‘Busy?’ He gestures to the radio, to my outfit and the dance party for one he had interrupted. ‘Sure you are.’ He smirks into the floorboards just as there is movement from the back of the room. We both look up, startled, as a man in his boxers walks from the bedroom into the lounge. I stand there aghast watching both men take in the situation. Archie’s eyes fall on Florian, confusion rippling through his features. It’s almost the same look on Florian’s face mixed in with something a little edgier.
‘Hi?’ Archie greets him warily, skimming around the apartment to my side. His hand reaches around my waist and rests on my hip. I look at Florian whose eyes fixate on the connection, the familiarity.
‘This is Ettie’s brother, Florian,’ I fill Archie in.
‘Oh!’ He holds a hand out to Florian who looks at it a little cautiously before taking it and is then shaken vigorously by Archie. ‘Sorry, mate, you’re not what I expected.’
‘Sorry to disappoint.’
‘Not at all. As you can probably tell we weren’t expecting visitors, would have maybe put some clothes on,’ he laughs, gesturing to the both of us. Archie doesn’t care about the fact that he’s in his boxers; I mean he doesn’t exactly have anything to worry about on that score anyway but he does hover over me, making me feel a little more exposed than before.
‘I was just popping by, but I’ll leave you to it.’
‘Florian was inviting me to the river tomorrow, but I said we were busy.’
‘We can go,’ Archie says casually and reaches for the coffee cup on the side.
I pivot. ‘What?’
Archie shrugs. ‘Not like we have plans and it’s meant to be hot, isn’t it? I mean, if you don’t mind me tagging along?’
Florian doesn’t look as alarmed as he should, instead he manages to play it off coolly. ‘Uh, no sure.’
‘Didn’t bring any trunks though.’ Archie grins widely.
‘You’ll be fine in those,’ Florian gestures to Archie’s boxers. ‘Although Ava might need to bring something else.’
‘Yes, thank you,’ I snap at him, but Florian’s lips have curled up in a little grin at his own comment. It quickly vanishes when he looks back to Archie, perhaps realising what he has just agreed to.
‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eleven.’ He turns to go. ‘Nice to meet you…’
‘Archie,’ Archie fills in the gap.
‘Archie,’ Florian confirms and then leaves.
Chapter 20
When Florian comes tocollect us, half an hour later than planned, the waitress from Fromages et Vins is sitting in the passenger seat. I stall a little, wondering if I’ve missed something, whether their arrangement was something more than I had assumed.
‘Hi.’ I try to hide the tone of surprise from my voice when I reach the car with Florian and the pretty blonde girl deep in conversation.
‘Bonjour!’ She beams at us.
‘Ava, you’ve met Inés before, haven’t you?’ Florian gestures to her with a little flourish.
‘Briefly.’ I manage a strained smile. ‘Hi.’ I kiss her cheeks as she gets out of the car to let Archie and me in the back.
‘We’re only there for the afternoon,’ Florian says curtly as Archie heaves half the contents of our fridge into the boot.
‘Well,be preparedand all that,’ Archie beams, clambering into the back of the Citroën. When I slot myself in the seat next to him, his hand reaches for mine in a lovely, automatic sort of way. I thread my fingers through his and notice him looking at my wedding band. It’s caught his eye before even though I know he would be mortified if I called him out on it. I understand his curiosity about whether it’s going to be a permanent feature on my hand. It’s a question even I don’t know the answer to yet.
The drive is as uncomfortable as I had anticipated. The only one daring to ask questions is Inés, who points out features on the drive that Archie might find interesting. She is sweet, chatty, a kind of human personification of sunshine, and therefore the complete opposite of who I imagined Florian to be into.
He doesn’t make polite conversation. I can see the profile of his face occasionally in the rear-view mirror. He is rigid, his jaw clenched, hands clasping onto the steering wheel until he looks up, catches me staring. I don’t look away. If he wants me to feel bad about bringing Archie here, then I won’t. His forehead ruches, his hands slacken and then the car wavers slightly. Inés makes a protest in French and the car straightens. Florian’s eyes drift back to the road without uttering an apology and I take my win.
When we reach the town of Castelmoron-sur-Lot, with its artificial beach on the river, it feels like a relief for all involved. Florian parks the car under a cement bridge in the shade. He and Inés have packed lightly in comparison to us: a small canvas tote between them with a towel each and a packet of cigarettes, and it makes me feel like a complete tourist. We find a spot, semi-shaded and slightly away from the melee of screaming children and overconfident teens launching themselves off the diving board. Florian takes his towel from his bag and slumps himself down on top of it, immediately reaching for a cigarette whilst Archie busies himself with wrestling a picnic blanket into submission. Inés and I stand there for a moment then she strips into her bikini, her body slim and toned with actual abs. I decide against taking off my shirt and instead shed the rucksack and grab four beers. Florian gestures for me to pass them over and swiftly beheads the caps with his lighter.
‘There you go.’ Archie presents the blanket as if it’s something much more than it is, but I sit on it appreciatively, passing him his beer.
