‘Oh, there’s definitely no wine shortage in England.’ She laughed. ‘It’s this.’ She gestured around her. ‘Sunshine, scenery…’
‘And of course the good company, yes?’
‘Well, yes,’ she said, finding herself blushing.
He laughed. ‘It is joking,’ he said. ‘I am sure you have lots of friends in England? And lovers?’
The word caught her off-guard. ‘Well, sort of,’ she said. ‘A husband. Well, I did have one.’
‘Yes, but you ‘av not brought this ‘usband wiv you.’
She shook her head, desperately holding back a swelling tear. ‘No. It’s… we’re over.’
‘I am sorry,’ he said.
‘Yes, me too.’ She shrugged – perhaps the habit was rubbing off. ‘But c’est la vie.’
‘Yes. C’est la vie. And to new beginnings in France,’ he said, clinking his glass with hers and fixing his intense gaze on her. ‘I wanted to ask you…’
But at that moment, Lily spotted a familiar face over Frédérique’s shoulder. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘It’s Chloé!’
Her new friend had walked in with two other women, all dressed casually but exuding the kind of effortless glamour Lily hoped one day to emulate. Chloé glanced around the terrace then caught Lily’s eye and smiled.
‘Yes? She is ’ere?’ Frédérique said, turning to look.
When Chloé saw Frédérique, her face took on a stonier expression. She seemed to say something to her friends and then walked over to their table.
‘Bonjour, Chloé,’ Lily said standing up and exchanging a brief air-kiss. ‘C’est une surprise!’
‘Oui,’ she said. ‘Bien s?r. You are ’ere for dinner?’
‘Just a drink,’ Lily said. ‘Frédérique… we wanted to celebrate the house sale.’
Chloé nodded, her face uncharacteristically expressionless. ‘Ah, ze house it is done?’
‘Well, no. But we’re getting there,’ Lily said, realising how weak an excuse that sounded, then wondering why she felt the need to have an excuse to be with Frédérique in any case.
‘Bonjour, Fred,’ Chloé said, and exchanged a quick kiss with Frédérique. It sounded odd to hear him called ‘Fred’ – such a plain, normal name. Even so, the way Chloé said it, with her accent, it sound much prettier than the version Lily was used to.
‘Well, I ’ope you enjoy,’ she said, after a brief silence. ‘It is a good evening, yes?’
‘Thank you.’ Lily smiled.
‘Oui, merci. ? bient?t!’ Frédérique added as Chloé walked back to her friends. She said something when she arrived and they all glanced at them for a moment.
‘Did Chloé seem OK to you?’ Lily asked.
‘Oui, she is always like zis wiv me,’ he said, making a sad face. ‘I fink she does not like it when I ’ave a drink wiv a woman, eh?’
‘Oh. Why?’
‘Ah, it is nothing. We used to date, many years ago. And she, I think she maybe like me still.’
‘Oh.’ Lily made a face. The last thing she wanted to do was to upset Chloé.
‘It iz OK, she will not ’ate you for speaking wiv me though!’ he said, with a grin. ‘She is juste… it is – how you say? – a bit uncomfortable, awkwardable.’
‘Awkward?’
‘Yes. That is it. We are friends, I think.’
‘OK.’ Lily took a sip from her glass, feeling slightly uneasy. But then if Chloé was an ex of Frédérique’s it was always going to be a bit odd for her to see him on a date. Or something that looked like a date.
She took a deep drink from her glass and wiped her hand over the back of her mouth, only to look up at a pair of amused eyes. ‘What?’ she said.
‘It iz nothing,’ he said. ‘You like the wine, huh?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘Just nervous. It’s difficult, being somewhere new. With new people. Being… I suppose being alone for the first time in ages.’
‘But, Lily,’ he said, taking her hand, ‘you do not ’ave to be alone.’
Two hours later, when they left, Chloé was still there, sipping after-meal coffees with her friends. She looked up as Lily passed, giving her a small, polite wave. But when her eyes rested on Frédérique, Lily saw her expression change and her mouth form a hard, straight line.