Tahitian Wedding

‘Oh, do shut up and go to sleep!’ begged Claire, instantly regretting her impulsive admission.

‘All right,’ yawned Marie Rose, dropping the subject with surprising readiness. ‘Listen, one more thing. Are you really thinking of chucking in your TV job and staying in Tahiti or did you only say that to annoy Alain?’

‘I don’t know,’ replied Claire wearily. ‘I’m tempted, Rosie. I didn’t realise just how homesick I was until now. But I couldn’t stay here if I felt Alain was going to keep up this feud with me. Now go to sleep, will you?’

Marie Rose smirked.

‘All right. On one condition.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Claire.

‘That you come across to Moorea with me tomorrow. I’ve promised to take Paul’s parents over and show them the hotel, but I’m really dreading it. His father’s nice enough, but his mother seems to think they’re doing me a tremendous honour by allowing me to marry into the family. And they’ve got this dreadful woman staying with them who’ll be coming to the wedding. Nadine Hugo. I’ll need a bit of moral support to cope with her, I can tell you.’

Claire grinned as she turned out the light.

‘OK,’ she agreed. ‘What are bridesmaids for, after all? I’ll entertain the ogress for you.’

In spite of Marie Rose’s dire warnings, Claire was in high spirits as she prepared breakfast the following morning. She couldn’t wait to visit the island of Moorea again and surely the mysterious Nadine couldn’t be as bad as all that? Well, at least Marie Rose hadn’t asked her to entertain Alain Charpentier for the day! That would really be stretching loyalty too far. Humming, she popped a plate of croissants into the microwave oven and waited for the timer to ring. As she did so, she heard her father’s heavy footsteps behind her.

‘Hello, chérie,’ he rumbled cheerfully, kissing her cheek. ‘Any plans for today?’

‘Yes. Marie Rose and I are going to Moorea so that I can meet Paul and see where she’s going to live after the wedding.’

‘Good idea,’ said Roland, sinking into a chair. ‘I’ll give you both a ride to the ferry. I have to pick up a party of tourists from a hotel near the wharf at nine o’clock anyway.’

‘Nine o’clock?’ teased Claire. ‘Whatever’s come over you, Papa? I’ve never known you get out of bed before midday before!’

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