One Night at the Château

Chapter 29

29

Connie

I got up early on Christmas morning, tiptoeing my way down the stairs while everyone was still asleep, inhaling the fresh scent of pine from the tree in the hall, heading into the kitchen to put coffee on the stove and heat up the oven. We were going for the best of both worlds for lunch. Oysters, of course, but then turkey with all the English things we liked (bread sauce, roast potatoes, lashings of gravy) and all the French (Vichy carrots and petits pois à la Francaise ). Lismay had brought a pudding from Fortnum & Mason and made her famous b?che de Noel . There was a ridiculous amount of cheeses trying to escape from wooden boxes, their skins chalky white and pale orange and charcoal-black, their barnyard smell filling the air.

We would have croissants and pains au chocolat in the salon while we opened our presents, which would happen as soon as everyone had got out of bed. I headed in there to make the fire, light a few scented candles and plump up the cushions.

‘Mumma!’ Here was Edie, in her fleecy onesie, flying across the room to hug me. ‘Merry Christmas. I got a stocking! How did Father Christmas know we were here?’ She feigned the big eyes of a small child.

I laughed. ‘He’s a clever old thing.’

She jumped onto the biggest sofa and crossed her legs, pulling a cushion onto her lap and hugging it. Just at that moment, Lismay appeared, in a pearl-pink silk dressing gown, striking a pose in the doorway.

‘ Joyeux Noel, tout le monde ,’ she said, kicking one leg up behind her and looking like the fairy godmother she was.

‘You were all up very late,’ I said to her. ‘What are you like?’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘We had a lot to catch up on.’

Her eyes were sparkling. It must be the relief of not being responsible for the chateau any longer. I was glad for her, if that’s what she wanted, but it made me feel sad. It was the end of an era. The chateau wouldn’t be the same without Piers and Lismay, but there was nothing I could do.

Two hours later, everyone was sitting around surrounded by torn paper, pastry crumbs and presents. The fire was ablaze, Bing Crosby was crooning away and the turkey was browning nicely in the oven.

‘I feel thoroughly spoilt,’ declared Lismay. ‘Everyone’s been so generous. I don’t really expect presents at this grand age.’

‘No one’s too old for Christmas presents,’ said Piers, proud that he’d been into Penhaligon’s and chosen gift sets for everyone. I imagined him commandeering a pretty young assistant, giving her character breakdowns of everyone he had to buy for. I wondered what the brief was for me: I’d got one called ‘Goddess on the Hunt’. Lismay had one called ‘Bathed in Pearly Light’.

‘There’s one more for you, Mum.’

Edie brought me over a tiny package wrapped in gold paper. I peeled off the paper and flipped open a velvet jewellery box. Inside was a gold charm on a chain. A tiny squirrel holding up an acorn in his paws. It was beautifully detailed and utterly charming.

‘Oh!’ I exclaimed. My brain was racing to explain it away, for I knew exactly who it was from. ‘It must be from Fiona. She must have left it here and got Lilou to put it under the tree.’

My heart was pounding. I could hear Rémy’s voice, struggling with the pronunciation thirty years ago. And, more recently, being able to say it perfectly. Squirrel .

I snapped the box shut. He knew the perfect way to worm himself into my heart, with the most romantic of love tokens. Part of me longed to put it on so I could feel him near me. Part of me wanted to throw the whole thing on the fire.

‘I’d better go and check on the turkey.’

I escaped to the kitchen to be alone with my thoughts, imagining Rémy in Biarritz with Camille and Mimi. What did the squirrel mean? What did he really think of me? What did he want? I pulled the turkey out of the oven and began to baste the browning skin with melted butter.

Lunch was a triumph. Our hybrid menu really was the best of both worlds, an absolute feast of indulgence that included mince pies, marrons glacés and the obligatory chocolate orange just when you thought you couldn’t stuff in anything else.

‘Can we do this every year?’ asked Edie, as Lismay cut into the b?che de Noel with a silver knife and Piers set fire to the pudding. ‘Christmas at the chateau, all of us?’

Piers and Lismay looked at each other. The kids didn’t know yet that they were planning to sell.

‘You’re always welcome as long as we’re here,’ said Lismay, ever the diplomat.

