Page 104 of The Missing Sister

‘Yes. I’ve spent most of the day with Jack – he took me to the local village so I could visit theimmobilier, but it was shut, so we had lunch. Honestly, Star, he doesn’t know anything much about his family’s past. He told me that his mum was from Dublin in Ireland and had a degree from Trinity – which we already knew – but I’m afraid that’s all. I’m seeing him tonight as I’m having dinner up at the farmhouse again, but I feel really uncomfortable about probing him any further.’

‘Orlando is convinced it’s to do with any mention of the missing sister. Maybe you should ask Jack if that means anything to him.’

‘No, Star, I couldn’t. Sorry, but he’s such a nice guy and I’m a terrible liar. It’s now blatantly obvious his mum is avoiding us, and I’m thinking that maybe we should give the whole thing up for now.’

There was a pause on the line.

‘I understand, Ally, and I agree. Anyway, it sounds like you’ve struck up a friendship with Jack at least. What’s he like?’

‘Lovely.’ The word was out of Ally’s mouth before she could stop it.

‘Really?’ Star chuckled. ‘I haven’t heard you say that about a man since, well... Anyway, just forget everything else and enjoy dinner tonight. I’ve got to be off now to fetch Rory. Bye, Ally.’

‘Bye, Star.’

As she approached the farmhouse that evening, Ally felt totally conflicted. So much of her just wanted to enjoy the dinner and Jack’s company, to go with the flow of the evening. Another part of her felt a need to tell Jack the real reason why she was here. She’d always tried to live her life as honestly as she could, albeit without hurting anyone by blurting out what she really thought, like Electra and CeCe often did. So if she were Jack, and down the line discovered that the friendly woman he had spent time with over the past twenty-four hours had only been trying to pump him for information, she wouldn’t want anything to do with that person again.

Does it matter if that happens?she pondered.And if so, why...?

‘Because he’s a nice, decent guy, who treated you like a normal human being, not a victim,’ she told herself as she marched up to the front door. ‘Just drink wine, lots of it,’ she muttered as she went to say hello to Ginette in the kitchen.

‘I’ve brought you something small just to say thank you for being an incredible host,’ said Ally. ‘Sorry if it’s a bit boring, but it’s quite hard to think of anything to bring when you’re hosted by acavein one of the most beautiful places in the world. Even your flower beds are full of gorgeous specimens.’ Ally pointed to a freshly picked bunch displayed in a vase on the kitchen table.

‘Oh! Ladurée macarons! What a treat, thank you. Please, put them in the drawer over there so I can eat them all myself! You are leaving tomorrow?’

‘Yes, sadly I must, but I’d love to come back again another time and stay for longer.’

‘Did you see any houses that interested you?’

‘No, it seems that properties here are far more expensive than I had thought.’

‘Or maybe you were too distracted to look...’ Ginette’s eyes danced as she held up a courgette. ‘I hear Monsieur Jack and you enjoyed lunch together earlier.’ She smiled mischievously as she took a sharp knife to the courgette and began to chop it.

‘Jack and I enjoyed talking because I speak English.’

‘Mon Dieu!’ Ginette ran a hand through her wavy dark hair. ‘Why is everyone so afraid of saying that they are attracted to each other these days? It was obvious from the moment you sat down at the table last night that the two of you had chemistry. Everyone who saw you commented on it. This is France, Ally, we invented the word “love”. So what if you do want to spend a night, a week, a month or maybe a lifetime together? Those moments when you first meet someone who is as attracted to you as you are to them are so rare. And at the moment, everything is simple. No baggage has been unloaded, no soul explored...’ Ginette gave a very Gallic shrug. ‘What’s not to enjoy? Now, if you are headed outside, can you take that tray of plates with you?’

‘Of course,’ Ally said, picking up the stacked tray, glad to have something to do. Maybe Ginette was right: she should just enjoy her last evening in the company of someone she liked. And – possibly – found attractive too.

Having received a warm welcome from everyone at the table, Ally was directed to the same seat as last night, next to Jack.

‘Good evening,’ he said, filling up her glass from a stoneware jug, rather than a bottle, as she sat down. ‘We’re on the usual Côtes du Rhône tonight, by the way. Basic table wine, but it’s still a ripper.’

‘Oh, I’m not fussy, I’ll drink anything that’s put in front of me.’

‘Will you, eh? So it’s vodka shots later, is it?’

‘I didn’t mean it like that, but if you’re at sea for a while and you come into port with a load of thirsty men, you certainly learn how to handle your alcohol.Santé.’ Ally raised her glass and smiled at him.

‘Santé. I bet you kept them all in order, didn’t you?’ Jack teased her.

‘As a matter of fact, I didn’t at all. After the usual sexist comments, we’d push off out to sea and by the time we came back, they were calling me “Al” and barely noticed my gender. I’d always pretend I was a rubbish cook so they wouldn’t assign me to the galley on account of me being a woman.’

‘Andareyou a rubbish cook?’

‘Possibly,’ Ally chuckled.

‘What puzzles me is that in most of the houses I visited as a child, there were always mums in the kitchens, yet most of the really famous chefs are male. Why do you think that is?’