SABINE
Dinner with Owen after the opening night of the exhibition was, Sabine had to admit, rather wonderful. And full of surprises.
The first surprise came as they arrived. Owen was greeted warmly and told his favourite table had been reserved for him. Of all the restaurants in town, she’d never have guessed he was a regular at this particular, expensive, one.
‘Favourite table?’ she looked at him and mouthed.
‘The new chef’s a friend,’ he shrugged. Besides, you know how much I like French food.’
Sabine nodded, remembering the times in the past she’d cooked Provençal daube or coq au vin for Dave and inevitably Owen had shown up around dinnertime. In the years since Dave’s death, she’d invited Owen to share similar dishes with her and Peter more times than she could count.
Sipping a champagne cocktail, waiting for their starters to arrive, she sighed happily. ‘I suspect tomorrow will see me brought down to earth with a bump, but I have to say this evening has been one of the best times of my life.’
‘No-one deserves it more,’ Owen said. ‘Tristan is likely to exhibit your work regularly now, do you think?’ Owen asked. ‘He’s certainly made a profit on tonight’s show, if all the red stickers are anything to go by.’
Sabine smiled happily. ‘He did mention something about another exhibition maybe around Christmas time.’
‘Did you tell him you’ll be travelling then? So maybe a later date would be better,’ Owen said, looking at her intently.
Carefully Sabine put her glass down on the table. ‘Owen. I’m sorry but, as I keep telling you, there is no way I’m going travelling this year – or any other year come to that. It’s just not on.’
‘Why not? You’ve said you’d like to see more places. Mexico. India. America. Might give you some fresh inspiration for your paintings.’
Sabine nodded. ‘Possibly, but like many things in my life, I’ve left it too late. If I go anywhere, it will be a week somewhere in Europe at the most. Nothing that remotely resembles your plans.’
‘Trust me, Sabine – it’s never too late to change things. Of course, you have to want to.’
Sabine picked up her wine glass and took a sip. ‘Please, could we not argue tonight?’
‘Sorry,’ Owen said. ‘Consider the subject changed, but be warned I shall return to it another day. Now …’ He paused while the waitress placed their starters in front of them. ‘Thanks.’
‘I need to talk to Peter soon and tell him what I’ve arranged with the business. Where and what time would suit you?’
‘You want me there?’ Sabine said, surprised. ‘It’s your business. I don’t have anything to do with it.’
Owen looked at her. ‘Sabine, you know the business wouldn’t be the same without your “gift of the gab”.’
Sabine laughed. ‘Maybe, but it’s yours to give to Peter not mine.’
‘I want us to do it together,’ Owen said. ‘So when? Where? Shall I book a table here? Or somewhere else?’
‘Why not do it at my place? I’ll can cook something special. Something French.’
‘Okay. It’s neap tides next week so no evening river trips. Wednesday would be good for me.’
Sabine shook her head. ‘No can do. Johnnie’s asking this Rachel woman to supper that night for the two of us to meet. No way am I cancelling. I need to meet this superwoman who has arrived in my brother’s life. How about Friday?’
‘Friday evening it is. Johnnie seems to be revelling in his new role,’ Owen said. ‘Saw him the other morning happily pushing Carla around town.’
Sabine smiled. ‘In typical Johnnie fashion, he’s thrown himself completely into doing the single father thing. Reckons he can stay at home until she’s two before his savings run out. After that,’ she shrugged. ‘No idea what he’ll do then. Long deliveries will be out, that’s for sure.’
‘He can always come and skipper one of our boats on a freelance basis if he needs work,’ Owen said. ‘Next time I see him, I’ll let him know the job is there if he wants it anytime.’