Chapter 11 #3
Jules nods in a polite, non-committal way. ‘Oui, oui. Pas de problème. Je suppose.’
‘I feel so much better,’ I say, sarcasm dripping from my every word. This is getting ridiculous. ‘I’m not comfortable at all with this level of intrusion. I want to see the footage. All of it. Right now.’ Especially the bits where I might be on camera shagging my husband in the wine cellar.
Jules huffs and puffs. ‘Laptop is not ’ere. Eet’s wiz Jean-Marc. Sorry.’
I growl with frustration under my breath.
‘So, what do you think? Can you sound Cherry out? I’ll ping you the outfit ideas we’ve had. You’ll die.’
It’s as though Ged can’t hear me. He has disappeared off into groomzilla mode. Nothing else matters. He’s smiling at the camera, not even looking at me.
I let out an exaggerated groan. ‘No. We can’t pile anything more on her. Sorry, but you’ll have to figure something else out. Okay? We’re all far too busy.’
He kisses me on the cheek, delighted. ‘I knew you’d sort it.’
A loud gong reverberating through the entire chateau announces that lunch is ready.
Matteo and I are changing out of our costumes and hanging them up very carefully next to our daytime outfits for the wedding.
I have removed my giant platinum-blonde wig, and it is sitting on the coffee table like a ceremonial beefeater.
It is a constant reminder of the incredibly hot sex tape that Matteo and I may have accidentally made for Ged and Liam.
‘Did you get anywhere with Jean-Marc?’ I ask, slipping on a pair of jeans and a cosy, slouchy Christmas jumper with a cute reindeer on it.
It’s as far from sexy as I can manage. I tie my hair into a ponytail and put a slick of lip gloss on my lips.
It’s a basic look but I’m so exhausted from the dance rehearsal, anxious about the video footage and feeling guilty over not telling Matteo about the puppy, never mind how worried I am about leaving my dad on his own while I trot off to live halfway round the planet, and it’s not even one o’clock.
‘Not yet. He kept saying yes but then not committing to when he’d email me the link.’ Matteo sounds frustrated. ‘We may have to acquire the laptop and examine the footage feed ourselves rather than wait.’
‘Acquire the laptop?’ He’s making it sound so easy.
‘Would you rather have those French guys see the tapes first?’
Ah. ‘No. Absolutely not. Let’s do it.’
‘Who knew getting married would lead to a life of crime?’ Matteo smirks dangerously. ‘We’ll do it during lunch. Hopefully they’ll take a break and leave the laptop unattended.’
‘While we’re on the subject of breaking the law,’ I say. ‘There is one other issue I’d like to run by you.’
He sighs jokily. ‘Of course there is.’
‘Now, I don’t want you to think I’m mad…’
He fixes me with his intelligent gaze. ‘That ship sailed long ago.’
‘Funny. So, what do you know about Ming Dynasty vases?’
‘That’s not something I get asked very often. Should I be worried?’ he replies, his eyes crinkling.
Yes. Yes, you should.
Perhaps I should have led with the puppy. It’s a lot cheaper.
‘Also, Ged and Liam found a puppy under their bed but instead of rehoming it, they want to dress it up in human clothes and give it the honour of playing ring bearer at the wedding.’
Matteo chuckles, frowning as though I’m making it all up.
‘It gets worse. They want to adopt it, get a puppy passport and take it back to England with them. And they need us to help them organise it with the town hall or the animal police or whoever is in charge.’
‘And the vase?’ Matteo says, trying not to smirk. ‘Where does that come into it?’
‘Ah, well. The puppy broke a vase, and we’re terrified it’s a Ming one and none of us took out travel insurance.’
‘Why is everything always so full-on when we’re with your friends? I work in the music industry with some of the world’s most difficult divas and there isn’t half as much drama as there is when you lot get together.’
I hesitate. ‘So, is that a yes to helping?’
He nudges me playfully. ‘Absolutely not. But I will definitely visit you in jail.’
‘Don’t even joke. Is there any way we can find out for sure? I mean, shouldn’t they all be in museums instead of lying around people’s mansions for anyone to knock over?’
Matteo’s jaw falls open. ‘Connie, you’re not serious.’ His brows knit together. ‘You think the vase was a genuine antique?’
I bite my lower lip and nod slowly. ‘Not sure.’ I can feel panic bubbling under my skin.
‘Connie,’ he says sternly. ‘Are you telling me everything?’
‘Yes.’ I hesitate. ‘Except that Ged took a vase from downstairs to replace it and gave me the broken one to hide.’ There’s no way I’m going to confess to not having told my dad about us moving to LA while I’m in this much trouble.
He takes a long inhale as though trying to remain patient. ‘And you just went along with it?’
‘Mmm-hmmm.’
He rolls his eyes the tiniest fraction, but I still see it. ‘And do we think these incidents were all captured on camera?’
Oh, God.
‘We need to get downstairs to catch Jules and Jean-Marc before they leave for lunch!’ I yelp.