Johnny Hallyday singing ‘Let’s Twist Again’ in French hit them as soon as the front door was opened by a black-clad boy with long hair and a pale face. He regarded them for a couple of seconds before nodding. They all went in.
It was a fairly wild party, far more grown up than the groups of girls and boys too shy to speak to each other that she’d half expected and definitely hoped for. Alexandra could tell that Félicité and Henri were half enchanted and half terrified. She felt a bit like that herself. It was so noisy, so hot, so full of young people dancing. The smell of aftershave and sweat was a heady combination. But it was too late to turn them round and take them home; they’d never speak to her again.
Henri spotted his friend and led the way to him. They exchanged some words in French that Alexandra couldn’t hear or understand.
Henri shouted to Alexandra and Félicité that they should have a drink. Alexandra wondered if she could forbid them to drink alcohol. She decided not but she’d have to keep a close eye on how much they had. As Henri and Félicité followed Henri’s friend the only thing she could do was to tag along behind.
There was a long table covered in bottles and paper cups. There was wine of various sorts, lemonade in big bottles, Orangina in little bottles as well as something called Pschitt! and bottles of beer.
Alexandra arrived just as Félicité was being handed something by the young man who’d let them in.
‘It’s just wine and lemonade,’ Félicité said. ‘Don’t worry! I won’t get drunk.’
Alexandra accepted a cup of the same thing and realised you could only taste the lemonade, which meant you could very easily get drunk quite quickly.
‘Only have two,’ Alexandra said to Félicité. Henri was having a beer, which she thought was preferable.
‘Don’t fuss!’ said Félicité, gulping down her drink and holding out her paper cup for a refill.
Never had Alexandra felt so unqualified to do her job. How was she expected to keep her charges safe? She should never have said they could go to this party.
Just then a boy tapped Félicité on the shoulder. Félicité put down her cup and followed the boy on to the dance floor. Alexandra breathed more easily. She was delighted that Félicité had been asked to dance and was being accepted into the party. If she was dancing she wasn’t drinking or doing anything else she shouldn’t be doing.
Henri was talking to a group of boys and seemed to be on his first beer. As neither of her charges had had too much to drink, she could relax a little. She’d said they’d leave the party at eleven. She only had to keep them safe for another three hours.
Before she could think further, someone pulled her on to the dance floor.
As she could see Félicité dancing, she didn’t object to this boy expecting her to go along with his wishes. She copied him and did the twist. While the dancing was fast, it felt safe. It was good to dance, she realised, and when another boy wanted her to jive, she remembered the steps from another party, back in England.
Alexandra soon found she was quite popular. No one spotted her as being older. In fact, the age range of the guests was quite wide. She was by no means the oldest, and nor were Henri and Félicité the youngest. Alexandra found this reassuring. It felt like a family party. There could be no objection to that.
However, a bit later, while Alexandra was drinking a bottle of Orangina to quench her thirst, the lights went down. It was apparently time for ‘le slow’. Quite a few young men wanted to get Alexandra on to the floor for this one and she had to be quite sharp in her refusals. But then she thought that maybe she should have danced because she’d have been able to spot Félicité better. When the music changed and it was still slow, and some other young man tried his luck with Alexandra, she accepted. She allowed him to put his hand on the back of her neck but wouldn’t let him dance cheek to cheek. She was here to look for her charges.
She saw Henri quite quickly. He was still chatting with other boys his age and, when the music ended, Alexandra got rid of her rather affronted dance partner and went to speak to him.
‘Where’s Félicité?’ she asked in English.
He shrugged and shook his head. ‘Dunno.’
‘I really need to know where she is!’
‘Are you looking for Henri’s sister?’ asked a friend, obviously proficient in English. ‘She went outside.’
‘Outside? Really?’ Alexandra went to look for her.
The outside area was full of couples taking advantage of the darkness, which was relieved only by one light fixed quite low to the side of the building. It took Alexandra several minutes to find Félicité.
She was being thoroughly kissed. Alexandra’s first instinct to grab hold of the boy doing it had to be suppressed because Félicité was kissing him back with enthusiasm. She wasn’t being forced to do anything she didn’t want to do. Alexandra turned away. What should she do? Watch from afar like some weird chaperone?
She moved to where the light was better so she could check the time. It was only ten o’clock. She couldn’t drag her charges home yet. She’d promised that they could stay until eleven.
Alexandra went back to the dancing. ‘Le slow’ was being enthusiastically indulged in. She felt a bit surprised there were no parents visible. She’d always got the impression that French children were more closely chaperoned than English teenagers, but she remembered that Henri’s friend went to the progressive school that Antoine’s children might well go to and realised that his parents might have given their children more liberty. Although she’d never thought this before, now she felt a couple of stern parents turning on the lights and turning off the music would be a jolly good thing.
The air was blue with cigarette smoke – something else she now disapproved of. Alexandra had never smoked after she’d nearly passed out when she’d tried it when she was at boarding school. All the partygoers’ clothes would have to be washed before they could even be put in the wardrobes, they would be so impregnated with the smell.
