Croissants and Jam (38 page)

Chapter Thirty-Three

    Cars are everywhere. The small bit of confidence I had felt earlier has all evaporated. My toe is throbbing in the shoes and my heart is beating so fast I think I might be sick. I park the car behind a dozen others and sit listening to the faint sound of music that emanates from the house. I had not wanted to arrive too early but now it seems like I am too late. I check my reflection in the mirror and convince myself that I look awful. I let out a nervous sigh and wish I had brought my Quiet Life. I take several deep breaths and climb from the car. Okay, think super model, and ooze confidence. I hobble towards the front door attempting my best Claudia Schaefer impression and fail miserably when my foot wobbles and the heel goes under.

    ‘Shit,’ I mumble.

    ‘Are you all right,’ asks a soft voice in broken English.

I turn and pain shoots through my foot causing me to grimace. I stare into the face of a very pretty woman who is wearing a black strapless dress in a way that I can only dream of. She throws a light pink shawl around her shoulders and looks warily at my foot. The will to live is slowly disappearing and I feel like I am the ugly duckling who has just bumped into Cinderella. I haven’t got a clue who the woman is, but feel almost sure she is romantically involved with Christian and feel a
Fatal Attraction
moment coming on. Does she have a pet rabbit that I can boil I wonder?

    ‘Did you hurt your foot?’ She smiles at me.

People are walking around us, and I hobble to one side.

    ‘Actually, I hurt it a few days ago, and these shoes are now murdering it.’

She laughs revealing white even teeth.

    ‘Take them off, no one will mind. I’m Maria by the way.’

I take the hand she offers.

    ‘I’m Bels. I am here on holiday.’

She slips her arm into mine.

    ‘Well, as my husband is late, why don’t we escort each other?’

She’s married. Thank God. For a minute I was convinced she was Christian’s girlfriend. What if he does have a girlfriend? What if I have got it all wrong? Oh my God, what if she greets us? The thought of getting through the evening with a false smile on my lips is unbearable. There is no going back now, however, as Maria is leading me towards the house and another car has parked behind mine, making it impossible for me to leave. I attempt to ignore the pain that is now relentless and look ahead to the twinkling lights. The soft melodic tones of Norah Jones reach my ears. Loud raucous laughter makes me jump. I am as nervous as a kitten. In fact, if Maria was not leading by the arm, I would most certainly turn back and hide. We walk round the back of the house and the marquee comes into sight. The smell of a hog roast makes my stomach rumble. Fairy lights lead the way around the field and I follow Maria into the marquee. Groups of people stand around laughing and chatting with
champagne flutes in their hand. To the right is a long table housing a mouth-watering buffet of roast duck on platters, surrounded by smaller plates of guinea fowl, French bread, cold meats, and egg segments. Further along the table are a number of bowls filled with different salads and sauces.

    ‘Hey, Maria, you made it. Where’s Jean-Paul?’ asks a man who I vaguely recognise and I try to remember where from.

    ‘Finishing that roof, where else do you think Monsieur? Bels, this is Alain, he laid all the floors in the house for Christian.’

Of course, I had seen him at the house.

    ‘Yes, I saw you yesterday.’

He smiles and salutes.

    ‘You probably did. Most of us here today have been doing something around the house the past few weeks. It has been hard work getting it done so quickly. It is great what Christian has done to show his, how do you say in English… gratitude?’

I nod. Talking of Christian, just where was he? I glance around but there is no sign of him. Maria waves at someone and rushes away. Alain grins at me and leans behind to the table with champagne. I shake my head when he offers me a glass. I really feel I need to keep a clear head for once in my life.

    ‘You would prefer water perhaps?’

    ‘Thank you.’

He walks away and I toddle outside to where a group has congregated by the bandstand. I watch as the musicians mount the steps and I wait in anticipation for them to start. More people join and the excitement builds. I find myself forgetting Christian for a few moments and sway with the music. It is a jazz band and I find myself smiling. It is only when I feel chilly that I venture back into the marquee where many are sitting eating. I look around for Christian and begin to wonder if he is actually going to make an appearance at his own party. I see Maria waving to me from a table at the other end of the marquee. I wave back and walk towards her.