After we had decimated the most indulgent cheeseboard known to man, Dad put his hand on mine.

‘Come for a walk with me,’ he said. ‘I need to burn off that époisses.’ Dad was normally very disciplined about eating, to keep his weight down for tennis, but even he couldn’t resist the creamy gooeyness.

‘Of course.’ I jumped to my feet and went to fetch my coat. Harry and Edie offered to do the washing-up, and Lismay and Piers opted for a snooze before we all met up in the salon for board games.

Outside the air was still crisp and bright, delivering a sharp cut to the lungs, but we wrapped up and set off down the drive, our breath billowing in the air.

‘I need to talk to you about something,’ he said, and fear clutched at my heart. I remembered Mum saying that. ‘No, don’t worry,’ he added as he saw my face. ‘It’s a good thing. I think. I was up very late with Piers and Lismay, plotting and planning.’

‘Yes, I know,’ I laughed. ‘I could hear you. Reprobates. What were you planning? World domination?’

‘Yes, actually. It might have been a surfeit of Corton-Charlemagne, but we have a proposal.’

I was wary. I couldn’t imagine what it could be. ‘OK.’

Dad came straight out with it. ‘How would you feel about taking over the chateau?’

‘What?’ I stopped in my tracks and stared at him. ‘Running it for the Gaspards, do you mean?’ That was definitely going to be a no. For many reasons.

‘Not for the Gaspards. No.’

‘But they’re buying it, aren’t they?’

‘The Gaspards have made an offer,’ he clarified, and a wicked gleam came into his eye. ‘But I came up with an alternative.’

I knew my dad of old. He was a thinker. A plotter. A planner. A man who kept his cards close to his chest, but then played them with a flourish. Unlike Piers, who acted on impulse. They were like chalk and cheese, but equally brilliant. ‘Go on.’

‘It’s definitely got too much for Piers and Lismay, running the chateau full-time. And they felt it was time for new blood, especially after seeing what you’ve done. But deep down they’re not ready to let it go completely. As soon as they got back here, they got cold feet about selling. It didn’t feel right.’

I remembered Piers’s face when he looked at the fountain. I wasn’t surprised they’d had second thoughts. The chateau had looked its very best on their return. I’d made sure of it. And I could sense Lismay’s resignation. The decision had been a necessary evil.

‘I can imagine. It’s been their life for so long. It’ll be very difficult to hand it over to someone else. But—’

Dad put his hand up. ‘Let me finish.’ He tightened his scarf around his neck as he thought about what to say next. ‘Coming out here has been a revelation for me. I can feel Mum here, in a way that I can’t in Chiswick. It’s as if she’s just in the next room. You know, like that poem.’

‘“Death is Nothing At All”,’ I said softly. ‘I can feel her here too.’ I didn’t want to say it out loud, but I thought I could feel her right now, hanging on Dad’s every word, waiting to give her opinion. Though maybe that was too much wine and cheese, making me hallucinate.

‘Anyway, I might be getting on, but I think I still have one last adventure in me.’

‘OK.’ I was starting to get a blurry picture of what might be coming. I felt a flicker of excitement in the pit of my stomach.

‘Here’s the deal. You’ve sold Cheltenham. I could sell Chiswick. And between us we could buy half the chateau from Piers and Lismay. We could all run it together, with you at the helm.’

I laughed outright.

‘That’s the craziest idea I’ve ever heard,’ I said. ‘Definitely fuelled by too much white burgundy.’

But the flicker in my stomach was becoming a fizz.

‘Yet it makes perfect sense.’ Dad gave me his most winning smile. ‘We were up until two, doing the maths. You know Piers never makes a decision without doing the maths.’

‘So we’d be partners?’

‘Yes. Well. Us wrinklies would be sort of sleeping partners and you’d be doing all the work.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘I’d get a little house in Barles. Piers and Lismay have always wanted to restore the prune barn properly, so they’d have that. And they can flit between here and Hammersmith. They’d get the best of both worlds, without having to sacrifice the chateau.’

It was such an audacious dream, I could barely allow myself to imagine it. To have free rein at the Chateau Villette, but with a team I could trust behind me.

‘It sounds too good to be true.’