She had just spotted Henri, who was in the control of a very attractive blonde girl who knew exactly what to do with a boy who had probably never been kissed, when a man came up to her.
He was wearing jeans and a leather jacket similar to the one Alexandra had left in the car. He had slicked-back hair and a medallion round his neck. His almost tangible air of entitlement was possibly caused by the admiring looks that the other young people gave him as he passed.
‘’Ello,’ he said, in English. ‘Why are you all alone? Has your boyfriend abandoned you? Let me take his place.’
He pulled her on to the dance floor and Alexandra wondered if anyone ever asked anyone to dance in the old-fashioned way, or if women were always pushed and shoved about as if they were cattle. But as she had to pass the time somehow, she went along with it. She kept her head turned, so most of what this man had access to was her ear. She was aware the other girls were looking at her with envy.
The man got fed up with not getting what he wanted from a slow dance. ‘Come with me,’ he said, and led her outside. Alexandra went because she wanted to check on Félicité, having decided she would try to make her leave the party early. The combination of boredom and anxiety she was currently enduring was deathly. Also the attentions of the probably self-appointed ‘leader of the pack’ might yet become seriously annoying.
She allowed him one kiss, and she put her arms round his neck so she could look at her watch. Carefully, she transferred it to the other wrist, so it caught the light and she could see it better. Time was going so slowly.
Kissing wasn’t enough for this man who could, he seemed to think, have any woman he wanted; he pushed his hand up her jumper, trying to undo her bra. She was not having this! When grinding her foot on to his instep only made him more determined, she brought her knee up sharply between his legs.
‘Putain!’ he said, staggering back. Alexandra was braced for a further attack but the man just spat on the ground near her. ‘English whore!’ he said loudly and pushed his way through the small crowd who had gathered.
‘I think we’d better go,’ said Alexandra to Félicité who, hearing the commotion, had left her boy and joined her.
‘We certainly should,’ Félicité agreed.
‘That’s Tito,’ said Félicité’s boy, who had followed her over. ‘No one crosses him.’
Alexandra suddenly felt a bit shocked. She’d probably been in greater danger than she’d realised. ‘We need to find Henri.’
‘I’ll get him,’ said the boy. ‘You shouldn’t go back in there. Go to your car and wait there.’
Félicité came with her. Once they were a little way from the house and the possibly hostile crowd, they stopped, waiting for Henri. Nerves got to Alexandra and she started to laugh. Félicité joined in. ‘That was very impressive, what you did back there!’
Alexandra shook her head. ‘It’s a technique. I’ll show you how to do it. Where’s Henri?’
‘He’s coming now,’ said Félicité. ‘Jules will fetch him.’
Thinking that Jules was turning out to be kind and responsible, Alexandra began to feel guilty. She was the one who had nearly got herself into trouble, not her fifteen-year-old companion.
‘Did you have a nice time, Félicité? Did I drag you away from a really nice boy?’
‘It’s OK,’ said Félicité. ‘We exchanged numbers. On a cigarette packet. And,’ she went on, too excited to remember she shouldn’t be confiding in the woman who was effectively her nanny, ‘he goes to the school Papa wants us to go to but he comes home every weekend.’
‘That’s great!’ said Alexandra. ‘Ah, here’s Henri. I hope he’s all right. He seems to have make-up smeared on his face.’
‘I’m glad we left our coats in the car,’ said Henri. ‘I saw the room where they were kept. The pile of them was a mile high. It would have taken ages to find them.’
At least he’d only seen a pile of coats, thought Alexandra as they all got into the car.
Alexandra enjoyed the drive home. Now they were away from the party and she could stop worrying, it seemed much more fun in retrospect. She must make sure Félicité learnt how to get rid of men she didn’t want groping her – as far as it was possible; she was sure no one else would teach her.
‘Did you enjoy the party?’ she asked, accidentally slipping into being a nanny. ‘I mean – was that fun?’
‘It was a bit of a shock,’ said Henri. ‘I mean – girls! – but yeah, it was good. And it means I’ll know a few people when we go to that school.’
‘Mm,’ said Félicité. ‘It was a bit frightening, but yes, it was fun.’
‘It was a bit frightening for me, that’s for sure,’ said Alexandra. ‘But I’ve been through worse.’ She was thinking of a time in England when she and her friends had had to leave a party in the country rather suddenly.
‘What? Because of Tito?’ asked Félicité. ‘You were so brave!’
‘No. He was a creep who felt he could do what he liked with women. I’ve met types like him before. No, I was worried because I was in charge of you two. I didn’t want to spoil your fun, but I didn’t want you to do anything dangerous either. But never mind. We’ll soon be home, drinking hot chocolate, discussing boys.’ She paused. ‘Not you, Henri. You don’t have to discuss boys.’
‘I don’t mind,’ said Henri.
As Alexandra turned the car into the drive and saw a car parked in front of the chateau that hadn’t been there before she had another strong attack of déjà vu, when her house in London had been full of lights when it should have been dark.
Please let this be friends of David or Jack, she prayed in the two seconds before it was clear whose car it was.
‘It’s Papa!’ said Félicité excitedly.
