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I stared at him for a few seconds, trying to understand what he meant.
‘These lights are on the same circuit as the wine fridge and the dishwasher,’ he said, pointing to the string of lights that lit the kitchen counter.
‘Yes, I switched them off on my way to bed last night. I was worried about the heat on the meringues that were cooling.’
Xavier nodded. ‘That’ll be what’s happened then. We have to keep those lights on 24/7. I’m so sorry Holly, that’s my fault, I should have told you as part of the kitchen briefing. There isn’t time now to get this bottle chilled and serve it with the main course.’
‘I’ll work something out,’ I said, grabbing the brioche and jam and legging it up the stairs. I skidded at the top and crashed head-first into Luca.
‘Hey, hey, hey… is there a fire?’ he said, looking down at his shirt, where the jam had conveniently landed.
‘Oh no, I’m so sorry,’ I said, handing him the basket and grabbing the tea towel tucked in the back of my apron to wipe it off. Luca was defenceless against me cleaning him and frustratingly, the tea towel had a scrap of terrine on the spot I’d decided to use. Luca watched in horror as I smeared meaty paste on top of jam on his beautifully tailored shirt.
‘Do you want to stick a piece of toast on there while you’re at it?’ he asked.
‘Oh my God, I’m SO sorry, you must think I’m a total idiot. Why don’t you take it off and I’ll put it in the wash? Liv’s downstairs, I can ask her to soak it.’
Luca gave me a look. His dark eyes were a mixture of annoyed and bemused. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ve got hundreds of shirts,’ he said, slowly unbuttoning this one to reveal a perfect six pack – or was it an eight pack? A multipack.
Genevieve chose that moment to walk down the stairs.
‘What is going on?’ she gasped. ‘Luca, put your shirt back on immediately.’
He laughed and ran past her, appearing seconds later in a fresh shirt. He was still pressing the studs together as he walked down the stairs.
‘Shouldn’t you put that jam where it won’t do any more damage?’ he said.
‘Yes of course, apologies Luca, I mean Mr Blanchet,monsieur. I’m so sorry,’ I said in a fumble.
I went into the dining room, where I’d laid the table earlier. The cutlery was polished to gleaming and my glassware was shining and ready to go. I placed the basket of brioche next to the jam on the table and lit the candles that were dotted around the room. It was the perfect setting. If only there was some wine. Genevieve was sitting in the lounge with the newly dressed Luca.
‘Can I get either of you an aperitif?’ I asked.
‘Champagne for me, darling,’ Genevieve replied.
Luca nodded in agreement.
I popped the cork on a bottle of vintage Moët to kick the night off.
‘And what wines are we having with our dinner tonight?’ Luca enquired.
‘Welllll,’ I said, quickly, panic-thinking, ‘erm… for the wine this evening, we haaave Champagne as requested with the lamb terrine starter.’
Genevieve and Luca stared at me, barely blinking.
‘And thennn to accompany your main course of Bouillabaisse, which is a traditional Provençal fish stew…’ Think, think, think. My mind flicked back to the bottle of wine David gave me earlier. Yes, that would be perfect. ‘We have a Sicilian Fiano.’
‘…which will pair perfectly with the fish,’ Xavier interjected, appearing in the doorway with a lopsided grin. ‘We have a delicious menu prepared for you which will be ready in around five minutes.’
‘Thank you, Xavier, that sounds perfect.’ Genevieve toyed with the long, gold pendant around her neck and smiled. Then turning her attention back to me, ‘Excellent choice, Holly; I adore Fiano.’
I smiled, backing out of the dining room and serenely closed the doors, legging it downstairs with Xavier as soon as we were out of sight. ‘Good thinking,’ he said as I ran back to the bedroom and retrieved the Fiano from our window-ledge-fridge where it was nestling in the snow among Liv’s fresh juice and vodka selection.
‘Everything OK?’ she asked, still reading in bed.
‘So far, so good,’ I said relieved, kissing her sweaty head and running back upstairs. Genevieve and Luca were quaffing their Champagne and laughing together as I ran back down to the kitchen to get their starters. This was WAY more running than I was expecting.
Xavier had both plates under a closh, which he whisked away as I went in.
