There was a long table set up in the dining room covered in party food and in the very middle was a horse made from choux pastry. It was sitting in a field of spun sugar and was very like the horse that Alexandra had repaired when she’d first arrived in France. Two large ovals held together by cream created the body and two smaller ovals made the neck and head. Cream exuded from the pony’s sides, and all the details were in piped chocolate.
‘Penelope had that made,’ said Jack proudly to Alexandra while people were deciding where to sit. ‘And while it does have a faint look of a very large swan, I think it’s a really splendid effort at such short notice.’
‘It’s brilliant! I love it!’ said Alexandra.
‘Penelope made the Victoria jam sponge and I helped David make the chocolate cake. We wanted bridge rolls or little sandwiches but they’re tricky in France so we have tartines instead. You see? Little slices of a flûte with butter and a bit of pâté on it. We all craved fish paste but actually the pâté is much nicer.’
‘I’m sure!’
‘And then we have a selection of gateaux from the bakery.’ He smiled at Alexandra, his eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘And now I’m on tea-making duty. You need an Englishman for that.’
‘Can I help you?’ asked Alexandra, falling on an excuse to leave the room.
‘Of course,’ Jack said.
But it was not to be. Véronique came bearing down on them. ‘Alexandra!’ She smiled. ‘I’m going to be begging a room for the night. Antoine and I will be driving to Paris tomorrow but, naturally, we will need to leave early. It’s more convenient for the main road from the chateau, rather than him having to drive into town and pick me up from here, so I will come home with you all later.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Too much perfume, darling. Far better to be more subtle about it. But you’re very young, you’ll learn.’ Then she clicked her way across the parquet floor.
Alexandra didn’t move.
‘Penny for your thoughts,’ said David, appearing from behind her.
‘I’m just wondering if there’s a more patronising person in the whole of France, or if she takes the prize.’
‘Hm, well, she’s certainly the most patronising person in this room. But I do see her point about the cologne.’
Alexandra regarded her old friend. ‘I know, but eau de cologne is better than eau de brocante,’ she said. ‘Although I am so extremely grateful you bought me this wonderful jacket.’
His shout of laughter was loud enough to make everyone look at him. Alexandra went to stand by Félicité, who was keeping an eye on Stéphie. Not, Alexandra was sure, because she might misbehave but because she might be enveloped by an adoring female who really wanted her father’s attention.
‘Can we all sit down?’ said Penelope. ‘Stéphie needs to blow out her candles and make a wish. And cut the cake,’ she added, sending her daughter a look.
‘That is a very beautiful jacket,’ said Lucinda to Alexandra. Like Véronique earlier, she also wrinkled her nose but didn’t comment on the smell.
The tea was over, and Penelope and Véronique were arranging Stéphie’s presents in the salon. Véronique was taking a very personal interest in the process. Everyone else was standing around, chatting. Stéphie was beginning to get impatient so Alexandra was keeping her entertained.
‘Yes!’ replied Alexandra. ‘It’s Chanel. David bought it for me from a brocante.’
‘A brocante? So it’s second-hand? I could never wear second-hand clothes. But I suppose we have to cut our couture jackets according to our cloth.’ She laughed to highlight her pun, which, annoyingly, Alexandra found quite funny although she didn’t laugh.
Stéphie, who had overheard this conversation but only partially understood it, obviously felt her beloved nanny was being insulted. ‘Lexi is going to inherit a fortune when she’s twenty-five!’
‘Chérie!’ said Antoine, obviously hearing his daughter from a few yards away and heading to join them. ‘We don’t say things like that!’
‘But it’s true! Me and Lexi heard—’
Alexandra was too embarrassed to think of what to say immediately. She just put her hand on Stéphie’s shoulder.
‘One of you should teach that child that it’s vulgar to talk about money,’ said Lucinda.
‘You started it!’ said Stéphie.
Antoine and Alexandra inhaled sharply at the same time.
‘Really,’ went on Lucinda, still outraged. ‘You’re the nanny,’ she said to Alexandra, ‘and you consider yourself to be the child’s father’ – she turned to Antoine – ‘you should teach this child better manners!’
Alexandra didn’t hesitate. ‘Come on, Stéphie, let’s go and look at your presents.’
