Chapter 31
A short time later, Tomas turned off the main road and into the driveway signposted ‘Lausenne Vineyards’. Fresh, green leaves had unfurled on the apple trees that lined the driveway and to each side, rows and rows of vines stretched out as far as the eye could see.
‘The food here is amazing.’
‘I’d have been happy in a café in the city. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.’
‘It’s no trouble.’
Tomas pulled onto a circular gravel drive, centred by a beautiful statue of a water nymph, swinging her legs on the edge of a large, ornate fountain.
‘Is this somewhere you discovered through work? I mean… your original work.’
He smiled at my terminology as he smoothly manoeuvred the car into a parking space near the door.
‘Yes. Christophe, the owner, was very supportive during that time. There was no competitive spirit between us. We became firm friends very quickly. He knew I was in the wrong job long before I admitted it. Come on, I’m excited for him to meet you.’
He exited smoothly, his body moving athletically. The long-limbed youth I’d known had matured into a solid, muscular and clearly still very fit, in all senses of the word, man.
Tomas was at my door as I swung my feet out and put his hand down, which I took, smoothing my dress as I stood.
‘You really do look beautiful, Kitty.’
‘Thank you.’ I flashed a brief smile. ‘Now, please find me some food; I’m starving.’ Compliments, especially from this man, were still something I was struggling to accept.
He took my hand and we walked together across the gravel and up the stone steps into the double-doored entrance.
‘Tomas!’ A tall, slender, impeccably dressed man in a perfectly cut, stone-coloured suit strode towards us, his arms out. The two men embraced before the man, Christophe I assumed, turned to me. ‘And you must be Kitty.’
I held out my hand and he shook it. ‘I’d have kissed your hand but I don’t look good with a black eye.’ He winked at his friend.
‘Whereas I absolutely rock that look.’
Tomas burst out laughing. Christophe looked confused.
‘I’ll explain later. It’s not how it sounds.’
‘I am glad to hear it! Now, come and sit down.’
* * *
As Tomas had promised, the food was indeed fantastic and as I sat back following the last mouthful of a lighter-than-air lemon and elderflower posset Christophe himself had served, I felt about ready to burst.
‘I’m so full!’
‘Me too.’ Tomas laid his hands across what appeared to be a washboard-flat stomach. ‘Christophe’s food is as good as his wine. He has one of the best chefs in the world in that kitchen.’
‘And you should know,’ his friend said as he approached the table. ‘You did your best to steal her enough times.’
Tomas looked suitably chagrined.
‘And yet you still speak to him?’ I teased, pulling out a chair for him.
Christophe shot Tomas a look. I didn’t miss it.
‘You don’t need his permission to sit down.
We’re not on a date,’ I teased. Drinking in the afternoon wasn’t necessarily a good idea.
Apparently, I was taking longer than expected to learn that lesson.
But then again… Why wasn’t it a good idea?
It wasn’t like I had work to go back to.
And even if I had, it wasn’t unusual to have had a glass or two of wine at lunch here.
I needed to remind myself where I was. Just as I was gently and tentatively reminding myself who I was.
‘And even if we were, you could still sit down without asking his permission.’ I swung my gaze to Tomas in a challenge but there was no return there. Just a look that I couldn’t quite work out and the softest upturn at the corner of his mouth.
‘Kitty is, as usual, completely correct.’
Christophe folded his lanky frame into the chair in as elegant a manner as one would have expected and a waiter appeared from the side with another glass and another bottle of sparkling wine.
‘Now that is excellent news. As you, mon ami, are driving, this one is just for me and my new friend.’
‘Oh, Christophe, I’ve had more than enough!’ I could feel pink in my cheeks and laughter in my voice.
‘Just a small one. Humour me,’ he said, dropping the H when he spoke. I noted that neither Gabby nor Tomas had ever done that. Something in my brain scuttled in and opined that their parents probably wouldn’t have allowed it. The rest of me couldn’t, and couldn’t be arsed, to disagree.
‘So,’ he began, elbows on the table, ‘tell me everything.’
‘Christophe…’ Tomas warned, the glint of humour gone from his face now.
His friend waved him off. ‘Kitty doesn’t mind giving me the gossip on you, do you?’
And actually, I found that I didn’t.
Tomas shook his head, but the square shoulders were no longer being worn as earrings, which I took to be a good sign.
‘Just a few questions for now,’ I countered. ‘Tomas promised me you’d allow him to show me the kitchen garden before the light goes.’
‘Oh, did he now?’
Tomas picked up the thread seamlessly. ‘You’re always bragging about it. Kitty was interested in seeing it. I didn’t think you’d mind.’ He gave a terribly Gallic shrug to punctuate.
‘OK,’ Christophe agreed easily. ‘The rest of the gossip can wait until next time. But this won’t.’ And with that, he expertly poured both of us a glass of perfectly sparkling wine and proposed a toast. ‘To friends, old and new.’
I held up my glass, shooting Tomas a look as I did so.
‘This one is trouble,’ I said to him, joy in my voice.
We clinked glasses.
‘You are right. Again.’
Christophe let out a raucous laugh and looked thoroughly pleased with the announcement.