Читать книгу Freedom Fries and Cafe Creme - Jocelyne Rapinac - Страница 7

‘To eat is a necessity, to eat intelligently is an art.’

François, Duc de La Rochefoucauld,

1613–1680, French writer

‘Papa, what’s a New Year’s resolution?’

Armand, reading and sipping his coffee, was a little taken aback by this sudden question. He got up from the comfortable sofa and turned up the flames of the gas fire until he could feel an agreeable warmth on his face. Then he settled back down, inviting Juliette to sit beside him …

A few minutes later, she seemed satisfied with her father’s explanation.

‘Have you made one, Papa?’

‘Well, er, let me think about it …’

The little girl was all ears.

‘I promise I’ll tell you later, Juliette.’

‘OK, Papa! Then I might make one myself.’

Juliette was always so conciliatory.

January and its New Year’s resolutions! And what were Armand’s, since, for once, he was feeling rather satisfied with his life? He simply wanted to go on trying to be as happy as he could, and to keep certain habits that he believed were good for him and Juliette.

Would a relationship actually contribute more to his happiness? Or would it simply be a call of the flesh, since he felt no lack of companionship or affection right now? And he had hardly been able to trust anyone after what Han had done to him and Juliette.

On the other hand, there was Liana, whom he’d met at Brenda’s New Year’s Eve dinner party. How attractive, friendly and witty she was. Even though they’d been seated at a table with other people, the two of them had managed a good bit of subtle flirtation throughout the evening, while enjoying Brenda’s exquisite festive dinner.

Much of their flirting had been based around the sensual enjoyment of the food – the aroma, the deliciousness and beautiful presentation of dishes – and the sweetness of the champagne had helped oil the wheels.

They’d been having such a very good time … until Armand had had to leave when his mobile phone rang to remind him it was late and he should return home.

‘So soon?’ said Liana, disappointed, feeling that the spell of the evening had been broken.

Armand muttered a vague excuse, but his face showed his regret.

‘Anyway, it was very nice to meet you, Armand!’

Liana was smart enough to see she couldn’t say anything to detain him, and though she could imagine many scenarios that would explain his sudden departure, she didn’t ask.

‘I hope I’ll see you again,’ she added, summoning her self-confidence. After all, they’d established a bond through their conversation and their shared love of gourmet food.

‘I hope so, too,’ Armand replied sincerely.

He left, thinking that he would definitely contact Brenda to learn more about Liana, and possibly to ask her for Liana’s phone number.

Actually, Brenda had called Armand the day after to tell him that Liana had asked for his phone number.

Women nowadays do take the initiative, don’t they? And why not? thought Armand.

That had been a few days ago and Liana hadn’t called. Not that Armand really expected her to, but one never knew. He hadn’t called her, after all. Even if he’d felt very attracted to her – he had never enjoyed such sensuous dining with anyone before – he was a little afraid he might be disappointed if they met in other circumstances.

Snow was falling slowly, bringing an atmosphere of peace to the neighbourhood.

It’s hard to believe we’re in Manhattan, mused Armand, watching the snowflakes drifting down. As his mind wandered back to Liana and New Year’s Eve, Suzanne Ciani’s piano music, playing soothingly in the background, added a little melancholy note to his mood.

Later on, Armand knew, he would have much less time to relax since Rick and Carla, his employers, would be back.

He turned from the window to look at Juliette. She was drawing a very colourful picture to give to Rick and Carla. The couple were portrayed with outsized smiley faces, standing beneath a dark, slim Eiffel Tower, and with a big sun shining in the background.

Juliette was really into her drawing, the tip of her little tongue pressed against her upper lip in concentration. Even her teachers were amazed, and happy to see that, unlike many of her peers, she did other things besides watching TV or playing computer games.

Armand walked around the spacious, overly decorated apartment to check that everything was in order before Rick and Carla arrived. The cleaning lady was just finishing and he was satisfied that the place had never looked better.

Three strident buzzes from the doorbell.

‘Papa, they’re back!’ Juliette ran to the front door.

Yes, Rick and Carla had returned. Although it was their home, they always rang the bell to announce their arrival since Armand and Juliette lived in. ‘It’s a question of respect,’ they insisted.

The door opened on a pair of smiling, artificially tanned faces. Tony, the apartment block concierge, was behind them, pushing their abundant luggage on a trolley.

‘Hello, Rick and Carla. Welcome home! You look great,’ Armand greeted them.