    ‘We saved you a seat. There will be the speeches soon. This is Jean-Paul, my husband, and this is Matt Rivers.’

Jean-Paul is a small man with a big smile. His
brown eyes twinkle at me. I shake his hand and accept his offer of food. Matt grins widely at me and leans forward to take me into a big bear hug.

    ‘Nice to meet you Bels. I’m always thrilled to welcome a fellow Brit. I don’t know about you but I can’t speak a word of French. These bastards, however, insist on speaking their lingo when around me.’ He laughs.

    ‘That is because we are talking about you most of the time,’ smiles Maria and begins talking in French to Jean-Paul.

I quietly sit and eat my roast duck with sauerkraut.

    ‘I’m Christian’s PA by the way, probably should have said. What about you?’ Matt smiles and offers me some bread.

    ‘No, I’m not a PA,’ I answer seriously.

He laughs loudly and his cheeks dimple. I smile and wonder if I could ask him about the lawsuit. He seems very approachable.

    ‘I’m a friend of the family, well a friend of Simon’s actually.’

His expression seems to change and I think I see his face cloud over but very quickly he composes himself and is smiling again.

    ‘Ah, a friend of Simon’s. Well, do accept my condolences.’

I let out a small gasp and he shrugs.

    ‘I’m sorry, that was a bit rude.’ He looks sheepish.

    ‘Simon isn’t the one suing his father,’ I say bluntly and immediately wish I had kept my thoughts to myself.

He cocks his head to one side and studies me before reaching forward for some champagne. He pours some into a glass and hands it to me before refilling his own.

    ‘That is quite true, but when you have acquired three quarters of a law firm through dishonest means, I guess you don’t have to sue anyone do you?’

I stare at him.

    ‘I don’t understand.’

    ‘Well, that’s understandable if all your information came from Simon. As a family friend, however, you surely should know that Edward is no fool. Although having said that, he was a bit of a fool to trust Simon with the legal side. The guy has wanted full control of the business for years… Anyway, I have said too much. My loyalty is to Chris, so I apologise for being rude.’

    ‘But that is what Edward wanted,’ I say realising I sound as naive as I feel.

I feel my head spinning and wish I could phone Simon and ask him to explain everything.   

Maria watches us and smiles.

    ‘The food is very good, yes?’

I sip some champagne.

    ‘It is excellent,’ I agree.

She looks pleased.

    ‘My mother, me and my sister, prepare all the food today.’

I gasp.

    ‘You did?’

She nods proudly.

    ‘Yes, we did everything but the pig roast. The desserts are in the kitchen, you will like them.’

I almost ask her where the bloody hell the host is, when at that moment he walks in to cheers and applause. I feel my face redden and my heart quicken. He is every woman’s dream, at least I think so. I find I can’t take my eyes off him. He is wearing the Marc Jacob jumper and the memory of when I first saw him in the Sushi bar floods back into my mind. I watch as he grabs a piece of bread and then climbs onto one of the tables to more cheers. He raises his glass of champagne. Maria leans across to me.

    ‘How do you know Christian?’ she asks with a smile.

God, I must be so transparent. I pick my glass up with shaking hands and take a long gulp.

    ‘I almost married his brother,’ I answer honestly.

She looks wide-eyed at me and Matt seems to nod knowingly. I turn back to look at Christian who is asking for silence and holding a microphone in his hand.

    ‘I’m not going to ramble. I am really glad you are all here and I just want to say eat, drink, be merry. I am so grateful to all of you for all your hard work and for helping me get the house finished in record time.’

His lifts his glass and smiles broadly.

    ‘Santé.’

Everyone lifts their glasses and echoes ‘santé’. As they do Jean-Paul climbs onto the table. He takes the microphone, sending a loud squeak through the PA system.

    ‘I know I can say this in French as Christian, you speak our language very well, but we have quite a few British people here so I say it in English. Christian, we look forward to having you as a neighbour and we are very pleased you have chosen us over New York. Welcome to a future in Provence.’

There is more applause and I see Christian’s gaze land on me, and for a few seconds, our eyes lock. Then, as though nothing ever happened he holds his hands up for quiet again.

