An Unexpected Affair by Jan Ellis Page A

around and sniffed before tasting as Monsieur Vauban looked on with evident amusement.
    Lunch, which finished with juicy peaches and hunks of local cheese, was delicious and conversation flowed in a mixture of French, English and Franglais, much helped by the wine-tasting. Rosanne and her husband told the sisters about the business and their hopes that Thomas and Elena would continue to run the restaurant and the vineyard as their grandparents had done. Eleanor told them about her children and the shop, and Jenna made them laugh by describing life with Keith and the extended family, including Connie and Harold.
    “That was a fabulous lunch,” said Jenna, rubbing her belly appreciatively. “Thank you so much for inviting us.”
    Rosanne waved her hand, as though it was nothing. “You are most welcome.”
    “Let me help you with that,” said Eleanor, starting to collect assorted dishes.
    “No, please. You are our guests,” said Rosanne, taking the dessert plates from her hands. “You stay there and talk to Christophe,” she said, shooting a look across at her husband. “I’m sure that you have a lot of catching up to do. Jenna would you like to see the house?”
    “Oh, I’d love to!” Jenna gave Eleanor a meaningful wink as she followed Rosanne into the shady kitchen. Monsieur and Madame Vauban also went into the house, miming that it was time for them to take a siesta. Elena excused herself too, jumping on a moped and setting off to visit her boyfriend.
    Sitting there alone with Christophe, Eleanor suddenly felt tongue-tied and shy. He grinned and pulled out a pack of Gitanes. “I don’t suppose you smoke any more? All my English customers seem to have given up.”
    She laughed. “I’ve given up several times,” she replied, taking a cigarette, “but this is a special occasion.”
    As Christophe lit her cigarette, then his own, she studied his face. He was still incredibly handsome. She blushed as he caught her looking at him. They sat in silence for a moment, smiling at each other, enjoying the moment.
    “This is such a gorgeous spot.”
    “Yes, we are very lucky,” he said, finishing his coffee and yawning. “I think that I must take a walk or I will fall asleep. Would you like to come with me? I will show you the view.”
    “There’s more to see?”
    “Why yes of course,” said Christophe, as he stood and pulled back her chair. “Come.” They left the patio and he led the way along a path that went around the back of the farmhouse and through a small uncultivated area where the ground was scrubby and rough underfoot. The dogs ran alongside them, occasionally zigzagging off in search of lizards in the undergrowth. To begin with the way was hot and dusty and there was nothing much to see apart from the stony ground and a few ancient olive trees. From time to time as they climbed the hill, Christophe took Eleanor’s hand to steady her. After ten minutes she was beginning to wonder whether he was joking about the view but when they turned a corner, the vista opened up and she found herself gazing down past the red-tiled roof of the farmhouse at rows of grapevines in neat, serried ranks. On either side were dark green fields that rolled down the hill to the river and the edge of Chevandier.
    Christophe turned and smiled proprietarily, spreading his arms out towards the view. “ Et voila! ” He led her to a rough wooden bench under a gnarled old tree and beckoned her to sit beside him. “It was worth the climb, I hope?”
    Eleanor, dusty and slightly breathless from the walk, nodded in agreement. “Yes, it’s stunning.” And so it was. The late afternoon sun intensified the colours of the landscape that was spread out in front of them. There was no noise except for the ‘crick crick’ of crickets in the long grass, the complaint of distant goats and a chatter of birdsong.
    They sat there for a while then Christophe wandered off to look at the view, humming an old song, and throwing sticks