Hot Basque: A French Summer Novel 2

by Laurette Long

  ‘Maman!’ Edward put a hand to his heart. ‘That explains my feelings of rejection. Also why Antony has run off to Brazil, deep down he knew he wasn’t wanted.’

  Julie cast her eyes heavenwards.

  ‘Antony has run off to Brazil to chase a petticoat, or whatever you say in English. Pay no attention Caroline. But look at us, standing here in the hall. Come through my dear, Adam, he will get us something to drink. I want to hear all about you.’

  As the evening had worn on, Caroline quickly understood why the family always spent their holidays together at the Villa Julia, the two sisters, their husbands, and the four cousins. They all shared the same sense of humour, the same easy-going outlook, the same energy and joie de vivre.

  ‘You must meet my sister Anouk. I know you got on so well with the twins when you have met them in July. Ah, she was so happy, you know, Anouk, when she found out she was pregnant, with Gerard they had been trying for some time. And then when those two little babies were born, we had the loveliest times together. Fortunately our husbands took an instant liking to one another, even though they could not hardly understand a word each other said at the beginning. Perhaps that’s why!’

  Caroline found herself falling into the same easy relationship with Julie that she had with Claudie. She bent her head over the album that Julie was showing her, pictures of the four cousins when they were children, Edward the oldest, proud and straight at the head of the little troop, clutching a shrimping net on the beach at Biarritz; the twins next, holding up dried crabs, both of them so brown that all you could see of their features were enormous dazzling grins, then the youngest, Antony, also dark like his two Parisian cousins. No wonder the locals called Edward ‘Blondie’ when he was in Biarritz. He looked as though he belonged to a different family. Only when you met his father, Adam, did you see where he had acquired those oh-so-British looks. She smiled as Julie turned to a photograph of Jean-Paul holding Claudie upside down over the pool. A shadow crossed her face as she thought how different it was between her and Annabel. Could she ever forgive her sister for what had happened that summer? With an effort she pushed the thought aside and concentrated on enjoying her first meeting with Edward’s parents, which was turning out to be a splendid success.

  Since that evening almost one year ago, the two families, Margaret and Birdie, Julie and Adam, had shared their weekends when Edward and Caroline visited. The Rayburns had bought The Limes nine years previously; the house was separated from Willowdale by a small wood. What had started out as a neighbourly acquaintance quickly grew into something more. Caroline, phoning her aunt would learn that ‘Julie and Adam’ had been for tea, or that Margaret and Birdie were ‘invited for Sunday lunch, so looking forward to it, Julie is such an inventive cook.’

  Thoughts of Julie’s cooking prompted Caroline to take another peek at the ice-cream. Perfect. She moved through into the dining room. The table was set with a lace tablecloth, linen serviettes, and Margaret’s best Spode china. A small vase of freesias, her Aunt’s favourite flowers, stood in the centre, their delicate scent perfuming the room.

  She turned to the door, hearing a creak.

  ‘No, Titus, no...’

  A doleful canine face looked back at her through the crack. She wagged a finger at the old Lab who gave a plaintive whine and began to shuffle out backwards, in slow motion, rump swaying, head down, ears brushing the floor. With perfect timing he paused at the last minute and rolled one hopeful eye upwards.

  Caroline had to laugh.

  ‘You’re a ham, Titus, that’s what you are, a ham. Should have been on the stage with that tragic doggy face.’

  Titus’s expression brightened, he raised his head hopefully, gave a small woof.

  ‘Alright then, come with me. But just one treat, do you hear? One. Otherwise Auntie M is going to tell me off.’

  She checked the letterbox as she walked through the hallway into the kitchen. Nothing yet. Several cards had arrived in the last couple of days. But there was one conspicuous absentee.

  Nothing from Annabel, not even a phone call.

  She pulled out her mobile, but there was no reply to the text she had sent her sister earlier that day. She gave Titus his doggie treat, then let him out on to the terrace where he found a patch of sunlight and collapsed in a heap. As she headed upstairs to change she wondered if Edward had heard anything from Julian. A feeling of anxiety was starting in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t helped by the sight of the pile of books sitting on her bedside table. Half a dozen learned tomes on linguistic theory, all radiating an air of reproach.