‘Yeah,’ Juliette confirmed, animated, jumping up and clapping her hands.

‘Bonjour, tous les deux, so good to see you! And to be home!’ Carla and Rick said almost in unison.

They skipped into the living room, took their coats off, sat down on the big white sofa and sighed with pleasure. Juliette immediately seated herself between the new arrivals. The three of them giggled with delight. Rick and Carla admired the picture Juliette had drawn for them. It would be added to their significant collection, as they were the lucky recipients of most of Juliette’s artwork.

Armand told Tony where to leave the luggage. Then the concierge departed with a contented smile, showing Armand the bottle of Armagnac that Rick and Carla had given him.

Carla sought out the presents she and Rick had brought for Juliette: a beautiful vintage doll and a French book.

‘I’ll call her Armande, after Papa.’

Rick, Carla and Armand smiled because that’s what the little girl called all her dolls.

‘We had a nice, peaceful time with my parents over Christmas,’ Rick said. ‘They send their regards. The Paris trip was—’

‘We had a blast!’ Carla burst out.

‘Yes, what a wonderful trip!’

‘Too much food and drink, though! You’ll need to get us back on the straight and narrow. Anyway, it’s good to be back.’

They both looked sincerely at Armand and his daughter.

‘And you? How are you doing, Armand, and little princess Juliette?’ Carla asked.

Armand told them that everything was fine.

‘Any exciting news? How is your family?’

‘Just give me a few moments to fix you some drinks and I’ll tell you,’ Armand replied, getting up and going to the kitchen.

Even if the kitchen still felt a little too clinical to him – more like a laboratory than a place to prepare food, owing to its cutting-edge designer style – Armand was more comfortable there since he’d humanised it with antique culinary equipment and jars of aromatic herbs. The first time he’d seen the kitchen in which he was to do much of his work he’d felt as out of place as poor Monsieur Hulot experimenting with the ultra-modern appliances in his sister’s kitchen in Mon Oncle. But, since Armand had brought his influence to bear, the kitchen looked and functioned much better, with a rather eclectic mix of styles that Rick and Carla found so chic.

Armand returned with a vegetable cocktail and a tray of mini blinis, and gave a brief account of his holiday. His mother and sister had come for a visit, which was a big event for them, since neither travelled frequently as they didn’t have much money and were continually busy with their small strawberry farm in Quebec. They’d really enjoyed New York – it was only their second visit – but who wouldn’t like this wonderful city, especially when they could stay with Armand in this huge, fabulous apartment on the Upper West Side?

‘How was Brenda’s dinner party? Did you meet anyone, er, interesting?’ Rick enquired.

Armand was perfectly aware that Rick and Carla wanted him to meet someone, but he also knew they would be devastated if he left them.

‘I’m saving that news for later,’ he told them. ‘I’d rather hear about your trip first.’

‘Yes, me too!’ Juliette added enthusiastically.

Rick and Carla loved it when Armand and Juliette showed an interest in their lives, which they themselves believed to be so exciting, though Armand actually found their lifestyle a bit too tiring for his taste, and Juliette, a young girl, was still easily impressed.

The couple didn’t really know where to start, and their story was a little jumbled and confused, but Armand and his daughter listened patiently.

How very relaxed and re-energised Rick and Carla look, Armand thought, gazing at the couple chatting effervescently, even if they’ve just spent seven hours on a plane. Since they flew business class on Hexagone Air it certainly ought to have been relaxing.

Suddenly Rick got up and turned to his wife.

‘Carla, why don’t we go have a quick shower? Then we’ll be ready for dinner.’

‘Sounds good to me!’ Looking at herself in the big mirror above the sofa, she added, ‘Oh, yes, I definitely need to freshen up.’

They disappeared to their gigantic, immaculate, elegantly tiled bathroom, giggling like teenagers.

Armand admired how happy the couple were. Even though he was only thirty-one, he was convinced he’d never be in such a beautiful relationship.

Armand had a high regard for the integrity of Rick and Carla’s affection. He had never seen anything like it, except in romantic films. Was it because they had met when they were in their early forties, and already knew a good deal about life? Did the fact that they didn’t have any children have something to do with it?

Love always looks more glamorous when you live in a big, beautiful apartment, and when you never have to think about money and trivial chores, reflected Armand cynically, while going back to the kitchen to prepare a delicious but healthy welcome-home dinner.

