A Wedding in Provence: From the #1 bestselling author of uplifting feel-good fiction
A Wedding in Provence: Chapter 11

Some days later, at lunchtime, Alexandra was in the kitchen stirring the soup that David had started making that morning and had set on the wood range to cook. Alexandra had left the library, now a schoolroom, where she had been helping David with his Shakespeare lesson. It had involved an awful lot of laughing – not something Alexandra had previously associated with Shakespeare – and people taking parts and reading aloud. Everyone had thoroughly enjoyed themselves. Jack had joined them briefly and then carried Henri away for a music lesson. The chateau was now a very different place from how it had been when Alexandra had first arrived.

Antoine came in as Alexandra was putting baguettes into a basket and arranging cheese on to a plate.

‘Well, that’s that done!’ said Antoine. ‘I’ve invited my mother-in-law to lunch.’ He paused. ‘And I had to invite my ex-wife as well – they were together at the time. I also invited Hortense, my mother-in-law’s friend.’ He paused. ‘Will David cook, do you think?’

Alexandra nodded. ‘Or I will.’ She was a bit offended by the assumption that only David could cook. Although she’d replace cooking for those particular people single-handed a bit daunting. Everyone would watch her, possibly wanting her to fail. But she had been employed partly for her cooking skills. ‘Should you invite Maxime, too?’

‘If you’d like me to.’ He raised a Gallic eyebrow at her.

She ignored the eyebrow, knowing it meant he thought she was interested in Maxime beyond friendship. Although perhaps she should develop feelings for Maxime – he was very good-looking after all. ‘He’s extremely helpful and charming.’

‘You’re right. Maxime is a good friend and he may flatter Lucinda out of her pouting.’ He was thoughtful for a few seconds while Alexandra continued with the lunch preparations. ‘Her ego is bruised and it makes her irritable.’

‘When have you invited everyone for? I do hope it’s not today.’

‘Of course it’s not today!’ said Antoine, outraged at the suggestion that he might do such a thing. ‘It’s tomorrow.’

Alexandra made a noise, an exclamation that meant tomorrow was hardly better than today, and that she was a bit put out about it.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Antoine apologetically. ‘When we got into days that were convenient, tomorrow was the only one possible.’

‘I’m sure it’s not my place to comment on your social calendar,’ said Alexandra, her chin lifted.

Antoine seemed to replace her indignation amusing. ‘I have infinite belief in your ability to cope with any emergency,’ he said. ‘Besides, you are English: no one will expect anything wonderful.’

Alexandra pursed her lips, trying not to join in his merriment. She was part flattered, part insulted, but mostly she wanted to laugh with him.

‘Shall we have this lunch in the garden?’ she suggested.

‘Oh yes. Why not? We have a lovely spell of weather. It’s always better with the children’s grandmother if we can make it less formal.’ He watched Alexandra as she inspected a bunch of grapes. ‘How did lessons go this morning?’

‘Well! If you go to the library you can read a part. David likes everyone to join in.’

‘Is that a tactful way of asking me to leave you to do your work in peace?’ The eyebrow lifted again, and the curl at one corner of his mouth was irresistible.

Alexandra nodded, trying to be serious, but she couldn’t help returning his smile.

‘Stéphie!’ said David the next day, after twenty-four hours of cooking and a certain amount of shopping. ‘The table looks absolutely ravishing! Like an Impressionist painting. You’ve done a terrific job.’

They were on the terrace, under an awning of vines, dappled with autumn sunlight. It did indeed look like a painting, thought Alexandra. She wished it could have been for a party with jolly guests, old friends, people she liked. As it was, the guests were mainly people who were critical and made the children tense, and, as she knew from personal experience, anxious people were never at their best.

Stéphie, who was unaffected by the anxiety troubling the rest of the household, beamed. ‘Alexandra helped.’

‘You did all the hard work, darling,’ said Alexandra.

‘Grand-mère won’t like the flowery cotton napkins from the market,’ said Félicité. ‘She only likes linen.’

Alexandra had thought she liked linen too until she’d realised she would have to wash it. She needed to talk to Antoine about buying a washing machine. The chateau had probably managed perfectly well without one when there were more staff, but while it was just her and a girl from the village – whom, blessedly, Antoine had hired to help her – there needed to be more mod cons.

‘I just thought a touch of colour would be nice,’ said Alexandra. ‘And those fabrics are a very Provençal thing, after all.’