‘Those are the best ideas, though. Aren’t they?’ He stopped and looked into my eyes. I saw wisdom and kindness and love there, but also a spark I hadn’t seen since before Mum died. ‘You’ve come back to life here, Connie. You’ve been unhappy for a long time, and I knew there was nothing I could do about it. That you had to find your own way back to yourself. But I think the Chateau Villette has done it for you.’

I felt a lump in my throat. I thought about the three old friends conspiring in the salon last night, and I was overwhelmed, by their bravery, their can-do spirit, their trust in me. I thought back to the story of Piers and Lismay discovering the chateau for the first time, how they’d thrown caution to the wind and put their tragedy behind them and created something wonderful against the odds. And now it was time to hand it over.

‘I’d probably be a nuisance,’ Dad went on. ‘But I love the idea of being hands on in the background. Digging up potatoes. Clearing out gutters. Whatever you need. Piers can still run the wine cellar. Lismay has her rose garden.’

The funny thing was, I could picture it all. There was one thing bothering me, though.

‘What about the Gaspards?’

‘Pah.’ Dad gave a Gallic shrug and a toss of his head that was pure Mum. ‘It’s business. They’ll understand.’

I wasn’t sure they would. Could I work here, with Rémy on the doorstep? Knowing what he’d done to me? I watched a buzzard wheel across the skyline, intent on some mission, his eyes on some unsuspecting victim. Had that been me? Had Rémy had me in his sights all the time?

I reminded myself of the promise I’d made, not to let what he’d done affect my future.

‘So that’s why Lismay was all fizzy this morning?’ I remembered her in her pink silk dressing gown, dancing around the room.

‘She was all for waking you up at two o’clock this morning.’

‘I can’t take it all in, Dad. It’s a bit out of the blue.’

‘We’re not going to force you into anything.’

‘And if I say no?’

‘Back to Plan A, I guess. The Gaspards would do a good job. The chateau would be in safe hands.’ He paused. ‘But not your hands.’

We carried on walking in silence for a few moments.

‘There’d be a lot of red tape, of course.’ Dad was too excited to keep quiet for long. ‘There’s all the inheritance gubbins to sort out. And I’ve got to sell Chiswick. But the beauty of it would be you could take over straight away.’

I’d have to turn down the magazine. I’d have to find somewhere to put all my stuff. I’d have to spend my life avoiding Rémy.

‘I need to think about it,’ I told my father.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I’d worry if you didn’t.’

We turned and walked back up the drive towards the chateau. A late-afternoon sun blazed pink over the roofline and the lights inside burned orange. Could I really step into Lismay’s shoes as chatelaine? Could I really make this happen?

I went up to my room when we got back. I wasn’t ready to see Piers and Lismay yet, and I needed to clear my head. This was a huge decision. This wasn’t just a job offer. This was a complete lifestyle change. A commitment, not least financial, for I’d be sinking all my money into it. And there were hundreds of questions to ask. How much was I going to be paid? How would the business be divided?

I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. The little box the necklace had come in was underneath me, and I pulled it out, then flipped it open, still wondering why Rémy had given it to me. Was it a love token? I hadn’t been able to resist putting it on when I came up to my room just before lunch. I could feel the squirrel nestling on my collarbone as I fiddled with the box, then realised there was a piece of paper folded up in the lid.

I pulled it out and opened it with trembling fingers. There were three lines written in black ink.

I did not know. I would never betray you. Je t’aime.

I swallowed. Was it true? Had he really not known? His mother was very forceful, very determined. I could imagine her going behind his back to get what she wanted. Rémy might have taken over at the vineyard, but she was never going to take a back seat. She had always been the power behind the throne. She was the queen, and she decided who was in favour and who was to be executed.

And he’d written Je t’aime . Was that true too? If not, why write it? I felt a surge of longing for him, to feel his strong arms, hear his voice say those words to me, but he was miles away, in Biarritz.

I pored over the words again, trying to work out what they meant for me. For us.

Either way, they helped me make up my mind.

At six o’clock, Lilou turned up on her moped. Her grandmother went to bed early, so we’d told her to come and hang out with us if she wanted to. Soon she was listening to music with Edie and Harry in the salon and being introduced to Quality Street, which Dad had brought over.