‘… And happy New Year!’

Exceptionally, Armand and Juliette were to have dinner with Rick and Carla in the dining room to celebrate their return. Armand laid the table with Carla’s best tableware, the dishes were inlaid with tricolour pearls and the cutlery was encrusted with semi-precious stones. It was a little too rococo for his taste, but Carla liked it.

Armand and Juliette usually had their dinner in the kitchen before Rick and Carla ate theirs after they’d come home from work.

Since they hadn’t seen each other for a couple of weeks, the evening’s discussion was to consist of:

l. More details about Rick and Carla’s exclusive luxury culinary and cultural tour, staying in an exclusive world-class hotel in Paris

2. All the new healthy food and drink Armand had discovered while they were away

3. Rick and Carla’s resolutions for this New Year

4. The week’s to-do list, starting tomorrow morning at six fifteen sharp – the toughest transition for Armand after two weeks of morning laziness

Rick and Carla sat down at the dining-room table, refreshed by their shower, still in a festive mood.

The dining room’s imposing baroque clock struck twice: it was only 4.30 p.m., but in view of Rick and Carla’s jet lag it seemed wise to have an early dinner.

‘Home sweet home,’ crooned Rick, kissing Juliette on her forehead.

The little girl sat in her place with the new Armande doll on a chair to her right. The happy couple were clearly ready for dinner as well. Armand went over to put on some music, which Rick and Carla always insisted on while they were eating. Armand was still in the mood for Suzanne Ciani’s relaxing piano notes.

‘Dinner smells divine!’ Carla enthused. ‘I’m starved!’

‘After everything we ate on the plane!’

‘It was very good, actually …’ she admitted.

Well, I hope so, since you were in business class, Armand thought but didn’t say.

‘… and I don’t know why, but I always have such a big appetite when I’m in the air!’ she added with that naivety that suited her so well.

I would too if I were being served champagne nonstop, and a gourmet meal, maybe with foie gras, Armand reflected a little enviously.

‘I’m sure I put on at least four pounds! Armand, I’m counting on you to help me regain my figure!’ she continued.

‘Of course! That means veggie cocktails and more stomach exercises!’ Armand smiled. Well, it is part of my job, isn’t it?

‘We ate very well most of the time, but we missed your cooking, Armand,’ Rick said, visibly enjoying the soup. ‘This is delicious – a new recipe?’

‘Sort of,’ Armand answered vaguely.

‘To be added to your book? Have you worked on it, since, after all, you have had some time off?’ Carla enquired.

‘Well, you know, with my mother and sister visiting …’

‘But they were only here for a week, weren’t they?’

Armand was not going to tell her that, besides spending time with Juliette, he had lounged in the most comfortable armchair in front of the fire, reading books, watching silly comedies, or – on a less agreeable note – just staring out of the window and dwelling on bitter memories from the past and worries for the future.

‘Leave him alone, Carla. Armand needed some time off,’ said Rick, winking at Armand, knowing full well what he’d been through. Rick, too, was writing a book – had been for almost ten years now – with the curious title of It’s Unfortunate that Socialism Will Never Flourish in America.

Carla thought that Armand’s book would be far more interesting than her husband’s because people would rather read and talk about good food and recipes than politics, especially nowadays.

‘I really love this soup!’ Rick repeated, trying to keep the subject away from books.

Armand appreciated Rick and Carla complimenting his cooking. He was always grateful for the praise, since, when he was growing up, his family had rarely had anything positive to say to him.

‘Wait until you see the dernier cri pieces I brought back from Paris,’ Carla told him. ‘They’ll give you some great material for your book. I also thought about a few titles on the plane. I couldn’t read, and the only movies were tiresome commercial ones.’

Rick and Armand exchanged glances: Carla would never change. When she had something on her mind it was hard to stop her. Why doesn’t she just write the book herself?

Suddenly Carla stood up, blew out all the candles except one, and turned the lights off. Juliette asked what was going on but Armand took her hand and told her not to be afraid. The melancholy piano music in the background added to the air of mystery.

But not for Rick, who was obviously in cahoots with Carla. He was chuckling quietly.

‘Go on eating, and describe your sensations,’ Carla ordered gently, her tone serious. ‘The aroma, the texture, the flavour of what you’re putting in your mouths.’

Armand found all this a little odd, even if he was used to the occasional eccentricities of the couple.

‘OK,’ Juliette replied, more relaxed now, and definitely more amused about this little game than her father.