  Exams started Monday. That was the day after tomorrow the last time she checked. She did some deep breathing, staring out of the window at the rose garden. In, out. Think positive MacDonald. Sometimes a break was good, wasn’t that what her friend and fellow-student Geraldine had said as they each headed off for their last weekend of freedom?

  ***

  Edward arrived late. The traffic had been mad. They had only a few minutes together while he got changed.

  She asked him if he had any news from Julian as he pulled on his trousers and she helped button his shirt.

  ‘Not since last week. I’ve been rushed off my feet. I should have phoned but there was only one person filling my thoughts. Sweet Caroline my petite chérie. God, I’ve missed you like mad.’

  ‘Edward, no, keep still, look at the time, your parents will be arriving any minute, stop that...’

  He was nuzzling her neck, licking her ear, the knot in her stomach was turning to something else. Lust.

  ‘You’re going to crease my dress, I only ironed it this morning–’

  ‘Aha! What have we here?’

  Somehow he’d managed to slide one hand underneath her skirt and was exploring her latest acquisition, an absolutely irresistible object called an itsy chikini that had arrived in the post three days ago and that she’d wasted an hour modelling in front of the mirror when she should have been studying multilingualism.

  ‘Edward...I can hear a car!’

  He reluctantly withdrew his hand and kissed the tip of her nose. She had a perfect, slightly up-tilted nose. Her face was flushed, dark eyes huge and languorous under those long lashes and those winged brows. God, she was beautiful and sexy. He wanted to rip her clothes off throw her on the bed and make love to her for a thousand and one nights. And days. He groaned.

  The weekend was going to be short. And hectic. Margaret’s birthday lunch today. Flight back to Toulouse tomorrow. Caroline’s exams Monday.

  And this afternoon...this afternoon he had something very special in mind.

  With a sigh he let her go.

  ‘So, MacDonald, this is the way it’s going to be now, after only one year? ‘You’re creasing my dress, we don’t have time and oh, is that a migraine coming on?’’

  He pounced on her again, pulled her close.

  ‘You do realise it’s a whole week since I’ve seen you?’

  ‘I know. And I’ve missed you too.’

  Somehow Caroline found herself pulling Edward’s shirt out of his trousers and sliding her hands across his broad smooth back.

  ‘Maybe we’ve just got time...’

  Downstairs, the doorbell rang.

  ***

  ‘Mmm these are exquisite Caroline.’

  Julie popped another appetiser into her mouth, noted Caroline’s flushed cheeks, and tried not to smile.

  ‘Thank you Julie. They’re very easy to make.’

  ‘You must give me the recipe sometime.’

  ‘Oh it’s simple, you just boil Jersey potatoes in their skins, split them open and spoon in a mixture of cream cheese and herbs, top with a with a twist of smoked trout and a sprig of dill et voilà!’

  Caroline took a gulp of champagne hoping the chilled bubbles would cool her fevered blood.

  A laugh came from the other side of the room, where Adam and Edward were sitting next to Margaret.

  ‘You never told me about your theatrical c
areer.’ Edward was grinning. ‘Scarecrow in the third-form production of ‘Wizard of Oz’, I’m impressed.’

  ‘I have a lovely photograph somewhere,’ said Margaret. ‘I’ll look it out for your next visit. She looked so fetching, her overalls were stuffed with straw and she had two blacked-out teeth.’

  Caroline threw a death stare at Edward. He winked and smirked. He looked very handsome, she thought, all dressed up in Armani trousers and a white linen shirt. Not at all rumpled, whereas she was sure that everyone had noticed her creased skirt and mussed hair. But he was totally unruffled, damn him. And how did he manage to be so brown the whole year round? Of course he was often out on the river, rowing, and they had taken a week off in winter to go skiing. That was when they had done a detour via Frankfurt to see the new baby. Sweet Baby Joshua. Kissable Baby Joshua. She hadn’t seen him since. And Margaret and Birdie hadn’t seen him at all.