‘You can’t have the purple ones,’ Edie told her firmly. ‘Those are Mum’s favourite.’

I laughed to see Lilou rooting through the tin of shiny sweets. She had on the tiniest faux Chanel skirt and a satin bomber jacket with her big boots. I could see Harry gazing at her from behind his laptop, fascinated. She was scarily glamorous, but soon she was finding him her favourite bands on her phone and her trademark French rap started blaring out and Harry nodded in approval. As did I. I loved having the young here. It gave the chateau another layer of vibrancy.

In the kitchen, Dad was carving the rest of the turkey into thin slices for sandwiches. It was that funny time on Christmas Day when everyone suddenly goes from thinking they can never eat again to being quite hungry. Lismay was making a green salad, and Piers was looking in the fridge, wondering what to open.

I appeared in the doorway. The three of them looked up at me, trying not to look expectant. They were obviously very mindful of not putting me under pressure.

‘What do we think?’ said Piers, rubbing his hands. ‘Something light, I think. A Vouvray?’

‘What about some bubbles?’ I said.

‘Bubbles?’ Lismay echoed, her salad servers in mid-air.

Dad stopped slicing the turkey.

Piers peered out from behind the fridge door. ‘Have we got something to celebrate?’ he asked.

They all stood stock still, staring at me. I crossed my arms.

‘When I found out you were selling the chateau,’ I said. ‘I was devastated. I knew it was your prerogative, and there was nothing I could do, but I couldn’t bear the thought of it in someone else’s hands. And I guess, in the cold light of day, you all couldn’t either.’

No one said anything.

‘Dad told me your proposition. I think it’s a crazy idea. Three pensioners and an unemployed magazine editor? You’d never get funding if you took it to an investor.’ They all looked at each other. I could see they were crushed. I smiled. ‘But lucky for us, we don’t need one.’

Piers was the first to grin. He reached inside the fridge and pulled out a bottle of champagne, holding it up as if for my approval.

I nodded. Lismay dropped her salad servers and clasped her hands. ‘Are you in?’

‘Am I in?’ I laughed. ‘I think I’ve been in training for this challenge all my life. And I know one person who would kill me if I didn’t take you up on it: Mum.’

‘You’re right there,’ said Dad. ‘She always said you should take over from Lismay one day.’

Lismay nodded agreement. ‘She did.’

‘Did she?’ I was astonished. ‘Why didn’t anyone ever tell me? I had no idea that’s what she thought.’

‘We didn’t want you to feel obligated,’ said Lismay. She came over and put her arms around me. ‘But I am so proud to have you on board. You know Piers and I think the world of you. You’re going to do an amazing job, and we’ll be right behind you.’

‘Annoying the hell out of you, I expect.’ Piers was lining up the champagne glasses.

‘We’ll try not to cramp your style,’ said Dad. ‘But we do know stuff, between us. So exploit us, mercilessly, before we go completely dotty.’

‘Or need another hip replacement.’ Piers popped the cork.

I looked at the three of them, firm friends through thick and thin, who’d supported each other through highs and lows. I knew what a support Mum and Dad had been to Piers and Lismay when they found out they couldn’t have children, and they’d always treated me as the daughter they’d never had. Not in a weird way, but in their generosity, and the opportunities they’d given me, and the fact that I knew they were unfailingly there. And I hoped I’d repaid them by being there for them. Our love and respect for each other was bound up in this new venture, and I felt proud to have their support. The friendship that had sparked into life between Mum and Lismay all those years ago, made even stronger when Mum met Dad, and then when Lismay met Piers – the bond was unbreakable, even if one link in the chain was missing. Perhaps I was replacing that link? Bringing Mum’s energy and optimism and can-do spirit? I vowed she would live on in me and give them what they needed.

We were just clinking glasses when Edie, Harry and Lilou came tumbling in.

‘We’re starving, Mum,’ declared Edie.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Harry.

‘Get some more glasses!’ I cried.

‘I’m going to have to open another bloody bottle,’ grumbled Piers. ‘If this is what it’s going to be like under your mother’s regime, we’ll be bankrupt by the end of the year.’

