Biarritz Passion: A French Summer Novel (28 page)

‘Oh!’ the exclamation burst from Caroline’s lips. She’d been expecting some gentle brown and white creature with velvety eyes and a bell round its neck. But this beast had shot out of its pen like a tornado, nearly dragging the rope haulers off their feet. This was a cow like she had never seen before, an entirely different species. It tore around with astonishing speed. The men holding the ropes, heels dug into the ground, were towed helplessly along behind it.
The crowd roared in delight. It was like a Wild West rodeo.

Finally the animal came to a halt. It stood, head lowered, examining its surroundings with an air of cunning. Then, menacingly, it pawed the ground with its front hoof and tossed its head into the air, swinging its wickedly curving horns. Catching sight of the
é
carteurs
it paused for a moment, immobile, watching them. Then in a split second it was off, raising clouds of dust in the arena. The MC meanwhile kept up a running patter, bringing appreciative laughter from the audience. His accent was so strong that Caroline could only catch the occasional word. Edward, leaning even closer, translated. Apparently the cow was called Victorine, and she was an old favourite, very fast on the turns. The commentator prophesised a few pairs of ripped trousers before the evening was out.

Finally the rope men managed to get Victorine into position for the first pass. Caroline held her breath as she looked at the
small figure in white who stood with his back to them, facing Victorine. His arms were raised as he confronted the pawing animal at the opposite side of the ring. For a moment all was stillness, then in a swift furious rush the animal passed like a violent gust of wind, its horns missing him by inches as he swayed out of its path with a minute inclination of the torso and a graceful swing of the hips.
Olé!
The crowd roared its approval but the MC was not impressed. Snapping his braces and feigning boredom he exhorted the
écarteur
not to be so nervous. Surely he could do better than that! There had been at least two metres between him and the horns!

Amid laughter and boos, the
young man
positioned himself once more in the path of the beast. This time man and animal appeared to touch for a brief second. Caroline shut her eyes. When she opened them again the
écarteur
was still standing, his white shirt unmarked by the slightest trace of red. The miss had been narrow, but a miss. There were cries of ‘Bravo’ as he bowed to the public before leaving the ring to make way for his successor. Caroline was so carried away, clapping wildly, that she failed to notice Edward’s look of amusement until he took her hand once more. Their eyes met and she came back to earth.

‘Enjoying yourself?’

‘Oh yes.’

The way he was looking at her filled her with a rush of wild happiness. As if in unison, they moved closer on the bench, bodies touching as they turned back to watch. Just before the interval, a young boy stepped into the ring. Caroline recognised the
sauteur
, the ‘bull’ leaper Edward had pointed out earlier. He looked very small compared with the huge mass of powerful muscles palpitating on the opposite side of the arena. She heard the thudding of hooves, felt around her the expectant silence of the tense crowd. When she thought she couldn’t possibly watch for a second longer she saw a white figure soar into the air above the animal’s broad back, a graceful seabird taking flight. The boy landed without a sound, both feet together and sprang upright, his arms raised in a gesture of salute. There was a collective gasp of relief before the applause broke out. He repeated his amazing performance half a dozen times, running fearlessly towards the charging animal to leap headlong over its back, sometimes turning a somersault as he passed above the thrusting horns, and once performing his leap with both ankles strapped together, in a seemingly effortless bound. She had never seen anything like it.

‘I think we need a drink.’

It was the interval. People were stirring, climbing down through the tiered seats, heading towards the refreshment stalls.

‘Do they do blood transfusions?’

Edward laughed as he pulled Caroline to her feet.

‘I’ll come with you,’ said JP.

‘Me too, I need the loo.’

Annabel got to her feet swaying slightly.

Julian and Claudette agreed to stay and keep their places.

‘Don’t forget my ice cream,’ called Claudette. ‘Chocolate and pistachio. And don’t let it melt!’

As the four of them made their way towards the refreshments tent, Annabel suddenly slipped in between Jean-Paul and Edward, linking her arms with theirs in a gesture that was embarrassingly girlish.

‘Well I must say, that was brilliant
. Now I need a big big glass of wine. I’m so thirsty. ’

Both Edward and JP had stiffened involuntarily. JP gave her a suspicious look.

‘Darling!’ laughed Annabel. ‘What’s the matter? Let’s have a good time! We never celebrated your win yesterday.’

She seemed to have completely forgotten what had happened at the
café du Fronton.
Caroline felt her anxiety come back in a rush.

‘Beer, coke, what would you like?’

Jean-Paul had stopped in front of a stall.

‘
Coke please,’ said Caroline, still casting nervous glances at her sister.

The barman put their drinks into a little cardboard tray. Annabel drained her glass of wine and before they could move away said she’d have another one.

‘Steady on, Annabel.’

She looked at Edward with a little pout and held out her empty glass to the bar man for a refill.

That’s it, thought Caroline, remembering the bottle of ‘water’. She’s drunk. Now what?

As if in answer to her question, Annabel suddenly put her hand over her mouth and her eyes started to roll up.

‘Get her over here,’ said Jean-Paul.

He thrust the tray into Caroline’s hands while he and Edward half supported Annabel to a spot away from the crowd. She was violently sick into the grass.

‘Oh Edward, I’m so sorry,’ she said, straightening up with a groan. ‘Everything’s my fault. I feel so dreadful. What are we going to do about Julian?’

She flung her arm round Edward’s neck and fell heavily against him. She seemed to have forgotten all about the other two.

‘I’ll call a taxi,’ said Caroline. ‘Take her back to the villa.’

Her sister looked round, frowned.

‘I don’t want a taxi. And I don’t want to go back with
you
.’

She spat out the last word.