Kids always think that life is fun, Armand mused. Why does that have to come to an end when one grows up? Although adulthood didn’t seem to have stopped the fun for Rick and Carla, who were constantly cheerful.

‘Of course, you know what ingredients are on your plate, Armand, but Rick, Juliette and I will try to guess what they are while we eat in the dark.’

The three of them in turn shared their observations about the soup.

After a few minutes Juliette grew tired of the game. She couldn’t identify all the ingredients, even though she did pretty well describing what she had on her plate. She whispered in her father’s ear that she wanted the lights turned back on.

Finally Armand told everyone what the ingredients were.

After a few ‘Oh, really?’ and ‘I knew it!’ the lights were back on and the candles relit.

‘You see, the most interesting meal we had on our Parisian trip was at the restaurant Sombre-Obscur, one of the restaurants branchés of the moment, where you basically eat in the dark,’ Rick explained.

‘Definitely a world-class restaurant!’ Carla added.

Armand didn’t really like these sorts of places. In his opinion they offered no atmosphere, besides having a similar corporate designer look, with no sense of conviviality – the way Rick and Carla’s kitchen had looked before Armand had added his human touch – and they all served the same kinds of dishes no matter where you were in the world: experimental cooking, overly complex preparations and bizarre mixtures of ingredients that in the end denatured the essence of the food. The prices were also completely over the top.

Armand would have preferred an intimate local family restaurant, colourful and welcoming, where the menu was made from what was available that morning at the market and the cuisine was as authentic as its clientele. Unfortunately these little eating places were becoming increasingly rare everywhere in the world.

‘And you’ll never guess what we had for dessert!’ Rick finished.

‘The most expensive dessert in the world!’ exclaimed Carla.

And, yes, it has to be expensive otherwise it can’t possibly be any good, Armand thought.

‘White truffle ice cream. Thirty euros a scoop!’ Rick informed them.

‘What? That’s forty-five dollars!’ shouted Armand.

‘That’s awfully expensive for white chocolate ice cream,’ said Juliette, her eyes wide with surprise.

Rick explained to her what white truffles were.

The little girl made a face. ‘Ice cream with mushrooms?’

‘Was it good, at least?’ Armand enquired.

‘It was, wasn’t it?’ Rick turned to Carla dubiously.

‘It was … er, yes, it definitely was.’

That wasn’t said with much conviction, Armand decided. It was apparent to him that Rick and Carla had simply played their preferred role of trendy connoisseurs because it was the wealthy people’s thing to do, not because it was enjoyable.

Rick and Carla continued raving about Sombre-Obscur, where customers were supposedly able to develop their sense of taste and smell, and experience brand-new and exciting sensations while eating.

‘It was a bit tricky to eat and drink neatly at times, but we truly could taste our food like we never have before. It was worth a try, wasn’t it?’

‘It was. Er, it definitely was.’

‘You spent the whole meal in total darkness?’ Juliette asked, somewhat astounded.

Welcome to the odd world of adults, Armand was tempted to whisper in his daughter’s ear.

‘Just a few candles on the walls of the restaurant, that’s all,’ Carla explained.

‘That seems a little creepy, doesn’t it?’ Juliette stared at her father with her big hazel eyes.

‘It was very romantic, actually!’ Carla replied, glancing languorously at Rick.

Romantic, my foot! Armand decided it was a silly idea because a big part of the delight in enjoying food is to see what you’re eating. If you want to taste what you have in your mouth without seeing the food, then close your eyes! This so-called innovative cuisine that mixes anything and everything together with no logic – no, thanks! And watching your companion enjoying food is also delicious … if indeed one has someone with whom you can share such pleasure …

‘I wonder if such a restaurant would work in New York?’ asked Rick, cutting short Armand’s thoughts.

‘Why not?’ Carla replied.

‘Because we Americans aren’t used to spending a long time sitting at a table smelling, tasting, sensing the food. Remember how long the dinner was? No, people definitely don’t have the time here,’ Rick concluded firmly.

‘But people like us do, don’t they?’ remarked Carla. She wanted to believe that she and Rick had healthier eating habits these days, and that they lived better than their friends and acquaintances.

Armand brought in the main course and a salad.

‘Ah, how thoughtful of you!’ exclaimed Rick and Carla together, smiling appreciatively. ‘For dessert, did you also make …?’

‘Wait and see,’ Armand answered, winking.