  The sound of the telephone made her jump. Edward had just started to help Margaret out of her chair to escort her through to the dining room. Caroline saw that her aunt almost fell as she turned too quickly to pick it up.

  ‘Annabel dear, what a lovely surprise, how nice of you to remember...’

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Caroline collected the empty champagne glasses.

  ‘We’ll go through in a minute,’ she said to Julie.

  ‘No hurry my dear.’

  Julie patted her arm and gave her an understanding look. Caroline didn’t know how much Edward had told his parents about her sister, but Julie was no fool, and picked up on even the smallest hints. Earlier, admiring the array of birthday cards that adorned the fireplace, she had maybe noticed there was nothing from Annabel.

  Caroline carried the tray of glasses into the kitchen, Edward following with the plates.

  ‘See, ma petite chérie? Nothing to worry about. Just late, as usual. You know your sister. Now relax, enjoy Margaret’s birthday, and give me my orders. You look positively ravishing by the way. I love that new look for your hair. The ‘just out of bed’ look. Careful with that knife, now...’

  ***

  The lunch was a huge success. The beef Wellington was melt-in-the-mouth tender, the insides of the pastry perfectly cooked, ‘not soggy at all dear, I told you not to worry,’ said Birdie, beaming. The Madeira sauce was ‘heavenly’, according to Adam. Edward and his father fought over the last roast potatoes, getting into a duel with Margaret’s silver forks. ‘I knew I should have made more!’ said Birdie half disconsolate, half proud, glad to see she hadn’t lost her touch.

  Edward’s parents didn’t leave till almost four o’clock. They’d been sitting out on the terrace over coffee, enjoying the fine weather. It had been unusually warm, but now the sky was becoming overcast.

  ‘I think we might be in for a storm,’ said Margaret, eyeing the clouds.

  ‘Better be making tracks, what do you think darling?’

  Adam stood up.

  ‘We’ll see you for a drink this evening then? About half past seven?’

  He turned to his son, who nodded his agreement. Birdie and Margaret cried off, saying they were just too full of food and drink to face anything else that day. But Edward was leaving the following morning; he had an early afternoon flight and would go straight to work from the airport.

  ‘Working on a Sunday afternoon, it’s too much,’ Birdie had cried, horrified.

  ‘Captain of industry, Birdie,’ said Margaret. ‘Example to the troops.’

  Edward and Caroline had cleared things away while the others were chatting outside. As soon as his parents left, Edward proposed a walk while Birdie and Margaret had a snooze.

  Caroline tried to hide her disappointment. She’d been in a state of suppressed arousal ever since Edward had arrived and was hoping they could get a private romantic interlude before going over to The Limes.

  But Edward seemed bent on some outdoor exercise.

  ‘There’s a place I want to show you, in the wood,’ he said innocently. ‘The Green Pool, do you know it?’

  ‘Ah, that one,’ said Caroline. ‘How could I ever forget it? That was where someone once told me I was the ugly sister out of the two MacDonald girls.’

  Edward laughed and grabbed her round the waist. One year ago, at the Green Pool, he had made a thoughtless remark, put his foot firmly in his mouth and Caroline had rushed off, mortified.

  ‘You don’t think it’s going to rain?’ said Caroline dubiously, looking up at the sky.

  ‘Not yet. Come on, there’s something I want to show you.’

  But Edward stopped before they got to the pool, next to a stately chestnut tree which dipped its branches almost to the ground.

  They were both silent. He led her underneath the boughs, into a dim bower where the light filtered through the green leaves.

  Caroline looked up at him. This was where she had first set eyes on Edward exactly one year ago. She’d been in a deckchair, under the tree, had fallen asleep. She opened her eyes just as he was walking out of the woods. Seeing her under the tree he had stepped beneath the branches and walked straight into her heart.

  Now he sat down on the grass, leaned against the enormous trunk and pulled her onto his lap. She could feel the hardness of him through the flimsy material of her dress and her heartbeat accelerated.

