It was late when the guests returned to La Maison du Paradis. Buzzing with the day’s excitement, instead of heading to their rooms, everyone gathered in the salon. With relief for their safety, Angelique arranged that Daniel and Tomas would prepare a meal for anyone who felt up to it.
The guests were spirited as they gathered, ready to accept a refreshing drink.
‘That tastes good,’ Fran said. She sipped her first glass of Kir Royale and held it up to study the bubbles in the chilled champagne.
‘The berry sweetness in the Crème de Cassis is delicious,’ Bridgette agreed. ‘A drop of this would soon perk Caroline up. Has anyone seen her?’
‘I saw the twins heading to her room; perhaps she’s gone for a lie-down?’
‘What she needs is a damn good dinner,’ Bridgette replied.
‘Fancy the twins being nurses.’ Fran was reflective. ‘That was lucky, wasn’t it?’
‘They came into their own and handled the situation perfectly,’ Bridgette agreed, ‘Waltho might have panicked.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Fran said. ‘He told me he is a trained first aider and took a course before opening classes to the public.’
‘I do hope Caroline is alright.’
‘She took a real tumble when she fell in the church, she was as white as a ghost.’
‘The poor woman was clearly unwell.’ Bridgette sighed.
‘I wanted to assist, but the twins took over,’ Fran said. ‘Do you think we can do anything to help Caro feel better? Maybe write her a note with well wishes?’ She looked thoughtful. ‘I could offer her a squirt of my pillow spray to help her sleep.’
‘The twins are here now, let’s ask them.’
Bridgette watched Jeanette and Pearl enter the salon. They both took a drink from Angelique.
‘How’s the patient?’ Bridgette called out.
‘Caroline is fine,’ Jeanette said. ‘She assures us that she is simply feeling a little tired and will be as right as rain in the morning.’
‘Oh, that’s a relief.’ Fran patted Bridgette’s arm and smiled. ‘Thank goodness she’ll be back in class tomorrow.’
‘We’ve suggested an early night, and Daniel has kindly offered to make up a tray with her dinner so that she doesn’t miss out on a meal,’ Pearl said.
‘That would be a first.’ Bridgette lowered her voice and, draining her glass, helped herself to a brandy. ‘Now, where do you suppose we are going to dine tonight? The courtyard is full of puddles and out of the question.’
Perched on the sofa’s edge, Sally reached out as Angelique offered top-ups. ‘I hope we haven’t got to change for dinner,’ she said. ‘I’m absolutely ravenous.’
Angelique smiled and reassured everyone that there was no need to change. Dinner would be served in Waltho’s private sitting room, and they could all go through when they were ready.
‘Blimey, I can’t wait to see this,’ Fran said, linking her arm through Sally’s to follow everyone through the house.
‘Do you think Lauren’s ghost will be joining us?’ Sally whispered.
‘Oh, you and your ghosts.’ Fran shook her head and smiled.
* * *
Waltho was in the kitchen, watching Daniel and Tomas finish the pasta creations the guests had made earlier in the day. Following the storm, the air, as though set free from a furnace, was cooler and moved playfully through the open door, relieving the humidity trapped within the rooms. Distinctly cooler, it had an energising effect on the chefs.
‘We will lay everything on the table, and the guests can help themselves,’ Daniel instructed. ‘They may or may not be hungry and can pick and choose as they like.’
He garnished a tray of blushing penne pasta thickened with vodka and cream and tinged with a ruby-red paste that Ahmed had made from sun-dried tomatoes. Grating Parmigiano-Reggiano generously, he moved it to one side.
Tomas took a dish of rigatoni from the oven.
The twins had prepared the rigatoni, and the smell of spicy sausages and tangy goat’s cheese was mouth-watering. Bridgette and Sally’s linguine had been baked with basil and lemon-flavoured crab, and Daniel smiled and nodded his approval as he scattered chopped coriander over the surface. Tomas sauteed scallops to add to the expat’s shrimp and artichoke fettuccine. In addition, he’d also put the finishing touches to a selection of delicious salads that included Caroline’s apple, grape and pecan pasta.
‘This is a feast,’ Angelique said as she entered the kitchen. ‘Just as well because everyone says they are hungry after their exploits today.’
‘It will almost be midnight by the time we finish up,’ Tomas sighed. ‘Do you think you should suggest a later start tomorrow?’ Hoping for a lie-in, Tomas had arranged to head off to the bar in the village after work.
‘Let’s see how things go,’ Waltho suggested. ‘Now, where is the tray for Caroline?’
Stooping to take a tray of ramekin dishes from the oven, Daniel began unloading miniature portions of all the dishes the guests had prepared. Angelique fiddled with a linen napkin containing silver cutlery and added a bud vase with a rose from the garden. Placing the ramekins on the tray, she covered the meal with a pretty lace cloth and was about to head off to Caroline’s room.
‘I’ll take it,’ Waltho said, ‘I need to make sure she’s alright.’
‘Well, if you are sure.’
‘I am,’ Waltho replied. He gripped the handles of the tray. ‘I won’t be long, please do start without me.
* * *
In Waltho’s sitting room, guests stood around and gazed at the lovely antiques that furnished the room. On one wall, a painting of Lauren was displayed against a trompe-l’oeil background of a lavender-filled garden.
‘It’s like a shrine,’ Fran whispered to Sally as she stared and placed her hands on a velvet sofa upholstered in a classic French style.
