Page 95 of All Mine
‘Not that long, just long enough to set up a new restaurant. It’s called Tutto Mio. It’s all family recipes– Italian meatballs– and we open this weekend.’ She turned away from Michelle and looked straight down the lens of the camera. ‘Everyone’s welcome!’
‘And cut,’ said Michelle, taking her headphones off and checking with the cameraman to make sure he was happy. He finished reviewing the footage and then gave her a thumbs up.
‘That was perfect, thanks,’ Michelle said, carefully winding her microphone wire up. ‘It will probably go out tonight unless something else happens nationally to push it out. But if not tonight, then tomorrow night.’
‘Sorry about the promotion at the end.’ Isabella laughed, not sorry at all. ‘I couldn’t help myself.’
‘No worries,’ said Michelle. ‘Those kinds of things normally get edited out, but I’ll see what I can do.’ She winked.
‘Isabella, can I get some shots of you walking by the queue? And then a few in the tent?’ the cameraman asked.
She let her fingers squeeze Etienne’s one more time, saying, ‘See you after for that drink.’
He nodded and squeezed back. ‘Told you you’d be brilliant. You’re amazing.’
The burst of emotion almost brought tears to her eyes. She reluctantly let go of his hand and followed the cameraman, fighting the urge with every step to skip and laugh out loud like a five-year-old. Giving in to looking over her shoulder as they got to the queue, she saw Etienne lifting the phone to his ear and turning away to talk.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Etienne
Etienne was watching Isabella walk away– admiring her bum as usual − when his phone rang. Alex’s name on his screen grabbed his attention.
‘You okay?’ he asked reflexively as he pressed green.
‘I’m okay,’ Alex replied and Etienne wondered when they would be free of those first questions. When they might be able to relax and simply say hello.
‘Got any news?’
‘I have a location,’ Alex said. ‘It’s an old farm building in Shentford. I’ve had a look on Google Maps. It’s quite remote.’
Dread flooded through Etienne.
‘I’m coming too,’ said Etienne. ‘And so are Fox and Walker. We’ll wait somewhere nearby—’
‘You can’t,’ Alex cut in.
‘They won’t know we’re there. It’s so that we can get to you if needs be. . .’
‘No. I just need you to help with the money. Nothing else. Especially now.’
‘What do you mean?’
Alex fell silent, and Etienne watched the cameraman trailing Isabella along the queue. People were smiling and waving to be on the television; Isabella was laughing.
‘What do you mean, Al?’ he repeated.
‘They know who you are, Et,’ he said quietly, and Etienne covered his other ear to hear better. ‘Not only that I have a brother. They know who you are.’
‘What? How?’
‘Old Man Dougall saw you, at Mum and Dad’s grave. He thought you were me, that I’d dyed my hair in some kind of disguise, an attempt to change my looks.’
Etienne realised how hard he was clutching the phone and tried to relax his grip. It was true, he and Alex looked similar although they were not identical. There were differences you would see and know if you saw them together. The colour of their hair was the most obvious. Alex had blue eyes, Etienne green. Their jaws were different, the shape of their nose. Alex looked somehow softer than Etienne. But their build and height were the same– or had been last time he’d seen him. They were easily confused if seen separately, and from a distance.
‘He couldn’t believe his eyes apparently. Thought I’d walked straight into his day. Then he heard you being called Etienne by whoever you were with. And after you’d gone, he checked the grave. It says beloved parents of Alex and Etienne Martin. So, he figured it out and told the brothers. They know your name, Et.’
Images of the graveyard flicked through his mind. Isabella calling him to point out the robin. The old man who walked past.
