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Luca:Yes?
Me:In person. Where are you?
Luca:Out for a while.
I suddenly felt overwhelmed with exhaustion. George and Pippa, Fern, Luca, Genevieve. It had all been too much for one day and I needed some sleep. I went downstairs and walked past the kitchen, where Xavier was chopping up a pineapple.
‘Still here?’ I said, spying the two cheesecakes on the side. I could just chuck Fern’s berry dream in the bin and carry on regardless. Luca wouldn’t be any the wiser.
‘Pineapple practice,’ Xavier said, sculpting a perfectly proportioned star from the centre and holding it aloft.
‘That is amazing,’ I said, truly impressed.
‘Very useful too,’ he said, ‘you never know when you might need to whittle a shape out of a fruit.
‘So true,’ I said. ‘Can you make me something out of this?’ I handed him a banana from the fruit bowl, which he eyed with caution.
‘It’s just pineapples today,’ he said, putting it back. His arms were looking strong through his chef’s whites, his floppy, auburn hair in his eyes.
‘Am I a total idiot?’ I asked, embarrassed. ‘Is it a French thing?’ I wondered at Genevieve’s suggestion that Xavier’s marriage might also be open to offers.
‘Non.Luca likes to play games,’ he said, staring at me. ‘He’s the total idiot.’
‘He is what?’ called a voice from the stairs. Luca’s voice.
I picked up Fern’s cake and lifted the lid.
‘I thought you were out for a while?’ I called as I walked out of the kitchen.
‘I was. And now I’m back,’ he said with a cheeky smile. He’d obviously had a few drinks and was struggling to navigate the stairs. He eventually gave up and sat down on the bottom step, his head in his hands.
‘I picked something up for you from Rachael’s,’ I said, lowering the cheesecake to his face so he could read the message.
‘You didn’t have to do that,’ he said, looking visibly touched. I followed his eyes and watched them change.
‘I wish I hadn’t,’ I replied. ‘It’s not from me.’
‘I can see,’ Luca said, putting his head back in his hands.
‘It’s from Fern. Who I’m guessing isn’t your auntie?’
He shook his head in his hands, then looked up in irritation.
‘You shouldn’t have opened my private gift.’
‘I think you’re missing the point. And I didn’t open your private gift, I just brought it back to the chalet.’
‘Well, someone did. The cheesecake was for me. Who opened it?’
‘I did,’ Xavier poked his head around the kitchen door, right on cue. ‘Pardon, I thought it was the dessert I ordered.’ He gave Luca a faux-apologetic look with prayer hands, before retreating back into the kitchen.
‘So, you’re engaged?’ I asked.
He waved his hand as if swatting away an imaginary fly. ‘I’m always engaged to someone. It doesn’t mean anything,’ he slurred.
‘Then what have you been doing with me?’ I asked, dreading the answer.
‘I am French,’ he said shrugging. ‘We do things differently to you English.’
