Page 38 of Sisters Making Mischief
It was a good job I was sitting down because I think I felt a bit wobbly for a moment. I don’t think I had felt that way for years.
Isabel recovered her composure with remarkable speed, which was more than I did.
‘Not at all! Come in, make yourself at home. Let’s get this wine open, shall we? What is it? Not that it matters. Ah, a lovely Bordeaux! You are spoiling us.’
‘My favourite,’ I added hastily.
Luc and I stared at each other for another uncomfortable moment and then I busied myself tidying away the chopping board and knife I had been using. I think I was even blushing. Which at my age was absurd.
‘MadameChandler,’ he said.
‘Please call me Joy,’ I said.
‘Joy,’ he said, holding out a hand for me to shake.
I liked the way he said my name, his accent softening the hardness of the J.
At what point did the French go in forla bis,that cheek-kissing thing?
‘Luc,’ I said, my voice a bit shaky.
I then remembered I was in jogging bottoms, a sweatshirt, had wet hair, no make up and gorilla feet slippers.
He looked down at them and pressed his lips together, presumably to stop himself from smiling.
By then, Isabel had whipped the cork out of the bottle and poured him a glass of wine.
‘Santé,’ he said, raising it towards us, ‘your good health.’
There was an uncomfortable silence and then Isabel started finding things for a fourth place setting. I could see she was trying to be discreet, even stealthy but those weren’t qualities at which my sister was skilled.
Luc nodded as she slipped some extra cutlery onto the table. He wasn’t fooled for a moment.
‘Felix didn’t tell you I was coming this evening, did he?’
Isabel rose to the occasion. ‘Probably, but when you get to know me, you will understand I am a bit scatter-brained. I forget things. Perhaps it’s my age.’
She then placed a couple of plates and a water glass onto the table with the stealth of a rather unsuccessful pickpocket.
‘I wonder where he is?’ she said at last, ‘dinner is ready. Heat proof mats that’s what I need. I wonder where they are. We’ve been having a tidy up.’
‘On the dresser,’ I said and went to get them.
Luc hesitated. ‘I can leave, if it’s not?—’
‘Absolutely not!’ Isabel said cheerfully. ‘It’s lovely to have you here. I wanted to introduce Joy to the locals. People we know. Friends.’
He looked thoughtful. ‘Well, I am local. I am not sure I am a friend…’
‘Not yet perhaps, because you’ve been a bit— well?—’
‘Distant?’ he said.
I was feeling very uncomfortable at this point although Isabel seemed to be okay with the situation. Perhaps all her years of managing Eugénie had helped.
‘Private,’ she said at last, ‘although I am sure you have your reasons. It must be very different from life in Paris.’
‘I’ve never lived in Paris,’ he said frowning.
