abridged version.
‘Odile is expecting us,’ said Matt, ‘but Paulette said to remember she’s ninety-five and has been through a lot.’
The staff member in the nursing home reception greeted them, asking them to sign the visitors’ book and sanitise their hands. Once they’d all done that, she took them through to a small lounge that overlooked the lake. Darcie could make out the beach and the café on the other side where she and Matt had been the day before.
