‘Is that what she told you?’
‘Yes. Oh, yes. Elk a de la presence, she said, whatever that
means. She thinks you’re topping, Clo, and you’ll be so
much better than one could ever be at letting her down
gently.’ He stopped, then looking at her sideways, he said,
‘Do you think one should just pop back to England, though,
before you do it? You know, sort of get out of the way?’
‘No, I most certainly do not!’ Claudine laughed. ‘And
neither am I going to let her down gently. Don’t look at me
like that! I’m not saying you have to marry her, but what I am
rather passionate poetry she tells me …’
‘But Clo, one didn’t mean her to …’
‘Oh yes one did, Freddy! What you didn’t mean her to do
was assume you were going to marry her as a result. Now,
you are absolutely certain that you didn’t actually propose
when you were … incapable, shall we say?’
‘Oh, absolutely! I’ve thought about it and thought about
it, and I just don’t see how one could have. I mean, it was the
furthest thing from one’s mind …’
‘Hm.’ Claudine was silent for a moment. ‘Well, what
matters now is that we get you out of this mess and back to
Oxford before it’s too late. The question is, how?’
He gazed up at her pleadingly, and she sat forward to
plant a kiss on the end of his nose.
‘I know you’ll think of something, Clo. I just know you
will.’
The telephone started ringing then, and Claudine got up
to answer it. ‘Well, whatever it is,’ she said, ‘you have a
lesson to learn here, Freddy Prendergast, so you will be the
one to let her down gently, not I. Savigny 222,’ she said into
the receiver. She turned to Freddy, unable to stop the grin
spreading across her face. ‘Yes, Monique,’ she continued
into the telephone, ‘it is Claudine here. No, I have no idea
where Jean or Pierre are, so I answered myself. No, Celine
isn’t here either, she’s in Tours. Yes, yes he is.’ She grinned
as Freddy started frantically shaking his head. ‘I’ll put him
on.’
Glaring at her, Freddy took the receiver, and Claudine,
laughing, went into the drawing-room to save his embarrassment.
Five
disorder. ‘Monique asked one to remind you to invite
Celine and one to dinner tonight,’ he said morosely.
‘Of course,’ Claudine said. ‘Consider yourself invited.’
She waited. ‘Well,’ she pressed, ‘what else did she say?’
‘Oh, Clo!’ he wailed, clasping his head in his hands. ‘She
wants to announce our engagement. Tonight!’
‘Oh, Freddy,’ Claudine sighed, trying not to laugh.
He threw himself down on the sofa. ‘I’m doomed,’ he
groaned tragically. ‘Doomed!’
‘Not necessarily. I’ll talk her into postponing it.’
‘I don’t want a postponement, I want a cancellation!’ he
cried.
‘We don’t always get what we want in this life, Freddy,’
she said, a little more harshly then she’d intended. He gave
her a curious look, and she went on quickly, ‘A postponement
I can virtually guarantee. Lucien is coming home in a
few days time, just for the night en route to join his regiment.
For that night, assuming Francois isn’t called away, the
whole family will be together, and I’ll advise Monique to
make the announcement then. How does that sound?’
‘Better,’ he nodded dismally. ‘Better, but not perfect.’
‘Freddy, you aren’t still moping around the place, are
you?’ Celine was standing at the door, and the instant
Claudine saw her, tears stung painfully at her eyes. Hastily
she blinked them away - how ridiculous she was to be so
moved by the sight of people she loved!
Celine looked back at her niece, then with a smile she
lifted her arms and held them out to her. ‘Ma cherie,’ she
murmured, as Claudine went to her.
‘Tante Celine. Oh, Tante Celine, I’m so sorry. I’m so…”
She stopped as Celine put a finger over her lips.
‘There is nothing to be sorry for, cherie,’ she said. ‘We will
talk later, but for now I must have some tea.’
