Page 90 of Sisters Making Mischief
‘Charles isamoureux de moi, I told you. Men and women cannot be friends.’
‘Oh, I think they can,’ Isabel said.
Eugénie held up a commanding hand. ‘The sex gets in the way.’
‘Mamie! Really!’
‘Oh, I am right, as I am with all things. When you get to my age, you may know everything too. Men always think of sex. Bastien was the same, there is nothing wrong with it.’ Sherested her elbows on the table and looked dreamily into the far distance. ‘Some days when we were first married we hardly planted any potatoes at all or dug them up for that matter. But then I was irresistible. He said I had the most beautiful legs in France, and heaven knows he spent enough time looking at them. He particularly liked my knees. He said I had the knees of a goddess.’
‘I think I’d better go,’ I said.
‘I’ll drop you off,’ Isabel murmured, ‘so you can pick up your car.’
I put my borrowed clothes into their protective bags and laid them carefully across the back seat of Isabel’s car, and then we set off. I needed to go into town, ask about a dry cleaning and repair service and then see Paulette, but instead we drove to Luc’s house.
As we pulled up outside his house, I spotted him. He was dressed in his workman’s blue overalls, scrubbing away with a wire brush at what looked like a stone font.
He looked up when he saw me and waved.
‘Bonjour!How are you both this morning?’ he called.
Isabel wound down her window and shouted across. ‘I’m not staying I’m just dropping Joy off so she can get her car. And I’ll take your things back to Paulette and explain what happened. See you later.’
We watched her go, her car bumping off back down the lane, and then I went over to him, wondering what I was going to say.
‘That was a lovely evening,’ he said, dropping the wire brush on the ground and unfastening the top two buttons of his boiler suit.
I nodded; my gaze fixed on the small glimpse of his chest. Which was tanned. Perhaps when he was alone he sunbathed topless. Or even naked. Good heavens.
‘I hope you enjoyed it too?’ he added.
He undid another button. Was this deliberate? Was he flirting?
I nodded again, my throat tight with nerves. Think of the bucket list: I was going to do things I wanted to, not what people thought I should.
‘Look,’ I said, the words suddenly spilling out, ‘where are you going with this?’
He looked at the old font, confused.
‘I thought I might put it in the middle of the garden, perhaps planted up with something. You might be able to advise me. It could be converted into a fountain, but I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea.’
I closed my eyes partly in frustration, and also because it was easier not to look at him. He was looking very attractive that morning, despite, or perhaps because of, the fact that he was a bit sweaty, dishevelled and doing something physical. I’d always found that a bit of a turn on, which is why I’d always had a soft spot for the rather rugged man in the house renovation programs who seemed able to paint a room in five minutes and construct a wardrobe at the same time.
‘I didn’t mean that,’ I said at last, ‘I meant where are you going with me?’
He shrugged. ‘You could come inside and have a cup of tea? I wouldn’t mind a break.’
‘I mean us. Where are we going – no don’t answer that. I know you will say we are going into the kitchen. I mean after last night. What are we doing?’
‘Ah, last night, yes.’ He looked down at his feet, ‘That was a surprise, wasn’t it? I hope you were not offended?’
‘No, not at all,’ I said, ‘but I want to know?—’
What should I say? What your intentions are?I would sound like Eugénie.
What are you expecting of me?No, this involved both of us. I might have expectations too.
What are we going to do next?