‘Eddie, please don’t leave me. I need to talk to you. You know we need to talk. We have...’ her voice slurred, ‘we have
things
to talk about, remember? You and me?’

The
green devil poked his trident into Caroline’s heart. What did she mean, things to talk about? She tried to shake off her unease. Annabel was still obviously the worse for drink.

Edward had taken the
top off the bottle of water. He sniffed, then poured the contents on to the ground.

‘What are you doing?’ protested Annabel, voice rising.

‘Go back to the others,’ he said, his face expressionless. ‘I’ll take care of it.’

‘No, I’ll stay,’ said Jean-Paul.

‘I don’t want you! And I don’t want her! I want Edward! Darling Edward, you’re the only one who understands, they’re all
so mean!’

Edward was struggling to hold her upright.

‘I’ll get some coffee into her. Take Caroline back JP. Make some excuse to Julian.’

‘Huh! Julian! He just wants to go to
Frankfurt, silly old Frankfurter. But you’ll look after me, won’t you Eddie? Remember our secret? What you said that day, you promised!’

The green devil gave another poke
, extra-sharp. Jean-Paul was looking at his cousin.

‘Shhh, Annabel, everything’s going to be OK. Now let’s get you that coffee.’

Could things get any worse? It was like being on a roller-coaster. One day Annabel was charming, the next she seemed possessed by a spirit of malevolence, determined to ruin things. And what was all that stuff about secret promises?

‘Come on, Caro.’ Jean Claude took the tray of drinks from her hands. ‘Better get Claudie another ice cream, this one’s melted.’
He hesitated. ‘Maybe give Edward time to get that coffee first.’

‘What are we going to say to Julian?’

‘Just keep pretending everything’s OK. Again. Poor bloke. What a mess.’

It was the first time Caroline had seen him look serious. As for herself, she felt exhaust
ion hit her like a brick wall.

Edward and Annabel had bumped into some friends. That’s what they told Julian and Claudie. It was clear from Claudie’s expression that she wasn’t buying it, but she quickly joined in with the charade, pestering Julian to take a lick of her ice cream, teasing him about his clothes which she said made him look like Prince Charles, pulling up his trouser leg to laugh at his socks.

‘You are the only man tonight wearing socks,’ she told him. ‘Especially socks with a diamond pattern! Imagine Julian, if you had fallen in love with me all those years ago, I would have reformed you! Tonight you would be wearing espadrilles and a very beautiful red beret!’

In the end she had him blushing and laughing. Caroline and JP exchanged looks of relief.

Whatever Edward had said to Annabel, however many coffees he’d forced her to drink, it had seemed to work. Annabel was pale, subdued, but reasonably sober. She sat down next to Julian, with a glance at Edward, who had taken his old place next to Caroline.

There was a bustle in the arena, an air of expectation. The MC was conferring with his colleagues, getting ready for the next part of the show.

‘Look, it’s Dodo and Antoine.’

Claudie waved.

The two of them were standing just outside the ring, looking up.

They pointed at Edward and Jean-Paul, then at the ring, eyebrows raised.

‘Uh oh,’ said Claudie.

‘
Mesdames et Messssieurrrs
!!! The moment you have been waiting for! The
pièce de
résistance!
The cherry on the cake!’

Antoine and Dominique were gesturing urgently now.

Edward looked at his cousin.

‘We’re going in?’

‘We’re going in.’

Jean-Paul got to his feet, followed by Edward. The two of them started vaulting from tier to tier, along with several other men, most of whom seemed to know each other. There were thumps and pushes and jesting.

‘What’s happening?’ said Caroline.

‘They’re going into the ring. With Victorine.’

‘What?’

‘Oh don’t worry. There’ll be lots of others with them.
They do it every year. We shall see how fast they run when Victorine raises one eyelash in their direction.’

‘Isn’t
it terribly dangerous?’

Annabel had come to life and was watching Edward and Jean
-Paul. Her lips were half-parted and a flush had come to her cheeks.

‘Oh it is nothing, just fun and games. They’ve been doing it since they were kids.’

‘But...doesn’t anyone get hurt?’

Annabel still had that strangely excited look on her face.

‘It’s only a cow. They maybe get a bump, a scrape. It’s like any sport. Look, here come the clowns.’

She pointed to a group of men in baggy trousers standing by the commentator’s box.

‘Clowns? Bull-fighting clowns?’

‘
Cow-fighting clowns, Julian. I told you, it’s for kids. The cow sees the clowns, sometimes she is so surprised that she just shrugs her shoulders and goes back to her box.’

Claudette winked at Julian and did an imitation of a snoring
cow.

The music started, the clowns entered the ring carrying a large bathtub. Victorine watched suspiciously, tail swinging back and forth. The clowns approached with sponges. There were four of them. Victorine looked behind her. Quick
ly the clown in front of her gave her a rub with his sponge. Victorine turned indignantly, giving the others time to dart in and continue the bath. The antics went on until Victorine had had enough whereupon she chased them out of the ring, managing to rip the baggy trousers of one of the clowns so that he had to hop and scuttle to safety, the crowd roaring with laughter and rooting for Victorine.

There was a sudden flurry, and Caroline’s heart did a flip as she saw Jean-Paul and Edward jump over the barrier, along with Antoine and Dominique and a dozen others. She suddenly became aware of Annabel’s voice, strident and insistent, saying something to Julian.

‘Go on! Go on Julian! I want you to do it as well! Go on down there!’

Annabel’s eyes were glittering. She was pushing at Julian, hard little pushes, repeating the same words.

‘Annabel! Steady on! What’s the matter? Calm down darling for God’s sake!’ Julian was holding Annabel’s arms, his face anxious.