Bonjour Cherie (11 page)

We sipped our drinks in silence for a while. I wondered why life couldn't be simple. Perhaps, if I was someone like Lisa, who didn't ask much from life except as she said, a bit of fun and then a nice man to settle down with, I would be happier. But somehow I knew, I could never settle for that.

I looked across the dance floor where a few couples were dancing—and shook my head to make sure I was seeing correctly. There was Zach, his arms tightly around the girl I'd seen him with at the Coffee Club. She was snuggled into him as if she would never let him go. I had hoped they were only on a casual date the other night. Now, I knew, this was far from casual. From the feeling in the pit of my stomach, I knew something else too. I cared about Zach Mills more than I had ever admitted to anyone, even to myself.

‘What's wrong?' Lauren asked, instantly aware that something had upset me.

‘Nothing,' I lied. ‘I just saw someone I know, that's all.'

‘Who?'

‘See that guy over there with the dark-haired girl, that's Zach Mills.' Perhaps now Lauren would realise what I'd been trying to tell her earlier. There was nothing between Zach Mills and me, and there never would be now. I'd missed my chance. Besides which, now I knew who he was, I realised he'd never be interested in someone ordinary like me. I'd just been a passing fling. Someone to practise his flirting skills on. Just my bad luck they seemed to have worked on me.

‘He's a hunk, isn't he? Shame he's with that girl. How serious do you think it is?' She looked at me speculatively.

‘Stop scheming sister dear. I should think you'd know by that clinch how serious it is.'

‘Oh,' my sister waved her hands in the air, ‘that's nothing.' She looked at them again, ‘Seems to me she's more interested in him than he is her.'

‘And you know that by, what? The ten seconds you've seen him?'

At that precise moment, Zach looked in our direction and saw us. Did I imagine it or did he change colour? He certainly seemed to move away a little from his date. I gave him a cool nod and then turned back to Lauren.

‘Did you see that?' she hissed. ‘He saw you and moved away. I'd say there is a chance for you if you want it. He's interested all right.'

‘For someone so into maths and science, you have an overactive imagination, Lauren.'

‘I know the signs, girl. And so should you.'

‘Weren't you just telling me a few minutes ago you didn't believe in love?'

‘Who said anything about love? What's wrong with a little lust now and then?'

Lust—something else that had crossed my mind once. It started to worry me how much my sister and I were alike. My words coming out of her mouth made me realise I didn't actually like the sound of them.

The song finished and Zach started to lead his date over in our direction. Oh no. This was not what I wanted. That girl had seen me on the floor on my butt, looking like a total idiot. And Lauren was starting to look like an eager mama, wanting to marry her offspring to the rich and eligible bachelor. I knew it was a bad idea to come here. She beamed a smile at Zach when he stopped at our table.

‘Beth, how are you?'

‘Fine. Good. Never better. And yourself?'

‘Not bad. This is Chelsea Bartholomew. Chelsea, this is Beth and …'

‘Hi Chelsea. This is my sister, Lauren.'

Chelsea gave us a bored nod. It was obvious she didn't want to come over and meet us.

‘Beth mentioned you once or twice, Zach, so it's good to actually meet you in person,' Lauren said. I glared at her, but she was pretending not to notice.

Zach looked at me with interest. ‘Oh she did, did she?'

I decided to take some initiative here. ‘I ran into your sister yesterday. We had coffee together. She told me how busy you two were, managing your company and all.' There, ball in his court.

I had the satisfaction of seeing him look very uncomfortable. ‘Oh really? She never mentioned it.'

‘It's a wonder you even had time to go to French classes. I never realised what a busy, jet setting life you lead. You should have said.'

Zach lowered his eyes, ‘Maybe I didn't think you'd be interested.'

Chelsea was getting restless and it was evident she didn't like the turn the conversation was taking. ‘Zach, honey, I'd really like another drink.'

‘What? Yes, okay. It was nice meeting you, Lauren. Beth, I think you and I need to talk soon.'

‘I'm sure I'll see you in French class. Although, since you've been to France already, I'm surprised you need any lessons at all.' I gave him my sweetest smile.

