Freedom Fries and Cafe Creme (21 page)

Ready for another cocktail, Charlotte got up to go to the bar. But before she could move away, she heard something behind her.

‘Hi there!'

She was so surprised that she froze for a few seconds. Then she turned round. Her gaze met two brown eyes right in front of her, sparkling with humour.

‘Where did you appear from?'

‘
Du fin fond des ténèbres
…' he said with a fake scary voice.

‘Of course, from the world of darkness,' said Charlotte. ‘So you speak French?'

‘
Je suis de Québec
. Melina told me you're from France,
n'est-ce pas
?'

‘Have you been here long?' Charlotte asked instead of answering, realising with embarrassment that he might have seen her dancing on her chair.

‘For ever … I've been sitting here on the desk …'

Charlotte peered into the gloomy office area.

‘In the darkest corner,' repeated the young man with a spooky voice. And he gave a loud diabolical laugh. ‘Happy Hallowe'en, Mademoiselle!'

But Charlotte's celebratory mood was evaporating.

‘The whole time …?'

The young man nodded with a mischievous smile.

‘I'm so sorry!' Charlotte exclaimed, blushing bright red.

She set her empty glass down on her chair and flapped her hands in front of her face, trying to cool it down a little. She felt ashamed that a complete stranger – even if they did share the same native language – had been watching her as she'd been relishing her food and drink! And taking off her clothes. And dancing …

The young man was still looking at her and he laughed again, but sympathetically now.

‘What have you got to be sorry for? What a spicy treat it was to just look at you! And I'm happy to see the pumpkin's real face. I've never seen such a big one – I mean such a big pumpkin costume. And the beautiful dark eyes, so sexy! And the beret! The perfect French touch!'

‘Where's your costume?' Charlotte asked, looking the young man up and down, dressed as he was in jeans and a white shirt.

‘Vanished!' he answered, gesturing with a wave of his hand towards the ceiling.

‘That's why I was in the dark, since you have to wear fancy dress for this party.'

‘Pretty much like me.'

‘Actually, believe it or not, I was wearing something worse than your costume. I was dressed as a gigantic carrot with a black French moustache, a pince-nez and a dark top hat.'

Over his shoulder Charlotte was trying to see the ridiculous outfit he'd left on a chair, now hanging limply.

‘You're pulling my leg?' She burst out laughing, and began to feel much more relaxed.

‘It was simply for a stupid bet, but I made twenty bucks because I walked down the street wearing it.'

Charlotte couldn't restrain herself. She laughed wholeheartedly – her inhibitions cast aside at the comedy of the situation, and with the effects of the cocktail. Picturing herself as a pumpkin with a beret, and the young man as a carrot with a French moustache, was too much for her.

‘Watching you – I should say,
admiring
you – has been the best thing about the whole evening.'

Well, he's definitely got some nerve for a guy this side of the pond, Charlotte thought. By then she didn't know whether or not she should stop laughing. It might be his French heritage, she decided, but nerve or not, he is so charming!

Yes, this young man was much more daring than any Americans she'd met since she'd been here. He was the first man who had ever flirted so openly with her, and she had been to quite a few parties in the last two months.

‘Michael Deschênes,' he said, offering his hand and smiling infectiously.

‘Charlotte Farisier! Let's have a toast,' exclaimed Charlotte, thrilled to meet a French native from the New World for the first time. Actually, she was dying to go to Quebec. It would be fascinating to hear and to read French in North America, land of great cold and wide expanses. She had also always admired the determination involved in keeping French as the first language in an area of the world surrounded by imperialistic English.

‘Oh, but my glass is empty!' Charlotte remembered she'd been about to go for a refill when Michael had appeared.

‘Mine as well.' Michael raised an empty beer glass. ‘What are you drinking?'

‘Just ask for the special cocktail of the evening. Melina will make one for you.'

Charlotte described what the drink was.

‘It sounds incredibly exotic compared to my
pumpkin-brewed
beer. I'll get one for myself as well. I'll be right back.'

It took less than two minutes for Michael to return with the drinks.

‘Had to be fast in order to avoid the “Where is your carrot costume” questions. It's lucky I put these ridiculous dark glasses on! I found them on the desk where I was sitting.'

‘It's lucky for me that nobody knows me here,' asserted Charlotte, ‘so they can't tell me I'm not following the rules of the party – except Kathy, my roommate, who is a good
friend of Melina's. But she seems to have disappeared …'

‘Like a ghost …'

‘More like a bimbo witch, actually, and with a fat Garfield lookalike!'

