Page 62 of You Had Me at Chateau
I have no idea how Ken connects to Ron, Erica or Elsie, but that’s the least of my worries right now.
‘Mum, you said he was in the hospital, and that you were on your way there,’ I point out.
‘Yes, he was in the hospital, visiting Ken,’ she says, obviously baffled she’s having to explain herself. ‘Parking is a nightmare there, so I dropped off and picked up your dad – there’s no reason we can’t be amicable, Amber.’
I mean, from what Tom has been telling me, it doesn’t sound like they’re being amicable but, again, that’s not the point right now.
‘Mum, when someone is admitted to hospital you say they areinthe hospital,’ I remind her. ‘When they are vising the hospital you say they areatthe hospital.’
I notice Caleb smiling, part sympathy, part amusement.
‘Honestly, you can tell you’re a writer,’ she replies with a laugh. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s been a long day. I should have worded it better.’
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling.
‘Probably,’ I say with a laugh, just happy that everything is okay.
We chat for a few more minutes, and she reassures me that everything is fine. I feel a wave of relief wash over me as I hang up and hand the phone back to Caleb.
‘False alarm,’ I say, smiling weakly. ‘He was just visiting someone.’
Caleb laughs, shaking his head.
‘Your mum has a fun way with words, doesn’t she?’ he points out.
‘Yeah, it seems like it runs in the family,’ I reply.
‘I think that’s one of the things that fascinates me about the English language,’ he says. ‘How changing one word can make such a difference.’
‘Or a comma,’ I reply. ‘It’s that old saying about how a comma changes a sentence, like: helping your brother, Jack, off a horse.’
Caleb laughs.
‘Exactly,’ he replies. ‘The difference between being “shit” and “the shit”.’
Another great example. My book is currently shit – if I could just find a ‘the’ from somewhere.
‘Right, here we are, I’ll be okay from here,’ I tell him, the château in my sights.
‘Are you sure?’ he replies. ‘It’s less than a minute out of my day…’
‘I’m going to feel guilty that you’re walking back alone – what if you slip, fall down the mountain, and die?’ I ask, echoing his words back to him.
‘That’s what this cool phone is for,’ he says with a smile. ‘Goodnight, Amber. It’s been fun.’
‘It has,’ I reply. ‘Thanks for everything. Dinner, use of your phone…’
‘You’re welcome,’ he says with a chuckle. ‘See you tomorrow.’
I feel all sorts of things right now. I feel a strange mix of emotions – relief, gratitude, and maybe a hint of something else I can’t quite place. Oh, and I feel full. So, so full. Which reminds me…
It’s time to face the ladies, and the music, and the second dinner.
I know Bette is preparing dinner for everyone, and the thought of facing more food makes my steps feel heavy, like I’m reluctantly headed for a dentist appointment, but I don’t want to be rude – well, I don’t want them to perceive me as rude. The warm glow from the dining room spills invitingly into the hallway, casting long, spooky shadows, but instead of feeling welcomed, I feel like I’m walking into a scene from a horror movie.
With each step closer, my resolve weakens. I can practically hear my stomach groaning – screaming, even – in protest. I take a deep breath, hoping it will fortify me, instead it only makes me feel even more full, but I’m here now.
There they are: Bette, Mandy, and Gina, all seated around the table, engaged in lively conversation. In the centre of the table sits a steaming-hot plate piled high with what appears to be stew, and I’m sure it would look appealing – to anyone who isn’t already painfully full, that is.