But Chelsea had had enough and was already dragging him away.

As they left, Lauren gave me a razor sharp look and said, ‘All right, what aren't you telling me, little sister?'

‘I need another drink first.' I escaped to the bar where I had a quick shot of tequila, not something I'd usually do, but at the moment I needed it. When I came back with our drinks, I knew I had to give Lauren something so I told her an edited version of the Zach and Beth story—not that there was much to tell. Lauren gave an exasperated sigh.

‘What's wrong with you? He evidently likes you and, whether you admit it or not, I know you like him. And don't try to deny it. It's your sister you're talking to here.'

‘Okay. Maybe I like him a little. But, it's like you said about compatibility. I never thought Zach and I shared much in common and now that I know more about him, I'm sure of it. I thought I was in love with André.'

‘You mean your French teacher? Has he ever shown one-tenth the interest in you that Zach has?'

‘Well, no, but we haven't actually spent much time together. I'm sure when—'

‘For God's sake, when is this obsession with all things French going to end with you? You're not in love with that French guy; you're in love with an idea.'

I have a streak of stubbornness in me. It comes from my father's Irish side. The more you push me, the more I go in the opposite direction. And Lauren was pushing hard.

‘You know what? I'm fine. My “obsession”, as you call it, with French is no worse than your obsession with medicine. It may not be as noble or as well paying, but it's something I am interested in and you don't have the right to tell me what I should or shouldn't do. There comes a time when you should seriously butt out—and this is that time. You either love and accept me as I am or leave me alone.' I stood up. ‘I'm going to get another drink, do you want one?'

Lauren's eyes teared up. ‘I'm sorry; I've got a big mouth. You're right. And I do love you. I won't say another word.'

I'd heard that before, but for now it would have to do. ‘Do you want another drink or not?'

‘Sure,' she said, not game to say anything else.

I went to the bar and had another short. It was that kind of night. Then I ordered the white wines for Lauren and me. While I was waiting, Zach came over next to me, alone.

‘We need to talk,' he said.

‘Where's your friend, Chelsea?' I said, in no mood to give an inch.

‘She's gone to the Ladies. You know it's not serious between us. She's the daughter of some friends of my parents. We've known each other for a while. Occasionally we've gone out, but that's all.'

‘Don't think she shares your opinion there, Zach. But it doesn't matter because it's none of my business who you go out with.' I picked up my drinks ready to move off, but he placed a hand on my arm.

‘It matters to me what you think. I know I haven't been completely honest with you.'

‘Hah! Understatement,' I said.

‘Then give me a chance to explain. Please,' he looked at me and something inside me softened.

‘Go ahead then.'

‘Not here. Not now. Later. I could come to your place after I've dropped Chelsea off. We're leaving shortly. I'll pick you up in the ute. We could go for a drive.'

I was uncertain. Being with Zach in his ute late at night, especially after I'd had a couple of drinks didn't sound very wise to me. ‘I don't know. I'm here with my sister and she's going back to Brisbane tomorrow.'

‘I won't keep you out for long. I just want the chance to explain a few things to you.' His dark fringed eyes had a look of pleading in them.

‘I'll see, maybe—if we don't get home too late. I'll text you,' I said.

‘Thanks,' he squeezed my arm and let me go. I went back to our table. Lauren, to give her credit, didn't say a word and I didn't fill her in on what had happened between Zach and me. Perhaps I'd suggest we go home after we finished our drinks.

A couple of guys came in just as I was drinking the last of my glass of chardonnay. To my surprise I saw Paul and with him—André! This was getting more like Central Station every minute.

‘That's him,' I said to Lauren.

‘Who?'

‘André, the one with the white T-shirt, tweed jacket and jeans.' On anyone else what he was wearing would look stupid, but on him the combination was just right. The French had such a flair for fashion.

Lauren shrugged. ‘He looks okay, I suppose. But seriously, if I had a choice between him and Zach, I know who I'd go for.'

‘It's just as well you don't have a choice, isn't it?' I snapped. ‘I'm going to get another drink.'

‘I thought you said you wanted to go?'