That night, I lay in bed, my mind whirling. Adrenaline, fear, elation – there were almost too many emotions to deal with. But there was one piece of unfinished business that was bothering me. I didn’t like loose ends. What would the Gaspards say when they knew? And would any chance I had with Rémy be scuppered? He had claimed he knew nothing about their offer, but it would make things very awkward. Sabine Gaspard didn’t strike me as the kind of woman to be gracious in defeat. Maybe she wouldn’t be happy about Rémy and me having anything to do with each other? Though hopefully he would be strong enough to stand up to his mother. No one wants a man who isn’t.

Besides, the working relationship between the vineyard and the chateau was invaluable. They supplied us with our house tipple, and our guests bought a lot of wine from them, so I guess she would see that maintaining that relationship was important. But I wondered what Rémy was thinking. I’d been too quick, flying round to the vineyard to confront him before giving him a chance to put his side of the story. I cringed when I thought about it now. He’d looked bewildered, and I’d thought he was putting on an act. And even though I’d flown at him, he had given me a peace offering. I put my hand up to touch the little squirrel.

I wanted him back in my life. Because he was always there, in my thoughts, even if I did my very best to push him into the background. We’d had something special. Something easy and delicious and exciting and real. Who walked away from that?

Alarm bells went off in my head. Did I really think I could have it all? Was I being greedy, to think I might have Rémy too? Shouldn’t I be content with the chateau? Did I have to have the icing on the cake?

I told myself that all I wanted was for us to be amicable. We would be doing business, after all, and I didn’t want any awkwardness. It was, I decided, the grown-up thing to do, to reach out and negotiate some kind of peace treaty. I didn’t want to hide if I saw him in the queue at the boulangerie . I wanted to be able to call him up and send guests over for a wine-tasting.

I sighed, looking at my phone. He was miles away, in Biarritz. I really shouldn’t disturb him. But I should at least say thank you for his present. I scrolled through to Rémy’s name and unblocked him. Immediately I felt one step closer to him. Tentatively I began to type.

Thank you for my squirrel. He is beautiful. I shall wear him all the time.

I deleted the last sentence. It said too much. This was an olive branch, not a declaration of love.

Merry Christmas , I wrote instead, even though it was nearly over.

With a dry mouth, I pressed send. Now it began. The agonising wait for his response. I tried to breathe through my anxiety as the seconds ticked by. I’d laid myself open with my message. If he chose to ignore me, I deserved it.

Five minutes.

Ten.

I’d blown it. I’d ruined any chance of picking up where we left off. I told myself it wasn’t my fault. He wasn’t worth worrying about. Sending me a cute little charm to mollify me was just a brush-off. Midnight rolled by. How did the young cope with the stress of waiting for texts? It was torture. In the end, I pushed my phone under my pillow and pulled my covers up. I needed to sleep. To forget. To let my subconscious unravel everything. Eventually I dozed off, dreaming of purple Quality Street parading through the streets of Barles and heading up to my grandmother’s house where my mum ate the lot and threw the wrappers over the valley, fluttering like bats into the distance. Too much époisses. Too much champagne. Too much—

I started awake as I heard a noise outside. It sounded like a car door slamming shut. I looked at my phone. No message. It was ten past six. I’d been asleep for a good while. I got out of bed and ran to the window which looked out over the driveway, pulling back the curtain. It was pitch-black outside.

I could only just make him out in the darkness, but there he was, standing by his car, his hands in his pockets, staring up at the front of the chateau, no doubt trying to figure out which was my room. He’d been in here, after all, and my pulse quickened at the memory.

I wanted him.

I was in my pyjamas but I couldn’t wait long enough to get dressed. I opened my door, ran into the corridor and down the stairs, flew into the hall and pulled open the front door. He turned to look at me, his face impassive. I came down the steps slowly as he walked forward, my feet on the freezing stone. I stopped on the second to last one as he reached the bottom so I was staring down at him as he looked up at me.

His gaze travelled down and he saw the squirrel around my neck. He reached out to touch it. I shivered as his fingertips traced my collarbone. I could feel it, thrumming between us, the pull, the charge. Who would make the first move?

I couldn’t resist any longer. As his arms closed around me, I moved in to kiss him, melting into him, relishing his warmth, his strength, the cologne that had haunted me from the very first day.

