Margaret Barker – Her Miracle Twins (страница 8)

They had started discussing the theatres in Paris, shows they’d seen, music that pleased or displeased them. All the worthwhile frills of life that got pushed into the background when they filled their days with work, however important it was.

‘Yes, I do find I have to make time for leisure pursuits when I’m living away from Paris,’ Chantal said. ‘I love the countryside and the sea but sometimes I long to go out to the theatre.’

‘There’s a very good theatre in Le Touquet. I must take you there one evening.’

‘I’d like that.’ She would, she really would. Going to the theatre was something that good friends and colleagues could enjoy together without it meaning any commitment on either side.

Florence’s husband, Giles, who was now waiting on the tables while Florence concentrated on the cooking, paused beside their table to remove the empty bottle and bring back a new one. Michel was now chatting amicably with Giles about wine. It transpired that Giles’s brother had a vineyard near Bordeaux so supplies of good wine were easy to come by.

Chantal could feel herself warming more and more towards Michel. She was seeing sides of his character she’d never seen before. Asking him to come out for supper tonight had been a good idea after all. And whatever her motives might have been, she was enjoying herself, delighted that she was getting to know the real man behind the work-obsessed Michel.

The restaurant was now completely full and people were queuing outside. They’d finished their delicious dessert of raspberry tart when Florence asked if they would like to have their coffee served on the veranda.

Michel said that was an excellent idea. It was one of those splendid early summer evenings that were made to be enjoyed in the fresh air.

Michel chose a secluded table in the corner of the veranda, overlooking the sea. The gentle sound of the waves was so romantic, just the sort of evening for a stroll along the beach, hand in hand with someone close to you. That wouldn’t happen with herself and Michel. It was obvious that even though they were enjoying themselves they were both carrying too much baggage from the past.

She took a sip from her coffee cup, her eyes on the man opposite her. His enigmatic expression was giving nothing away. Placing her delicate china cup carefully back on the saucer, she tentatively asked Michel what he’d been going to say when they had first arrived. ‘You said this place reminded you of something.’

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