Page 33 of Lost in Translation
‘Rumour has it that her marriage is in trouble,’ Pamela continued. ‘A friend of a friend saw her with Derek in that swanky Michelin-starred restaurant up in Verbier. Apparently they were going at it hammer and tongs; so much so that a waiter asked them to quieten down or leave.’
‘Lots of couples have arguments,’ said Charlotte. Not that she could recall the last time she’d really argued with Dom. It was hard to argue with someone you barely saw. But having a full-blown war of words in a public place wasn’t something she could imagine doing.
‘That’s not all.’ Pamela glanced around, as if expecting Alicia to pirouette into view and clobber her with a Louboutin. ‘Ialsoheard that Derek’s been spotted out and about … with a man!’ She sat back with a satisfied sigh.
‘And that proves what, exactly?’ Sadie bit into a sausage and scooped up a mouthful of coleslaw. ‘He’s a successful businessman who must do a lot of wining and dining with other high-flyers.’
‘Ha, but is it normal to hold hands with them?’ Pamela’s eyes glittered, her delight at delivering a killer punchline etched on her face.
Before either Charlotte or Sadie could react, Alastair and Robson bounded over. ‘Mummy, Rick says we can go for a walk with him to see some donkeys. Can we, please?’
‘There are two decrepit old dears in a field about five minutes away,’ said Sadie. ‘They’re a bit moth-eaten, but friendly enough if you tempt them with some apple slices.’
Charlotte checked her watch; still plenty of time before she needed to get the boys to bed.
‘OK. Have you had pudding yet?’
The boys nodded as Rick approached with his girls in tow and a bag of chopped apples. ‘Right, guys. All good with your mum? Excellent. We won’t be long, Charlotte. Rebecca and Elspeth declined the offer to see Hee and Haw. I think they’ve taken refuge in the TV den.’
With Rick and the donkey posse on their way out, Pamela returned to her original topic. ‘I always thought he was a bit, you know, effeminate. The way he walks, and I’m sure he checked out Martin’s bottom once when we were at a school social.’
Charlotte had heard enough. Getting to her feet, she mumbled something about needing to burn off some calories. ‘Wait for me!’ she called to Rick, leaving Pamela and Sadie to carry on chatting — or bitching. If Alicia’s marriagewasin crisis, Charlotte didn’t want to be part of analysing its demise.
Chapter 28
‘What do you think of this?’Sadie did a twirl in the lightweight chambray dress she’d picked up from the bargain rail of the quirky French boutique. It was day two of summer camp, and she, Charlotte and Pamela had driven together to the small market town of Divonne-Les-Bains.
‘Pretty,’ replied Charlotte, flipping through a pile of pastel-coloured vest tops reduced to half price. ‘Have you seen anything nice, Pamela?’
Pamela shook her head. She’d been in a funny mood during the journey, giving tetchy answers to questions and gazing at her phone as if waiting for an urgent call. ‘My wardrobe’s packed already, and half of it doesn’t fit me any more.’ She pinched her waist and pulled a face.
‘You should join my Zumba class,’ said Sadie, who was an enviable size eight at the most. ‘I spent the first few sessions tripping over my own feet, but it’s great fun and burns loads of calories.’
‘Ha,’ snorted Pamela. ‘You’re talking to the most uncoordinated woman on the planet. We bought the girls an old Nintendo Wii system on eBay, because Martin thought it would be fun to challenge each other at stuff. They get all the shiny gold stars, and I get sweet Fanny Adams. I swear the bloody virtual yoga instructor smirked when I fell off the balance board doing a one-legged pose.’
Purchases made, the trio headed for a bistro highly rated on Trip Advisor, both for the quality of the food and the prices. ‘I absolutely adore escargots,’ drooled Sadie, as they perused the menu. It was good value, with two courses for fifteen Euros and three for nineteen.
‘Yuck and double yuck,’ retorted Pamela. ‘How anyone can enjoy those nasty, slimy things is beyond me. When you see them slithering around, leaving those silvery trails, it’s revolting.’
In response, Sadie stuck out her tongue.
Charlotte thought Pamela’s remark was bordering on rude — not that she was a fan of snails herself. ‘I’ll have the mixed salad to start, followed by the ravioli tricolore,’ she said. Pamela opted for the same, with Sadie choosing six escargots in garlic butter as a starter, with veal Milanese for her entrée.
An hour later, they piled back into Sadie’s people carrier. Their children were all competing in a five-a-side football tournament at the camp and had insisted that mums (and dads) attend to cheer them on.
‘I hope it doesn’t go on forever,’ moaned Pamela. ‘Elspeth can’t kick a ball to save her life, and Rebecca would be rubbish in goal. Why couldn’t they run something else for the girls, like rounders?’
‘Because the school believes in equality, both in the classroom and on the sports field,’ replied Sadie, beeping her horn at a driver hogging the middle lane of the motorway. ‘Anyway, I doubt it’ll be more than an hour, and then we can get the wee blighters home.’
Dozens of parents sat around the pitch, some on picnic blankets spread out on the grass. A few had even brought picnics. Sadie unearthed an ancient tartan rug from the boot of her car and they spread it out in a quieter corner. Charlotte scanned the field, spotting Alastair and Robson huddled with their teammates. She waved furiously, but they were deep in conversation.
‘Looks like Marcus is refereeing,’ said Charlotte, indicating Jürgen’s son with a whistle in his hand in the middle of the pitch. Two teams were playing, one from La Montagne and the other from another local private school. The La Montagne team wore their respective house colour T-shirts, with the opposition teams distinctive in their navy-blue and white striped tops.
‘Can you see your girls?’ asked Charlotte, nudging Sadie, who was passing around a tin of extra-strong mints.
‘Probably hiding in the bathroom, knowing those two,’ she replied. ‘No, miracle of miracles, there they are!’ Sure enough, Miranda and Louise appeared from behind a cluster of parents screaming encouragement at the players.
‘Looks like that match is over,’ said Pamela, as Marcus blew the final whistle. They didn’t know the score, but judging by the whoops and cheers from some familiar faces, the home team had won.
