Page 46 of The Riviera House Swap
Sabine rolled her eyes at Nina. ‘Ah, but I mean… well, you came just at the moment when… Oh never mind.’
Antoine pulled out a chair. ‘I am not interrupting?’
‘No,’ said Nina quickly. ‘Not at all. Honestly.’ She watched as Pierre checked the time, and pushed his chair back. He shook hands with the man next to him and made his way to the till to pay. Then, popping his wallet into his jacket pocket, he strode out of the brasserie without a second glance.
‘Ah, she missed her chance!’ said Sabine, frustratedly. ‘He is gone now.’
‘It’s not Antoine’s fault,’ Nina said quickly. ‘Anyway, it’s fine. There’s always tomorrow. Always somewhere else we can go.’
‘And that is why I am here,’ Antoine said excitedly. ‘I have the perfect opportunity for you.’
24
THEN
They’d met up beforehand to come to the disco en-masse – Nina, Bess, Brigitte and a few of her friends, and Bess’s pen pal Lili. Already the hall was fairly full – the whole of Year 12 had been invited, and people were dancing or sipping sparkling apple juice from plastic cups. Some kids preferred to huddle in corners, talking. A couple of boys ran around, skidding on their knees when space allowed.
It looked amazing.
Bess had convinced Nina to wear her cropped top with her combat jeans. It was a high crop and revealed all of her midriff. She’d carried it around with her since buying it three months ago, but never actually felt brave enough to wear it. Now she tugged at it a little, knowing she’d have to slip off her jacket when they got into the warm hall and reveal her belly button – and more – to the world.
But several of the girls were dressed similarly. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Inside the disco, it felt warm and sticky and sweaty, and they had to push through the dancers to get to the drinks stand. She and Bess sipped their apple juice and leaned against the wall,trying to look nonchalant, sussing out the dynamics of the party before fully participating.
‘I thought you wouldn’t come,’ said a voice in her ear.
She turned and felt a flash of pleasure. Pierre. They’d spoken several times over the past few days – once for almost twenty minutes. And she’d felt what she thought must be a ‘connection’ – the feeling that she’d known him for years. She smiled, then jumped slightly as he grabbed her hand without her realising.
‘Come with me?’ he asked.
She looked at Bess, who tipped her head ‘yes.’
Delighted, she allowed herself to be gently guided back through the dancers to the double doors and out into the night.
25
NOW
‘OK,’ said Antoine, holding the heavy, silver boule in his hand. ‘You push up your wrist and you flick.’ He tossed the ball in an arc towards a black, target ball and it landed in the grass with a thump.
‘Right,’ Nina said.
Yesterday, at lunch, Antoine had told her that he’d seen Pierre’s name on an emailed list – Antoine’s firm had sent around an email about a pétanque club – they were trying to get a team together, and Pierre’s name had been down on a list of existing club members.
When pétanque had first been mentioned, Nina hadn’t known what Antoine was talking about. But he’d explained the game and it sounded very much like carpet bowls, but with balls being tossed rather than sedately rolled.
‘Anyone can play!’ he’d said, excitedly. ‘And you can just go and say you are interested to try. They play each Sunday, and after, they go for some drinks, yes? So, it is perfect!’
‘Except…’ she’d said.
‘Except?’ he’d asked, with a wide-eyed optimism similar to his sister’s.
‘I have no idea how to do it,’ she said with a shrug. ‘And I’m rubbish at sports.’
He’d shaken his head. ‘It’s not true,’ he said. ‘Nobody can be truly bad at pétanque. Not so bad as not to play in any case. You do not need to beat him. Just talk to him.’
She’d nodded. And somehow agreed that when Antoine had time off from his work, she would let him teach her. ‘I taught Theo when he was just eight years old,’ he’d said. ‘I am sure I can help you.’ He’d suggested they go to the pétanque courts at the park, but she’d asked instead if they could start with some basic throwing in the garden. She wasn’t ready for any sort of audience yet.
