Page 66 of The Bordeaux Book Club
He had the good sense to blush a bit. ‘Well, I thought it might be a good time to make an appointment. Adeline does evenings.’
In the three weeks since their conversation, Nathan had been true to his word. Upfront about the times when he was going to meet his counsellor rather than giving a vague excuse as to why he was popping out yet again.
This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? It would have been nice if he’d told her sooner what he’d intended, though. She’d hoped he might stay and say hello to everyone.
It was her fault, she thought, pulling the cork out of the wine as his car crunched out of the driveway. She should have said something rather than assuming he’d want to meet them all. He surely would have stayed if she’d asked him.
She took a deep, shuddering breath and poured herself a glass of wine. It made sense to taste it – make sure it was up to the standards set by Grace and Monica, after all. She took a slug and decided that yes, this was definitely going to make the cut.
An hour later, and two glasses down, she was sitting in her living room, feeling a little embarrassed of her slightly worn leather sofas and the parquet floor that was in need of a good polish. But George had commented on the dresser she’d painstakingly chalk-painted herself – said it looked brilliant. Which had been lovely to hear.
When she and Nathan had chosen the house, she’d told herself she was above ‘house envy’ and having to have everythingperfect. It was all about life, living, trying to be sustainable. And so many people she’d met over here lived in houses where their taste could be described as ‘eclectic’ if you were being kind, and ‘chaotic’ if you were being realistic. It didn’t seem to matter in the same way.
Yet somehow, she’d managed to befriend Grace – queen of the perfect paint job and tasteful décor – and now Monica, who lived in an apartment that felt like the floor of an expensive hotel. Alfie’s place – well, they hadn’t seen that. And she wasn’t sure what George was going to do when it was his turn to host. But, as they’d entered, she’d felt the difference between her place and the others they’d been to keenly.
The antique refectory table with its long, smooth benches either side was practical and in-keeping with the house, but hardly a match for Monica’s designer cream furnishings or Grace’s tastefully upholstered chairs. The enamel stove – her pride and joy – looked rather old fashioned suddenly. Was it all a bit too rustic?
She’d decided to host in the living room, but there, too, things seemed a little down at heel. The vintage sofas they’d sourced from abrocante, and thechaise-longueshe’d been unable to resist at a local auction looked mismatched. She’d dragged a coffee table into the centre and half pulled the curtains so that the bright sunlight wouldn’t highlight the dancing dust particles that seemed to endure, no matter what. It would have to do.
‘Sorry it’s a bit of a mess,’ she’d said, as George had leaned down to kiss her cheek hello on his arrival.
‘Don’t be daft,’ he’d said. ‘I love these old, stone houses.’
She’d said something similar to Monica, who’d smiled and said it was beautiful, but who was dressed more smartly than usual in linen trousers and a silk top, and looked quite out-of-place on the tired sofa.
Grace had arrived five minutes late – so unlike her – but had otherwise seemed to all intents and purposes her usual self, handing Leah a box of chocolates and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
‘Sorry again,’ Leah found herself saying.
‘It’s fine,’ Grace had waved her hand dismissively.
Alfie had yet to arrive.
She’d poured wine for them all and set out a range of nibbles on the coffee table. Earlier, she’d asked Scarlett if she might come down and say hello, but had received the kind of look she’d thought she might – a kind of amused, pitying, incredulous one. Still, she’d tried.
‘No Nathan tonight?’ Grace said now.
Leah wasn’t sure if she was being pointed. Everything seemed pointed at the moment.
‘No, he’s out,’ she said with a smile to show that this was fine with her. ‘Thought he’d make himself scarce.’
‘And you found a babysitter in the end?’ Grace remarked to Monica.
‘Yes. She was free after all. Thank goodness!’ She smiled.
‘You’d have been welcome to bring Bella, if not,’ Leah reminded her. ‘I’d love to see her again. I’m sure we all would.’
She was yet to tell Grace that she’d finally confronted Nathan. Even though it had been a few days ago, she hadn’t been able to face up to uttering the words. It was odd – because the mystery, such as it was, had been solved. And everything was fine. She just didn’t feel like talking about it.
She took another sip of wine.
‘Shall we start?’ she said, looking at the group. ‘I’ve sent Alfie a text but nothing yet. He’ll probably be along but…’
The rest of them murmured their agreement.
‘Well,’ said Grace, leaning forward slightly, her enormous, beaded necklace swinging precariously close to the glass of wineshe’d set on the coffee table. ‘I did enjoy reading it again. But I just wish things had ended better for the poor love.’
‘Poor love being…?’