‘I don't want to go quite yet. André might come over and say hello when he sees us.' I got up.

‘Is that wise? You've already had a lot to drink.'

If anyone other than Lauren had said that, I might have listened. But her words only made me all the more determined. ‘You want anything?' Of course, I knew she would say no. I ordered a vodka with lime and soda and two more shots. It really wasn't a good idea, but I was in a reckless mood. And I needed this for courage because an idea had just come to me. Tonight I would show Lauren and Zach that André was interested in me, that I wasn't an obsessed fool, and that I was in charge of my own life. I even bought a packet of smoky barbecue chips as well and be damned to Lauren, who was almost as neurotic over junk food as Kirsty was.

I caught André's eye across the room and waved. He smiled and nodded politely but he didn't come over. Give him time, I thought. If not, I would put my plan in motion. I went back to the table, sat down defiantly and took a large swig of my drink. Lauren looked at me anxiously but said nothing.

The minutes passed but he still didn't come over. Just what was wrong with that man? I would have to take the initiative as I'd already decided. Instead of asking him out, I would simply ask him to dance. What was wrong with that? I finished my drink quickly. ‘I'm going to ask him to dance,' I said.

‘Beth, no, I don't think that's a good idea.' Lauren sounded alarmed.

‘Don't be so old-fashioned. It's okay for the woman to take the initiative occasionally. He's probably only shy.'

‘I don't think he's shy. I think—'

‘I don't care what you think. In fact, I'm sick of hearing what you think and everyone else who wants to tell me how to live my life.' My words came out a little louder than I intended.

I rose unsteadily. Perhaps that last drink hadn't been such a good idea, but I would die rather than admit that to anyone right now. I turned my back on Lauren and swayed over to where André was sitting with Paul.

He looked up and I could see surprise written on his face. Something inside me quaked a little, but it was too late to turn back now. ‘Hi André, how are you?'

‘Very well, thanks. It's good to see you.' He was, as ever, charming and polite.

I took a deep breath, ‘I was wondering if you'd like to dance?' I saw Paul give him a glance and open his mouth about to speak. What was wrong with him? Hadn't he ever seen a girl ask a guy to dance? Jeez, get with the twenty-first century, why don't you. I saw André quell him with a look. Of course, he would. He had far more cosmopolitan charm in his little finger than Paul would ever have in his entire life.

‘But of course,' he said and rose gracefully. We went on to the dance floor. It was a slow tune, for which I was so grateful. At last I would feel André's arms around me. I hoped Zach was still here and watching. I hoped he felt what I had felt when I saw him dancing with Chelsea. Not that that was my motivation for asking André to dance, I told myself.

André was a beautiful, if somewhat formal, dancer, as I knew he would be. I wasn't as smooth as I usually was. For some reason, my legs weren't quite doing what I wanted them to do. ‘Are you okay?' he asked me.

‘Never better,' I said, putting my head on his shoulder. I saw Zach over in the corner by himself. The glance he shot me was murderous. Good. I snuggled a bit closer.

‘Umm. Beth?'

‘Yes?' I looked at him and his beautiful face seemed to swim in front of my eyes.

‘I think perhaps you should sit down. You don't seem altogether well.'

My patience snapped. ‘I'm fine. Don't you get it André? I really like you and I've been trying to get you to like me for weeks? What's wrong with me? Why can't you like me?' My voice started to wobble and I felt suspiciously close to tears. Oh dear, I was making a mess of this.

‘I do like you as a student, a friend even, but there is something you need to know.'

‘What?' I felt a traitorous tear roll down my cheek.'

‘I'm gay. Paul and I have been going out for a few months now.'

If the floor had opened up right now and swallowed me, I would have been happy. If I could be instantly teleported to another planet, I would have been ecstatic. If I could freeze time, then rewind it and then decide not to ask André to dance, I would have cried with joy and even kissed my sister—who must have seen instantly that my French teacher was gay when he put his arm around Paul's shoulder. That little detail had escaped my memory until just now. I thought it was just some manly Gallic custom and I dismissed it from my mind as irrelevant.