‘You’re cold,’ he murmured, and he picked me up, climbing up the steps and pushing open the door of the chateau with his shoulder. It slammed shut behind us as he headed up the staircase. I smiled to myself as we climbed higher and higher. Me, the chatelaine, in my lover’s arms. Could it be that it was possible to have it all?

As the first trickle of light came in through the window, we lay in each other’s arms, whispering. It was that special time of day, when the world outside starts coming to life, but everyone inside is still sleeping.

‘I can’t believe you drove all this way. On Christmas night. You hadn’t had too much to drink?’

‘ Non. I had to drive back to my apartment from Camille’s house. I was careful all day. And I did the … you know.’ He mimed a breathalyser.

‘Good.’ I was running my fingers through his hair. Oh God, his hair. I would never tire of it.

There was something creeping up on me, though. A sense of guilt. We hadn’t wasted time on words, but I needed to tell him.

‘Rémy. The chateau – Piers and Lismay aren’t going to sell it to you.’

‘No?’ He lifted one shoulder and one eyebrow to indicate he was surprised, but seemingly not worried.

‘No. My father and I are going to buy half from them. And I’m going to run it.’

His second eyebrow shot up. I couldn’t read his expression. He shook his head as if he was weighing up the information, then shrugged again. He was matter-of-fact. ‘I am glad. You are the right person. You belong here.’ And then he smiled. A warm smile, not the embittered grimace of a man who had lost. ‘Does my mother know?’

‘I don’t think so. Not yet.’ I wasn’t sure who’d get that short straw.

He winced. ‘I will let someone else tell her.’ But his eyes were laughing. ‘Poor Papa.’

‘Will she be angry?’ I didn’t like the thought of his father being made to suffer.

‘Maybe. But only for a while. It was her dream. But not mine. Or Papa’s. You believe that, right?’

‘Yes, of course.’ He had no reason to lie.

‘It was always too big a project. We need to concentrate on the wine. But Maman , she is very ambitious. Always.’

I could imagine them all, in the boardroom. Sabine outlining her vision, a runaway train impossible to stop. Rémy and his father trying to make her see reason.

‘That’s cool. I admire her for it.’ And I did. She had balls, Madame Gaspard.

‘So you will stay here?’ He was drawing those circles. On my hip bone.

‘Mmm.’ I could hardly think. ‘Of course.’

He bent his head to kiss my collarbone, tracing his lips along the length of the necklace chain. Who knew your collarbone was quite so erogenous? I squirmed, letting out a helpless whimper.

‘Oh, dear. Should I stop?’ He drew away and looked down at me with a teasing smile.

‘No,’ I said. ‘Don’t stop. Any of it. Don’t stop. Ever.’

Piers, ever the gentleman, insisted it should be he who delivered the bad news, and he headed over to the vineyard two days after Christmas to tell the Gaspards they would not be taking them up on their offer.

In the meantime, I emailed Belinda to tell her I wouldn’t be editing the magazine, because I had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She replied swiftly.

Honestly, Connie – that sounds like a dream come true. And if you ever want to write for us, the door is always open.

I felt vindicated, for I’d been worried about letting her down, even though I knew that was how the world worked. Better offers came along and people took them. It had happened to me often enough when I was an editor. The key was to be open and honest. People appreciated you for that.

Piers came back from the vineyard with his thumbs up.

‘They took it well. To be honest I think Monsieur was relieved. Madame not so much. But they will be here for dinner on New Year’s Eve, as usual.’

I saved telling Fiona for when I picked her up from the airport. She appeared through the arrivals gate, her legs long in her trademark leather leggings and a scarlet silk blouson and I felt as if I’d known her forever.

‘You are absolutely kidding me?’ She pounded her fists on her knees in excitement in the front of the car.

‘I’m going to need your help. We need to take that place to the next level before we reopen. As soon as I get the money from Cheltenham, we are all systems go.’

Piers and Lismay had agreed that a tranche of my money would be invested in the chateau straight away, to repaint it and update some of the furnishings. And some of it would be used to convert the prune barn for them, so they could separate themselves off. Eventually, one day, if I made a success of it, I would be able to buy them out.

Harry and Edie were beside themselves at the news.

