Page 87 of Sisters Making Mischief
‘I’ll see you soon?’
A question, not a statement, which I liked because it showed he wasn’t assuming anything.
‘À bientôt,’ I said, feeling very chic and cosmopolitan.
The taillights from his truck hadn’t disappeared from the end of the drive before Isabel was banging on the door of the shepherd’s hut.
I opened it; she was in her pyjamas and dressing gown with a wool throw from the sofa over her shoulders. Behind her I could see Marcel and Antoine looking just as inquisitive as my sister.
‘Well?’ she said.
‘Bit nosey, aren’t you?’ I said.
‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘let me in, it’s freezing out here.’
She came in, nudging the dogs to wait outside, and sat down facing me, her eyes bright with interest.
‘We had a lovely meal,’ I said, ‘you and Felix really should go there. I had terrine to start with and thesole meunière…’
Isabel tutted her frustration. ‘I don’t care if you had beans on toast. How did it go?’
‘Very well,’ I said, ‘it was a lovely evening, we talked non-stop, I like him.’
‘So why are you here? And not over there making passionate love amongst the paint pots and dust sheets?’
I laughed, feeling quite light-headed at the idea. ‘Give me a chance!’
‘What I mean is, you know, was there a connection? Did you fancy each other?’
‘Yes and yes,’ I said, ‘and we had a lovely snog in the car park before he drove me back, and he called mechèrieand kissed my hand.’
Isabel clasped her hands over her heart and sighed with pleasure.
‘How marvellous! I couldn’t be more pleased. And? Anything else?’
‘No, that’s about it,’ I said.
‘Are you going to see him again?’
‘I expect so. Now go away and let me go to bed.’
Isabel stood up and pulled her blanket around herself more tightly.
‘Excellent. Right then, I will leave you to it. But I will be asking more questions in the morning.’
‘Don’t tell Eugénie,’ I shouted after her, and she laughed, and then nearly fell over Antoine.
I lay in my comfortable bed that night thinking how lucky I really was. I had my health, my family even if they had their faults. But I had flaws, too, quite serious ones if I was honest. I had beenso busy pleasing people, clearing up after them, keeping Stephen happy instead of both of us, and consequently not actually being involved in my own life. After I had retired, I had come to regard my family as my job.
I had never been the sort of mother who boasted she was her children’s‘best friend’, but could I have encouraged Sara to confide in me more about what her marriage was really like, so she didn’t have to numb the pain with alcohol? And then perhaps she wouldn’t have been so hostile to Vanessa.
Why had John felt the need to keep his move to America secret from me until it was all sorted out? Did he think I would be annoyed that the pattern of my life was going to be affected by it?
I was proud of both my children. Had I ever told them? I thought I had but I wasn’t sure.
A thought struck me at that point. Hang on. I was doing it again, making other people’s happiness my responsibility.
I reached over, switched on the bedside light and picked up my Wonder Woman notebook, flicking though the pages of my list.
