A French Affair Read Online Free Page A

Sally, ignoring Gina’s comment.
    ‘Yes, and the landlady had the chimney swept.’ Shepaused. ‘But it’s not that cold and the heating works OK. Do we really need a fire?’
    ‘It’ll make the place look more welcoming,’ said Sally, rummaging in the only basket not yet empty. ‘Matches, matches, come to Mummy.’ She looked at her sister impatiently. ‘Now find some glasses, do. I’ve brought wine.’ Sally was setting the scene and it had to be perfect.
    Gina found the glasses and a cloth to polish them with in case they were dusty after the move. She didn’t bother to protest that it was a business meeting and not a party because she knew Sally wouldn’t listen. As far as Sally was concerned, where there was more than one person gathered together it was a celebration, the space had to look pretty and if it was after six o’clock there had to be wine. She had inherited their mother’s gift for hospitality. Gina hadn’t to the same extent; although she liked people to be comfortable and for the place to be tidy, she couldn’t dress a room quite as well as Sally could.
    Once Sally had the makings, including candle ends, newspaper and kindling, she looked up at her sister. ‘OK, over to you. Light the fire.’
    Gina smiled as she knelt on the hearthrug. Her sister could do the pretty bits but Gina could get a fire going quicker than anyone.
    When the wood Sally had brought had caught and the fire was going nicely, Sally gave her sister a critical inspection. Gina was wearing jeans and jumper.
    ‘This is fine,’ said Gina, brushing bits of stick off herself. ‘The jeans are clean, the jumper is newish and I’ve put mascara on. Look.’ She batted her eyelashes to demonstrate. ‘If I put any more on he’ll think I’m weird. I wasn’t wearing any make-up when we first met.’
    ‘I know,’ said Sally grimly. ‘You never do. You are thirty, you know, maybe it’s time to stop relying on your wonderful natural complexion.’
    Suddenly worried, Gina peered into the mirror. ‘Do I look old?’
    ‘Of course not. Anyway, you look great in candlelight. Now let me just have a final check that everything is perfect . . .’
     
    By the time there was a knock on the door, a little after eight, the cottage looked cosier than it had for years and certainly since the short time Gina had lived in it. Even by Sally’s high standards it was extremely pretty and inviting.
    In the flurry to create the perfect
Country Living
effect Gina had forgotten to mention Oscar. She’d forgotten about him herself until she opened the door. Fortunately Sally managed to stop herself imitating her daughters as Oscar loped into the cottage; she kept her exclamation down to a small squeak.
    ‘Matthew, welcome,’ said Gina, to give her sister time to breathe deeply. ‘Sally has insisted on making the cottage look dressed for a party, not a meeting, so I hope you’re up for a glass of wine.’
    Oscar, not waiting for an invitation, flung himself in front of the fire, thus taking up most of the floor space.
    ‘Thank you, that would be nice,’ Matthew said.
    ‘Why is your dog so big?’ Gina heard Sally ask as she went into the kitchen to fetch the drinks.
    As she came back in again she heard Matthew reply, ‘Because he’s mostly Irish wolfhound and big is how they come. And although he’s huge, he’s terrified of bangs. Itmakes it difficult to leave him alone at this time of year, with firework parties going on at all times.’
    ‘Oh I see!’ said Sally, softening somewhat.
    Gina handed him a glass of wine and then one to Sally, who was sitting in the armchair with her feet curled under her. Spiders made Gina do that, not dogs the size of hearthrugs.
    ‘So what’s the rest of him?’ asked Gina, having seated herself on the kitchen chair. She didn’t feel she knew Matthew well enough to sit next to him on the sofa.
    ‘He’s technically a lurcher,’ said Matthew, ‘but he’s mostly wolfhound, which makes him largely