Page 55 of The Christmas Star

‘S’il vous plait, entrez.’ Lucas gestured Theo and me through a set of French windows into the dining room.

With my hair still wet and in my supermarket-bought attire, I smiled at the two young couples looking back at us. Dressed in their finery, it appeared le Réveillon de Noël was a formal celebration. Nothing at all like the relaxed Christmas Eve my clothes represented.

‘Tout le monde, voici Theo et Erin.’ Lucas handed us both a glass of champagne. ‘Joyeux Noël.’

Lucas raised his glass and following his lead, I, too, drank and telling myself I’d earned it after the day I’d had, I savoured the champagne’s soft effervescence.

‘Let me introduce everyone. First, this is my daughter, Sabine…’

With her dark hair and tall stature, the family resemblance was obvious.

‘…and her husband, Henri.’

‘Enchanté,’ Theo said.

‘I keep asking, but they refuse to give me grandchildren.’ Lucas tutted and shook his head, but the glint in his eye belied him.

‘And this is my son, Gabriel, and his partner, Colette.’

‘Enchanté,’ Theo repeated.

As was customary in France, we were welcomed with a round of kisses.

‘These two are not married,’ Lucas said of Gabriel and Colette. ‘Apparently, they don’t believe in it.’

‘Papa!’ Sabine said. ‘Ils vont penser que tu es sérieux.’ She looked to Theo and me with a smile. ‘Il est impossible. Il taquine tout le monde.’

After the hunter incident I knew my limitations. My perimenopausal brain couldn’t have translated Sabine’s words even if it wanted to and rather than further embarrass myself, I simply smiled in response.

Theo inched closer and placing his hand against my lower back, gave me a reassuring wink.

What Theo didn’t know was that thanks to my colleagues at Foredale and Frogmore, being around people who talked in a foreign language wasn’t new. Crashy, rizz, no cap, dayger, crunk… These were all words I’d heard in the office staff room, none of which I understood.

I returned Theo’s comforting smile and although I wasn’t used to someone looking out for me, I couldn’t deny I quite liked it.

While everyone chatted, I focused on my surroundings and as expected, the house was to die for.

A glass chandelier hung above a long dark-oak dining table that had been laid in readiness for the evening, around which sat forest-green velvet seated chairs. Gold-framed landscapes adorned the walls and a tall antique display cabinet, home to various decorative pieces, stood proud. I loved the bronze figurine that sat on a plinth in the corner, but the masterpiece of the room had to be its huge stone inglenook fireplace. Wondering how they’d managed to get it alight, I stared at the humongous log that burned orange in its grate.

‘It is an old pagan tradition,’ Lucas said, seeing my interest. ‘Long ago, people burned the same log for days. They believed its ashes would protect the house and bring a good harvest in the year to come. These days, people eat Yule logs for dessert.’

Sophia caught my attention as she breezed into the room, looking stunning in her perfect make-up and long-sleeved, black form-fitting dress. Carrying a huge silver platter on which sat servings of oysters with a mignonette sauce, her eyes lit up when she spotted Theo and me. ‘Excellent,’ she said. ‘You are here?’ She placed the tray down in the centre of the dining table and addressing the whole group, double-clapped her hands. ‘Asseyez-vous.’

I followed everyone else’s lead and sitting mid-row, Colette was to my left and Theo my right.

‘Bon appétit à tous.’ Taking her seat, Sophia gestured we help ourselves and while Lucas got up and replenished our champagne glasses, we all dove in.

Colette leaned forward. ‘I hear you speak French, Theo?’

‘Oui, un peu,’ he replied.

One of the few schoolgirl terms I could remember, I let out a laugh. ‘And the rest.’ From what I’d heard with my own ears, Theo spoke way more than a little.

Colette smiled my way. ‘He is modest, yes?’

I picked up my cocktail fork and used it to detach an oyster from its shell. I spooned on some mignonette and bringing the shell to my lips, slid the meat and oyster liquor into my mouth. I might not have known how to speak my hosts’ language, but I knew about French oyster etiquette and instead of swallowing I lightly chewed. I swooned. It tasted of the ocean with a hint of nuttiness.

Theo leaned in. ‘Careful,’ he whispered in my ear. ‘You know what they say about oysters. I don’t want to be fighting you off later.’