Page 27 of The Riviera House Swap
A young man with light-brown hair, wearing a checked, short-sleeved shirt with shorts and trainers, appeared at her side, a few moments after she’d called the number Jean-Luc had given her.
‘Antoine?’ she said.
‘Yes, that’s me,’ he said in rapid French, brandishing a key on a red ribbon. ‘Jean-Luc, my brother, said I should give you the key and check if you have any questions.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, only catching every second word with her rusty A-level French, but getting the gist.
He smiled, his brown eyes shining, as he handed her the key and said something else she didn’t quite catch.
‘I’m sorry, could you speak a little slower,monsieur?’ she asked.
‘Ah, of course,’ he said. ‘I can speak English, too, if you like?’
‘No, I’d like to practice,’ she said, thinking about the sweet nothings she could whisper with Pierre in the language of love should her plan come to fruition.
He nodded, leaning past her and unlocking the door. He smelled of the outdoors: fresh, and clean with a hint of woods and the sea. Having turned the key and gently pushed the door open, he stepped back and gestured for her to go through.
The interior was beautiful – wooden beams ran the length of the ceiling, and the floors were polished parquet. There was a small living area with two cream-coloured sofas propped at angles, a wood-burner in the corner, bookshelves and a tiny TV. The other half of the room was given over to a worn, oak table with a bench either side, a few decorative ceramic balls in a gold-coloured dish at its centre.
‘The kitchen is to the right,’ said Antoine, indicating with his hand. ‘And you will find three rooms upstairs. The biggest bedroom is Jean-Luc’s, which he says you must use. There is a smaller room and an office – but I think you are here for pleasure, not work?’
‘Definitely pleasure,’ she said, smiling. Then blushing when he fixed his blue eyes on her. ‘A holiday,’ she added hastily.
He nodded, a small smile on his lips. ‘Well, call me if you need any help with the house, or advice about the village,’ he said. ‘You have come here before?’
‘Yes, but not for…’ Nina looked at Antoine’s face. He didn’t look any older than thirty-five and she was embarrassed suddenly by the twenty-three years she had been about to say, and its implication about her age. ‘Gosh, it must be more than fifteen years,’ she said, thinking of how Bess would snort when she heard this. ‘I was seventeen,’ she added.
He nodded. ‘Well, perhaps not so much has changed,’ he smiled. ‘I have lived here just three years, since I start work at Jean-Luc’s garage, so I don’t remember those times. But it is a nice place.’ He shrugged. ‘And I think you will find there is plenty to entertain you, even in this cold weather.’
‘Cold weather? I came from England, remember,’ she quipped. ‘This is like a summer’s day for me!’
He laughed. ‘Then do not forget your sun cream,’ he said. ‘You do not want to get burnt.’
She was smiling when she closed the door a few moments later. Antoine had refused her offer of a drink, which was probably a good thing as she hadn’t made it as far as the supermarket yet, but left with a cheery ‘au revoir’ and a repetition of his request that she contact him should the need arise.
Once he was gone, she checked out the rest of the property, running up the stairs to peek in the spare room, the office, and Jean-Luc’s room, which was enormous, with a huge, king-size bed decked out with fresh, clean linen. She stopped a moment to wonder what someone with such a beautiful, perfect living space had made of her Victorian terrace but decided to put the thoughts to the back of her mind. He would simply think it was ‘quirky’ and ‘olde worlde’ rather than in need of a lick of paint. Probably.
Instead, once she’d managed to locate the coffee and make herself a steaming mugful, she opened her laptop on the oak table and signed into Jean-Luc’s Wi-Fi. There, she pulled up the picture of Pierre again, as if to remind herself why she was here.
‘Bonjour,mon coeur,’ she said as his gorgeous visage appeared on her screen.
Now there was nothing between her and her plan to track down this middle-aged version of her former crush, she felt her nerves begin to set in. Was she being completely insane?
The determination that had driven her to almost quit her job and swap her house with a French mechanic began to wane and, as she sipped, she reminded herself she wasn’t solely here for him. She was here for the experience, the culture. If she wanted, she could abandon the Pierre plan altogether.
QUEST FOR PIERRE
Pros:
He’s gorgeous and successful
I’ll always wonder if I don’t try
Maybe we were fated to be together(?)
Cons:
It’s crazy
