Page 52 of You Had Me at Chateau
‘The dessert?’ he asks, puzzled.
I can’t help but snort.
‘No, you know, a moose,’ I say again, holding my open hands up on the top of my head, trying to make them look like antlers. I’m still not sure he knows what I mean.
‘Erm, no, no moose,’ he replies. ‘Sorry, perhaps my English isn’t that good.’
‘Are you kidding? Your English is perfect,’ I insist. ‘Where did you learn to speak it?’
‘At school,’ he tells me simply. ‘We all learn English at school.’
‘Right, but I learned French at school, and I barely remember a thing,’ I tell him. ‘I don’t remember them teaching us anything really useful, like how to order a croissant, but randomly I can remember how to briefly describe my bedroom. Oh, and how to say goldfish, for some reason. But I’m not holding any conversations anytime soon.’
Henri just laughs.
‘Then it is lucky for us I speak English,’ he tells me. ‘And that I can order your croissants for you.’
I feel like a genuine Brit abroad right now.
‘Perfect,’ I reply. ‘Maybe we could do that now, actually, because I’m starving, and kind of dizzy, and don’t they say you should never skate on an empty stomach?’
Henri laughs again – I assume all this laughing is with me and not at me.
‘Okay, so, let me walk you to the resort village, and get you something to eat,’ Henri says, ushering me back towards thepath. ‘Then I have to go for a meeting but perhaps we can visit the hot springs later, see if we can see the moose.’
I laugh because he still has no idea what that means.
‘Okay, sounds great,’ I tell him.
I actually have a meeting too, with Caleb – and I need to pop to get my nails done first, apparently – so it seems like I might have timed things just right.
Well, almost just right. I never thought I would be in my thirties and hiding behind a tree.
25
It’s a big resort, so it makes sense, but it turns out there are more places to eat and drink than there are (exaggerating slightly) people. Restaurants, bars, cafés, stands – I don’t know if there is anything you can’t get here, which is wild because you would think being stuck up the Alps might limit what was available. Heck, there’s even a sushi bar, which looks phenomenal, but it’s not the first thing you think of eating when you’re up a mountain.
I’m in one of the smaller, more intimate cafés with Caleb, our lunch laid out before us like something out of a glossy magazine about French living.
It really doesn’t get more French than this. We’ve got a fresh baguette, a selection of cheeses, a plate of charcuterie, asalade niçoise, and a small pot of creamy pâté. Caleb looks a bit like a DJ as he spins the plates, making sure everything is just right.
Finally happy with the layout, he starts snapping flat-lay photos, some just of the food, others he strategically manages to work his watch into. We’re also both wearing some kind of smart rings, the kind that monitor your heart rate and all sorts, so I need to try to work mine into some of my snaps. I’m also takinga bunch of food photos for my own Instagram because, even though I don’t have many followers, I love to post food pics.
‘Wow, this looks so good,’ I say as I follow his lead, positioning my phone above the table.
Caleb, like the pro that he is, gently nudges a piece of cheese into place, making sure everything is arranged just right.
‘Here’s a tip,’ he says, glancing up at me. ‘Natural light is your best friend but these spotlights above us could ruin your shot. Make sure you’re not casting any shadows over the food. And try different angles – overhead shots are great for flat lays, but sometimes a close-up can capture the texture and details better. Just watch for those shadows.’
‘Ooh, thanks,’ I reply. ‘I never thought an actual influencer would be giving me tips on how to take my foodie pics.’
I adjust my position, taking a few overhead shots before moving in for some close-ups of my wine glass – while I hold the stem with my smart-ring-clad hand, of course.
‘How’s this?’ I ask, showing him my screen.
‘Not bad,’ he says, studying my photos. ‘Try angling the glass, just a little, but wait for the wine to stop swirling around in the glass before you take the photo. Oh, and someone told me this one, and I don’t know how professional it is, as far as advice goes, but it has always helped me. When you go to take your photo, always do it while you’re breathing out, and breathe out nice and slowly. That’s the best way to get the steadiest photo.’
‘Wow, okay,’ I say, keen to give it a try.
