Page 73 of Sisters Making Mischief
When I had finished my meal, I started doing some research into a cameo brooch I had found in the box of oddments Isabel had bought. ‘Honestly, it’s just junk,’ she’d said, ‘you’re wasting your time.’
The cameo was about an inch long and carved with a man’s head on it. Which as I understood from my basic research was unusual, as most were of women. And he seemed to have a lot of grapes and foliage on his head. Perhaps it was a portrait of Bacchus? Anyway, I felt sure it was worth more than the ten euro price tag Isabel had put on it, even if the simple clasp at the back was bent out of shape. The pad of my thumb fitted neatly into the concave back of it, proving it probably was a shell and not just plastic. Perhaps I should take it to someone who knew more than I did and find out.
The rest of the box was full of pretty but probably valueless items. A few single earrings, a couple of silver brooches, several paste necklaces in lurid colours. I had the sudden wish that I had a jeweller’s eyeglass, so I could look more closely at things and perhaps, like the experts on the television programs, look up andsay things like,well, this is an interesting piece. Has it been in your family long?
Generally, the owner then says it was bought at a car boot sale for fifty pence, and then they burst into tears when they are told it is, in fact, a rare example of Fabergé, those glass stones are, in fact, baguette cut diamonds and worth more than their house.
Hmm, perhaps I was allowing myself to get a bit carried away with my new interest.
The door opened.
‘I’ve come to get your dinner tray. I see he’s gone. What did he say?’ Isabel said, her face alight with interest.
‘What did who say?’ I replied airily, trying to be irritating.
‘Luc, of course. Did you have a nice chat? He wanted to know how you were.’
‘Yes, he asked if I would like to go out to dinner with him, when my back is better.’
‘Fabulous,’ Isabel breathed, clasping her hands together.
‘I don’t know why you are getting so excited,’ I said, slightly annoyed with myself because that was exactly what I had been doing after all.
‘Because it is exciting,’ she said, picking up my tray and standing with an expression of rapture on her face, ‘perhaps you will have a romantic dinner somewhere really swanky, and he will hold your hand under the table and pay you lots of compliments. And then you will blush girlishly and?—’
I interrupted. ‘Isabel, I’m sixty-three, I don’t do anything girlishly.’
‘—then he will walk you home in the moonlight?—’
‘Up a rutted lane filled with potholes, and I will twist my ankle and he will have to call an ambulance because I will have eaten my bodyweight in bread and desserts, and he won’t be able to lift me. Or perhaps he could use your wheelbarrow.’
Isabel gave me an exasperated look. ‘You’re so prosaic, you’re no fun any more. And you’re very un-romantic.’
‘You can thank Stephen for that,’ I said, ‘there wasn’t much romance to be had as a rule. And after thirty-plus years of marriage it was hardly surprising.’
‘Nonsense,’ Isabel said, ‘Stephen was an idiot. Felix is still terribly romantic. He says I am the most beautiful woman in France. Mind you, that is generally when I have made him Beef Wellington, which is his favourite meal. Or potatoesau gratin, which I won’t let him have very often because it’s just cream and cheese. And we have been together longer than you two were.’
‘Yes, but in general. I mean ordinarily. I mean, are you still in love?’
Isabel frowned at the idea.
‘Of course. I wouldn’t put up with his snoring, or his inability to hang his clothes up, or his completely chaotic attitude towards putting his paperwork in order if I didn’t. The number of times I have had to take bank statements out of the vegetable rack, you wouldn’t believe it. And in the summer he would happily live in the same pair of shorts for days if I didn’t take them away to be washed.’
‘Stephen used to change his shirt twice a day sometimes,’ I said.
‘And Felix is colour blind. He once bought a shirt from a market stall, thinking it was green, and it was red. Which he paired with some blue trousers that were orange. The boys were in hysterics, and said he just needed some green shoes to look like a set of traffic lights.’
I laughed. ‘Poor Felix.’
‘That man knows when he’s on to a good thing, believe me. I tell him often enough. Now do you want some cheese? I haven’t bothered with a dessert and Felix is sulking. He may come out later and tell you how badly I treat him.’
‘Why did you fall in love with him?’
Isabel thought about this for a moment. ‘We had been going out for a couple of weeks, and he was trying to impress me. We were at the beach, near Bordeaux. And he had an ice cream, which he absolutely loves, and a seagull swooped down and stole the whole thing. And his face was such a picture, and then he started laughing, and right then, I knew he was the man for me. There was this marvellous, tingly feeling in the pit of my stomach. Daft, isn’t it? Why, when did you fall in love with Stephen?’
I tried to remember, a moment when I had felt like that, and I couldn’t.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, ‘I suppose there was a moment like that, but I can’t remember it.’
