Page 5 of The Bordeaux Book Club

‘Grace is always right’, a mutual acquaintance had once said when they’d met up at a craft sale. ‘And as long as she’s always right, she’s great company’.

‘Yes,’ said Grace at last, sinking into her chair, clutching three further copies ofGreat Expectations. Clearly, she’d been hoping for a larger showing. ‘Yes, Bordeaux in Bordeaux. I like it. In fact, did I tell you I went on a wine tour recently toSaint-Émilion?’ she said, turning to Leah. ‘I learned an awful lot about local grapes.’

Leah smiled, relieved that Grace had found she was still the voice of authority on all the matters relating to the group. Order was restored.

A surreptitious look at her watch revealed it was quarter past seven. Outside, thick, black darkness had absorbed everything except the dotted light of the solar lamps, and the comforting glow that surrounded the one streetlamp on Grace’s road. Cloud cover had obliterated the stars, and a light rain had begun to fall, pattering gently against the window as if not wanting to interrupt. Leah didn’t blame it. Who was brave enough to cut off Grace in full flow?

‘Of course, each grape is different,’ she was saying. ‘You have your Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, that kind of thing. But it’s the blend that really makes the wine. You’ve probably all heard of Malbec – but…’

Leah looked across the room and caught Monica’s eye. Both women glanced away quickly and Leah had to fight the urge to giggle, the kind of bubbling laughter that she remembered from school – the type you’d get in the class of a strict teacher – deliciously forbidden and highly dangerous. She tried to concentrate on Grace’s words.

‘Perhaps I meant that all along,’ she was saying of the ‘Bordeaux’ idea. ‘Yes, I did wonder about wine, I must admit.’

‘I’m more of a beer drinker myself,’ Alfie piped up – unwisely – into the silence. ‘Would it be OK if I brought a bit of…’

‘Ah, then young man, you can consider this your education!’ Grace said, enthusiastically. ‘We’ll convert you by the end, I’m sure of it.’

Alfie nodded, sitting back on his chair and pushing his glasses back up his nose.

He was a bit of an anomaly in this group of forty and fifty-somethings, with his band T-shirt and black-rimmed glasses, enormous, white trainers and the small spray of acne at hisjawline. Leah wondered whether he’d meant to come to the group at all. Perhaps he’d written down the wrong address. He looked more suited to a chess club, or some sort of gaming type organisation. He looked up and caught her eye and she quickly looked away, embarrassed to have been caught staring. She somehow doubted he’d be there next week.

‘We readOliverat school,’ he said, cutting Grace off during an anecdote about wine-tasting: I just couldn’t spit it out! So uncouth! And what a waste! But then I ended up making quite a fool of myself in the vineyard…

Grace looked at him, ‘Well, don’t let that put you off,’ she said. ‘I find that school…’

‘Oh no. It didn’t,’ he added hurriedly. ‘Actually I… well, I loved it.’ His finger went to the bridge of his glasses, already firmly fixed on his nose, and gave it a nudge. ‘It was… I found it quite moving actually. So… I think this’ll be good.’

The statement seemed so out of place with their assumptions of him that they all fell silent.

George cleared his throat. ‘Don’t remember doing much at school myself,’ he said. ‘Mostly just pissed about. Wish I’d read more, really.’

Grace shuddered slightly at the language but let it pass. ‘Plenty of time to catch up,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a virtual library here, and you’re welcome to borrow.’ Her cheeks looked pink.

‘I can hardly remember anything I read at school,’ admitted Leah. ‘Then again, it’s a lot longer ago for us than you.’ She looked at Alfie, trying as always to knit everything back together. ‘You’ll have to be patient with us oldies.’ It was one of those things that you say, then sit for the next ten minutes wondering why you let yourself say it. It made them seem, she thought later, completely past it.

‘Not that long ago for all of us,’ Grace said, her brow furrowed, despite the fact that she was older than Leah by over a decade.

‘Right then,’ George said, slapping his thighs and groaning to his feet. ‘Sorry to love you and leave you, but I’d better get on.’

They all gratefully rose with him. ‘Yes,’ said Monica. ‘I told the babysitter eight at the latest so…’ She looked at her watch, a neat strip of weaved gold on her nut-brown wrist.

‘Oh, you have a child?’ Grace asked, looking at Monica’s slim frame incredulously.

They hadn’t actually asked many questions of each other at all during the short meet-up, Leah realised. They’d dutifully given their names and occupations during the introductions – shared a few basic facts. But nothing deeper. Still, it was a surprise that Monica hadn’t mentioned she was a mum, especially after Leah had told them all about Scarlett.

‘Oh, she’s just a baby,’ Monica said. ‘Three months old. Bella.’

‘But you don’t look…’ Grace began, before falling silent.

‘Here she is,’ Monica pulled a white phone from her pocket and expertly scrolled with her thumb. She passed Grace a picture of a baby wearing a hat with teddy ears and looking at the camera with enormous, brown eyes.

‘Lovely,’ Grace said, decisively, barely glancing at the screen before passing the phone quickly to Leah.

The others made the appropriate noises as they inspected Bella, en route to the front door.

‘Well, thanks again,’ George began, his hand on the catch, brandishing his book as if to remind Grace that she’d given it to him. ‘This has been…’

‘Oh! I almost forgot!’ Grace interrupted, picking up a digital camera that had clearly been placed on the hall table for the purpose. ‘We ought to capture this first meeting, don’t you think? For posterity?’ Without waiting for a response, she set atimer on the camera and placed it down, then rushed to the wall opposite. ‘That’s it! All together. And you’ll need to bend slightly George. And hold the books up!’

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