Page 44 of Sisters Making Mischief
She pulled a cloth out from the pocket of her apron and wiped a crumb off the table.
‘You should come on a Friday, I makemadeleines.’
‘Perhaps I will,’ he said.
He gave her a charming smile and then flicked me a glance. There. It was moments like those that I recognised.
Mimi fidgeted for a moment and then luckily Isabel returned, and Mimi went back inside, obviously disappointed that she hadn’t managed to prolong the conversation with him.
‘Thank you for a delightful dinner last week,’ he said. ‘I enjoyed it.’
‘Anytime,’ Isabel said cheerfully, ‘you must come again. It can’t be easy for you to cook at the moment. I should have invited you earlier.’
‘I manage,’ he said, taking one of the macarons. ‘Yes, these are good.’
‘Tell me about your building work,’ I said at last, wondering if that would draw him out a little.
‘It’s been harder than I thought, but I feel I have achieved something.’
‘Felix’s great-uncle, Jacques, used to live there. He had nine children,’ Isabel said.
Luc raised his eyebrows. ‘Really? Nine? But there were only two bedrooms. I wonder where they all slept?’
‘Perhaps he should have had a hobby or bought a radio to take up his spare time,’ Isabel said, and gave a nervous giggle. ‘Oooh, I’ve just remembered something.’
She stood up again and went back into the café, leaving me and Luc to our non-conversation.
At last, he finished his coffee and put the cup down with a decisive chink into the saucer.
‘I think your sister imagines we are going to talk,’ he said, ‘so you can find out all about me and she can ask for the details later.’
‘I’m not sure,’ I said, ‘are you that interesting?’
He laughed then, a proper laugh, which was rather lovely, and I felt myself relax a little.
‘No, I think when you get to know me better, you will find out I am not.’
He really was tremendously good-looking but unlike many handsome men, gave the impression that he was unaware of it. Which was unexpected and very attractive. I wondered if he did have a wife somewhere, or even children. And if so, where were they? Perhaps he was divorced, or he had spent his entire life ploughing through academic tomes in university libraries. And‘when I got to know him better’? Was that even a possibility? Considering the conversation had been so stilted up to now, it didn’t seem likely.
I realised I was having very inappropriate thoughts and tried to think of something to say.
‘Sorry. Isabel just said that when everyone knows everything about everybody, no one takes any interest in them any more. You ought to think about that. I was surprised how everyone knew about me. People I’d never met seemed to know all sorts of things.’
He leaned forwards slightly and fixed me with his beautiful brown eyes. I think I heard myself give a little whimper, and I cleared my throat to hide the fact.
‘So what brings you here, have you just come to visit your sister? Or is there more to it than that? You don’t have to tell me, but perhaps I can just ask the postman when I see him next?’
I laughed too and the atmosphere between us warmed up a little. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw Isabel comingoutside, but then she made a sharp 180 degree turn on her heel and disappeared again.
‘Of course I wanted to see Isabel, and Felix and my nephews, but I also needed a change of scenery. Christmas was – shall we say – hard work this year. For a lot of reasons.’
I had a sudden flashback to the day after Boxing Day when I had made yet another huge meal, pasta with home-made bolognaise sauce for most of us, and pasta with cheese for Jasmine and Mia. Halfway through Jasmine had told Bunny she was eating minced up cow and Bunny had started crying. And then there had been a spirited discussion about personal choice and bullying, which had degenerated into Jasmine being sent out of the room for a time out, and not allowed back until she apologised to Bunny. Not to me, I’d noticed.
My resentment had resurfaced at that point, and I had stamped about for a bit, fetching yet another bottle of wine and the pepper mill, and slamming them down on the table and no one had clocked my ill humour at all. It really had been as though I was invisible. I don’t think I would put up with that now, I think a certain resolve had started up inside me.
Luc nodded and ate the second macaron after first offering it to me. I politely declined, referencing the remains of the crème pâtissière on my plate. I didn’t want him to think I was a complete pig.
‘Christmas can be difficult,’ he said, ‘I went to see an old friend in Marseille.’
