Hot Basque: A French Summer Novel 2 (13 page)

They stared at the mountain of clothing.

‘I could do with a drink,’ said Jill. ‘Even though my head felt as though it was
coming off when I woke up. Hair of the dog. What about it?’ She nudged Caroline, gave a naughty wink. ‘Something medicinal, Bloody Mary?’

Caroline gave an eyeroll.

‘Alright, but a small one. I know it’s a holiday, but we’ve got to keep ourselves in reserve for this fabulous lunch.’

She pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and disappeared downstairs.

‘I had to wait till Madame M. had gone into the garden then sneak into the kitchen fast,’ she explained, returning several minutes later with a tray and two glasses.

‘Think of it as breakfast,’ said Jill, clinking her glass against Caroline’s. ‘Yum. Tomatoes. They’re a great source of Vitamin C.’

‘So,’ said Caroline, eyeing her. ‘You haven’t given me your impressions yet.’

‘When have we had time? I’d only just got up when you gave that banshee howl from downstairs, I thought a shark had got into the pool. And now we’ve only got...’ she peered at the alarm clock, ‘well, I suppose we have got time for me to give you a few details.’

She fluttered her lashes and pursed her lips.

‘Come on O’Toole! I’m dying here. Tell me all.’

Jill propped herself up against the pillows while Caroline settled herself in the sewing chair in front of the window.

‘Well, first off–I like his smell.’

Caroline spluttered over her Bloody Mary.

‘His smell?’

‘Yeah. It’s sort of...starchy. Clean clothes. A bit sweaty under the clean clothes. Nice sweaty. Spicy sweat. And tangy. Maybe woody. Sort of shower gel plus essence of Antoine as the base note. Definitely foreign. Nicest man smell ever.’

‘Do go on...’

‘So. His smell. Then, his arms. You should feel those muscles! I’ve never seen such bulging beasts. They’re even more impressive than Dropdead Ed’s and I always thought his were George Clooney quality.’

‘I have actually felt them. When Antoine picks me up and whirls me round, you know, just to say hello, I am aware of those swelling biceps.’

‘Ah you and your hellos, hands off. You’ve got the Man with the Golden Arse. Be satisfied. Anyway, I can tell you, when those arms go round you and he suddenly pulls you in, rough, yet tender, it’s like a shot of pure sex. Like being grabbed by a pirate. A pirate oozing testosterone, but with a feminine side.’

‘Do you know, that’s spot on. I knew he reminded me of somebody. A pirate. I mean, not a Johnny Depp-type pirate, he’s cool, but somebody bigger. More dramatic-looking, that jet black hair, those eyes. Those teeth.’

Caroline paused, gave Jill a look. Jill looked back at her over the rim of her glass.

‘Yeah, I was coming to that. He passed! Top of the class!’

Jill was a dental hygienist. And if there was one thing she knew, it was teeth. And if there was one thing that she looked for in a man, it was good dentition.

‘Must be his genes, I asked him about it, he said he’d never had a filling. Never had a filling!’

‘You actually asked him about his teeth?’

‘Well I kept looking up at them, when he laughs he throws his head right back, you’ve seen him. And they all looked the same, back molars the lot, perfect flashing gnashers. I had time to inspect. And I can tell you I was drooling.’

They both burst out laughing.

‘So,’ Caroline ticked off the items on her fingers. ‘That’s smell, arms and teeth. Anything else?’

Jill gave a coy smile.

‘I little something I noticed, when we were slow-dancing.’

‘Ah?’

‘Ah. Ah. Ooh-ah.’

‘So, all in all, a good first impression would you say?’

‘Very good. You should open an office.’

‘What time is he picking you up tomorrow?’

‘Around ten, he said. What do you think I should wear for a visit to the Basque country?’

They both looked at the heaps of clothing scattered round the room.

‘I’d say you need to go shopping.’

And they were off again, giggling like idiots until Caroline saw the time.

They sprang to their feet and tried to focus.