Of course they couldn’t talk in front of Freddy, but
already her aunt had made it clear that she had forgiven the
dreadful outburst, and Claudine felt a weight had been lifted from her heart.
Tea was brought, and Claudine heard about what had been happening at Montvisse while she was away, and told them all she wanted them to know about Biarritz. She knew she wasn’t deceiving her aunt, even for a minute, but it was vital to her for her own sake to keep up appearances.
It was a little after five when the telephone rang again, and
Pierre came to tell Freddy the call was for him. Choking
back her laughter at Freddy’s anguished face, Claudine
waited for him to leave the room before turning to her aunt.
Celine held up her hands. ‘I don’t want to know,’ she said.
‘He’s got himself into some kind of trouble with Monique
de Lorvoire, and as far as I’m concerned he must get himself
out of it.’
‘My sentiments exactly,’ Claudine said. ‘But I can’t
abandon him altogether - after all, he is only nineteen.’ She
paused and looked Celine straight in the eye. ‘Any more
man you can bring yourself to abandon me, and I’m
twenty-two,’ she added meaningfully. ‘That is, I take it, why
you are staying on at Montvisse?’
Smiling, Celine brushed her fingers over Claudine’s
face, then helped herself to more tea. ‘Am I allowed to ask
why you are back from Biarritz so soon?’ she said, dropping
two lumps of sugar into her cup.
‘The weather was atrocious, so Francois thought it better
that we return to Lorvoire,’ Claudine answered lightly.
Celine nodded. ‘Except that Francois, so I hear, is in
Paris.’ Her eyes narrowed as she regarded her niece. ‘How
are things between you two now?’ she said bluntly.
‘As good as they’ll ever be.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that I am over the shock of losing my virginity.’
Celine seemed cross. ‘Please don’t treat me like an idiot, cherie. It would have taken more man that for you to run
away on your wedding night, but if you don’t want to tell me,
then don’t.’
Claudine smiled. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said gently, ‘but there’s
no point in going into why I left him that night, it’s history
now, and it simply isn’t relevant any longer. Things have
changed a great deal since. Francois and I now have a
marriage that will suit us both.’
Celine sighed. She didn’t like the sound of that at all.
‘Why do I get the feeling that you are starting a life
sentence?’ she said.
‘All marriages are life sentences,’ Claudine laughed, ‘if
you want to put it that way. And mine is not so bad. I have
Solange and Louis - and Monique and I will be friends
eventually. And now that you are staying on in Touraine for
a while, I am surrounded by people I love.’
‘But…’
‘And,’ Claudine interrupted, ‘if Francois and I continue
the way we are, it shouldn’t be too long before there’s a baby
at Lorvoire. So then everyone will be happy, including my
husband.’
‘So you are making love?’ Celine said.
‘That isn’t what Francois calls it, but yes, I suppose we
are.’ She looked away. She didn’t want to have to go into a
detailed account of the nightly struggle between herself and
Francois, particularly since she had now learned that life was a lot easier if she just did as he told her. Though he hadn’t liked it much when she started to sing the
Marseillaise at the top of her voice … She wouldn’t do it
again …
She looked up as the door burst open and Freddy all but
fell into the room. ‘Clo!’ he cried, ‘do! You know what we
were talking about earlier? Well, I’ve just had the most
fortunate phone call, and I think it will solve all my
problems!’
By the time Claudine had heard Freddy’s plan for extricating
himself from Monique, and had said goodbye to Tante
Celine, it was early evening. She still wanted to visit Liliane
St Jacques, and there was just time, she thought, before she
had to get back to the chateau to change for dinner.
The sky was almost dark as she drove through the village.
She could see Armand in the cafe as she drove past, and for
a moment she was tempted to join him, it looked so cosy
inside. But it was Liliane, not Armand she had come to see,
and there was no cosiness on earth to compare with Liliane
St Jacques’ kitchen, where garlic and herbs and pots and
pans hung all over the unevenly plastered walls, and the
ovens always gave out smells so appetizing that Claudine
could feel her mouth watering even as she stepped out of the
car and made a dash through the rain for the door.