‘Wasn’t she beautiful,’ Sally replied as she gazed at the painting.
Swathed in purple silk, Lauren sat on a rustic rattan chair on a lavender-lined pathway while a cat nestled in her lap. Her smile was wide, as though amused to be posing for her portrait as she stroked the cat’s glossy body.
Sally reached out to touch the painting. ‘It’s almost as real as a photograph,’ she said, ‘and the artist is so clever to surround the subject with the optical illusion of the garden.’
Fran nodded. ‘I feel as though she is going to stand up and join us for dinner. Do you think Waltho painted the portrait?’
‘Yes, there’s no doubt. There is another painting of this style in the salon, and it’s unsigned. It’s such a shame she’s no longer with us. She must have been a fascinating woman to have captured Waltho’s heart. I wonder if he’ll ever fall in love again?’
‘It would be a waste if he doesn’t,’ Fran said, ‘that man needs a good woman to share everything he’s worked so hard to achieve.’
Sally’s fingers traced the cat on Lauren’s knee, ‘This must be the old cat that wanders through the garden,’ she said.
‘Angelique says the cat is called Tabby and I think she sleeps in here.’ Fran reached down and picked up a raggedy mouse amongst a pile of moth-eaten toys from the hollow of an old, frayed cushion. The fabric was worn and soft, and the mouse was missing its eyes. She turned when Angelique instructed that it was time to sit at the table.
Dinner was about to be served.
‘Hurrah,’ Bridgette commented as she pulled out a chair beside Ahmed. ‘I am ravenous.’
‘My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut,’ Fran said as she flicked a napkin onto her knee. She smiled at the twins, who sat beside the expats.
‘What a gorgeous table,’ Sally said as she pulled up a chair and stroked the reddish-brown mahogany, admiring the elegance and craftsmanship. ‘It’s huge and would fill the space in my little apartment.’
‘Lauren had such good taste,’ Bridgette added. ‘Waltho’s sitting room is as lovely as the rest of the house.’ She looked around and admired the ambience of the room, comfortably furnished with shabby chic furniture. Waltho’s reading glasses lay on the cover of Camille Claudel’s biography, on a bamboo table next to an armchair facing the wall with Lauren’s painting.
Tomas placed serving dishes on the table, and everyone’s eyes were drawn to the mouth-watering display of pasta as they searched for the recipes they’d individually prepared.
Angelique tapped a spoon on the side of a glass.
‘Before you begin to enjoy the wonderful dishes you created today,’ she said, ‘Chef has one more dish.’
The guests looked up as Daniel made an entrance. He wore a tall chef’s hat, which matched his immaculate white jacket, and, in his hands, held a tray covered by a silver dome.
Daniel faced the guests to announce, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, here we have a dish that I consider the most successful of the day.’
Guests glanced at the dishes already on the table to spot their own. With a gasp, Fran realised she couldn’t see her pasta and that the dish Daniel carried must be hers.
‘The pasta you are about to taste is flawless and beautifully worked and rolled to the consistency of tissue. It takes great skill to achieve this. The pasta embraces the mushroom filling and has been perfectly cooked.’
Daniel lifted the top of the dome with great drama and swept the tray in a circle before the guests’ eyes. When he connected with Fran, he stopped. ‘Fran, you are to be congratulated,’ he said, ‘you have been the best pupil today.’
Everyone applauded, and Fran flushed the colour of the blushing penne pasta.
‘Oh, Chef, I don’t know what to say… Really, I don’t think I deserve…’
She was about to confess that the dish was entirely Tomas’s work, but as she glanced at the young chef, he emphatically shook his head and winked. Everyone was congratulating Fran, including Tomas, who added that he was impressed that she’d stayed behind to perfect her pasta.
Daniel placed the dish down, and as Angelique passed plates, he sliced the pasta roll and poured a measure of mushroom and cognac cream with each serving.
‘This is scrumptious,’ Sally said as she tasted Fran’s dish, ‘so light and tasty.’
‘To be commended,’ Bridgette agreed.
The twins were nodding, and the expats raised their glasses. Ahmed closed his eyes and licked his lips, ‘Made with love,’ he said. ‘Absolutely delicious.’
Fran was flustered. It wasn’t in her nature to mislead, and she wondered how to remedy the situation. But, before she could mumble that it wasn’t entirely her work and that Tomas had made most of the dish while Fran had merely sprinkled some flour, she saw that Daniel had turned his back to place the dome on a side table.
As he fussed about creating a space, the room suddenly became quiet.
Guest’s eyes were drawn to the back of Daniel’s jacket, and time seemed to stand still. Knives and forks were held mid-air, eyes wide as everyone studied a drawing on the clean white fabric.
‘It’s a cock and balls!’ Sally whispered and almost spat out her pasta. She bit on her lip to try and stop the laughter that was erupting in her throat.
Angelique, aware that the chef was about to be humiliated, was quick to divert attention. She clapped her hands as Daniel turned to face the guests.
‘Now, please, you must try each other’s dishes and discuss the methods used,’ Angelique said.
Fran was mortified. She dipped her head low and forked food around her plate. Her appetite had disappeared, and she wondered what would happen when Daniel discovered that Fran had defaced his jacket with an obscenity.
Fran thought Daniel didn’t like her, but he’d just called her his best pupil! She felt like a complete fraud. Would she be kicked off the course, and what would everyone think of her?
Her moment of madness had backfired.