Page 3 of The Bordeaux Book Club

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Grace smiled. ‘We don’t stand on ceremony here, I can tell you!’

Leah took a sip of coffee to hide the incredulous look that no doubt appeared on her face at that moment. Because Grace’s home was very much her palace, and Leah knew better than to turn up in anything that might wreck the upholstery. But perhaps there were different rules for new recruits, she mused. Or maybe it was George’s smile… He had one of those smiles – a kind of twinkling, relaxed grin that might have made even the inflexible Grace soften a little.

George was just easing himself into one of the high-backed, vintage armchairs when the bell rang again.

‘Ooh!’ said Grace. ‘That’ll be another one!’ She disappeared, leaving the two of them in sudden silence.

Leah smiled awkwardly at George, balancing her coffee cup on her knees. ‘So,’ she began, ‘where did you…’

But before Leah could finish her sentence, Grace appeared again, a young man standing awkwardly by her side. He looked at Leah and George and the immaculate room and the three-tier cake stand and the piles and piles of books and his cheeks flushed. ‘This is Alfie,’ said Grace, giving him a gentle pat on the back – with perhaps a little too much force, as the poor boy then stumbled forwards – encouraging him to join them. She smiled reassuringly, then turned to exit the room again.

‘Hi,’ he said, blushing to his roots. He looked to be about twenty – only a few years older than Scarlett.

Leah smiled, feeling her motherly instincts rise up. ‘Take a seat, Alfie,’ she said, patting the sofa next to her.

‘Thanks,’ he said, sinking into it, his hands clasped together as if he was perhaps praying for an escape route.

Grace reappeared before they could settle into any sort of conversation, this time brandishing a tray with cups and a coffee pot, a jug of cream and a vintage sugar bowl complete with tongs. She was truly going all-out for this gathering.

‘So do you think that might be it for tonight?’ Leah asked her.

‘Oh, I think there might be a couple more. But perhaps we ought to get going just in case,’ Grace said, smiling. There was a certain stiffness in her smile – something Leah noticed from time-to-time with her friend. As if her veneer had slipped slightly and someone altogether more vulnerable and unsure had appeared for a moment. Leah wondered whether Grace was disappointed at the turnout.

Whatever it was, her friend seemed to shake it off pretty quickly, and stood, once everyone was catered for, clapping her hands together like a schoolteacher commanding attention. ‘So!’ she said. ‘Welcome one and all!’

The three of them looked at her, not quite sure how to respond.

‘So, a book club. A chance to meet up, share our favourite books, expose ourselves to new authors, discuss and really get into literature,’ she beamed. ‘I’m so glad I’ve finally got around to arranging this – and thank you all so much for being here.’

The speech had, perhaps, been planned for a far bigger audience, but Grace soldiered on, nonetheless.

‘Let’s start by introducing ourselves,’ she continued. ‘I’m?—’

But the doorbell interrupted them.

Grace’s face flooded with excitement at the prospect of another recruit and she turned and whisked from the room, her pleated skirt billowing behind her.

In the silence that followed, the three of them shifted uncomfortably. George reached forward and grabbed a gingersnap, biting into it and filling the room with the sound of crunching. ‘Lovely biscuits,’ he said, between chomps.

‘Yes, Grace is quite the…’ began Leah, before stopping as Grace returned with a woman, who had such glowing skin and glossy hair that she could have literally stepped out of one of the magazines Grace kept tidily in a sofa-side rack. She was dressed casually, in an enormous hoodie that perhaps belonged to her husband, with leggings protruding from beneath, but this didn’t detract from her almost breathtaking beauty.

‘This is Monica,’ Grace said, beaming. ‘Come to join our little tribe!’

‘Hi Monica,’ they said in unison like children in a school assembly.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ Monica said. Her voice was quiet, barely audible in comparison with Grace’s booming tones.

‘Not at all. Not at all,’ Grace – who hated tardiness – said, still beaming. ‘We’re just glad you made it – aren’t we?’

They all nodded and shuffled and quietly agreed. Leah wondered – not for the first time – whether Grace was wasted tucked away in a corner of rural France. She seemed to have an ability to take charge of any situation, to assume leadership and have it granted. A natural teacher perhaps – and she knew Grace had spent years at the chalkface – but maybe she’d be even better placed as a councillor or an army officer or… or President of the world. She’d soon whip everyone into shape and sort out those pesky little scraps the male leaders seemed intent on having.

‘So,’ Grace went on, and Leah experienced the little frisson of anxiety that came with realising you hadn’t been paying attention. ‘I vote we all choose one book, then come back together and discuss it each month. Perhaps each of us hosts one of the evenings. It could be the ideal way to ward off this winterand transition to sunnier days!’ She ended so triumphantly that Leah wondered whether they ought to clap.

In the end, only Alfie gave in to the urge, banging his palms together twice into the silence before realising that none of the rest was going to join in.

It was 7p.m. Outside, the February darkness was just beginning to fall and the solar lights that peppered Grace’s perfectly organised garden began to glow as if in appreciation of Grace’s efforts.

Leah was the first to speak. ‘Well, it sounds great,’ she said, smiling at her friend. ‘Really positive.’

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