Michael laughed.

‘Let's have a toast to the
Je me souviens
motto, the maxim of my
belle province
!'

‘To
Je me souviens
!'

‘What about more food? I haven't eaten much, being too busy staring at you.'

Charlotte put the huge sunglasses on and was as quick getting the food as Michael had been with the drinks, not because she cared if people saw her without her pumpkin costume, but because she was eager to get back to Michael. She came back with three plates laden with food.

‘Try the cold chicken curry salad. It's exquisite!'

‘I know,' answered Michael with a big smile.

‘You like it too?'

‘I made it.'

He is charming and he knows how to cook! Awesome … Charlotte thought excitedly.

Sitting in the dark little office area, Charlotte and Michael had a terrific time chatting about what was on their plates, amongst many other subjects. No one could really see them, but they could see the rest of the party, which was even more amusing for them. To Charlotte, it was like sitting in the window of the little café she went in back home, watching the passers-by.

She moved on to talk about her beloved
belle France,
and Michael about his
belle province
. The place you're
from often seems more appealing when you're away from it, and they really enjoyed talking about their home cities.

I'm having such a great time, I want it to last for ever, Charlotte found herself thinking, smiling up into Michael's twinkling eyes. Time should stop right here …

Suddenly a hideous bony hand with long black nails crept over Michael's shoulder. A witch, with long orange hair, who appeared to Charlotte to be both extremely ugly and extremely beautiful at the same time, leant down to say something in Michael's ear. Her black-toothed mouth then greeted Charlotte, who frowned in reply.

What does this witch creature want? Is she Michael's girlfriend?
All at once Charlotte was filled with anxiety.

The creature then left as fast as she had appeared.

Michael turned back to Charlotte. ‘I'm sorry to cut short such a lovely time, but I've got to leave. You really are very attractive and it's been a real joy meeting you. I've had such a great time! Thank you so much.
Au revoir!
' He kissed her hand, then disappeared into the crowd without looking back.

Charlotte was flabbergasted. She'd hardly had a chance to say ‘
Au revoir
'. Everything had happened so fast! He'd thanked her, and then vanished into thin air? But she had hoped they would arrange to see each other again. They'd talked as if they had known each other for ever, and they shared a common French heritage. How long had they sat together? A couple of hours? She couldn't say. And hadn't there been a frisson of shared sensuality over the food they'd enjoyed? Such a special moment couldn't end there!

Charlotte caressed her hand where Michael had kissed her. The atmosphere of this strange party was very much in keeping with the mysteries of this haunting night. Had she been dreaming? Was she going to wake up with a Hallowe'en Special cocktail in her hand and food in her mouth, appreciating life without a man, as she'd been doing earlier? No, Michael's floppy carrot costume was still heaped untidily on its chair. Their empty plates and the huge dark glasses were resting on the floor.

Michael Deschênes … She knew his name now. She wrote it a few times on a paper napkin, as if she were afraid she might forget it even though it was emblazoned in her memory.

Charlotte threaded her way through the crowd, hoping to step outside to see if she could catch a final glimpse of Michael. But suddenly, on the edge of the dance floor, a firm hand grabbed her and halted her progress.

‘Charlotte, here you are! Why did you take your costume off?' But Kathy didn't give Charlotte time to answer. ‘Let me introduce you …'

Charlotte greeted the fat Garfield lookalike, who then went to get some drinks for them.

‘Sorry that I didn't spend much time with you. Wait until I tell you the whole story … I hope you haven't spent the evening by yourself.'

‘By myself? No.' Charlotte told Kathy about Michael.

‘I don't know any Michael here tonight. Was he—'

Kathy didn't get any further because a group of wild, spooky black-and-orange creatures dragged the two of them on to the dance floor. Charlotte decided to join the
dancers, making sure that she kept the paper napkin with Michael's name on it safely in her bra, as if it were the only proof of the reality of their encounter.

Well, you don't have such a great time with me and then vanish like some kind of ghost, my dear Michael. We're going to meet again and then you can explain to me who that witch was! I'll make sure of it, Charlotte vowed. Besides, I want the recipe for that exquisite cold chicken curry salad.

Each recipe serves 6.

For each cocktail, mix 1 tbsp peach or apricot brandy and 1 tbsp mango juice in a champagne flute. Top up with champagne.