Page 42 of A French Country Escape
‘A bottle of champagne for you all to share as a thank you from Stella and Bastian for a wonderful evening and delicious food. You’ll have to pour it yourself though, I have to get back to the bar. Lucas and Alice have theirs in the orangery.’
Minutes later, the four of them were raising their glasses in a toast to the happy couple and enjoying some leftover canapés.
Afterwards, Sasha and Jean-Paul packed the vintage plates away. As Sasha closed the cupboard door, she looked at Jean-Paul. ‘Supper, demain soir? Huit heures?’
Jean-Paul smiled and nodded. ‘Merci. I see you at eight o’clock.’
Overhearing Jean-Paul speaking English, Penny gave Sasha a discreet thumbs up. They’d only met recently, but she liked Sasha a lot and had a feeling that they would easily become best friends the more time she, Penny, spent in France.
The low background sound of guitar music could be heard drifting out of the orangery. Lucas, bringing some dirty glasses through, said, ‘I leave the door a bit open so you hear the next song, maybe have a look. Stella and Bastian are going to sing a duet, not have a first dance. Apparently, they are both professional cabaret singers – that how they meet.’
Hearing the first chords of ‘Je t’aime… moi non plus’, the song made famous by Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin, they all moved closer to the door and slowly opened it fully to watch. Stella and Bastian were standing close together, gazing lovingly at each other, Bastian’s eyes never leaving Stella’s face as he strummed on his guitar. As they started to sing, everyone fell silent and, enraptured, watched as two people sang as if they were the only people there, leaving everyone who witnessed theperformance in no doubt about how much in love with each other they were.
‘Wow,’ Penny murmured as they moved back and closed the connecting door. ‘That was something else.’
Lucas moved to her side. ‘A once-in-a-life sort of love, I think.’
‘The kind of love everyone hopes for,’ Penny said.
‘You said to ask you out after the wedding,’ Lucas said quietly. ‘Have lunch with me one day soon?’
Penny turned to look at him. ‘Thank you. That would be lovely.’
31
The next morning, after her usual dog walk to the boulangerie for breakfast croissants and baguettes, Sasha decided she’d spend the day quietly at the cottage and take Mimi and Mitzi for a walk at noon rather than wait until evening, then they could play in the garden. Alice had asked her if she could design and print out a dozen or so posters for the 14 July fete, so she’d spend time working on that. Then, this evening, Jean-Paul was coming for supper. Last night as she’d left the château kitchen, Penny had pressed a couple of plastic containers into her hands. ‘For you and Jean-Paul to enjoy’ – so supper was sorted. It felt a bit like cheating, but Sasha consoled herself with the thought that wedding leftovers were a definite step up from anything she could produce.
By midday she’d finished a simple design for the poster and emailed a photo of it to Alice. Clipping the puppies onto their leads, she started to walk down to the stables. There was no sign of Colette, so she made Mimi and Mitzi sit and stay while she stroked Starlight and fed her a carrot before giving both the dogs a small treat for being good.
Sasha strolled out through the main gates and turned right to walk the three hundred metres along the road to reach the back lane. Once she was several metres down theroute du galopshe let both Mimi and Mitzi off their leads and they raced backwards and forwards. Sasha smiled as she watched Mitzi stop and sniff a cabbage white butterfly resting on a blackberry bush leaf before gracefully flying away.
Sasha spent some of the afternoon pottering in the garden. It was a little breezy, but still warm in the sun. She loved how the two gardens were responding to her and Freddie’s hard work although, to be fair, it was mostly down to Freddie’s gardening experience and knowledge. She’d done little more than pull a few weeds, like she was doing now.
Making herself a cup of tea, she sat down on the terrace and opened the French lesson book she’d ignored for weeks. In truth, it was easier to use the app on her phone when she needed to say something, but she’d try to memorise a few phrases for tonight.
She peeled some potatoes, ready to boil later for mash to accompany the generous portions of boeuf bourguignon that Penny had given her, and she prepared the fresh green beans, ready to steam. She’d remembered to take both the brie and the camembert out of the fridge, and there was a bowl of green salad with olives to go with that course. Dessert – tiramisu – was again courtesy of Penny, and there were two petits fours each to go with coffee.
After her shower, Sasha set the terrace table and smiled to herself as she opened a bottle of red wine to breathe – that was something she’d learnt to do since moving to France.
The boeuf bourguignon was heating through gently in the oven and Sasha had just finished mashing the potatoes when she heard a car arriving. Quickly, she covered the potatoes to keep them warm, put the beans on to steam, and went out to greet Jean-Paul. Climbing out of his classic 2CV car, he greetedher with two cheek kisses and handed her a box of artisan chocolates.
‘Merci beaucoup,’ Sasha said. ‘I love your car. It’s such a French icon.’ She realised Jean-Paul was looking at her and shaking his head, puzzled. ‘J’adore votre voiture,’ she said slowly and carefully, remembering the word for car.
‘Ah, merci. It belonged to my papa,’ Jean-Paul said. ‘I restore it.’
They were seated out on the terrace sipping a glass of wine and waiting for the beans to finish cooking when Jean-Paul smiled at her.
‘I see thetrompe l’œilsyou paint.Tu as vraiment du talent.’
‘Merci. I loved painting them. Excuse me, I’ll fetch supper.’
‘I help you,’ Jean-Paul said, instantly on his feet.
Between them, they took the food out to the table and settled down together to enjoy the meal.
‘Freddie, he is not home tonight?’ Jean-Paul asked.
‘Non. I think he is seeing Maddie, his girlfriend. Do you know Maddie? Or her parents? They live in the village.’