‘Try that red one on again,’ said Jill, ‘where is it, I think I liked that one best.’

It was an unusual colour for Caroline, a vivid scarlet, but it went nicely with her peachy skin and blond hair. The dress was fitted, emphasising her small round breasts and tiny waist. High necked, and plain except for ruched cap sleeves.

‘They’re lovely, those sleeves, sort of ‘hint of Spanish roses’,’ said Jill. ‘Though maybe your other shoes, the white patent ones with the peep toe. Yes. Perfect, girl. Now, what about me?’

‘I like this,’ said Caroline. ‘Try it again.’

It was a dress in black and white georgette, the sleeves and low neckline picked out in black satin which threw Jill’s velvety skin into relief. It fell semi-fitted to a slightly flared hemline, just above the knee. The bold black vertical stripes drew attention to her voluptuous bosom and flat stomach.

‘Definitely,’ said Caroline. ‘With the Jimmy Choos.’

They were black, strappy, lined with gold.

‘What do you think?’

The two of them stood side by side, one in red, one in black and white.

‘I think we don’t clash,’ said Jill, ‘and also that we look wonderful. Gorgeous Ed won’t know what’s hit him. One of us on each arm. Pity Antoine can’t see us.’

But there was a surprise when they finally made it downstairs on a cloud of perfume.

Edward and Antoine, dressed in smart casuals and smelling pretty delicious themselves were both waiting on the terrace to meet them.

‘Oh!’ said Jill. ‘Antoine!’

‘Ah, Irish. You are more beautiful zan last night. And last night you were very very beautiful.’

‘Good thing I called a taxi,’ said Edward, as Antoine and Jill embraced enthusiastically. ‘When I see what the pair of you have on your feet there’s no way we’d have got you down that hill.’

Caroline raised the hem of her dress, extended a slim leg, pointed her toes like a dancer, turned her foot one way and the other.

‘Nice, though, aren’t they?’

‘Mmm. New ones, are they? A bit tight? Might you need a foot massage or something when we get back?’

Caroline smiled and sent his pulse into overdrive with another one of those upward glances from under her lashes.

***

As the barrier swung upwards, Jill clutched Caroline’s hand.

‘Omigod. Buckingham Palace.’

‘Better,’ said Edward. ‘The Queen doesn’t have a Michelin chef in her kitchens.’

The taxi swept up the curving drive, past lawns where every blade of grass was identical to its neighbours in colour and length.

‘Is it real, do you think? Oh look at those flowers, what are they? They look like ballerinas.’

‘Gaura,’ Caroline told her. ‘Pretty aren’t they?’

A light breeze ruffled the delicate white sprays, making them dip and sway.

The taxi dropped them in front of the imposing entrance.

Caroline smiled at the look on Jill’s face as they stepped inside the foyer. She bet she’d looked exactly the same one year ago, when they first came for cocktails.

Le Grand Palais.
Its interior breathed luxury, elegance and refinery. The opulent
belle époque
decor was so packed with tiny details, carvings, mouldings, delicate traceries of gold leaf, that it could have been overwhelming. But the romantic history of the palace, built by Napoleon III for the Empress Eugénie, made everything seem quite fitting. A gift from an Emperor to his beloved, it was perfect. Marble pillars, magnificent teardrop chandeliers suspended from lofty ceilings, glittering fractals of light reflected from dozens of mirrors, all transported the beholder back to a vanished world.

‘I’m in a Renoir painting,’ said Jill. ‘Really. Do you know that one, Caro, it’s one of my favourites, ‘Dance in the City’, there’s this woman in a beautiful white satin ballgown and long white gloves, dancing with this bloke, you can just see the top of his head, a dark handsome stranger, a bit like Antoine now I think of it. There’s this palm tree behind and oh–’

Her voice trailed off as she gazed around.

Caroline nodded. It was easy to imagine a sea of dancers waltzing through the magnificent salons, across the shining floors, past the painted frescoes, pausing to chat among the palm trees and flowers. Easy to succumb to the magic and dream.

