Page 67 of The Bordeaux Book Club

‘Emma, of course. All the girl is doing is looking for happiness. Instead, she’s trapped in a marriage with boring Charles – when she wants something… well, more than that.’

They nodded.

‘Yeah but,’ George said, clearing his throat. ‘The guy didn’t do anything wrong, did he? He couldn’t help being a bit boring.’

‘Well, perhaps he should have chosen a boring wife?’ Grace said, raising a challenging eyebrow. ‘Emma needs more than Charles can give her. It’s no wonder she went looking for someone else to fill that void. He shouldn’t have been so greedy.’

‘Touché,’ George said with a smile. ‘I get what you’re saying. And I know things were different back then. Women didn’t have so many… options. But he was never – he never pretended to be anything he wasn’t. She got what it said on the tin. An unambitious doctor.’

‘A girl could do worse,’ Monica quipped. ‘Obviously, I get that she wantedmore, but it was all a bit of a fantasy, wasn’t it? Too many romance novels, not enough real life.’

‘Yes, we don’t want her fragile, female brain getting overloaded, now, do we?’ Grace said. ‘Poor woman. No wonder she wanted to break free from the kind of life she was expected to lead!’

‘I can’t believe people thought romance novels would pollute women’s brains back then,’ Monica giggled. ‘What a weird time to be alive.’ She took a sip of wine and shook her head. ‘Glad I was born in a more modern era.’

‘Mind you, they still call a lot of books in this genre, women’s fiction,’ said Grace. ‘There’s still that insinuation that men wouldn’t be interested in women’s little stories.’

‘Yeah, that seems old-fashioned,’ George said, brow furrowed. ‘One of the lads saw my book and took the… laughed at me. Because it had a painting on the cover. He said it was girly. And maybe I’d’ve thought that too before this group, you know? But I’m really getting to like reading this stuff.’

‘Me too,’ said Monica.

They all agreed that romance books definitely had more to them than many people thought.

‘Maybe you’re right about Charles,’ Leah said to Grace. ‘I mean, he’s an OK bloke. He loves her. He proposed. But she didn’t say yes for the right reasons. Maybe if she had, he’d have found someone equally… equally…’

‘Dull?’

‘Ha. Yes. So maybe he’s a victim of the times they lived in too – she didn’t have choices open to her, so married someone who couldn’t make her happy. And if she’d had more choices, maybe they’d both have been happier.’

‘I feel sorry for their daughter,’ Monica said. ‘She’s a doctor’s daughter and she ends up… practically destitute once both her parents die. It’s like nobody thought about her at all.’

There was a knock on the door. ‘Hang on,’ Leah said, standing up to get it. She realised she felt a little unsteady –no more wine, she thought to herself firmly.

Alfie stood on the doorstep, dressed in shorts and a crumpled T-shirt. ‘Sorry we’re late,’ he said. He clutched a dog-eared copy ofMadame Bovary. Camille stood next to him, her arm linked in his.

‘Everything alright?’ Grace asked as they entered.

‘Yeah,’ Alfie said.

‘We were just helping his mother with some food,’ Camille said.

The others made space on the sofa and Leah brought another chair in from the kitchen for Camille. She poured both thenewcomers a glass of wine and they sat for a moment in silence, the conversation yet to resume.

‘We were just talking,’ Leah said, taking a sip of her wine before remembering she’d vowed not to do that, ‘about Charles and how he’s kind of a victim too in the novel.’

Alfie nodded. ‘I get that. He can’t help being boring.’

Camille laughed. ‘It sound like you think you are boring, Alfie,’ she said affectionately.

He grinned, slightly self-conscious. ‘Well, if the cap fits.’

‘Mais non!’ she exclaimed. ‘You are a very interesting man. You must not talk yourself down like this.’

‘Amen to that,’ George said, his voice coming out more loudly than even he expected. ‘Sorry,’ he added, with a grin. ‘Anyway, boring is underrated if you ask me.’

Monica snorted. ‘You think?’

‘Yeah,’ George shifted slightly in his chair. ‘I get that books need interesting characters. But in real life, I mean. There’s nothing wrong with being… well, stable at least.’

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