Chapter Seventeen
1093 Words
I was surprised to find that Jocelyne was in the kitchen cooking and Timothée was sitting in the living room ready to entertain. It never occurred to me that they both cooked. Luca didn't let me near his kitchen unless he really had no other option. Julia came out from down the hall and flashed me a smile. I hoped that meant that the conversation with her parents had gone well. As she passed me and headed into the kitchen, she whispered to me, "I hope you're hungry. She's gone all out."
"Thanks for the warning." Luca had already dove onto the sofa as though he was in his own home. Although, for him, it was once home. He had Isabella in tow and Timothée was delighted with her little coos.
"I hear you are going to have a visitor at the house when you return home." Luca looked completely lost. He had obviously completely forgotten about the conversation with Julia. In fairness to him, he had only just woken up at the time.
I stepped in quickly. "Julia is welcome at the vineyard with us any time she likes. Luca is looking forward to showing her around the restaurant as it takes shape."
"It's a shame we're not heading straight home. We could have given her a lift." Finally, Luca appeared to have caught up with the conversation.
"At least I know you two will keep her out of trouble." I nodded at Timothée, but I was sure Julia was perfectly capable of looking after herself. She seemed like she was crying out for some freedom. I was living alone at her age and I could imagine still living with her parents made things difficult.
She returned from the kitchen carrying two glasses of wine. I wondered if Luca had predicted the amount of wine we were going to drink and that was why he had insisted on getting the metro instead of driving. We hadn't been there long when the first course of scallops in pesto came out. We all gathered around the huge dining table. Isabella had chosen the perfect time to drift off to sleep in Timothée's arms and he stowed her carefully in her pushchair.
Everyone talked so animatedly and it reminded me of dinner back at home with Mamma and the others. One thing I realised quickly was that the courses were small, but there were loads of them. It was a very unrushed affair, and we seemed to be poured a different type of wine for each course. Which was confirmed when I got a white wine ready for the main course. We had drank red with the scallops and the salad course. I guessed the white must pair better with the salmon and what looked like a couscous salad. I could have been wrong. Jocelyne announced every dish in French and I had little choice but to guess what it actually meant.
I watched as Jocelyne sat down with a cheese board and served herself. I had expected her to pass it to Julia or Timothée because they were either side of her, but instead, it was passed down to me. Looking at Luca, slightly confused. "It's an age before beauty thing." He cut my cheese for me and I noticed that different cheeses he cut in different ways. He laid one piece of each on a round of baguette, then sort of lined them up on the plate in front of me. "Start left going right. What can I say? They are French. They have rules about cheese. It's a little like you trying to put ham in my carbonara that one time."
"That one time, as in, the time you threatened to carve me for daring to suggest such a thing?"
"Yeah, they won't carve you. You're a guest." Luca took the platter and passed it to Julia without taking any for himself. I watched, fascinated, as it was then passed to Timothée before returning to Luca. I worked my way across the plate and resisted the urge to comment on the pungent smell. The last one on my plate was Stilton. I looked at it a little suspiciously, receiving a slight elbow from Luca. "When in Rome?"
I grabbed it and stuffed it in my mouth with as much ladylike grace as a rhino. It wasn't quite as bad as I had expected, but it certainly wouldn't be my first choice. I hoped that the food was done because the cheese was usually done last in England. I had just got my wineglass to my lips when Timothée came back to the table carrying more food. When I realized it was just a simple strawberry mousse, I thought I could at least manage to squeeze it in.
When Julia grabbed a bottle of what looked like brandy from the side and started pouring, I literally panicked. I had already had five glasses of wine, small glasses, but still. Worrying that I would be stumbling back to the apartment even without the hard liquor. I watched as Luca sipped it slowly. It was like each country had a completely different way of doing things. I had thought Italian meals were a boozy affair, but the French beat them by miles. In England, it was rare for people to drink more than a couple of glasses of wine with dinner.
I had barely spoken the whole meal. It had taken all my effort to put away all the food and drink. I didn't really know how the others had found time to eat and talk. When the espresso appeared, I hoped it would help me sober up a little and make me a little more alert in the conversation.
As everyone else stood and milled around, Timothée came over and leant over my shoulder. "How did you find your first proper French meal? It can be a bit intimidating and Jocelyne put more courses on in honor of you being here. It's a traditional thing."
"It was fantastic. The food was delicious, but I really need to work on my alcohol tolerance."
The hearty laugh I got in response was lovely. "You fared very well. I'm quite impressed. You are definitely welcome back anytime."
"Thank you. I hope the pair of you manage to find time to come and visit us. We can return the favor and get you squiffy on a vineyard tour."
"Squiffy?"
"It's an English word for drunk."
"I look forward to it. In fact, I see it as a challenge."
- Writer
