Page 31 of The Riviera House Swap

At the very least, she had a month ahead of her in this glorious place, taking the time to re-explore the destination of her childhood, to enjoy the clement(ish) weather, to take in the scenery and thoroughly reset. At best, well, it seemed in that moment, anything was possible.

Turning onto the empty street that led to Jean-Luc’s, she noticed that something had changed. There was a van – an ancient VW camper in a mid-blue colour – parked haphazardly against the kerb, one wheel on and the rest off, making the poor machine lean at an odd angle. It was probably someone visiting one of the neighbours, but it seemed odd that the camper had been parked directly outside the home she was borrowing for four weeks.

She increased her pace, the spring disappearing momentarily, until she reached the end of the pathway that led to the house’s front door. There on the step was a woman who looked to be in her twenties, her hair bundled on top of her head, wearing khaki combat trousers, a vest top and with an enormous rucksack at her feet. She was smoking a cigarette and staring off into the mid-distance, and at first, she didn’t notice Nina at all.

‘Are you OK?’ Nina said in French. She wanted to say a sharp,Can I help you?as she might in English; the sort of phrase that looks fine written out, but delivered with the right tone can actually meanWhat the flip are you doing on my front steps?But she lacked knowledge of current French sarcasm and wasn’t sure whether the words would work in translation. She’d probably end up having to help the woman with something by default.

The woman looked up, blowing a plume of smoke out of the side of her mouth. Nina had never smoked, and never wanted to, but just for a minute, she wished she could look as cool and nonchalant as this woman did as she regarded Nina and casually expelled a cloud of fumes.

‘No, perhaps I can help you?’ she said. ‘Are you here to see Jean-Luc?’

‘No,’ Nina replied. ‘I’m staying here at the moment.’

The woman arched an eyebrow. ‘Then you are Jean-Luc’s friend? A special friend, perhaps?’

Nina wondered why the woman felt entitled to ask her any questions at all. She was staying here legitimately, and if this person – an ex-girlfriend, perhaps? – didn’t even know Jean-Luc well enough to have learned he was away in the UK, she couldn’t have that close a relationship with him.

‘Not at all,’ she said, trying to keep her tone cool. ‘I’ve… Jean-Luc has offered me his house to come on holiday.’ She felt the inadequacies of her language. What was the current French vernacular for ‘house swap?’

‘He let you stay here?’ The woman looked surprised. She stumped the cigarette out on the step. ‘But you are not friends.’ A dark curl fell forward from her hastily gathered bun and brushed her cheek. She tucked it behind her ear. She was petite, with deep, brown eyes, long lashes and the kind of face that didn’t need a slick of make-up to make it beautiful. Her skin looked naturally tanned and her dark, curled hair had a hint of gold from time spent in the sun.

‘I’m sorry,’ Nina said. ‘But why is this any of your business?’

‘I don’t understand,’ the woman said. ‘I do not have a business.’

Another language faux pas. ‘I mean,’ Nina said, her French faltering, ‘well, who are you? And why do you need to know?’ She brandished the key. ‘I’m just going to go in now,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, Jean-Luc isn’t here, so I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey.’

The woman laughed. ‘I think it would be a good idea to let me wait inside with you. I will call him and when he gets home, we can talk with him.’ She seemed unfazed by Nina’s coldness.

‘Jean-Luc is in England,’ Nina said. ‘He won’t be back until next month.’

‘Oh,merde,’ the woman’s shoulders slumped for the first time. ‘Why does he not tell me this? He has a phone,’ she was talking to herself rather than posing a question to Nina.

‘I’m sorry,’ Nina said, her tone softening. ‘I think it was quite a last-minute decision for him, if that helps.’

The woman looked up and fixed her deep, brown eyes on Nina’s face. She shook her head. ‘My brother has always been like this. He is a little careless sometimes.’

‘Oh, you’re his sister!’ Suddenly, Nina had to adjust her thinking. ‘He didn’t tell you he was going?’

‘No,’ the woman said. ‘And I have been driving for three hours to see him, the stupid boy.’

Nina smiled sympathetically. ‘That’s awful,’ she said. ‘What about your other brother, Antoine?’

‘Yes, perhaps I can see him. But he will be working now. Perhaps we could make a coffee, and I could wait?’

Nina looked at the woman. She only had her word that she was indeed Jean-Luc’s sister. And she didn’t particularly want to invite this stranger inside. ‘What about a coffee shop?’ she said brightly. ‘You could wait at one of those lovely cafés near the front?’

The woman eyed her, taking another drag of her cigarette. ‘It is OK,’ she said. ‘I understand. Of course you are not able to invite me.’

‘Understand what?’

She took her time, blowing yet another stream of smoke into the air. ‘It is your British nature, I think,’ she said. ‘You are awkward, yes?’

‘I am not!’ Nina found herself saying.

‘Then you are suspicious? You think that I might be a criminal, perhaps?’

‘Well, no. Of course not, but… oh look,’ Nina said. ‘Of course. Come in. Sorry.’

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