    ‘Thank you everyone, enjoy. One last thing, those of you who fed that damn cat, you’re not getting paid.’

There is much laughter as he jumps from the table. I wait hopefully for him to come over to me but instead he is eaten up by the crowd, and I lose sight of him. Please God, don’t let me have made the worst mistake of my life by coming this evening. I wait a few minutes longer but there is no sign of him. Any hopes I had of him approaching me are quickly dashed.

    ‘Shall I fetch you dessert?’ Maria asks while looking at me curiously. ‘Are you all right? You look a little flushed. Do you need water?’

I jump up, wanting the ground to open up and swallow me. I had made a terrible mistake. I had misread all his signals and worse than that I had been unbelievably vile and not even apologised. I grab my handbag and limp slowly towards the exit only to see it blocked by a crowd of people. I limp back and head for the other exit that leads to the side of the house. My foot is killing me and I am relieved when my phone rings and I can stop for a bit. It is Simon.

    ‘I have a missed call from you,’ he states bluntly.

I can hear airport noises in the background and memories of my first meeting with Christian rush into my head.

    ‘Simon, I am at Christian’s. Did you try to fiddle him out of the law firm?’ I answer equally as bluntly.

    There is a shark intake of breath and I curse. Sod it. Those awful things I had said about Christian having no integrity and being dishonest. How can I ever put them right?

    ‘I’ve admitted to making a mistake, didn’t he tell you that?’

Oh God. Me and my big mouth never actually gave him a chance to tell me anything. What an idiot I am.

    ‘I really didn’t think he would care. He’s got his business and God knows it’s doing a hell of a lot better than Dad’s law firm ever could. I just wanted some control. I didn’t think he would get so uptight about me having the larger majority. I’m sure if Dad could have done it that way he would have done...’

    ‘But your dad didn’t?’

I hear loud raucous laughter and someone calling Simon’s name.

    ‘Look, I have to go. All’s well that ends well, huh? Have fun.’

I click my phone off and feel wretched. I remove my shoes and continue until I am outside the back door of the house. I can see the desserts laid out on a large oak table.

    ‘Can I offer you dessert?’ asks a voice from behind me. I freeze unable to look at him.

    ‘We have croissants and jam. I remember how you liked croissant with your jam.’

I turn to see him looking playfully at me and I nervously pat my hair. He walks past and the familiar scent of him calms me. I hobble in to the house and watch as he cuts a croissant. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. He closes the door to shut out the music from the bandstand. My mouth is dry and my foot throbs unmercifully.

    ‘That looks nasty,’ he says, pointing to my toe. ‘You never did say what happened.’

He spoons jam onto the croissant and hands it to me, pulling out a chair as he does so. I flop down into it and sigh. He sits in another next to me and cuts a slice of cake.

    ‘I slammed the car door on it,’ I say, and then blush.

    ‘Well, that’s the kind of thing you do isn’t it?’ He grins at me and bites into the cake. ’I bet the air was blue that day.’

I shake my head in exasperation.

    ‘You’ve not lost your appetite I see,’ I retort.

    ‘That’s a nice top,’ he says softly, not looking at me.

My stomach is churning and not even the fresh cream trifle can tempt me.

    ‘About my vile tongue…’ I begin, wondering if there is a chance in hell of putting all this right.

    ‘Yes, not your best quality, I have to agree. You have a lot of nice qualities but the vile tongue and filthy temper does tend to erase those from one’s mind.’

I sigh. Why is he always so bloody irritating?

    ‘It’s just I thought…’

    ‘I know what you thought,’ he interrupts passing me a slice of cake. ‘You really should try the desserts, or is there another dress you are struggling to get into?’

I smile awkwardly.

    ‘You’re not suing your dad?’

He shakes his head.

    ‘Right now, I’m not suing anybody. But, I would have gone through with it if Simon had not seen sense. As it happens he finally did. Frankly, the truth is I couldn’t care less about the firm. I don’t mind admitting that everything I know about law can be written on the back of a postage stamp. He is welcome to run the place but Dad wanted his two sons to own the business and that’s what mattered to me. Simon’s welcome to be in charge but I wanted everything to be morally right for Dad’s sake. ’