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healthy. You can trust me. I know.’

       Right. The French know everything, and especially about food, don’t they?

      ‘Anyhow, I took the box of chocolates that Spaulding gave me and was starting to walk away, leaving him standing there like a vegetable, when I looked back and saw that his mouth was wide open. So I turned, ripped off the giant red silk rose that was attached to the chocolates, and stuck it in his mouth! I just couldn’t resist. And then I left him there with the rose between his teeth!’

      I burst out laughing, wishing I could have witnessed the scene. Anne-Sophie, although a typical well-mannered bourgeoise Française, full of principles, could be very funny and unpredictable with her moodiness.

      ‘That wasn’t too nice of you.’

      ‘Maybe, but I believe it was the only way to make him aware that I’m not interested.’

      ‘The poor guy may be feeling pretty miserable right now if he truly has feelings for you,’ I said. ‘We may even see him here soon.’

      ‘Do you think so?’ She looked around with a terrified expression, changing to relief once she was sure that there was no Spaulding in sight.

      ‘I think he probably got the message,’ I added drily.

      After a minute, Anne-Sophie declared with a big enigmatic smile: ‘Well, it’s not the first time that I’ve had to break someone’s heart!’

      ‘Right, I forgot: the undeniable charm of the Frenchies!’

      She made a face and I was happy to see that her good mood was holding.

      I sympathised with this Spaulding, in a way. He’d looked a bit insecure and strange to me when I’d seen him at the Christmas party. He’d been following Anne-Sophie everywhere, like a little dog, gazing at her constantly. Needless to say, his wife hadn’t been at the party, and neither had Anne-Sophie’s husband. I’d attended the event in his place, which was a real treat for me because the food was fantastic!

      ‘Actually, you should have left him the chocolates. He needs them more than I do right now. They would alleviate his misery. You’ve told me about the benefit of chocolate in lifting depression.’

      ‘He can get himself some more, can’t he?’

      I opened my box of Coeurs Noirs, put it on the tiny table, and the two of us admired the beautiful glossy heart-shaped pieces of dark chocolate. We sniffed with intense delight the aromas of cardamom, pink pepper, vanilla and bergamot. Spaulding might not have good dress sense but when it came to chocolates I took my hat off to him.

      I was staring into the box of dark deliciousness, wondering whether to start eating them straight away or whether to wait. What a dilemma!

      But before I had time to make a decision about this delicate matter I heard a voice I didn’t recognise approaching the table.

      ‘Hello! I’m Mary-Whitney Smith Monroe.’

      We both looked up. Then Anne-Sophie gave a sharp cry of panic, nearly dropping the precious box of Coeurs Noirs.

      ‘Oh, mon Dieu!’ Her face had turned completely white. ‘Spaulding’s wife!’ she whispered in my ear.

      The unwelcome arrival was an ageing hippie type with an odd smile on her face. She was very tall, and skinny with it. She looked unhealthy to me, with her pallid complexion. Her abundant blondish hair fell shapelessly to her shoulders. She was wearing a long baggy dress under an overlong faded sheepskin coat. Both garments had seen better days.

      I spotted Spaulding in the background, just leaving the room, the red silk rose in his hand.

      Mary-Whitney pulled up a chair and joined us at our table without asking our consent.

      ‘You’re Anne-Sophie, aren’t you?’ she said sharply.

      ‘Yes, I am,’ answered my friend, not at all at ease.

      Did Mary-Whitney know that her husband had a crush on Anne-Sophie, and was probably hoping to have an affair with her? Was that why she was here? Why else would she be?

      ‘Well, I’ll get right to the point since I don’t have much time. Spaulding just told me everything. I came here straight after he phoned me while having a nervous breakdown in the restaurant foyer downstairs.’

      ‘Was he really?’ Anne-Sophie asked with a big sigh. Clearly she’d rather have been somewhere else.

      ‘Yes, he was. Well, you see, I’ve been suspicious for a while. He finally confessed. You and I should have a serious conversation. Good thing that I have a quick mind to think things over,’ Mary-Whitney said with confidence and a wry smile.

      Hello, I am still here! I’d have liked to add. I could leave right now with my box of Coeurs Noirs, if I’m bothering you in any way!

      But it seemed impossible just to sneak out …

      Had Mary-Whitney even noticed me? I touched Anne-Sophie’s shoulder lightly.

      ‘Let me introduce you to my friend Jessica,’ she said, and I could hear just how edgy she was feeling.

      ‘Hello,’ I said.

      ‘Enchantée!’ Mary-Whitney answered vivaciously.

       Does she speak French, then?

      She started laughing loudly but I couldn’t understand why. What was funny? The situation suddenly seemed very bizarre. I was still dying to leave but I knew I couldn’t, having seen Anne-Sophie’s I am begging you to stay stare. I put the box of chocolates safely in my bag. I didn’t know exactly why, but it seemed like a good idea.

      Without appearing to be at all embarrassed by my presence, Mary-Whitney announced: ‘So, my Spaulding obviously has a crush on you, doesn’t he?’

      This sounded pretty direct to me.

      ‘And I don’t have much time to fight with you over him. I’ve got an important job, you know. Plus, I have four children, and a busy social life.’

      An embodiment of the multi-tasking superwoman of the new millennium, I thought. There were just so many of them. How did they find the time and energy to cope with all their tasks and responsibilities? Well, sometimes they possibly didn’t give enough attention to their husbands …

      Still smiling strangely, Mary-Whitney went on, ‘But Spaulding is my husband, and it’s a role I still believe he’s up to. I want him back. But …’ and she sighed ‘… it’s certainly not the first time that he’s been led astray by the power of feminine seduction.’

      So why don’t you take better care of your Spaulding and slow down the pace of your superwoman-of-the-new-millennium social life? I would have liked to ask her.

      ‘His last extramarital conquest was a beautiful, sensuous brunette with gorgeous curly hair. He met her at his karate class.’ Looking the speechless Anne-Sophie up and down, she added, ‘Strangely enough, the complete opposite of you.’

      Of you as well, by the way, I could have added.

      Anne-Sophie is tiny but she’s quite sexy and coquettish, with her blue eyes and her bobbed hair. I could see that, despite feeling very tense, she was trying to stay calm and polite, which demanded great effort. I didn’t know how long she could take it, though.

      ‘He wanted to have pasta every night!’ continued Mary-Whitney.

      ‘A drink, madam?’ asked the pretty waitress, appearing at our table.

      ‘Yes, a double Bourbon with ice, please!’ Mary-Whitney replied at once.

      ‘And for you, mesdames? More champagne?’

      ‘We’re fine right now, thanks,’ I said.

      ‘Pasta

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