The Girl from Vichy - Andie Newton Page 0,49

said, and she turned to me. ‘About the… Well, you know…’

She laughed. ‘You can say it,’ she said. ‘The wedding night?’

‘All right. The wedding night. Are you nervous?’

Henri was tall and slender with soft features, not the rugged type. It never crossed my mind that he’d be anything other than gentle. Still, I was curious.

Charlotte inhaled deeply, holding her arms to her chest, smiling. ‘I can’t wait.’ She looked at me. ‘When you’re in love there’s no time for nerves. It’ll be just me and Henri, and nobody else in the world. Just… us.’

Suddenly it felt as if Charlotte didn’t have one night left, but had already gone. She felt years away, not my sister, but a woman. A married woman from the city.

‘I want a thousand babies!’ She lit up. ‘All with his brown eyes. Lots and lots of babies. Henri wants a thousand too. All for France. Did I tell you how Henri proposed? It was in the evening, and the sun had just begun to set…’

‘I know,’ I said, taking a drag. ‘You’ve told me a hundred times.’

‘Oh, have I?’ She laughed. ‘I’m just teasing you. I know I have.’ She paused, and then put her hand on my knee and sat there for many minutes, staring into the dark vineyard.

‘I’m going to miss this, Charlotte,’ I said. ‘Me and you…’

She threw her arms around me. ‘I’ll always be your sister,’ she said. ‘Always.’

A rustling on the patio startled me. ‘Hallo?’ I snubbed out my cigarette and got up, listening in the dark. Peat and sour grapes wafted warmly in the air, and then the fresh burn of sweet tobacco.

‘Luc?’ I said, and he turned around slowly from the other side of the patio.

‘What are you doing out here?’ I said, as he smoked his cigarette.

He slid over, patting the empty space next to him for me to sit down. That’s when I noticed the kitchen window was ajar and he was just a few feet away from where Mama and me were talking. My stomach dropped, and I felt very embarrassed. And when he looked at me in the dark, cigarette smoking from his lips with his reflecting eyes, I felt exposed and vulnerable.

I sat down, tucking my skirt under my legs. ‘Hallo.’

‘Hallo,’ he said.

‘How long have you been out here,’ I said, fishing to see exactly what he’d heard.

He blew smoke from the corner of his mouth. ‘Not long.’

‘Oh?’ I said.

‘Yes,’ he said.

I looked out into the dark vineyard, not sure what to say or how to react, legs pushed into my chest, but then sat up straight. ‘Can I have one?’ I said, and I motioned to his cigarette.

He smiled, reaching into his back pocket for paper, and then the other pocket for the tobacco.

‘What are you doing out here?’ I finally asked.

‘I could ask you the same thing,’ he said, and a surprised little gasp came from my mouth, almost laughing.

‘No, you couldn’t,’ I said, and now he was the one laughing.

‘Why not?’

‘Because this is my patio,’ I said.

‘Oh…’ he said.

I watched him roll me a cigarette, sprinkling in the tobacco he pulled from his pouch, and then move the paper to his lips to seal it. I hesitated when he offered it to me, both our fingers on the same cigarette, which I was sure he noticed. ‘Thanks,’ I said, pulling away, and he struck his lighter and we smoked together.

‘Mama said you’re set up in the barrel cellar,’ I said, and he nodded. ‘Have you been here long?’

‘Long enough to know you were in Lyon,’ he said, looking at me. ‘With the sisters.’

‘Mama told you that?’ I said. ‘What else did she say?’

‘What was it like?’ he said. ‘You’re so…’

‘So what?’ I said, back straightening.

‘Beautiful,’ he said, and I shoved my cigarette into my mouth, puffing nervously, thankful he couldn’t see me blushing in the dark. ‘Has nobody told you?’

‘Not the way you just did,’ I said.

I’d heard a fleeting twinge of a British accent, which surprised me. ‘Where are you from? Not Vichy, are you?’ I said, but I was sure he was from somewhere far away.

‘I’m not from Vichy,’ he said, pausing, smiling.

‘And…’

‘And that’s all.’ He laughed. ‘I can’t tell you where I’m from.’

‘Well it’s only fair since you know where I’m from,’ I said, but he didn’t look like he was going to give in. ‘How about this… What do you miss the most from where you’re from?’

‘That’s a hard one,’ he said, but then took a deep

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