A Bordeaux Dynasty: A Novel by Françoise Bourdin Read Free Book Online Page B

shrugged.
    “Those outages are unacceptable,” he said.
    “We’re at the end of the power line, you know that,” Jules said.
    “Out here, we’re always at the end of something,” Aurélien mumbled.
    In the semidarkness, Jules smiled and said, “Our wit’s end, for example?”
    “Have you written them, at least?”
    “Ten times. … Come on, let’s get some candles.”
    Jules put a hand on his father’s shoulder. The rain was coming down steadily, but without excessive violence. Aurélien felt his anguish fading. Pauline popped up between them, holding a candelabrum.
    “Look what I’ve found!” she said.
    Obviously, she was having a great time.
    “You’re dripping wax all over the place,” Aurélien told her in a cold voice.
    Pauline was about to say something back when a car appeared in the driveway, flooding them with its headlights before coming to a stop.
    “They’re here!” Pauline said.
    Laurène ran up the stairs, followed by Antoine. In the happy chaos that their arrival created, the power suddenly came back on.
    “You’ll see,” Aurélien said to Antoine as he poured him a glass, “this September is going to bring plenty of problems.”
    “They’re calling for storms for the next eight days.”
    Jules went back to sit by the fireplace, on that old leather armchair he liked so much. He glanced at Laurène. The rain had plastered her long blonde hair, darkening it. He thought she was beautiful and turned away from her. He lit a cigarette and, as he raised his head, saw Aurélien staring at him from the other end of the living room.
    “Storms … Did you hear that, son?”
    There was a kind of provocation in Aurélien’s insistence. Jules picked it up and replied, “We’ll just have to deal with whatever storms arise. We don’t have much choice, do we?”
    Aurélien smiled. He and Jules were speaking the same language.
    Laurène really was between them now.
    “I prodded Fernande,” Pauline said. “You wouldn’t believe what she’s cooked. Listen to this: grilled shad, brochettes of thrush, leg of lamb with wild mushrooms, pear tarts …”
    Antoine pointed at Aurélien and said, “He always goes overboard with food when he invites me over! Well, okay, maybe it has a little bit to do with you Parisians being here? Anyway, one look at Jules and you can tell that this is not the usual grub around here. He’s skin and bones!”
    As Dominique and Laurène laughed at their father’s joke, Jules felt almost embarrassed. His slim figure put to shame the paunchy man Antoine had become over the years. But Jules cared too little about himself to be conscious of his powers of seduction. If he made use of them with women, it was never deliberate and was, therefore, without self-consciousness. Against all odds, Aurélien came to his rescue.
    “Leave the boy alone! He’s got plenty of time to become obese. You think he’s too skinny? Well, believe me, he eats like an ogre.”
    Aurélien laughed, but not Antoine, who was upset at the quip about his size.
    They all left for the dining room, where Aurélien showed everyone to their seats. He kept Laurène near him and sat Jules at the other end of the table. And in order to annoy Antoine even more, he selected an Entre-Deux-Mers to go with the starters.
    “This is nonsense!” Antoine said. “You know full well that a Côtes-de-Blaye is more appropriate.”
    “What can I say?” Aurélien replied. “I’m all out of Côtes-de-Blayes. You keep that box wine of yours all to yourself.”
    “You snake! I put a case in your kitchen when I arrived.”
    “That’s nice of you, but it must be lukewarm.”
    Antoine and Aurélien eyed each other. Seemingly amused, they really were angry. Their relationship was at times strained. They used banter to throw shots at each other, always on the verge of a fight. Without admitting it to himself, Antoine was jealous of Aurélien, while Aurélien resented Antoine for rising to his social level only through