Félicité and Stéphie looked at her, bemused, for a few seconds and then went back to inspecting the table. ‘Don’t forget water,’ said Félicité.

‘The flowers are so pretty,’ said Alexandra.

‘Yes and they don’t take up too much space,’ said David. ‘There’ll be so many dishes on the table, there’s hardly room for flowers. But those little posies are just perfect.’

‘Grand-mère will say they’re weeds,’ said Félicité.

‘And we’ll say there is no such thing as a weed, only a flower in the wrong place,’ said David primly.

Félicité gave a shout of laughter Alexandra hadn’t often heard. ‘Oh, please say that, David! I can’t wait to hear what Grand-mère says in reply!’

‘They look like proper flowers to me,’ said Alexandra, seeing that Stéphie was a little offended. She tried to think of some flower names. ‘That’s a fuchsia – and isn’t that pink daisy-like thing a cosmos? And those are definitely marigolds. They look lovely!’

‘You grandmother is a starchy type, I gather?’ said Jack, arriving with two large jugs of water in his hands. ‘Still, Henri’s practised his piece for hours. He’s really gifted on the cello. She’ll be impressed by that, if nothing else. He’s almost a prodigy.’

‘Our mother will want me to play,’ said Félicité with a sigh. ‘She was disappointed with me when I was five; she’ll be even more disappointed now I’m fifteen.’

Alexandra opened her mouth to say something sharp indicating that if you wanted your daughter to learn to play the piano you should stay around to teach her, but then shut it again. She and David had had a couple of conversations on the subject. He had said, ‘I know your parents left you, Lexi darling, but they didn’t have a choice. Lucinda, of course, did have a choice, but no one ever knows what’s going on in another relationship. We shouldn’t judge.’

‘I’d be delighted to give you piano lessons, Félicité,’ said Jack. ‘Any time. It’s just Henri’s so keen with his cello. But if you want to—’

‘No, thank you,’ said Félicité. ‘I don’t like playing the piano. I just don’t want my mother being disappointed.’

‘You do have a delightful singing voice,’ went on Jack. ‘There are more ways of being musical than playing the piano. David here plays the piano perfectly well, but he doesn’t have a musical bone in his body.’

‘Do you mind?’ said David. ‘That’s an outrageous thing to say! Now I must go and check on the food. We could put some of it out now if we keep it covered. Do we know if our guests are likely to be punctual?’

Alexandra was about to say she didn’t know when Félicité replied, ‘I expect my mother will be late. And she’ll come with Grand-mère so they’ll both be late.’

‘That’s fine,’ said David. ‘I wasn’t doing a soufflé but good to know I can let the daube just bubble away. It may be too hot to eat it anyway, in which case we’ll just have cold meat and salad now, and have the daube another time.’

Alexandra followed David back into the kitchen. ‘You’ve gone to so much trouble, David,’ Alexandra began, feeling guilty that David, who was here to teach, was doing so much of the cooking, which she felt she should be doing.

‘You know I love doing it, Lexi,’ David said. ‘I love all the amazing produce, and I’ve got the kitchen to work for me now, so it’s a joy! And I think this is going to be very difficult for everyone, particularly the children.’

‘I know.’ Alexandra sighed. ‘I’m not sure who I’m most worried about, Félicité or Stéphie. Although maybe it will all go over Stéphie’s head.’

‘I don’t suppose it’ll be a barrel of laughs for you, either,’ he said.

‘But I don’t really matter!’ She laughed. ‘I do matter, of course I do, but this lunch – the children having both their parents in the same place for the first time since I don’t know when – is going to be tough. And their grandmother, who is – well – you’ll see.’

‘I’m looking forward to it. In my line of work any extreme sort of person is an opportunity to study character. Now, shall we have a little stiffener? Just us?’

Alexandra laughed. ‘Go on then. I’ll have a tiny glass of rosé and then not drink later. I just want everything to go well! For – well, for the children.’

‘And you don’t care about how it goes for the children’s father?’

Alexandra couldn’t stop herself blushing and so busied herself with tidying up the bunches of grapes that filled a huge platter. Stéphie’s grape scissors were proving a godsend. ‘I want it to go well for him too, of course, but he can look after himself. The children need me.’

‘Although Antoine would do a perfectly good job of—’ David stopped suddenly.

‘What would I do a perfectly good job of?’ asked Antoine, arriving in the kitchen, his arms full of bottles.