‘I made the salad, and I put some colours into it!’ Juliette informed them proudly.

‘Like you always do in your pretty drawings.’ Carla smiled fondly, being full of admiration for the little girl. She had felt attached to her since the day they met. ‘It’s beautiful! Artistic talent definitely runs in the family.’

‘Talking about talent,’ said Rick as he took a generous portion of the Divine Meat Pie, ‘the afternoon we spent at the international Art in Food exhibition was simply fabulous.’

‘All the works of art were made of food,’ Carla explained.

‘Really, really?’ Juliette opened her eyes even wider.

‘Oh, yes. There were miniature Christmas trees made of spinach meringues.’

‘And they even had a fashion show with …’

‘… a dress made of various shades of pasta …’

‘… with jewellery made of dried fruit and beans, and hats made of bread.’

Rick and Carla continued with ever more extravagant descriptions. Juliette looked at the two of them as if they were aliens from the planet Food.

Armand was sure that his daughter was already thinking about the pictures she’d draw from all this.

I personally prefer the kind of culinary art that stands on a plate in order to delight by being eaten, and that satisfies the eyes and the taste buds. All this seems a little wasteful when you think about the many people who are starving in the world. But, once more, Armand kept his thoughts to himself.

‘And the Petit Palais had a special exhibition of still lifes: La table des peintres. Totally first-rate!’ said Rick.

‘I would have liked that. Wouldn’t you, Papa?’ asked the budding artist.

But Armand didn’t have a chance to reply.

‘Some of the paintings looked so incredibly real,’ Carla added, ‘that I felt like I wanted to plunge into them. I imagined myself sitting at the table wearing an elegant period dress, tasting the foods and drinks that were represented so beautifully, and being exhilarated by all the sensations of an idyllic vanished era.’

A silence ensued. Everyone was struck by Carla’s images from the past, when people took time to eat, and enjoyed the company of their friends and families, and the outdoors, with a kind of simple nonchalance.

It was time for dessert. Armand opened a small bottle of champagne and poured a few sparkling drops into his daughter’s glass.

‘I see you also thought of the Winter Fruit Delight! Thank you, Armand!’ exclaimed Rick and Carla.

‘To a New Year full of good meals!’

‘And healthy habits!’

‘C’est si bon, si bon si bon’, crooned Rick.

After dessert, Juliette was ready to go to her room with the Armande doll and her new French book. She said good night to them all after making them promise that they would tell her all about their New Year’s resolutions the next day.

When Juliette had gone to bed, Rick and Carla gave Armand their first gift. They never failed to bring him and his daughter a few presents whenever they went on their travels. Armand wondered if they felt sorry for him because he couldn’t afford trips like theirs. Not that he was at all interested in luxury travel – he personally thought it a bit superficial – though he did sometimes wish that he could see more of the world. But at least New York had a lot to offer.

The first gift was a thick book about La table des peintres exhibition, which Rick and Carla began praising for a second time.

Looking at them, Armand realised once again that he had never seen a couple get along so well: two married people who spent so much time together at the table, appreciating almost any kind of food, and constantly talking to each other. When he was with them he often felt as if he were part of the audience at a long and cheerful romantic play.

That made him think about Liana …

The way Rick and Carla had met was a good omen. ‘Impress me with a meal you’ve cooked and I’ll date you’ was a new concept in dating. The gathering of single people took place at a renowned and upmarket cookery school. The participants needed to know how to cook, at least a little bit. There was a pre-selection of fifteen women and fifteen men. Each participant was asked to cook his or her favourite dish, and then display it alongside everyone else’s on a long buffet table. Then everyone was invited to taste the dishes that appeared the most appetising. Carla literally fell in love with Rick’s Winter Fruit Delight, and Rick with Carla’s Divine Meat Pie. They found a little table for two away from the others and stayed until someone politely informed them that it was closing time and they were the only ones left.

Back to the reality of their hectic daily routine, Rick and Carla had had to face the fact that they didn’t have time to prepare and enjoy the kind of meals they both loved because of their long working hours. Being extremely career-oriented, they spent their whole day working, eating only when they could spare a few moments. They were usually too tired to cook when they got home in the evenings: she, back from her law office; he, from the hospital.

The new couple needed to find a solution in order to be completely happy. They were desperately searching for the answer when a colleague of Rick’s told him about the Art de Vivre show that was coming up.

