A French Affair Read Online Free

Jenny, but she can’t have him and there are so many firework parties at this time of year. He hates bangs.’
    As Gina had been sure when she’d heard his voice that he was going to cancel, she found herself saying, ‘Oh, that’s fine. Bring him. The girls aren’t going to be here after all. I’m not that keen on bangs either.’
    ‘Good. I will. Thank you. I’ll see you at eight then.’
    Gina sat where she was for a few minutes after they had disconnected. What had Aunt Rainey been thinking of? What on earth had been going on in her mind when she wrote those letters and left the strange instructions with her solicitor? Was she, Gina, going to experience more life changes than she’d already taken on? And if so, was she up for it?
    Gina went through to the sitting room which was also her office. The little cottage, though enchanting, didn’t have room for a separate work space. Her friend Dan, a property search consultant who had found her new homefor her, had been concerned about that, but she had reassured him that when the cupboard-cum-second bedroom was no longer full of stuff to unpack, she could move up there.
    It was going to be tough setting up her business in an area where she only had one business contact. The first thing she’d done when she’d arrived the previous week was to get herself online and her post redirected.
    Her client would pay the bills for a month or so but would not cover anything extra. She had to find some more work as soon as possible. At least as a public-relations person who specialised in marketing she had plenty of ideas as to how to do that, and she decided a leaflet was the answer. When times were hard it was more important than ever to make sure your name was out there, and she would do this by getting her leaflet to every business in the surrounding area. Later that day, when she was at last happy with her copy, she looked up a local printer and drove over to see him.
     
    Sally arrived at quarter past seven that evening, laden with baskets and boxes.
    ‘This is so you can do a makeover on my house?’ asked Gina while she and Sally were still kissing each other hello.
    ‘I know you’ve only just moved in and won’t have had time to do anything to make this place anything like a proper home. I’m just here to help.’ She looked around critically.
    ‘I’ve been frantic all day working!’ said Gina, wishing she didn’t sound as if she was apologising for attending to the practicalities of life and not the aesthetics.
    People meeting the sisters for the first time often assumed that Gina was the stronger character, but now she surrendered to the soft and scented bulldozer that was her sister on a mission.
    Gina moved boxes, found chairs and rugs and generally assisted as Sally performed the sort of miracle usually seen on television with a staff of thousands and a celebrity to help.
    By ten to eight Gina slumped in the only armchair and looked about her. ‘Wow!’ she said.
    ‘Hmm, not too bad, given I didn’t have long,’ said Sally, looking around her with a satisfied-bordering-on-smug expression.
    Tea lights glowed on every surface. A rug lay in front of the fireplace and Gina’s work area was covered with a deep red cloth studied with tiny mirrors which reflected the candlelight. What had been a desk looked like a cross between a dresser and a shrine. The papers were in a box Sally had converted into a filing tray; the computer had been relegated to the bedroom.
    Gina’s pillows had been wrapped in more red tablecloths – a student trip to India meant Sally had dozens of these – so the sofa and armchair looked deeply inviting. There was a bunch of Michaelmas daisies and Japanese anenomes from Sally’s garden on the windowsill as well as more tea lights.
    Sally twitched a cushion. ‘Looks OK, doesn’t it?’
    ‘Frankly I think it looks like a bordello, but a very cosy one,’ said Gina.
    ‘Now all you need is a fire. Does the fireplace work?’ said