As she manoeuvred Stéphie out of the dining room, she saw Maxime in the hall.
‘Do go and see Lucinda,’ she begged, hardly giving him time to kiss her on both cheeks. ‘I think you’ll cheer her up. And I’d love a quick word later.’
‘Alexandra!’ said Maxime, throwing up his hands in a gesture of defeat. ‘I was hoping for a very slow word later.’
Stéphie giggled and they went into the salon.
Véronique was tweaking her arrangements. She’d arranged the presents on boxes covered with a cloth on a table, so they looked as if they were in a shop window, although the presents were wrapped. There were little dishes with sweets and flowers in the spaces.
‘Gosh!’ said Henri, who had followed Alexandra’s swift exit from the dining room. ‘Look, Stéphie! Don’t they all look special!’
Véronique inclined her head, looking past him to Lucinda, who had entered the salon hard on Henri’s heels. ‘It is so important to make things special for la p’tite. Poor little motherless child.’ She said this last bit to Lucinda in a slightly gushing way that indicated not having Lucinda for a mother was a major setback.
Alexandra caught Félicité rolling her eyes and wondered how she felt about her father’s colleague becoming matey with her mother. Not thrilled, she imagined.
‘You’ve arranged the presents very prettily,’ said Penelope in a way a teacher might congratulate a promising pupil. ‘Jack? Antoine? Maxime? Come on in. Can you make sure that everyone has a drink and maybe Stéphie can open her presents?’
It occurred to Alexandra that perhaps Stéphie would like to do that without so much public interest and looked at Antoine to see what he thought, but the little girl seemed not to mind.
‘Open this one first,’ said Véronique, indicating the largest present. ‘It’s from your very generous papa. I helped him choose it when we were last in Paris together.’
‘Yes, chérie,’ said Antoine as Stéphie took off the paper. ‘I do hope you like it.’
It was a toy bureau de poste. As Stéphie undid the box its beauty could be appreciated. It had everything and had obviously been expensive. There were toy scales, rubber stamps, envelopes, postage stamps, all sorts of forms to fill in, everything any self-respecting post office could possibly need.
Stéphie got up and ran to her father. ‘Papa! It’s wonderful! Thank you so much!’
‘Ah,’ said Véronique, fondly, ‘I’m so glad you like it, little one. We tried very hard to find the very best one for you that we could.’
Stéphie gave Véronique a rather frightened smile. She picked up another box.
‘That’s from me and Jack, chicken,’ said David. ‘Actually, most of it is at your house. That’s just something to put in it.’
Inside was a set of doll’s house drawing-room furniture, elegant Louis Quinze style, with gold trim and velvet covers.
‘What my friend is trying to say’, said Jack, ‘is that back at the chateau is a doll’s house that we’ve been renovating for you. It’s a bit of an antique, rather like its donors.’
Stéphie had some really lovely things and Alexandra was getting anxious about her present, as she hadn’t seen it. It didn’t need to be the best present the little girl received, but it had to be good enough.
It was a toy bakery. It opened out into a shop with shelves and for the shelves were a plethora of plaster cakes, baguettes, loaves, gateaux, croissants, everything a good boulangerie would sell.
‘Lexi! Thank you!’ Stéphie rushed in for a hug.
‘I’m so glad you like it,’ said Alexandra, returning the hug. ‘David chose it. I didn’t know about your birthday until too late, but it is lovely, isn’t it? We can have a lot of fun playing with it together.’
‘I am so sorry that I won’t be able to play post offices with you,’ said Véronique, apparently suddenly aware that playing with a child was something you were supposed to do. ‘But I will be with your papa, on important business.’
Antoine came and crouched down, to inspect the bakery, which was already having its shelves filled with tiny meringues. ‘When I come back, Stéphie, we will play together more. I promise.’
Stéphie looked around at the adults, who were all looking at her as if she were the main performer at a circus, and began to whisper in her father’s ear. While she was telling her father what she needed him to know, she kept glancing at Alexandra. When finally she’d finished, Antoine said, ‘It’s simply not possible. I am so sorry, little one.’
Alexandra was convinced she had been the subject of the conversation and then was equally convinced she was being neurotic.
