‘She’s not the nanny, Max,’ she said in a hushed voice that urged him to do the same. ‘She’s a friend of the family who’s doing us a favour, so don’t treat her as an employee, okay?’
Max held up his hand. ‘Whatever you say. We can go to La Petite Table another day.’
‘La Petite Table is supposed to be fantastic,’ said Juliet.
‘Had to pull a few favours. Saturday night in August. People have had their names down for a table there since birth.’
‘Well I don’t know about you, but the cocktails have perked me up,’ said David, patting Amy’s leg encouragingly.
‘I can watch the children if you want to go.’
Amy looked up to see Josie standing awkwardly at the top of the steps. ‘They’re in bed already anyway.’
‘How on earth did you pull that off so quickly?’ said Max.
‘I bought this at the airport,’ said Josie, holding up a book with hand-drawn animals on the cover. ‘I used to love it as a kid. Always made me drop off dreaming of mice and the moon within five minutes.’
‘Where are Hettie and Alex?’ asked Claire warily.
‘In their rooms. They came into Tilly’s room for the story, then I told them to go to bed. So they did.’
‘Can you come and live with us, please?’ said Claire, shooting Amy an impressed look.
‘So what are we waiting for?’ said Max, rubbing his hands together. ‘Let’s go and see whether this French wine is all it’s cracked up to be.’
It was a twenty-minute walk into the village. Max led them through the gates and down a series of winding lanes, the waning sun slanting through the poplars, casting giant shadows across the parched fields. Amy was glad of a chance to stretch her legs. The air was warm and smelled delicious, and the grand chateau on the edge of the village glowed against the peach sunset. The soft buzz of summer seemed to be all around them. She linked her arm through Juliet’s as the others walked ahead.
‘Isn’t it perfect?’ she said.
‘Exactly. So stop worrying,’ said Juliet.
‘I’m not worrying.’
Her friend raised her eyebrows. ‘Of course you’re not,’ she said with a knowing smirk. ‘But I’m sure Josie is perfectly capable of looking after three children, especially when they are all already in bed.’
‘How do we know she isn’t smoking weed and inviting the locals round for a party?’
‘Not sure she’d have switched to drug smuggling so soon, not on her first day in the job anyway. And if she knows anyone in Lourmarin to invite to a party then she’s a better networker than Max.’
Amy nodded. Juliet was right, of course. It was silly to fret over every little detail – but then that was what she did, wasn’t it? She had made a career out of making the trains all run on time.
‘So what’s really bothering you?’ said Juliet finally. Amy glanced at her friend, then sighed. Juliet knew her too well.
‘I just hate leaving the office, you know that. And it’s such a bad time, too. Apparently Douglas is taking three days off, but he’s spending it at the Edinburgh Festival schmoozing advertisers. And here I am lying about in the sun. I’m worried he’ll think I’m a slacker.’
‘Unlikely. You’ve hardly taken a single day off since he came to the company. And I’m in the same boat, remember?’
Amy nodded, not entirely reassured. Of course she couldn’t say so, but Juliet’s magazine did not have the same weight of expectation heaped on it. Livin
g Style was well loved, of course, but it didn’t attract the revenue or the headlines like Verve, and consequently she didn’t feel the pressure as much.
‘So are you applying for the Mode job?’ asked Juliet.
Amy glanced at her, knowing from the sly smile on her friend’s face that she wouldn’t be put off with a shrug.
‘You do know the sweepstakes have already started,’ pressed Juliet. ‘The Evening Standard has you down as a five-to-one shot, the dark horse coming up on the rails.’
Amy didn’t know whether to laugh at that or feel insulted. Five to one?