Page 50 of The Bordeaux Book Club

‘This really is lovely wine, Monica,’ Grace said generously.

‘Thanks. Peter’s quite the wine enthusiast,’ she said.

There was a noise on the baby monitor and Monica stared at it for a moment, before the little cry became a snuffle, then went silent once more.

‘How’s Bella?’ Leah asked.

‘Fine. Keeps me sane,’ Monica said with a small smile.

‘And Peter’s back…?’

‘Soon.’

They all nodded.

‘You must have so much to keep you busy,’ Grace said. ‘This gorgeous apartment, right in the centre. Bella. It must be wonderful.’

Monica shrugged. ‘It’s alright.’ A look crossed her face and she opened her mouth as if to say something more, but closed it again.

‘Are you…’ Leah began, but was interrupted by the door opening again.

Alfie stood there, already in his jacket. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Gotta go. That was my mum; she needs a hand with something.’ He looked at Camille. ‘Do you want to come? Or stay? I don’t mind.’

‘I will stay, I think,’ she said, getting up and kissing him on the mouth, as if to remove any doubt that she was his girlfriend rather than just a beautiful friend he’d set his hopes on. ‘But I will come to you later, yes?’

‘OK.’ Alfie said. ‘Bye all. And, well… sorry.’

‘No problem,’ said Grace, as if it was her apartment Alfie was leaving. ‘See you again soon.’

The door slammed behind him, and they could hear his footsteps as he practically ran down the stairs. The room fell silent for a moment, and Leah picked up her wine and took a generous gulp. Grace was driving her home tonight and she may as well make the most of it. Putting the wine back down on the table, she smiled at the rest of the group.

‘Wasn’t it Alfie’s turn to choose the next book?’ she said. ‘I meant to ask him. I can probably email…’

‘Ah, I know which book he choose,’ Camille said. ‘At first, he cannot decide between a book about a man who live in an old people home, and another about a woman who is not happy in her marriage. But then I say that perhaps it is good that you read a French book. Not in French of course,’ she said, acknowledging all of their language-related inadequacy with sympathy, ‘but one that is translated.Madame Bovary– you know this?’

‘Perfect!’ Grace clapped her hands together. ‘Another great classic!’

‘Never heard of it,’ George said.

‘Oh, I think you’ll like it,’ Grace told him. ‘I’ve got it at home actually, if you’d like to borrow a copy?’

‘Yeah, thanks. Maybe I can pick it up when I pop in tomorrow?’ he said.

Grace coloured. ‘Yes, um, if you happen to be passing,’ she said. ‘If you need to be in the area for… something else, perhaps?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ he said.

Grace cleared her throat. ‘Anyway, well, that seems like a good choice, Camille. As long as Alfie is OK with it.’

‘Oui, yes. Of course.’

Grace shook her head. ‘That boy is full of surprises,’ she said. ‘Goes to show you can’t judge someone on their appearance. Ididn’t think Alfie would even come back after our first session. And when I imagined what book he’d choose, I thought he’d go down the horror route, or something. Yet here we are.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Camille smiled.

‘More to the boy than meets the eye,’ Grace said, thoughtfully. ‘Although he does seem to be…’

‘A bit of a mummy’s boy?’ George suggested.

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