Chapter 29 #2
The ball is a huge success, the band is brilliant and the atmosphere in the room is electric.
The guests get louder and rowdier as the lights dim and the night goes on.
It feels like someone’s wedding. Everyone in the room wants to have a good time, they want to dance and drink and eat and be merry and happy.
Nico has given them an excuse to dress up and feel good about themselves, and I have no doubt that, from now on, the Chateau du Chèvrefeuille black-tie ball is going to be an annual event.
Later in the night, when it’s dark out, Nico finds me sitting alone outside beneath the canopy of lights.
The smell of the honeysuckle along the walls of the chateau is particularly potent in the warm evenings and I’ve been sitting out here, inhaling its lovely scent and finding a strange comfort in it.
‘There you are,’ Nico says, as though he’s been looking for me. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, I wanted some air,’ I assure him, while he takes the seat next to me. I hold up the glass of rosé I’m currently enjoying. ‘This was definitely the right choice.’
‘It seems to be going down well.’
‘The whole night is going down well,’ I say as he tugs at his collar and exhales, like he hasn’t had a moment to stop and think about it.
Before I can stop myself, I reach over and take his hand, prompting him to bring his eyes up to meet mine.
‘Congratulations, Nico. You did it. You made this a reality.’
The corners of his mouth pull up into a smile as he gazes at me and heat flushes up my neck and into my face as I think about our night in the ballroom when he discussed this dream fifteen years ago and I wonder if he’s thinking about the same thing.
‘Megan,’ he says in a thick voice, ‘would you . . . would you like to dance?’
Not really, I never like to dance. But with Nico?
‘Yeah,’ I say.
He doesn’t let go of my hand as we stand up, moving his fingers to link through mine and leading the way back inside where the band is playing an upbeat song.
But instead of dancing like the rest of the guests happily crooning along and wildly flailing their arms in the air, Nico turns to face me and, with one hand clasping mine, the other moves around my waist, pulling me close and we sway slowly together, my cheek against his jawline.
My head spins from being so close to him, consumed by how good his cologne smells, how warm and strong his hand feels as it slides from my waist round to my back.
I swallow. ‘Nico?’ I say without moving my head, keeping my eyes locked over his shoulder at the guests dancing giddily around us, the music blaring but somehow faded in the background thanks to the intensity of my feelings.
‘Yes?’ he replies, his breath tickling my ear and sending a shiver down my spine.
‘Do you ever think about that night? When we came here to this room?’
He takes a moment and then says quietly, ‘All the time.’
Neither of us says anything else, but I grip his shoulder that bit tighter and he pulls me that bit closer, and I don’t want this song to ever end.
But, like everything, it has to, and when everyone breaks into applause, we do the same, pulling apart to join the clapping and then Nico is needed again elsewhere and he apologises and I smile and say that’s fine, even though I feel cold and bereft without him near.
I realise Mum isn’t anywhere to be seen and I choose to think she’s gone to bed early alone, rather than the other option which is that Laurence has whisked her upstairs – there’s got to be something tragic about my mum having a better sex life than I do – and as the night begins to wind down, I feel a sadness that this surreal evening is soon going to be over.
Before the last song is played, Nico is dragged on stage by the staff and applauded while he looks suitably embarrassed, thanking everyone for coming and then getting off the stage as soon as possible.
I hope he might find his way back to me, but he’s surrounded by others wanting his attention and by the time the last song ends, I’ve lost sight of him.
I say goodbye to my raft teammates who speak to me in a combination of slurred French and English and I linger a little while guests filter out the ballroom and the band packs up.
I spot Francoise helping the staff clear the tables and head towards her.
‘Have you seen Nico? I wanted to say congratulations. For tonight,’ I say casually.
‘I think he’s in the kitchens, helping there. Do you want me to find him?’ she offers.
‘No! No, don’t worry. I’ll see him tomorrow.’
I say goodnight and head upstairs, fighting the feeling of disappointment by reliving those small but wonderful moments Nico and I had together tonight.
In my room, I know I should start the process of getting ready for bed, but I don’t want to, not quite yet.
I go out onto the balcony and I look out at the night sky, listening to the sounds of crockery clinking as it’s cleared, and chairs and tables being moved, and guests chatting and laughing outside while they smoke and make their way to their taxis.
After a while, there’s a knock on the door.
I spin round, inhaling sharply. I know who it is. I hope I know who it is.
My heart leaping, I move over to the door and open it.
Nico is there, one arm leaning on the doorframe, the top buttons of his shirt open, his bow tie undone and hanging loosely around his collar.
‘I had to help clear up,’ he says, his dark eyes locked on mine.
I smile at him, flustered. ‘I know.’
He straightens, a muscle in his jaw twitching. My smile fades at the intensity and seriousness of his expression. My heart leaps with hope.
‘That night in the ballroom fifteen years ago, I told you that next time I would find the courage to kiss you sooner,’ he says.
‘I remember,’ I whisper, swallowing the lump in my throat.
‘Megan, I’ve found the courage,’ he says, his eyes blazing at me. ‘If you want me to.’
I raise my eyebrows, the magic of the evening combined with the wine sweeping aside any dignity or inhibitions that might stand in the way of finally getting what I want.
‘If I want you to? Nico, I’m begging you to.’
For just a moment, the corners of his mouth twitch upwards and then he takes a step towards me, reaching for my waist and pulling me towards him as he dips his head to kiss me so urgently I stumble backwards a little, but his hands are there on my hips, ready to stop me from falling.