By the time she reached it, it was already open, and
Liliane’s toothless smile was waiting to greet her. Her black
headscarf was tied neatly under her chin, and her shapeless
grey dress was covered by a faded, carrot-stained apron.
Claudine had met her only a few times before the wedding,
but like Solange and Monique she had come to regard her
as almost one of the family.
Claudine stooped to embrace her, and Liliane pulled her
into the warmth of the kitchen, clucking her delight that she
had come to visit so soon. She sat her down at the table, then
padded across the flagstones to ladle a cup of hot broth from
the pot over the fire. While Claudine drank she continued to
clean the vegetables she had set out on the table, all the time
recounting in a low, scratchy voice the latest village doings.
She knows all there is to know, Claudine thought fondly,
but there isn’t a malicious bone in her body; she sees good in
everyone, even where there’s none to see.
After a while Liliane got up and poured them each a tot of
Lorvoire wine. Then she turned on the wireless so that
Claudine could listen to the last part of the news broadcast,
while she added her vegetables to a lamb stew she was
cooking for Armand’s supper.
The only light in the kitchen came from the fire in the
huge stone hearth and the air was warm and steamy.
Claudine allowed her eyes to close, only half-listening to
the newscaster’s dull monotone as he read out the details
of a naval agreement Britain had signed with Germany,
and the latest information from the Bourse. Her concentration
waned altogether then, as she listened to the gentle
drum of the rain outside and tried not to think of Francois.
She had almost fallen asleep when suddenly the door
opened with a quick burst of cold wind, and Armand came
in.
‘Bonsoir, Armand,’ she smiled up at him.
‘Bonsoir, madame?
Claudine watched as he stamped the mud from his boots
and unbuttoned his jacket. She had met him only once, on
the day of her wedding, and she remembered now how
much he had surprised her. From what Lucien had told her
about the death of his wife and child, she had expected there
to be an air of tragedy about him - but, on the contrary, she
had seen humour in his kind, handsome face, and his large
blue eyes had shone with laughter as he danced the older
women round the ballroom.
‘I see you are sampling last year’s vintage,’ he said,
smiling.
‘Is it a particularly good one?’ she asked, feeling herself
responding to his warmth.
He pulled a thoughtful face. ‘Not particularly,’ he said.
‘But it will sell.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she laughed. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m
rather glad you’re here. There’s something I’d like to
discuss with you.’
‘Oh?’ he said, taking off his jacket and hooking it over the
back of a chair. He sat down at the head of the table and
Tilted his blond head on his hand, while his mother set a glass before him and started to pour the wine.
‘Well, it’s more of a suggestion really,’ Claudine said.
‘Francois tells me that the grapes are to be harvested soon, and that there always used to be a celebration at the chateau when they were in. I was wondering if it would be a good
idea to revive the tradition. What do you think?’
‘Madame de Lorvoire,’ Armand said, with irony in his
voice, ‘you’re going to make yourself even more popular
than you already are if you continue to come up with
suggestions like that.’
‘So you’ll help?’
‘Of course, madame.’
‘Marvellous. And please stop addressing me as ‘madame’
when I know full well that you even call the Comte and
Comtesse Louis and Solange. Perhaps you can spread the
word. About the festival, I mean. See if anyone wants to join
us, do anything to help, donate things …’
‘A Frenchman, donate!’ he cried throwing up his hands.
‘Don’t you know they all have porcupines in their pockets?’
Claudine burst out laughing, and Liliane chuckled too.
Armand drained his glass, refilled Claudine’s, then rolled
back his sleeves and walked over to the enamel sink beneath the window.
‘What sort of thing do you have in mind for the
celebration?’ Liliane asked Claudine.
‘I’m not sure yet,’ she answered. ‘That was why I wanted
to talk to you and Armand …’
While Claudine and his mother ran through some ideas,