Florian shrugs. ‘I don’t mind getting it, I mean it’s only around the corner.’
‘You’re sure?’ Archie asks, not wanting to look like a bad host for sending his guest off into the night.
‘Yeah, it’s fine. Ava can keep me company.’ I look around to see if there’s someone else here called Ava, maybe he got Inés’s name wrong? But Florian’s eyes are fixed on me.
‘Me?’
‘Thought you might want to see it again, without other people there.’
‘Oh… I don’t…’ I look at Archie who is looking slightly paler than he has done all evening.
‘You should go, Ava,’ Inés says softly.
‘Yeah.’ Archie’s voice sounds strained. ‘Yeah, you should go.’
Florian is already grabbing his coat and making his way out of the apartment.
‘I shouldn’t…’ I step towards Archie. He slackens.
‘Go on, it’ll do you good to see it again, besides…’ he leans into me, ‘think of the book.’ He presses a kiss into my cheek and jettisons me out of the apartment, leaving me tripping down the stairs after Florian.
Chapter 22
Florian swings the keysin his palm. For a while it’s the only sound that disturbs the peace of the Bastide. It’s late and this place has fallen into its nightly hibernation. The supermarket’s closed, the cafés have all closed, even the tabac is closed, and the only signs of life come from the occasional light emanating from a sporadic window.
‘What book?’ Florian asks as we turn the first corner.
‘Sorry?’
‘Archie, he said something about a book?’
‘Oh.’ It comes out as a squeak. ‘I think it’s just something from some self-help book he read, about saying yes to things,’ I shrug, wondering if it sounds as transparent as it feels, but I refuse to get into this conversation now so instead I add it to the long list of things that I should probably address with my brother-in-law when we are on more neutral, comfortable territory.
‘He’s a nice guy.’
I nod enthusiastically. ‘Yeah, he is.’
‘Good cook too.’
‘Glad you thought so, he put in a lot of effort, think he wanted to impress you.’
‘Dresses well, amazing career…’ I feel the conversation souring.
I stop walking, cross my arms in front of my body. ‘Your point?’
He stops too, a little ahead of me, holds up his hands. ‘No point, I’m just saying he’s a very solid guy.’
‘Okay.’ I carry on until we’re next to each other again. We turn off the main street into the square and I can see the café in the far corner. ‘Well, I’m glad you approve.’
‘Oh, I don’t.’ He sort of laughs it out, a mean little snigger. I feel myself squirm under the comment.
‘You don’t approve of him?’ I repeat as if I might have possibly misheard him, but he just shrugs.
‘I approve of him, just not with you. Not that it matters of course.’ He shrugs it away as if it’s nothing, as if his words are just these simple little things that won’t send me spiralling down some plughole of doubt and panic and pure fury. The café is a few feet away and we are forced to stand there as he pulls back the shutters, revealing the front door with its curtain drawn down and the closed sign hanging at an angle.
‘Well, why? And you’re right it doesn’t matter, but why? What’s wrong with him?’
He doesn’t look at me, just starts passing the keys through his fingers until he finds the right one. ‘I don’t know.’
