The French Gardener(56)
“Parsnip and ginger. I’m so glad you like it,” said Ava, still reeling from the scandal.
“Perhaps if you’d remained friends with Daisy, she wouldn’t have got into this mess,” continued Verity. “You’d have been a good example to her. Such a pity!” Donald looked at Phillip and rolled his eyes.
The following day Ava showed her mother around the garden. Jean-Paul appeared for work even though it was Saturday. “I want to water those plants,” he explained. “And the children want to build a bonfire.”
“I’m Ava’s mother,” said Verity. It didn’t occur to her to shake his hand; after all, he was just the gardener. So when Jean-Paul took hers and raised it to his lips, murmuring “Enchanté,” Verity didn’t know whether to be shocked or flattered.
“They’re keeping you busy,” she said, trying not to look flustered.
“I am not an idle man. I like to be busy.”
“Well, there’s no shortage of things to do in this garden, is there?”
“Where are the children?” Ava asked.
“They are in the hollow tree. They are playing pirates.” He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in thick, glossy tufts.
“Have they got my Heinz?”
“Yes, they have, madame. I believe he’s a shark.”
“Then what are Bernie and Tarquin?” Ava asked with a smile.
“Sea monsters.”
“Where are you from?” Verity asked.
“Bordeaux,” he replied.
“They produce gardeners there, do they?”
“Indeed,” Jean-Paul replied.
She frowned at him, unsure where to place him on the human food chain. “What do your parents do?”
The corners of Jean-Paul’s mouth twitched with amusement. “They work in the iron and steel industry,” he replied. Ava looked on in bewilderment.
“Really?” Verity exclaimed, unimpressed.
“Yes, my mother irons and my father steals.” With that he sauntered off.
“Good gracious, he’s rude,” commented Verity, watching him go in amazement. “Did you hear what he said? His father steals! Don’t tell me he’s your gardener?”
“Mummy, he’s teasing! Remember I told you about Phillip’s French friend Henri de la Grandière? Jean-Paul is his son. He’s come to work for a year to gain experience.”
“I remember you said something about it. Still, he’s jolly rude. If he wasn’t so easy on the eye, I’d be offended.”
“I’ve asked Toddy for lunch tomorrow with some of her cousins. I thought I should introduce him to girls his own age.”
“That’s very good of you, darling. I’m sure that’s beyond the call of duty. Mind you, one never really knows how to treat someone in his position. He’s neither staff nor guest.”
“Friend,” interjected Ava.
“If you say so, though I like things to be clearly defined. Trouble brews when the lines are blurred. When people don’t know where they stand.”
“Mother, you’re very out of date.”
“Well, yes. I suppose I am. But I am right, you know.”
On Sunday Toddy arrived for lunch with Mr. Frisby, the twins, and the two pretty young cousins, Lizzie and Samantha. The boys ran off to the bonfire which they could see smoking over the wall of the vegetable garden. The girls hovered with Toddy, breathless with excitement. Ava welcomed them warmly, showing them into the drawing room where Verity was holding court on the sofa with Phillip and Donald. They were certainly pretty. Blondes, with blue eyes accentuated by the heavy-handed use of blue eyeliner. Both were bosomy girls, though Lizzie was the slimmer of the two, in a pair of tight jeans with a pink sweater inscribed with the words “Light My Fire.” Her lips shimmered with pink gloss and her wrists jangled with dozens of bracelets. Samantha was rounder with rosy cheeks, permed hair and red nail varnish. She wore a blue shirt over a long fishtail skirt. They stood in a cloud of Anaïs Anaïs scent which made Ava want to sneeze. She watched them shake hands with her mother. They were polite, though a little too gushing, their faces sweet but fleshy with pale shiny skin and vacuous expressions like lovely cows. By the look on Donald’s face as he stood to introduce himself, he thought them ravishingly beautiful.
“Where is he?” Toddy hissed, taking Mr. Frisby off her shoulder to cradle him and scratch his tummy.
“He’s out with the children,” Ava replied.
“Let’s take the girls outside,” Toddy suggested. “Much less awkward than meeting in here.”
“Good idea,” said Ava. “Come on Lizzie, Samantha. Let’s go and see the bonfire.”