Lucinda had apparently become bored with not being the centre of attention. ‘Maxime? Take me out to dinner, please. I find children’s parties so exhausting.’
‘It’s too early for dinner,’ said Penelope to her daughter. ‘And I’m surprised you have found the occasion so tiring. You didn’t involve yourself in the preparation.’
‘Children are so overindulged these days. I’m sure I never had such extravagant gifts when I was that age.’ She gave Stéphie, who was now selling croissants to Jack, a critical look. ‘Of course I understand that you are all over-compensating for the fact that the child has no parents.’
Alexandra found herself confronting Lucinda, not quite sure why she was so outraged but before she could think of something cutting to say, Lucinda turned her disdain on to her. ‘As for you, the nanny, I hope you don’t think anyone believes those enormous pearls to be real. They are quite obviously not!’
Secretly delighted to have this insult to repel, Alexandra pulled out the end of the pearls. ‘David? How much did you pay for these?’
He shrugged. ‘They were part of a job lot of things I bought. A couple of francs, maybe?’
Alexandra took one of the pearls between her teeth and scraped, pretending to look for the gritty feel she knew would not be there. ‘You were robbed! They’re fake!’
Everyone laughed, enjoying the way Alexandra had turned the situation. Then Maxime took her arm and separated her from the group. ‘Lucinda will scratch your eyes out if you’re not careful. She is not a woman who likes other women, especially those who make jokes at her expense. Now what was it you wanted to talk to me about?’
It took Alexandra a second to remember. ‘It’s a legal matter. I have some papers from my family in Switzerland and I can’t understand a word of them.’
‘I’m sure I can help. Would you like to bring them to me? Or shall I collect them?’
‘I’ll bring them,’ said Alexandra. ‘I have some errands to run in town anyway. And Maxime?’
‘Yes?’
‘It will all be confidential, won’t it?’
He was offended. ‘But of course! Totally confidential.’
Alexandra gave him an extra warm smile to placate his wounded feelings. ‘Thank you.’
Eventually, the party began to draw a close and Alexandra turned her mind to where she should put Véronique. She went into the hall so she could think and, to her surprise, Antoine followed her.
Partly because she was embarrassed to be on her own with him, Alexandra spoke quickly. ‘Do you think, as it was short notice, Véronique would sleep in the little room beside yours?’ she asked. ‘It’s got clean sheets on the bed, and—’
‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘Véronique cannot stay with us. She can spend another night with her friend. I can pick her up from here perfectly easily.’ He walked back into the group.
Alexandra watched his retreating figure as if he was a hero about to rescue a dog from a burning building.
‘What did you say to Papa at the party that was so secret, Stéphie?’ asked Félicité, when at last everyone was in the car (the children in the back this time) and they were finally on the way home.
Stéphie started to speak but Alexandra interrupted, worried about what she might say. ‘She won’t want to tell you in the car in front of everyone,’ she said quickly before Stéphie, who was probably perfectly happy to do so, could confide. Alexandra couldn’t be sure, but she was worried that Stéphie had said something to her father about her fortune, which was fast becoming a curse rather than a benefit. ‘If it was a secret then, it’s a secret now.’
There was a certain amount of huffing and tutting and almost audible eye-rolling from the back seat, and Alexandra exhaled.
‘Véronique and my mother don’t approve of you, Lexi,’ said Félicité, possibly wanting to make trouble.
Alexandra saw Antoine frown and draw breath, possibly to tell off his eldest daughter.
‘What makes you think that?’ asked Alexandra, turning round so she could smile at Félicité.
‘I heard them talking. You don’t dress properly for a nanny and are far too sophisticated.’
‘They’re entitled to their opinion,’ said Alexandra calmly.
‘They don’t think you should mix with people as if you were on the same level. At least, that was what Véronique said, and then my mother—’
‘That’s enough, chérie,’ said Antoine firmly.
Alexandra mouthed ‘tell me later’, partly because she couldn’t resist hearing what Véronique and Lucinda thought about her, and partly so Félicité wouldn’t be mortified by being told off. Antoine couldn’t really be described as strict, Alexandra thought, but he wasn’t weak, either.