  ‘You were sitting right here. Sprawled out, snoring, with your mouth open. Your hair was a mess and your feet looked as though they hadn’t seen a bathtub for at least two weeks.’

  She leaned her forehead against his.

  ‘I thought I was dreaming .You looked like a dangerous hunter, someone out of a Greek myth, who was it who always had a bow and arrow? Except you were holding a big bouquet of flowers which sort of ruined the effect.’

  ‘Yeah. I was the unwitting God Interflora and you were the dangerous huntress goddess with the bow and arrow. Invisible arrows. One of them shot straight into my heart. Bam. I’ve never been able to get it out. Wounded for life.’

  He tilted her head and kissed the little hollow at the base of her neck. She drew in her breath. He moved his mouth upwards, nibbling, licking, making her skin break out in gooseflesh. As her breathing quickened, he pulled her closer, moved his lips to her mouth, forcing her lips apart.

  She was flooded with a delirious happiness for everything that had happened, for what was happening now, feeling her body respond to his touch. She arched her back, rubbed herself against him, wanting to pull open his shirt, and press herself against his warm bare flesh.

  A row of tiny silk-covered buttons ran down the bodice of her dress. He moved her back slightly, began to unbutton them one by one, bending his head to kiss the exposed flesh. Then he slid the bodice off her shoulders, leaving her just in her bra. It was low-cut, pale pink satin edged with lace. Her pearly, perfect skin still held the faintest tinge of summer sun. He looked at her, desire filling his eyes.

  ‘Edward,’ she said.

  He slid the straps off her shoulders and she shuddered as he took one breast in his mouth. Her skirt had ridden up, he pulled her closer to him, his hands cupped her buttocks, lifting her. She threw back her head.

  ‘This is what I wanted to do.’ His voice was low, slightly hoarse. ‘That day last year, the very first time I saw you. I wanted to hold you like this, take you, right here, under the tree. I had a demon in my head.’

  He raised her higher, his large strong hands cupping her hips, then lowered her, with infinite gentleness, until he was fully inside. As her body opened and became one with his they both shuddered violently, then stopped, not moving for a few seconds. Then those strong hands were lifting her again, controlling her movements, bringing her down close then raising her again, slow at first then with mounting urgency. She was encircled, possessed, lost on a tide of desire so strong that she felt she might drown.

  They climaxed at the same time. He threw back his head, and she fell forward against his chest. They were both panting as though they had run a race. He was holding her so tightly against
him that she could hardly breathe. They stayed entwined in each other’s arms for an infinite moment.

  Finally Caroline managed to lift her head and look at him. He was leaning back against the tree, every muscle relaxed, eyes closed. Feeling her move, he opened his eyes and looked at her with such blazing tenderness the tears sprang from her eyes.

  ‘I love you Caroline.’

  She gulped, nodded, managed to say the words.

  ‘I love you too, my only darling.’

  He hugged her close, murmured in her ear.

  ‘You’re not going to believe me, but this was not exactly what I’d planned.’

  He reached out a finger and ran it delicately down the inside of her thigh, where a faint reddish mark was beginning to show against the tender flesh.

  Then he took her hand and slipped it inside his trouser pocket. She felt the outline of something hard and square.

  ‘The scenario I had in mind involved a certain dropping onto one knee, sort of the devoted knight before his courtly lady. I’d even rehearsed, my left knee’s killing me actually...’

  Mystified, she looked at him, then as her fingers closed round the object, her face changed.

  Slowly she withdrew a small black box inscribed with the words Michaud et Ferraud.

  Instinctively her right hand went to her neck, to the small Basque cross she never took off, gleaming gold against the whiteness of her bare breasts.

  ‘Aime-moi comme moi je t’aime.’

  The cross that he had given her last summer to seal their love.

  ‘Love me as I love you,’ he had said, coming to find her in Margaret’s garden, and she had given him her answer.

  She stared at the box. Her fingers were trembling so much she could hardly lift the lid.

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘I can change it. If you don’t like it. I know I should have asked you first. It was an impulse buy. I just thought, when I saw it, that’s the one for my girl.’