Armand was exhibiting at the show, trying to sell his services as a good-and-healthy-life coach, his slogan being ‘Too Busy to Cook? I Have the Solution!’ Not that Armand was all that motivated by the idea at the time, but he was anxious to find a job, and he liked cooking. Why not, after all? Especially since he wanted a new start after Han’s flight, and he was tired of selling holiday timeshares to people who didn’t really want them.

Carla and Rick had hired him immediately: it was so fashionable to have a good-and-healthy-life coach, and a live-in one as well. This had suited Armand because he’d also needed a decent place to live for himself and Juliette, who was just a toddler then. Being Quebecois had been in his favour, Rick and Carla would later reveal, as they found his French heritage appealing.

The couple now flew to Quebec City at least twice a year, ‘for the remarkable food experience and romanticism without the jet lag’, as they put it.

Since then, Rick and Carla had been eternally grateful to Armand, who had helped them lead more stable and less stressful lives. He did the shopping, cooked balanced and tasty meals, supervised their workouts in their gym room, and organised their social events.

Armand liked his job. An unusual kind of friendship had developed between him and his employers, plus he lived in a luxurious home – even if he found the furniture too modern and the many decorative objects a little too gaudy for his own taste.

‘The Tendance show at the Grande Épicerie was also a lot of fun! So many trendy and sophisticated groceries!’ said Carla, giving Armand a slender, elegant blue glass bottle with a white moon on it.

He examined the label and discovered the contents promised much.

After Armand had thanked them for all their gifts, he brought out a few of the food selections he had made. Another part of his job was trying to find the most fashionable, the healthiest and sometimes the most extraordinary food and drink: this was, after all, the height of good taste for Rick and Carla. They then went on to impress their friends and colleagues with Armand’s discoveries.

‘First, I came across some new tonic drinks from Africa made of hibiscus and baobab. They are supposed to be full of vitamin C.’

‘Oooooh!’ Rick and Carla said in unison.

‘And here is a Brazilian rainforest superberry drink full of natural antioxidants, and Tepee Tea prepared by Native Americans, plus two tickets for the Salad Fashion Show, which will be held at Grand Central Terminal in April …’

Rick and Carla examined the various items with keen interest, carefully reading through the exhaustive lists of ingredients.

Armand drew their attention. ‘Now, it is New Year’s resolutions time. You asked me to help you with your list, didn’t you?’

‘Indeed we did, Armand.’

Rick and Carla each took a pen and a slip of paper, as eager as two students that had returned to school after a long summer off. They began writing while Armand went to the kitchen to put the kettle on for their comforting evening drink: mint and liquorice herbal tea imported from France.

Tired but still in a positive mood, Rick and Carla had gone to bed early since they both had to be at work the following morning. Armand cleared the table, put everything into the dishwasher and finished tidying the kitchen, which he liked to be spotless every night before he himself retired.

He checked to see if Juliette was asleep. She was. She seemed to be at peace in her dreams, her new doll, Armande, at her side.

Armand went into his room and looked at the empty bed, just as he did every night. The sight of the lonely bed set him thinking.

What kind of life do I really have here? Am I only a servant, after all? That was what his mother had once told him he was.

‘Not a servant, a mentor. You’re a new version of Jeeves for the new millennium; you’re totally indispensable to Rick and Carla. That’s rather chic, you know,’ his friend Tom had told him, to make up for Armand’s mother’s mean comments.

It was true that Armand lived in a lovely home, in a good neighbourhood, in a great city. His little Juliette had a beautiful room and she lived contentedly. They both ate superbly every day. Carla and Rick were good for them.

When Han had shared his bed, there had been no peace and not much fun. They’d argued most of the time. The unwanted pregnancy only worsened the situation. Han had left the hospital the day after Juliette was born. Armand had heard she’d gone back to Taiwan, leaving him here, a father all by himself. He hadn’t even tried to find Han in her own country. How could he trust her – or anyone else – after what she’d done to him?

Armand’s mobile phone was ringing: Unknown caller.

‘Hello, Armand? Hi, it’s Liana. We met at Brenda’s …’

Women nowadays do take the initiative, don’t they?

The sweet memory of their evening together was coming back to him.

‘Yes, I remember. Brenda told me you asked for my number. How are you?’

‘Fine, thank you. And you?’

As they started to chat they resumed the subtle flirtation they’d begun at Brenda’s dinner party, even if there was no food and champagne to savour along with it.