‘I was just reassuring Lexi here that she needn’t worry about this lunch. And that no one will be unkind to the children when you are here.’ David was very firm.

Alexandra blushed some more and trimmed a perfectly good bunch of grapes.

‘David is right, Alexandra,’ said Antoine. ‘I am well able to protect my children. But I appreciate that their happiness concerns you so much.’

Bravely she looked up at him. ‘You know I take my duties very seriously.’ She picked up the platter and fled.

They’d set up a serving table under a fig tree and she put down her burden there, putting a napkin over the grapes to keep off the flies. There was already a bowl of figs and some late peaches, very nearly past their best.

As she tweaked what was on the table, she wished she didn’t feel so embarrassed whenever she was in Antoine’s presence. It was so unlike her! The fact he was her boss wasn’t really relevant. They both knew she was doing a good job, so why did he make her feel so unsettled?

‘I do hope Maxime comes early,’ she said to Félicité, who’d appeared by her side. ‘Everything always seems more relaxed when he’s here.’

‘Don’t I make you feel relaxed?’ asked Jack, who had arrived with Henri.

‘You do, but Henri’s grandmother is terrifying. And so is his mother. I need lots of protection.’ She smiled, making out she’d been joking all along. ‘When are you going to play your piece, Henri? Can I suggest you do it before lunch? Otherwise people will sink into the wine and the food and then all remember the time and rush off.’

‘I’m not sure it’s quite like that in France,’ said Jack. ‘But do let’s do your piece first. It’ll put the terrifying grand-mère in a good mood. You play so well.’

Alexandra gave Jack a warm smile. She deeply appreciated how good he was with the children. ‘I’m so glad you decided you wanted to visit France, Jack.’

‘Well, I’ve always had a longing to go back to Saint-Jean-du-Roc so when David told me he was going there, or very nearby, I couldn’t resist.’

‘Why have you always wanted to see it?’ asked Henri. ‘It’s not a famous Provençal town, like Aix-en-Provence or those other places where famous artists painted.’

Jack shrugged. ‘I was here for a brief holiday once. I wanted to see if it had changed because of the war.’

‘Oh, look! Maxime’s coming,’ said Alexandra. ‘The terrace is very well placed, isn’t it? You can see people arrive from a distance.’

‘It’s a pity we can’t slam down a portcullis, and repel marauders, eh? Félicité?’ said Jack.

Félicité giggled.

Because they could be seen coming, everyone was at the front door to admit Grand-mère, her friend Hortense and, of course, Lucinda. Only Jack was absent. He was preparing the music room, which included dusting the piano, something no one had thought to do until Stéphie wrote her name on it with her finger.

Alexandra didn’t need to be part of the welcoming committee and she had things she could be doing, but she didn’t want to miss the moment and wanted to be able to scoop up Stéphie if she felt left out.

‘Ah! Penelope!’ said Antoine. He kissed his mother-in-law three times. ‘Hortense …’ She also got three kisses. ‘And Lucinda.’ His ex-wife got a kiss on each cheek.

‘Now,’ he said, speaking English, ‘Let me introduce Mr David Campbell, who is teaching the children English with an emphasis on Shakespeare.’

David behaved just as any grandmother or mother would wish. He was polite, charming but not too informal. When he and Grand-mère had finished their exchange he said, ‘Now where’s Jack got to?’

‘He’s in the music room,’ said Henri. ‘I’ve prepared a piece for you to hear.’

Alexandra noticed Henri didn’t look at anyone when he said this, unsure whom he needed to impress.

‘Maybe you’d like to play your piece now, Henri?’ said Alexandra encouragingly. He seemed very nervous and she still thought the sooner the performance was over, the better.

‘Yes,’ said Antoine. ‘Let’s go and hear him. Lucinda, I think you will be very impressed by our son.’

David excused himself and headed off to the kitchen. Félicité followed him there but Alexandra went to the music room. She’d overheard Henri playing but this was an opportunity to hear him properly. She decided to stay outside the door to listen, so his audience wasn’t too big.

Jack was at the piano. Everyone was sitting down, and Henri picked up his bow. Jack turned round to check he was ready when suddenly there was a gasp from Grand-mère. It became a cough, and she took out her handkerchief while Lucinda asked if she was all right.

From the doorway, Alexandra wondered if she should fetch water, but Grand-mère insisted she was perfectly all right, brushing her daughter’s concern away with irritation.