‘Monsieur Rayburn,
enchanté
.’

The
maître d’
was coming to meet them. A tall man, dark hair greying at the temples, he exuded poise and assurance, a polished veneer acquired through years of experience of greeting distinguished guests. But Caroline noticed a look of genuine pleasure in his eyes as he addressed Edward.

‘Monsieur Arantxa, good to see you.’

Antoine grinned and reached out a hand to clap him on the shoulders before remembering where he was and transforming the movement into a dignified handshake.

‘How is your mother?’ The
maître d’
turned to Edward. ‘And the judge? Will we be seeing them later this summer?’

Jill pinched Caroline.

‘The judge!’

They were ushered through to the
Hippocamp
, the outdoor restaurant. Glancing to her right Jill glimpsed the magnificent semicircular dining room with its sweep of windows looking out over the Atlantic. Waiters glided among the tables like swallows, the black and white of their uniforms contrasting with the white and gold walls, the impressive flower arrangements of lilies, roses and orchids.

They stepped out on to a terrace with similarly dressed tables, heavy double cloths of impeccable whiteness, silver cutlery, sparkling glasses. Each table had a vase of orange and yellow blooms set in the middle.

Two waiters materialised to pull back the rattan chairs and seat the ladies. Two more wished them ‘
Bonjour et bienvenue’
and handed them menus.

Shaded from the sun by a vast awning, the terrace seemed to overhang the sea, so close that you could almost dive straight in. The weather gods were with them, the sky was a cerulean blue reaching up to infinity in countless translucent layers. Below, in a panoramic sweep, the Atlantic spread before them, filling the graceful curve of the bay as far as the opposite promontory. It was a different blue, darker, the same shade as Caroline’s ring, and the pendants that hung from her ears. A series of rocks broke its surface like a school of whales coming in to the shore. Flocks of seagulls whirled round them, taking off, landing, soaring into the air then plunging vertically into the sea with high mewing cries.

The lawns of the hotel ran down towards the railings, the manicured surface adorned here and there by stands of shrubs and showy groups of blue and pink hydrangeas.

‘Look!’ Jill was pointing to an imposing gate flanked by two stone pillars.

Antoine followed her gaze.

‘Ah, ze ‘ippocamps!’

At the top of each pillar was an ornate metal lamp in the shape of a seahorse, topped by a pearly globe.

‘Hippocamp? Sea-horse? The Seahorse Restaurant?’ Jill clapped her hands. ‘I’m sitting in the Seahorse Restaurant in the
Grand Palais
in Biarritz! Who’s going to believe me when I tell them all at the Whitekiss Dental Practice?’

‘You can see how they got their names,’ said Caroline. ‘They really do look like little horses, perched on bar stools.’

‘They do exist don’t they, seahorses? In real life I mean? Or are they just myths?’

‘No, they exist. In fact you can find them in the Med,’ said Edward, studying the menu.

‘You know Irish,’ said Antoine, taking Jill’s hand and gazing into her eyes, ‘when a man seahorse take a wife it is forever.’

‘You’re kidding me Antoine.’

‘No, it is true.’ He leaned closer. ‘You can ask to Blondie, he is the brains. But I am a man of the sea, I know.’

‘Who am I to pour cold water on romantic myths?’ said Edward. ‘Now, let’s get down to business before we carry on with the biology lesson.
Aperitifs, mes amis
?’

On their visit last summer they had chosen the house cocktails, the Emperor and the Empress. Caroline remembered sharing complicit looks with Edward, their relationship was just starting to blossom, she had been filled with unbearable happiness. And then Annabel had cast a shadow over them all.

She gave a little shiver, smiled brightly and made her suggestions.

‘Good,
la rose
, good,’ said Antoine. ‘Emperors and Empresses for one day. Let us dream.’

‘You know it’s so romantic here, even the cocktails are inspired by love,’ said Jill. ‘And just look at the view, incredible. Where’s my camera?’

She rummaged in her bag, took several shots of the bay, then turned to Edward and Caroline.