Page 24 of Lost in Translation
‘The locusts?’ Jürgen looked puzzled, turning to Charlotte for an explanation.
She laughed, and pointed at a dripping Alastair and Robson, wrapped in beach towels and heading for the food. ‘He means the children. Once they get stuck in, we’ll be scrambling for leftovers.’
Jürgen made his way to the table, stepping aside to let Juliette and her husband go first. They each picked up plastic plates and cutlery and began helping themselves.
‘He seems all right,’ said Dom, retrieving an unopened bottle of beer from his shorts pocket. ‘No partner then, or has he waved the white flag after two failed marriages?’
Charlotte bit back an angry retort. She was sure she’d told Dom about Jürgen losing his first wife in an accident, but he’d no doubt forgotten. Or he hadn’t been listening, which was more likely. But before she could speak, Antoine let out an eardrum-piercing whistle, and clapped like a demented seal.
‘Fashionably late as always, sweetpea,’ he announced, as a familiar figure rounded the corner of the house. Amelie, pretty as a picture in a vintage-looking pink halter-neck dress and silver espadrilles. Charlotte eyed the perfectly arranged ribbons wrapped around Amelie’s perfectly shaped calves and wondered why she could never get the bloody things to stay in place.
‘I ordered an Uber, but the idiot got lost and took me to another Chemin des Vignerons,’ Amelie huffed. She and Antoine did the usual three-way kiss, then she picked her way across the grass towards Dom and Charlotte.
‘I am so sorry to be late,’ she said, holding out a heavily bangled hand to Charlotte. ‘You must be Charlotte, although perhaps I am making the wrong assumption?’
‘Yes, this is my wife,’ said Dom, rather formally. He leaned forward as if to kiss Amelie on the cheek, but then shook her hand instead. She offloaded a canvas bag from her shoulder and passed it to Charlotte.
‘Just a little something for the party, and for the hostess,’ she said. ‘The proprietaire — I mean, the owner — of the other house was a little surprised when I turned up bearing gifts. And as she was maybe seventy years old, I thought it unlikely to be you!’ Amelie gave a tinkling laugh, and Dom joined in.
Charlotte attempted a smile, but her facial muscles struggled to respond. ‘Thank you,’ she said, pulling out a very expensive bottle of champagne and an exquisitely wrapped box of chocolates. ‘Now, what can we get you to drink?’
‘I’ll deal with it, darling,’ said Dom. ‘You help yourself to some food, and I’ll check if the sausage rolls are ready.’
Before Charlotte could reply, Dom and Amelie made their way to the drinks area where buckets of rapidly melting ice housed the beers.I’ll check if the sausage rolls are ready?That was a first. Would Dom even know if they were ready? She checked her watch. They could probably do with a few more minutes.
‘Can I help with anything?’ Pamela appeared, with twins Rebecca and Elspeth in tow.
‘I’m bored,’ said Rebecca, blowing a stray strand of hair off her sweaty face.
‘Don’t be so rude!’ admonished Pamela. ‘Have something to eat or a dip in the pool. You remembered your swimming costumes, didn’t you?’ The pair shuffled off into the house, no doubt in search of their swimming stuff.
‘No, everything’s under control, thanks,’ said Charlotte. ‘It’s a shame Martin couldn’t make it.’
On arrival, Pamela had apologised for his absence. ‘Summer flu, or man flu, to be more accurate. The slightest sniffle and he takes to his bed and expects to be waited on hand and foot. I left him with a flask of boiling water, a box of Lemsip and a fully charged iPad.’
Pamela scanned the twenty or so adults milling around the terrace and garden. Her gaze fell on Jürgen, tucking into a plateful of food and chatting to Rick. Her mouth tightened, as did her grip on the plastic champagne flute. ‘So you invitedhim.’ Pamela spat out the last word, as if its presence in her mouth was too foul to bear.
‘Yes, I did. I think he’s OK when you get to know him.’
Before Pamela could press Charlotte onhowshe’d got to know him, Charlotte remembered the sausage rolls. Having little faith in Dom, she excused herself and hurried to the kitchen.
‘Oh, hello again!’ Amelie was leaning against the worktop, nibbling a carrot stick. ‘I was just saying to Dom that these look delicious.’ She pointed at the sausage rolls, which were ever so slightly blackened round the edges. ‘What a clever husband you have.’ She smiled coquettishly at Dom, who stood a few feet away, a plate in one hand and a kitchen slice in the other. Charlotte noted her eyelashes fluttering at warp speed and felt an urge to snatch the kitchen slice from Dom and clobber Amelie with it.
‘I’ll take these outside,’ he said. ‘Have you eaten yet, Charlotte? Amelie, why don’t you take one before they disappear?’ She shook her head, once again smiling at Dom in a way that made Charlotte’s hackles rise.
Dom headed off with the sausage rolls, leaving Charlotte alone with Amelie. Unsure what to say, Charlotte ran boiling water into the sinkful of dirty pots and oven trays and doused them liberally with washing-up liquid.
‘Can I help?’ Amelie stood next to her, Charlotte catching a whiff of her summery floral perfume. She realised she’d forgotten to squirt on her own perfume and prayed she didn’t smell as sweaty as she felt.
‘No, you’re fine. Thank you. Erm, so you worked with Dom before? In England, I mean.’
Amelie gave her the look a cat gives a bird seconds before it goes in for the kill. ‘Yes, we worked together. Very well.’
Charlotte focused on scouring the quiche dish, determined to remove every trace of stubborn pastry and distract herself from the thumping in her head.Very well. What the actual fuck did that mean?
‘And you’re happy to be here working alongside him again?’ She knew she was straying into dangerous territory, but Charlotte needed to hear it from the horse’s mouth. Even if the said horse was more menacing mustang than pert pony.
‘I am. We are an excellent team. We work well together. Weallwork well together.’ Amelie’s bracelets jangled — as did Charlotte’s nerves — as she snatched up a tea towel and wiped down the few items stacked in the drying rack before placing them on the worktop. ‘Now, shall we return to the party?’