Alexandra happened to look at Jack and noticed that he had gone very pale and then red. Then he turned back and fiddled with his music.

‘Are you going to play or not, Henri?’ asked Grand-mère sharply.

‘We are very impatient to hear you play, Henri,’ said Antoine, smiling.

‘Yes,’ agreed Grand-mère. ‘I didn’t mean to sound so sharp.’

Félicité seemed surprised. Possibly her grandmother didn’t often apologise.

Jack started with an opening phrase at the piano, stumbling over the first couple of notes. He was obviously nervous too, Alexandra realised.

Then Henri began to play. The melancholic notes of Saint-Saëns filled the room. Alexandra stopped breathing. It was so beautiful, so moving, she felt time stand still. The boy was so absorbed in the music, at one with his instrument. His mother was staring at him as if she didn’t recognise him. Then she noticed Grand-mère. Tears were pouring down her face. Was she really ill? Alexandra waited until the last note had been played and then fled back to the kitchen, wondering if Grand-mère might need a doctor, or at least somewhere to lie down where it was cool.

Alexandra and David were outside, putting things on the table and fiddling with the table arrangements when Stéphie joined them. ‘Henri played really well but Grand-mère has gone all weird,’ she announced.

‘Oh no! Is she ill?’ asked Alexandra. She had arranged a sofa in the salon so Grand-mère could lie on it while they waited for the doctor, if he was summoned.

Maxime, who had followed Stéphanie, said, ‘Not really ill, I don’t think. She went pale and had to sit down. Lucinda is looking after her.’

‘I hope she liked Henri’s playing,’ said Alexandra. ‘It was so … moving.’

‘She wept. The Saint-Saëns is a very moving piece. It was afterwards, when Antoine introduced his teacher, that Penelope felt faint.’ Maxime sent Alexandra a reassuring smile.

‘Well, I hope she feels better soon,’ Alexandra went on. ‘Everyone’s gone to a lot of trouble over this lunch. I don’t want it spoilt by Grand-mère having the vapours.’

‘What does that mean?’ asked Stéphie.

Alexandra was very tempted to tell Stéphie she’d enlighten her later, but held firm: good nannies did not avoid questions. ‘It means people feeling a bit faint for no apparent reason. Now, have we got everything?’

‘We’d better have,’ said Félicité. ‘We couldn’t fit anything else on!’

Eventually the rest of the party came through from the music room and was seated; drinks were poured and toasts exchanged. It seemed to Alexandra to take forever. Everyone was talking about how beautifully Henri had played – everyone except Henri, who hunched down in his seat as if trying to pretend he wasn’t there.

Alexandra was at the far end, away from the honoured guests but near to David so she could help him replenish and change dishes frequently.

Things seemed to be going quite well up the other end of the table. Penelope was a bit quiet, as was Jack. Lucinda, on the other hand, seemed full of energy.

‘Of course, he’ll have to go to Paris to study. That talent will never be appreciated in this backwater of France,’ she was saying, her clear voice carrying down the table.

Félicité was thoughtful and Henri, once he’d got over his initial shyness, just seemed really hungry, ignoring his mother’s plans for his future. Stéphie was full of beans, delightedly telling everyone how she’d found some beautiful glasses in a cupboard and had helped wash and dry them. She was drinking water out of one now.

‘We have to hope they will all be intact when the meal is over,’ said Lucinda, removing the glass from Stéphie’s hand.

Alexandra was hurt on Stéphie’s behalf. The little girl had been so careful with the glasses, putting a cloth in the sink and on the drainer, washing one glass at a time. Had she been nearer she’d have said something. She muttered all this to David who said, ‘Just as well you’re not nearer, then. The nanny can’t snap at the mistress of the house even if she’s an ex-mistress – ex-wife – something! Can you be an ex-mistress?’

Alexandra laughed, and caught Maxime’s eye. He raised his glass to her and she nodded in reply.

She was just beginning to relax – the guests were now all eating grapes and cheese and generally shedding their best-behaviour manners for something less formal – when David suddenly frowned.

‘Hello! Who’s this arriving in such a beautiful car?’

Alexandra turned and saw a cream-coloured Rolls-Royce with its top down proceeding down the drive. She felt hot and cold at the same time and ended up feeling sick. ‘Oh my God!’ she said. ‘It’s my relations!’