‘Madame, monsieur!’ he says, beaming with a very un-French-like level of enthusiasm.
Sarah and I stand, her reaching for her crutch to support herself, and I see Antoine notice. His handsome brow creases. His eyes are a deep, bottomless brown and framed with lashes that no human should have naturally. ‘But you are hurt, madame,’ he says, all concern.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Non, madame, you are not fine.’ He shakes his head with a look of grave concern.
Now you’re for it!I think, waiting for Sarah to bite back and tell him to stop patronising her or something. But when I glance at her, her shoulders are slumped, her head drooping a little.
‘Let me help,’ Antoine says. ‘Please, sit.’
She sits obediently. I find myself plonking my arse back into the seat next to her; not wanting to be left out I suppose. Antoine marches purposefully to the door and disappears, and we’re left in silence.
‘Sorry about this,’ I tell her, for no reason at all.
‘What for? My leg? Or the fact that the hot guide wants to help me?’
‘Hot?’ I ask, and she grins.
‘Hot enough to make me much more interested in birds than I was ten minutes ago.’
I feel a strange prickling sensation and a sudden and spectacularly unfair hatred for Antoine with his easy smile, tanned legs, and T-shirt that sets off his skin tone. And how come he seems to have calf muscles when I’ve never been able to build mine? Before I can say anything, the door opens again and he’s back, brandishing at us, like a trophy, a set of keys on the end of a perfectly manicured finger. ‘Got it!’ he says.
Itturns out to be the use of one of the park’s golf carts, usually a no-no for visitors but released to Antoine no doubt due to his pretty privilege. He proceeds to offer a sturdy arm to Sarah, who leans on it like some helpless damsel in distress as he helps her into the passenger seat.
And I can see where this is going. I’m going to be in the back, aren’t I? Like some sort of overgrown child out with his gorgeous mother and father. ‘Can I drive?’ I ask, but both Antoine and Sarah shoot me a look.
‘I’m afraid our insurance wouldn’t allow it,’ Antoine replies sadly, shaking his head as if – were it in his power – he’d hand over the keys in an instant. I look at him, steadily, and he darts his eyes away and I know, through some unwritten man code, exactly what his intentions are.
And if I needed any confirmation, it comes seconds later as I’m settling myself into the back seat which faces the other way from theirs, and reassuring myself that I’m actually in a pretty good position to photograph birds, which is what I’m here for in the first place.
‘Do you and your husband often go to bird parks?’ he asks.
‘Oh!’ Sarah answers with a flirty giggle. ‘He’s not my husband.’
‘Your brother?’
‘No, just a friend.’
The father of your child,I think sullenly to myself, although why I’d want her to describe me in those terms I have no idea.
‘Oh, I see,’ he says, giving her a wink. ‘Then he is a very lucky friend.’
Oh, do fuck off, I don’t say.
We bump off along one of the half-gravelled walkways, with Antoine keeping up a steady stream of conversation with Sarah, a conversation that I’m only included in as an afterthought. Where he grew up, why he loves birds, what brought him to Marquenterre, blah blah blah.
‘Don’t you think? Hal? Hal?’ Sarah’s voice breaks through and I jump.
‘Oh. Yes. Sure. Absolutely,’ I say, with no idea about what I’ve just agreed to. Probably that she and Antoine should spend the night having passionate sex or run off into the sunset together.And why would that bother me?
Despite having doubts as to whether I want to see Georgie again, I get out my phone and scroll through my messages, perhaps to remind Sarah that I also have romantic options. ‘How’s it going?’ I type and send. The tick turns blue, confirming receipt, but nothing is forthcoming. ‘I’m in a bird sanctuary!’ I add, rather desperately. But when this fails to pique her interest, I shove the phone back into my shorts miserably.
‘Look! Over there! A little ringed plover,’Antoine shout-whispers excitedly, pulling the golf cart to a stop. Sure enough, there’s a little speckled bird with an enormous bill standing on the edge of the water, regarding us with its bright yellow eye. ‘And beyond in the tree, the nests!’
I quickly take a snap.
But this is not enough for Antoine who is helping Sarah from the cart. He then reaches under his seat and pulls out a sizeable telescope and, afterwards, a small, folded canvas chair. He sets both up by a fence close to the water, then gallantly holds Sarah’sarm as she hop-walks over the scraggy grass and lowers herself into the chair. Antoine begins to adjust the telescope so that Sarah can use it from a seated position and it occurs to me that if I were to disappear right now, it might be hours before anyone noticed.