‘Nice one, Mum,’ said Harry, nodding his approval with typical understatement.

‘Oh my God. Can I come and work here when I finish uni?’ asked Edie. ‘You’ll need a marketing person, right? To do all your social media?’

‘I’m going to need a chambermaid first.’

‘I can do beds and reels.’

If I loved my daughter for anything it was her willingness to roll her sleeves up.

‘I’d love that, darling. Come for the summer. Then see how you feel.’

I wanted her to make her own way in the world, but three months at the Chateau Villette would do her no harm. It had been the making of me, after all.

Lilou cried when I told her I was taking over. It was the first time she’d let her guard down and shown me her vulnerable side. I think the chateau was the first place she felt secure, so to know that things were staying the same was a relief to her.

‘I want you to run the kitchen,’ I told her. ‘Under my supervision, of course.’

‘You think I can do it?’

‘I’ll get you help. And I’ll always be there. It’s teamwork, remember?’

Lilou rose to the occasion and helped me cook a magnificent feast on New Year’s Eve. We were having the traditional French réveillon – course after course of indulgence that went on until after midnight – for this was a celebration, and a thank-you, and a new beginning. And a farewell, to Delphine, for she had decided that this was the perfect time for her to leave. Hervé would carry on supplying us with vegetables, but Delphine was going to retire, to spend more time in the garden with him, to be with her family.

We made blinis to have with caviar, and coq au vin , and I showed Lilou how to make the ouefs à la neige that had been my mum’s trademark. As I spooned the ‘snow eggs’ into the crème anglaise, and Lilou dusted them with gold leaf, it felt symbolic, to be passing on this knowledge.

At midday, I realised we were going to be thirteen for dinner that night and panicked.

‘It’s bad luck, Lilou.’

‘I won’t come. So you will be twelve.’

‘No way. This dinner is for all of us. Do you think your grandmother would join us?’

Lilou gave one of her expressive shrugs, an elaborate gesture that said ‘I haven’t a clue but I can but ask and maybe she’ll say yes.’

Which she did. Grand-mère agreed she would come, but there was no way she would stay up until midnight. Rémy was going to pick her up and drive her home at ten o’clock. So there we were. Fourteen.

I did the placement.

I looked at the cast of characters. The power balance. If anyone could stand up to Madame Gaspard, it was Fiona. Harry and Dad would make a fuss of Delphine. Lilou had Edie opposite to give her confidence. I had my boy next to me, and if my lover was at the far end of the table, it didn’t matter, for I would have him to myself later.

Everyone dressed for the occasion. Lismay was like Audrey Hepburn in boat-necked yellow silk with a circular skirt. Edie and Lilou had matching sequinned dresses that were barely bigger than a table napkin. Grand-mère and Delphine were in simple black with low heels and their best jewellery. Madame Gaspard was magnificent in gold lace. I was in my green velvet jumpsuit – I was getting the cost per wear down quite quickly. The men all wore dinner jackets except Harry, who was in brand-new sloganned skate gear, his own version of smart.

Madame Gaspard kissed me on both cheeks when she arrived, and took one of my hands in both of hers. ‘ Félicitations ,’ she said to me, and I think she was being genuine, that she wasn’t being sarcastic, that it wasn’t a gauntlet. There was room for both of us in Rémy’s world. I would make sure of it.

Just before midnight, Piers stood up to make a speech. I thought how well he looked, a million miles from the grey-faced man he’d been when I arrived. He was filled with aplomb as he took the floor.

‘Everyone at this table has helped to give the four of us this opportunity to take the chateau forwards into its next incarnation. Lismay and I have been lucky to be the keeper of the keys for so many years, and we are so proud to give those keys over to our god-daughter Connie, who, I know, will carry on with our spirit in her heart, but will also give it so much of her own wonderful spirit. The spirit she got from her mother, Jeanne, our dear friend who is no longer with us.’ There was a murmur of acknowledgement along the table. ‘But there is one person here who has kept the whole place ticking over. She was the first employee we took on when we arrived, and she has ruled with the quietest rod of iron ever since, never letting us down for a moment, and I don’t know how the chateau will manage without her. But she has trained up her successor, and I feel confident. In the meantime, I want you to raise your glasses to our right hand. To Delphine.’