The waitress reappeared and placed the steak sandwich down in front of Paul, checked if they needed more beers – which, of course, they did – then left them to it.
‘Merci bien,’ Cat said, automatically. She scooped up a forkful of potato.
Ginny looked up. ‘What’s the difference between thanks with a bien and thanks with a beaucoup? I don’t remember that from school.’
Cat shrugged. ‘The first is less formal, but they’re kind of interchangeable. To be honest I hadn’t heard the bien version until I lived in France.’
‘Oh yes, of course you lived in France. What was that though, ten years ago? More?’
‘Ten, yes. I was twenty-two. My final year at uni. I thought about trying to get a job there for a while, do you remember?’
‘I do remember. I also remember some of the stories you told me from your year there, when you weren’t such a square.’ Ginny’s eyes flashed with amusement and Cat felt the knot in her stomach pull tighter. There were many stories. And she really didn’t want them being told today.
‘I remember that bloke you were into . . .’ She looked around at Paul and Tristan, making sure she had their full attention. ‘We called him French Frank. You know, like the old currency?’ She laughed hard at her own joke. Classic Ginny that she felt the need to explain it too.
Tristan laughed loudly. ‘Did you come up with that one all by yourself, Gins? Bit intellectual for you.’
Ginny’s cheeks went red, and she crossed her arms, clearly annoyed at her big moment being ridiculed. A smattering of laughter wafted over to them from the direction of the bar, and Cat turned to look. The two men there were huddled together, looking at something on a phone.
‘Frawwnk,’ Ginny continued, trying to get everyone’s attention again. ‘Ee was very sexy, non?’ She giggled. ‘Did you ever show me a pic, Catkins? I don’t think you did . . . Thinking back, I’ve only got your word for it that he was sexy. But considering what you did, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Unless, of course, you were so blind drunk you couldn’t tell what he looked like.’ She giggled again.
Cat dropped her fork into her half-eaten lunch with a clatter. ‘Shut up, Ginny.’
‘Oooh,’ Tristan said. ‘This sounds juicy.’
Even Paul was intrigued. ‘Indeed. What exactly did you do, Cat? Something naughty by the sound of it.’
‘It was a long time ago.’ She really didn’t want Ginny saying any more about it. It was long ago, and Ginny didn’t even know the full story. She only knew the bits Cat had told her. Cat hadn’t told her sister that Frank had been her tutor. Her very married tutor. And she certainly wasn’t going to bring that up now. It had been a brief, intense fling. Too intense. And she’d broken it off before anyone got hurt, although she knew that he had ended up splitting with his wife anyway, then gone off to teach in Asia.
Cat pushed her stool back, the wooden legs shrieking across the floor. ‘I’m going to the toilet.’
Ten
SATURDAY AFTERNOON
He watched them as they entered the restaurant. He was facing the other direction, but he could see everything from where he was sitting, via the mirror behind the bar.
Best seat in the house.
He liked to watch. And watching those who had no idea that they were being observed was the best part of all.
There were two blondes. He’d always liked blondes. But although the two of them were similar – same generic shorts and t-shirts in the same boring colours, same hairstyles, similar features – it was the one who was holding court that he liked the most.
She was talking them through the menu, and the others were hanging on to her every word; trusting that she knew what she was talking about. He liked that level of self-assuredness in a woman. He liked the way her mouth moved as she spoke. He liked her lips; her wide, expressive mouth. Her bright, intelligent eyes.
He pretended to be interested in his companion’s conversation, but he was only half listening. He was mostly thinking up ways of how he could initiate a conversation with the better of the blondes.
He didn’t have to wait long.
He heard the screech of her stool against the floor as she stood up from the table and headed towards the toilet.
His companion was dull, like most of the people in this bar. He’d spent a month in the area now, hiking the trails, helping out with some of the forestry clearances. It’d been a change from his usual way of life but it wasn’t something he intended to do for much longer. It had already served its purpose. He felt like every day he’d spent here had been building towards this moment.