‘Tell me quickly,’ said Alexandra. ‘Are you two allowed to go to parties?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Henri. ‘We’ve never been invited to one before.’
Alexandra was going to drive the car round to the stable yard where it was kept when the door of the chateau opened and Véronique came out. It seemed rude to ignore her so she parked the car behind Antoine’s.
‘Where have you been!’ demanded Véronique. ‘And what have you done with Stéphie?’
Alexandra decided not to engage in conversation until everyone was out of the car and in the house.
Antoine was in the doorway with Véronique by the time this had happened.
‘Papa!’ said Félicité, running to his arms. ‘You’re home early!’
‘And you’re home late, chérie,’ said Antoine, returning the hug. ‘Where have you been? And where is your little sister?’
‘We’ve been to a party,’ said Henri, going in for a hug. ‘Stéphie’s with Grand-mère.’
‘Thank God she’s safe!’ said Véronique, clasping her hands to her chest.
Alexandra didn’t say anything. It was far better if the explanations came from the children, she felt.
Antoine looked down the length of his long nose at Alexandra, his expression entirely inscrutable. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. His children were safe, had suffered no injury, although now she heard them talking to their father she realised they may have had a little bit too much to drink. Yet she felt guilty, remiss and a bad carer.
‘I can’t believe you allowed the children to go to a party without their father’s permission!’ said Véronique.
‘Excuse me,’ said Alexandra. ‘If I could just squeeze by you and get into the house?’
She had forgotten how beautiful the hall looked, dressed for Christmas and smelling strongly of pine, rosemary and sweet box. Alexandra found the fragrance very calming. Milou came up and gave her a gentle woof of welcome, his two satellites dancing along behind him. She rubbed his neck and under his chin. The kittens ran up her leg and landed on her shoulder. ‘Hello, you lot. Have you been good?’
She was tired suddenly, and would very much have liked to slip upstairs and go to bed without any more conversation, but she knew that wasn’t possible.
‘Véronique, as Félicité said, you’re earlier than expected and your room isn’t ready,’ said Alexandra.
‘I’ve put my things in the room where I was before,’ said Véronique. ‘I threw all the clothes that were on the bed on to the chaise longue. You don’t need to tidy it until tomorrow because I’m very tired and need to sleep now, but can you please put clean sheets on the bed?’
No, Alexandra decided, she could not put clean sheets on her bed so that Véronique could sleep in it. But nor did she have the energy to spend much time arguing. ‘I’ll certainly find you some clean sheets,’ she said, smiling warmly as if this was a generous gesture. ‘We are halfway through preparing you a very lovely room at the other end of the chateau, near where David and Jack have their rooms.’
Before Alexandra could go up to the linen cupboard, David appeared in the hall, wearing a very flamboyant dressing gown which he may well have acquired from a Noël Coward play.
‘What on earth is going on?’ he said. ‘Oh! The master of the house has arrived! Welcome! Shall I make everyone a snack?’
Even Véronique found it difficult to continue to be so frosty now. David’s presence was so benign and welcoming it affected everyone.
‘I’m starving!’ said Félicité and Henri, as one.
‘So am I,’ said Antoine. ‘Let’s stop standing round in the hall – which does look beautiful – and go through to the kitchen.’
Alexandra slipped upstairs and found sheets for her bed. She laid them on top so Véronique could find them and rescued a few bits of her own and took them to Stéphie’s bedroom. She also scooped up anything she really didn’t want Véronique to find and then went back downstairs.
David was the master of the creation of meals and hot drinks at a moment’s notice and Antoine had got the range going in a way only he could, as well as producing a bottle of brandy and glasses.
Véronique obviously realised the wisdom of going with the general mood. She accepted a glass of brandy and a little piece of toast with pâté. David had obviously rustled up a plate of these to keep people going while he made a rich cheese sauce for Welsh rarebit.
Félicité and Henri got through nearly a whole flûte toasted with pâté.
‘So,’ said Antoine when there was a pause after everyone’s initial hunger was satisfied. ‘Tell me about this party.’
‘You should never have let them go to a party!’ Véronique said again, addressing Alexandra. ‘What were you thinking?’
‘I was thinking – or rather I thought – that it was nice for Félicité and Henri to be invited to a party at Christmas,’ she said. ‘But as I didn’t know the hosts, I decided the best thing to do was to go with them and disguise myself as a fellow guest.’ This last bit was meant as a joke but only David gave a humph of amusement.
‘And we all came back safely,’ said Félicité. She glanced at Alexandra. ‘Alexandra didn’t take her eyes off us, all party.’
Antoine laughed. ‘How very – annoying of her.’
Alexandra looked at him properly now she wasn’t overcome with unnecessary guilt. ‘It must have been very annoying but I didn’t know what else I could do to keep them safe.’
‘You could have forbidden them to go!’ said Véronique. Then she looked at the plate David had put in front of her: golden cheese sauce on toasted baguette, browned under the grill and sizzling. Her outrage subsided.
‘I think we have established that the children were safe,’ said Antoine calmly. ‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Alexandra.’
