Read The French for Always for Free Online Page A

la Chapelle’s owner, and Sara always enjoyed his cheerful visits when he came to deliver their wine orders.
    ‘Would you like a cup of coffee?’ she asked in as nonchalant a tone as she could manage. ‘We were just about to have one.’
    ‘ Volontiers .’ A slow, easy smile, warm as French summer sunshine, spread across Thomas’s face. ‘Is Gavin here? I wanted to explain something about the invoice to him.’
    ‘I’m afraid he’s not. And in fact I want to ask you something...’
    Thomas’s expression changed to one of sympathetic concern when he heard Gavin had gone. Sara tried to keep it light, conscious that news of other people’s misfortunes has a nasty habit of spreading faster than an MRSA outbreak on a hospital ward. Her predicament would be all round the local community faster than you could translate into French the phrase ‘evidently her fiancé is a sexually incontinent asshole who has left her up a creek without a paddle.’ (Sara’s invigorating white-hot anger hadn’t quite dissipated entirely yet, she noted.)
    But, however calmly and minimally she outlined it to Thomas, there was no disguising the fact that the situation in which she now found herself was a serious one, given that half her annual income depended on delivering the next six fairy-tale weddings to a standard that would meet—or preferably exceed—the expectations of her clients.
    Thomas had been leaning forward, elbows spread on the table, his capable hands clasped around his coffee cup as he listened to Sara talk. He was a good listener and she could tell he understood there was more to Gavin’s abrupt departure than she was prepared to divulge.
    When she stopped, he leant back in his chair, running a hand through his jet-black hair and stretching his legs in front of him. That slow smile spread across his face once again, softening the angularity of his aquiline features.
    ‘ Eh bien, pourquoi pas ? My brother and his family are at the beach for the next few weeks while the vineyard is quiet. And my job is much easier these days anyway, now that we have Gina selling our wines into the English market—she’s the wife of a good friend and a real expert with wine. If I stay in on Saturday evenings, my father will make me play card games with him and drink too much pastis . And, on the other hand, you are asking me to come and be the DJ for wedding parties attended by hundreds of hot English girls. Hmm, it’s a difficult decision, but yes, okay, I’m prepared to sacrifice my precious weekends to help you out. On condition that you also buy huge amounts of wine from Château de la Chapelle. And maybe your wedding guests would like to come and do a tasting with us and buy even more wine to take home with them? This would be good business all round, I think?’
    Sara reached out a hand. ‘Done deal,’ she said, shaking his firmly. ‘You’re a complete star, Thomas, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for this. Antoine, could you show Thomas the barn and all the kit?’
    The two men left to go and play with the sound and lighting system, and a few minutes later party music was blaring out across the courtyard, startling the swallows out of their nests under the eaves of the barn.
    Sara turned to Karen, beaming with relief. ‘As easy as that! It’s nothing short of a miracle.’
    ‘Seek and ye shall find,’ grinned Karen. ‘Oh, and by the way, something you’ll learn about living here in rural France? When a neighbour is in need, people step in and help out. It’s one of the few advantages of everyone knowing your business.’
    ‘It’s so kind of him too. What a lovely guy. I’ve always liked him.’
    The Héls Belles glanced at one another and giggled, and Karen assumed an expression of mock exasperation.
    ‘ What ?’ asked Sara in all innocence.
    Karen came over to her. ‘I think perhaps the time has come to take off these Engaged Goggles .’ She carefully removed Sara’s reading glasses, folded them