‘Tell me more about your job. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing.’

‘Neither had I before Tom, the friend I was staying with at the time, told me about this new trend of having a good-and-healthy-life coach. He said that a job like that could get me out of my difficult situation.’

‘And with your knowledge of savoir-vivre, your logic and your cooking you could be very good at it,’ Tom had encouraged.

‘I was talked into it, even though I wasn’t overly convinced it would work. But then what did I have to lose?’

‘So you’re a good-and-healthy-life coach! I hope you’ll cook something for me one of these days. Actually, I like to cook as well …’

They began talking about their favourite dishes.

‘I find that sharing a meal with someone you, er, appreciate can be very comforting, very sensual,’ Liana revealed.

Armand agreed, remembering the New Year’s Eve dinner. He also thought how well sharing an interest in food had worked out for Rick and Carla.

Then Armand told Liana about Rick and Carla’s luxury trip.

‘Well, I’ve never heard of luxury culinary tourism before,’ commented Liana. ‘Of course, I couldn’t possibly afford them on my salary. With such a high standard of living, being able to afford a live-in genius like you, exclusive culinary trips, I suppose that Rick and Carla are loaded?’

‘Pretty much. Great careers – and no kids.’

‘Who would want kids with a lifestyle like that? Kids cost so much these days, and they’re so annoying!’ Liana laughed in a way that Armand didn’t appreciate.

Getting no reply, she continued, ‘You mentioned that you were in a difficult situation before you met Rick and Carla.’

The conversation had definitely lost its carefree tone.

Armand then told her about Han.

‘That’s awful! I’m so sorry to hear that.’

‘I’m fine now,’ Armand said, more confidently than he expected.

Liana supposed that he must have a poor opinion of women after what had happened to him, but she tried to put that from her mind.

‘So, you have a child!’ she declared.

Silence.

‘Why didn’t you tell me at the dinner party?’

‘Would you have called me then? Especially now that I know what you think of kids.’

When Liana hesitated, Armand left her no more time to answer.

‘My daughter wasn’t planned, but I really love her and I have to be responsible for her. It’s not her fault if she has brainless parents. I want to be the best father I can for her. People aren’t able to imagine how wonderful a child can be until they have one themselves.’

‘Possibly …’ Liana said without much conviction.

‘Oh, it wasn’t easy at all being on my own, with no money. Anyway, Juliette is here now, and I like my situation with Rick and Carla.’

‘I don’t blame you.’

Armand had a feeling that Liana was probably less interested in him now.

‘Well, listen, I’ll see how busy my week ends up being and I’ll call you,’ she announced, confirming this.

Armand could sense the disappointment in her voice and he was annoyed, not because Liana might not be interested in him any more but because she didn’t have the courage to tell him straight out it was because he was a father.

‘If the fact that I’ve got a child bothers you, you should tell me right away,’ he said coldly.

‘I don’t know, Armand. Up to now I’ve never even thought of dating someone who has a child. It’s too bad because I really like you even if I don’t know you very well. We appeared to be on the same wavelength over so much. The moments we shared at Brenda’s were delicious.’

‘I feel the same. But things seem to be a little different now, don’t they?’

‘My sister has been so indifferent to everyone since she thinks she created the Eighth Wonders of the World. And my nephews are such brats that I don’t really have a very good experience of kids, you know.’

‘But my Juliette is pretty well behaved.’

‘I’m sure she is, and with such a beautiful name … er, she can only be a good girl, can’t she? And, er, with such a nice father …’

After a little pause, Liana continued, ‘I may call you again, Armand. I just don’t know right now.’

‘Fine, I understand.’

‘Have a good night, Armand.’

‘Good night, Liana.’

They hung up, each disappointed, not knowing what would happen next. But the special evening they’d spent together would remain engraved on their memories.

Armand looked at the gifts Rick and Carla had brought him. Then he went to the window. The sky had cleared and there was a striking full moon. He opened the blue flask of Eau de Lune, which was bottled under a full moon in the Alps, and was supposed to make your wishes come true if drunk on a moonlit night. After his conversation with Liana, Armand suddenly felt thirsty. He drank a glass of Eau de Lune and made a wish; he could be superstitious at times, after all, like his mother.

Afterwards he opened the bottle of cognac, for a last little treat before going to bed, and thought about what he had wished for. Armand’s New Year’s resolution was definitely going to be to make sure he and Juliette continued along their paths to happiness.