Page 84 of Sisters Making Mischief
‘Yes, I know.’
There was a nice-looking but low chair in one corner, upholstered inToile de jouyfabric. It might be pleasant to have a few minutes sit down, and the chairs in the restaurant were quite high and hard.
I flopped down into the chair. There was immediately a terrible, rending noise and I looked in horror at my companion. Perhaps it had been a mistake to wear vintage— noforty-year-old trousersand sit down in them without due care.
Oh God.
I sprang up and wheeled around a couple of times, trying unsuccessfully to see what damage I had done. I don’t know what I was thinking. Who has ever seen their own rear view without a mirror?
Further examination revealed that yes, the forty-year-old stitches in the back seam of my lovely trousers had given up, and there was a huge hole that could never go unnoticed without remedial action.
The young woman and I looked at each other in horror and then she raised her eyebrows.
‘Oh, mon Dieu!’
And then she made some clucking noises and put her fingertips over her lips. Whether in sympathy or to stop herself from laughing I wasn’t sure.
‘Have you got a needle and thread?’ I asked.
She looked at me blankly and I scoured my remedial knowledge of French to think of another way of saying it.
‘Réparer…repairing?’
She shook her head.
‘Adhésif?’
And how exactly did I plan on gluing my trousers back together? And if I did what would stop them sticking to my knickers? I could almost see myself being carted off to the local hospital to have the whole lot removed by a giggling nurse with some surgical spirit.
‘Ah!’ she said, her face brightening.
She made a hand gesture telling me to stay where I was and opened her capacious handbag. She rummaged around in the depths of it, bringing out her purse, a small umbrella, a phone, several letters, a brush, a toy car and a colouring book and crayons.
‘Épingles de sûreté,’ she said proudly.
Oh, good grief. Two massive safety pins. I hadn’t seen things like that since the children were in terry nappies.
‘Merci,’ I said weakly and took my trousers off.
Her face lit up.
‘Quelle jolie culotte!’
What pretty knickers.
OhGod.
I went back into the loo and did what I could to pin my trousers together. When I came out the young woman had gone.I took a look at myself in the mirror and smoothed down my hair. After all my playing about with trousers and safety pins, bits of it were coming down from the messy bun, so I just looked messy, and of course, being plastered in hairspray the strands were sticking out in all directions. And how long had I been in here anyway? Luc would think I’d had an accident. It didn’t bear thinking about.
As I returned to my seat, he stood up very respectfully. Apart from throwing me a worried glance, he didn’t ask where I had been for so long, and wisely, I didn’t offer any information. I decided to let it go into the ‘mystery that is woman’category.
I sat down very carefully, knowing that there was a possibility that one of the safety pins could open up and stab me in the nether regions. I composed myself, folding my hands on the table and trying to look relaxed.
Then Arnaud wheeled out the cheese board on a trolley. There was a fabulous selection of course, because the French do cheese better than anyone.
Following on from my disaster in the Ladies and the split trousers episode, I tried to moderate my usual greed, and just had a small piece of brie and some roquefort, which was my absolute favourite. Luc had something wrapped in leaves. I had no idea what it was.
‘Banon. Goat’s cheese wrapped in chestnut leaves that have been soaked in brandy.’
